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#dormund
ts2cambremon · 3 months
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*lively discussion*
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radicalgraff · 1 year
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Mural promoting a demonstration in Dortmund, Germany on 12/8/2023 at 2pm in memory of Mouhamed D, a 16-year-old unaccompanied minor from Senegal, who was shot dead by police with a submachine gun in front of a Dortmund youth welfare facility on 8 August 2022.
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footballtubes · 5 months
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Borussia Dortmund vs PSG Preview, Time in IST, TV Telecast Channels, Live Stream Champions League Semi-Final, Champions League Head to Head
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glowbug-art · 1 month
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My girl blinks each eye individually and I respect her for it 🤡🎪
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kevkesblog · 10 months
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threelionsgirl · 9 months
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no but marco reus turning to jadon sancho after scoring the goal, all proud of the assist jadon gave like a proud father my god i'm in tears what a duo
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realmadridnews · 1 year
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Official announcement
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Jude Bellingham signed a 6 years long contract with Real Madrid. Real Madrid paid 103 million € + bonuses.
Jude Bellingham is a product of Birmingham City’s youth teams. He got promoted to Birmingham’s first team when he was 16 years old. A year later he joined Borussia Dortmund and Birmingham City retired the number “22″ in honor of Jude. In Germany he won the German Cup in 2020/2021 and became the best player of the season this year.
Previous team: Borussia Dortmund
Age: 19
Position: Central midfielder
Height: 1,86 m
Matches played last season: 42
Goals last season: 14
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cincydrawing · 5 months
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Bayern & BVB: synchronous rate 100%
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ikram1909 · 5 months
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https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFowJbxc/
I have no idea why Dormund are defending us but I love them 😭😭😭
They did this for ME!!!
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ts2cambremon · 8 months
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It's time
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tsintotwo · 1 year
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"Of course I read. I try and read as much as possible. I think we all should, kids!" - Tom Sturridge, Dormund Comic-con, 2022
(A man after my own heart...)
So, for the book lovers, here are all the books I've heard Tom mention, seen holding, recommend, etc.
1. Magic Mountain, Dr. Faustus- Thomas Mann
2. Middlemarch- George Elliot
3. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, From Hell- Alan Moore (+Kevin O'Neill/Eddie Campbell)
4. Sentimental Education*- Gustav Flaubert
5. The Spectacular Theatre of Frank Joseph Galati: Reshaping American Theatre in Chicago, Illinois- Julie Jackson
6. National Service: Diary of a Decade- Richard Eyre
And of course, Neil Gaiman's Sandman.
Bonus: He also mentioned his favorite movie is Watership Down which is based on a novel by Richard Adams. He quoted a line from John Donne's Satire III and said it was his favorite poem.
He was seen holding a copy of the London Book Review recently. Our man doesn't take his reading lightly.
*I lost track of the source of this piece of info, but I remember a pic of him reading a book on a train and someone judged the cover to be of this book's.
(I hope I'm not forgetting any. Will edit post if I do.)
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thoughtsonmarce · 4 months
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His loyality, his love for dortmund, the way he plays...
This was what made me a dortmund fan, and year after year I'm more in love with the club.
He could go to many others clube and get a lot of titles that he wouldn't/couldn't with Dortmund, but no, he decide to stay at Dormund.
Whatever is the next club that he's going to play, I wish him luck and he's going to be an amazing person just like he always been. But I'm going to miss him so much; the fact that he's leaving is so painful for me, but -as I've said - I wish him luck.
Danke, Marco.
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glowbug-art · 6 months
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Avatars created purely to cause problems for everyone else around them (and also each other) 🪦👁️🎪🤡
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kevkesblog · 5 months
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That one came unexpected.... 😂
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444namesplus · 5 months
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all character names used in the song of ice and fire pile
addam addison adrack adrian aegon aegor aelyx aemma aemon aemond aenar aenys aerea aerion aeron aeryn aerys aethan aethelmure aggo agnes ahai aladale aladore alan alannys alaric alarra alayaya alayne albar albett albin alchemist alekyne alerie alester alfyn alicent all allar alleras alliser allyria alton alvyn alyce alyn alys alysanne alyssa amarei amerei amory amos and andar andrey andrik andros androw anguy annara antario anya archer archon's ardrian aregelle areo argella arianne arlan armen armond aron arra arrana arrec arryk arryn arsa arstan arthur artos arwood arwyn arya arys asha ashara ashford aubrey aurane aurion axell ayrmidon azor b baelish baelon baelor balaq balerion ball balman balon banefort bar baratheon barbara barber barbrey barneby barra barre barristan barthogan bass bastards beesbury bella bellanora bellegere bellena bellonara belly ben benard benedict benfred benfrey benifer benjen benjicot bennard bennarion bennifer benton beren berena beric bernarr beron bertrand bess beth bethany bettley bharbo big billy biter black blackbar blackberry blackfyre blackshield blacktyde blackwood blade blood bloody blount blue boarkiller boisterous bolton boremund boros bors borys botley bowen boy bracken bran branda brandon brax braxton breaker brella brienne brightstone bronn broome brother brother brune brus bryan bryce bryen brynden bryndon buckler bullock bulwer bump burley burton byan byrch byron bywater c cadwyl cafferen caleotte calla captain captain's cargyll caron cassana cassel cassella caswell category catelyn catspaw cayn cedric celtigar cerelle cerenna cerissa cersei cerwyn ceryse character characters characters charlton chataya chayle chett chiggen children clarent clayton clegane clement cleos cletus cleyton clifton clydas cockshaw codd cohollo coldhands colemon colin colmar commander commander's connington corbray corlys corne correy coryanne costayne courtesan cousin cox craghorn
crake crakehall crane cregan cregard creighton cressen creylen crow culiper cuy cynthea cyrelle cyrenna d daario dacey dacks daegon daella daemion daemon daenerys daenora daenys daeron daeryssa dagmer dagon dale dalt dalton damion damon danny danos danwell dareon daring darke darklyn darlessa darnold darry daryn daughter daughter daven davos daxos dayne deana deceased deem delena demonlover denyo denys desmera desmond devan deziel dick dickon dobber donal dondarrion donel donella donnel donnis donnor dontos doran doreah dormund dorna dornishman dragons drogo drumm drunkard dryn duckfield duncan dunstable dunstan duram durran durrandon durwald dusk duskendale dusky dustin duur dyanna dykk dywen e ebrose eddara eddard eddison edgar edgerran edmund edmure edmyn edric edwell edwyle edwyn edyth eerl egen elaena elder eldred eleyna elia elinda elinor ella ellard ellaria ellyn elmar elmo elric elwood elyas elyn elys elysar emberlei emma emmett emmon emmond emory endrew erena erenford erich ermesande erren erryk essie estermont estren ethan euron ever eye eyed f falena falyse farman farring farwynd father fenn fergon flatnose flement fletcher flint florent florian florys flowers folk follard fool foote for forel fork forley foss fossoway fox franklyn free frenken frey from g gael gaemon gage galbart gardener gared gareth garibald garlan garrison garse garth gaunt gawen gendry genna gerald geremy gerion germund gerold gerrick gevin gilbert gilliane gilly gilly's glendon glover godry gold goodbrook goodbrother goode goren gormon gormond gorold gower graceford gran grance greatjon green greenbeard greenfield greenhand gregor grell grenn grey greydon greyiron greyjoy griffith grover groves guard guncer gwayne gwenys gwin gwynesse gylbert gyldayn gyles gysella h h'ghar haegon haereg haggo haggon hagon haigh hairy hake hal halder hali halleck hallis hallyne halys hammer hardy hardyng hareth harlan harlaw harlon harma harmen harmond harmund harrag harras harren harrion harrold harron harry harwin harwyn harys hawick hayford heddle helman hendry henly herndon hero herrock heward hibald high hightower hill hilmar historical hoare hoarfrost hoat hobb hobber hobert hodor hogg hoke hollard holly hop horas horgan horn
hornwood horpe horse horton horys hosman hosteen hostella hoster hot hotah hotho howard howland hubard hubert hugh hugo hullen humble humfrey hunter huntsman husband illifer illyrio ilyn imry irri iv ix j jacaerys jacelyn jack jacks jaehaerys jafer jaime jalabhar jammos janei janna janos jaqen jared jaremy jason jasper jast jax jayne jennis jenny jenye jeor jeren jeyne jhiqui jhogo jirelle joanna jocasta jocelyn joffrey johanna john jojen jommo jon jonah jonnel jonos jonothor jonquil jorah joron jorquen jory joseran joseth joss josua joy joyeuse jurene justin justman jyck k kaeth kandaq karlon karstark karyl kedge kegs kella kenning kermit kettleblack kevan kezmya kindly king king kings kingsblood kingsblood's kingsguard knight knights kurleket kyndall kyra l lad laenor lake lambert lancel langward lanna lannister larence lark larys last laswell leana leathers leek lefford lelia lem lemoncloak lenwood leo leobald leona leonella leonette leslyn lester lew lewyn lewys lharys lia lianna lickspittle lily locke lodos lollys lomys long longbough longleaf longthorpe longwaters lonmouth lonnel loraq loras lorch lord lord loren lorence lorent loreon lorimar lorimer loron lorra lothar lothor lucamore lucas luceon lucifer lucimore lucinda lucion luthor luwin lyanna lyarra lydden lyle lyman lymond lyn lynara lynora lyonce lyonel lysa lythene m mace mad maege maegelle maegon maegor maekar maelor maelys maester maia maid maldon malegorn malleon mallery mallister mallor man mance manderly mandon manfred manfrey manfryd manly marbrand
margaery margaret marghaz margot mariah marillion maris mariya mark marla marlon marna maron marq marqelo marsella marsh martell martyn maryam masha maslyn massey matarys mathis matthar mattheus matthew maz meadows medgar medrick medwick meera megga meha melantha melara meldred melesa melessa melisandre melissa mellario melony melwyn merianne meribald merlon merlyn mern merrell merrett merryweather mervyn meryn mikken milk mina minisa mirri mo mohor mollander mollen monarchs moon moore mooton mopatis mord mordane moreo morgan morgarth morgon mormont moro morrec morrigen morros mors morya moryn mott mounts mullendore mullin mully munda murenmure musgood mya mycah mychel myles myr myranda myrcella myre myriame myrielle mysaria n naerys naggle naharis nan narha night's norbert norcross norjen norman normund norne norren norrey norridge norvos notch noye nute nymeria o o' oak oakenshield oakheart oarsman obara oberyn of old olene olenna ollidar olymer olyvar olyver omer ondrew orbert orkwood ormond ormund orryn orton orys osbert oscar osfryd osha osmund osney osric oswald oswell oswyck oswyn othell otherys othgar otho othor ottyn owen oznak p paege pahl palehair patchface pate pater patrek paul paxter payne peake penny pennytree penrose perceon peremore perianne perkin perra perriane perwyn petyr philip pie piper plummer podrick polliver poole porther pov praed pree prentys prester preston prince
princes promised prudence prunella pryor puckens pyat pycelle pyg pyke pypar q qalen qarl qarlton qhored qhorin qhorwyn qorgyle qotho quaithe quaro queen quellon quenten quentin quenton quentyn quincy qyburn qyle r ragged rakharo ralf rambton ramsay randyll rast raven ravos raya rayder raylon raymont raymun raymund raynald raynard reach red redbeard redfort redpool redwyne reed reference regenard regis regnar renfred renly rennifer reynard reyne reysen rhae rhaegal rhaegar rhaegel rhaella rhaelle rhaenyra rhalla rhea rhogoro ricasso richard rickard rickon rivers rob robar robard robb robert robett robin robyn roderick rodrik rodwell roger rogers rognar rohanne roland rolder rollam rolland rolley rolly rolph romny ronel ronnal ronnel roone roose roote rorge roryn rosamund rosby rose rosey roslin rowan roxton roy royce rufus rupert rus russell ruttiger ryam rycherd ryella ryger ryk rykker rylene ryman rymolf rymond ryswell s saan sabitha salladhor sallei saltcliffe samantha samgood samwell sand sandor sansa santagar sara saranella sargon sarra sarsfield sarya satin sawane scales scarb seastar seaworth sebaston selmond selmy selwyn selyse senelle septon serena serra serry serwyn sevenstreams shadrich shae shaena shagwell sharp she shella shepherd shett shiera shierle shireen shirei shortear shrike shrykos sigfry sigfryd sigorn simon sister sisterton skahaz skinchangers sloane slynt small smallwood smike smiling snow son son soulless sour sparr spicer spotted squire stackspear stafford
stallion stannis stark starvling staunton steffarion steffon stevron stillwood stiv stokeworth stone stonehouse stonetree storm stout strickland strong suggs sumner sunglass surly swann sweet swyft sybell sylas sylvenna sylwa symond syrio t taena tagaros talbert tall talla tallhart tally tanda tanner tarbeck targaryen tarle tarly tarth tawney templeton teora ternesio terys tess that the the theo theodore theomore theon thoren thorne thoros three timeon timotty tion titus tobho todder todric togarion tollett tom tomard tommen torghen torgon torrhen torwyn torwynd tower towers toyne trant tree tregar tristifer triston trystane tully tumitis turnberry turnip tyana tybolt tyene tygett tyler tyrek tyrell tyrion tyrion's tysane tysha tyta tytos tywald tywin u ulf uller umber umfred umma urragon urras urrathon urrigon urron urswyck uther utherydes uthor utt v vaegon vaellyn valaena valerion valiant vance varamyr vardis vargo varly varys vayon velaryon veron vickon victaria victarion victor vikary vines visenya viserra viserys volmark vorian vortimer votyris w waif walda walder walderan waldon walgrave wallace wallen walter walton waltyr walys was waters watt waymar wayn waynwood weaver webber weeper wendamyr wendel westerlands westerling westling wex whalen whent white whittlestick who wick wife wildling will willamen willas willem william willis willow wind wineseller winterfell wode wolves woman woodcock woolfield world woth wulfgar wull wyl wylde wylis wylla wyman wynafrei wynafryd wynch wynton wythers x xaro xho xhoan y yandry yarwyck yew ygon ygritte yohn yorbert yoren yorko youngest yronwood ysabel ysilla z zo zollo
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istumpysk · 2 years
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Operation Stumpy Re-Read
ADWD: Jon XI (Chapter 53)
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Apologies for using Karsi as a placeholder. Val wasn't relevant enough to be on the show.
He was not a tall man, Tormund Giantsbane, but the gods had given him a broad chest and massive belly. Mance Rayder had named him Tormund Horn-Blower for the power of his lungs, and was wont to say that Tormund could laugh the snow off mountaintops. In his wroth, his bellows reminded Jon of a mammoth trumpeting.
[...]
Finally, as the shadows of the afternoon grew long outside the tent, Tormund Giantsbane—Tall-Talker, Horn-Blower, and Breaker of Ice, Tormund Thunderfist, Husband to Bears, Mead-King of Ruddy Hall, Speaker to Gods and Father of Hosts—thrust out his hand. "Done then, and may the gods forgive me. There's a hundred mothers never will, I know."
Are we being baited? We're being baited, aren't we?
"If you refuse," Mance Rayder said, "Tormund Giantsbane will sound the Horn of Winter three days hence, at dawn." - Jon X, ASOS
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Jon clasped the offered hand. The words of his oath rang through his head. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. And for him a new refrain: I am the guard who opened the gates and let the foe march through. He would have given much and more to know that he was doing the right thing. But he had gone too far to turn back.
This is the price of peace, I pay it willingly. If I look back, I am lost. - Daenerys VIII, ADWD
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"Gold for gruel, and boys … a cruel price. Whatever happened to that sweet lad I knew?"
They made him lord commander. "A fair bargain leaves both sides unhappy, I've heard it said. Three days?"
"If I live that long. Some o' my own will spit on me when they hear these terms." Tormund released Jon's hand. "Your crows will grumble too, if I know them. And I ought to. I have killed more o' you black buggers than I can count."
This week on Foils,
Jon negotiates an uneasy peace with those uncivilized, barbaric wildlings.
I hope he doesn't start sulking, and decide to burn everyone alive.
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The wildling pulled off the band from his left arm and tossed it at Jon, then did the same with its twin upon his right. "Your first payment. Had those from my father and him from his. Now they're yours, you thieving black bastard."
The armbands were old gold, solid and heavy, engraved with the ancient runes of the First Men. Tormund Giantsbane had worn them as long as Jon had known him; they had seemed as much a part of him as his beard. "The Braavosi will melt these down for the gold. That seems a shame. Perhaps you ought to keep them."
"No. I'll not have it said that Tormund Thunderfist made the free folk give up their treasures whilst he kept his own."
Speaking of being baited, I continue to be distracted by the ancient runes.
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Grief twisted Tormund's face. "Dormund was cut down in the battle for the Wall, and him still half a boy. One o' your king's knights did for him, some bastard all in grey steel with moths upon his shield. I saw the cut, but my boy was dead before I reached him. And Torwynd … it was the cold claimed him. Always sickly, that one. He just up and died one night. The worst o' it, before we ever knew he'd died he rose pale with them blue eyes. Had to see to him m'self. That was hard, Jon." Tears shone in his eyes. 
Richard Horpe is with Stannis, I don't think anything is brewing.
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"Dawn, then. Three days from now. The boys first."
"I heard you the first ten times, crow. A man'd think there was no trust between us." He spat. "Boys first, aye. Mammoths go the long way round. You make sure Eastwatch expects them. I'll make sure there's no fighting, nor rushing at your bloody gate. Nice and orderly we'll be, ducklings in a row. And me the mother duck. Har!" Tormund led Jon from his tent.
The mammoths are all at Eastwatch. Pray for Eastwatch.
If the Others do attack Eastwatch, you have a nice little parallel with Daenerys, who's about to go to war with the elephants.
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He [Hareth] and Leathers were the only men Jon had brought with him to the parley; any more might have been seen as a sign of fear, and twenty men would have been of no more use than two if Tormund had been intent on blood.
Bruh, you have to create the illusion you're including others in your decision-making process. Even Tywin Lannister did that.
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Ghost was the only protection Jon needed; the direwolf could sniff out foes, even those who hid their enmity behind smiles.
Ghost would have followed as well, but as the wolf came padding after them, Jon grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and wrestled him back inside. Borroq might be amongst those gathering at the Shieldhall. The last thing he needed just now was his wolf savaging the skinchanger's boar. - Jon XIII, ADWD
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From above came the sudden sound of wings. Mormont's raven flapped from a limb of an old oak to perch upon Jon's saddle. "Corn," it cried. "Corn, corn, corn."
"Did you follow me as well?" Jon reached to shoo the bird away but ended up stroking its feathers. The raven cocked its eye at him. "Snow," it muttered, bobbing its head knowingly. 
Eye, singular.
That ain't no blood raven, that's a Bran raven.
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Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.
They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.
"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.
"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."
Wait a second.
WAIT A SECOND.
What happened ... to Cool Girl's ... grey eyes?
Why ... at this moment ... have they turned ... blue?
Val looked at him with pale grey eyes. - Jon X, ASOS
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They had crowned her with a simple circlet of dark bronze, yet she looked more regal in bronze than Stannis did in gold. Her eyes were grey and fearless, unflinching. - Jon III, ADWD
See? Grey. She's shapeshifting again.
Something tells me that's not a continuity error.
She was as fair as he'd remembered, slender, full-breasted, graceful even at rest, with high sharp cheekbones and a thick braid of honey-colored hair that fell to her waist. - Jon X, ASOS
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Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue - Jon XI, ADWD
Something weird is going on here, but I can't quite put my finger on it.
Worse, she was beautiful. - Arya I, AGOT
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"Your bosom will be as lovely as the queen's," the old woman said as she looped her string around Sansa's chest. "You should not hide it so." - Sansa II, ASOS
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"I had heard that Lord Littlefinger's daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief." - Alayne I, TWOW
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Sansa had gotten their mother's fine high cheekbones - Arya I, AGOT
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"OH, SWEET SHE WAS, AND PURE, AND FAIR! THE MAID WITH HONEY IN HER HAIR!" - Sansa I, ASOS
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✨✨✨ Petyr studied her eyes, as if seeing them for the first time. "You have your mother's eyes. Honest eyes, and innocent. Blue as a sunlit sea. When you are a little older, many a man will drown in those eyes." - Sansa I, AFFC ✨✨✨
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Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.
They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.
"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.
"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."
It's a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.
Two pairs of hose for her legs, boots that laced up to her knees, heavy leather gloves, and finally a hooded cloak of soft white fox fur.
[...]
He smiled. "I wish you could see yourself, my lady. You are so beautiful. You're crusted over with snow like some little bear cub, but your face is flushed and you can scarcely breathe. How long have you been out here? You must be very cold. Let me warm you, Sansa. - Sansa VII, ASOS
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Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.
They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.
"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.
"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."
It's always there, the truth. We just need to look for it.
"I had heard that Lord Littlefinger's daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief."
"You wrong me, ser. I am no thief!"
Ser Roland placed his hand over his heart. "Then how do you explain this hole in my chest, from where you stole my heart?" - Alayne I, TWOW
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Then Ghost emerged from between two trees, with Val beside him.
They look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white; white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. Her breath was white as well … but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.
"Have you been trying to steal my wolf?" he asked her.
"Why not? If every woman had a direwolf, men would be much sweeter. Even crows."
Why, it's almost as if this "character" (I use that term loosely) is a plot device, who only exists to remind us of other people.
The light of the half-moon turned Val's honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. "The air tastes sweet."
"My tongue is too numb to tell. All I can taste is cold." - Jon VIII, ADWD
Pale silver? Bad. ❌
Dark honey, blue-eyed? Good. ✅
Okay, I'm done.
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What had that oaf Axell Florent said of Val? "A nubile girl, not hard to look upon. Good hips, good breasts, well made for whelping children."
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All true enough, but the wildling woman was so much more. 
If you have any critical thinking skills whatsoever, this should have prompted nothing more than a laugh.
The joke is he doesn't know anything about Val. The reader doesn't know anything about Val. Val is a blank page dressed in white.
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She had proved that by finding Tormund where seasoned rangers of the Watch had failed. She may not be a princess, but she would make a worthy wife for any lord.
Again, the appropriate response is to laugh.
Val would make a dreadful wife for any noble, and the author's going to demonstrate why.
I weep for people who can't see what's going on here.
Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. - Catelyn VII, ACOK
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She is good at this, he thought, as he watched her tell Lord Gyles that his cough was sounding better, compliment Elinor Tyrell on her gown, and question Jalabhar Xho about wedding customs in the Summer Isles. His cousin Ser Lancel had been brought down by Ser Kevan, the first time he'd left his sickbed since the battle. He looks ghastly. Lancel's hair had turned white and brittle, and he was thin as a stick. Without his father beside him holding him up, he would surely have collapsed. Yet when Sansa praised his valor and said how good it was to see him getting strong again, both Lancel and Ser Kevan beamed. She would have made Joffrey a good queen and a better wife if he'd had the sense to love her. He wondered if his nephew was capable of loving anyone. - Tyrion VIII, ASOS
A poor substitute for the real thing.
King Stannis had plans for Val, he knew; she was the mortar with which he meant to seal the peace between the northmen and the free folk. - Samwell I, AFFC
x
Our alliances in the south may be as solid as Casterly Rock, but there remains the north to win, and the key to the north is Sansa Stark. - Tyrion III, ASOS
Always has been, always will be.
She may not be a princess
Wait for it.
WAIT FOR IT.
+.+.+
But that bridge had been burned a long time ago, and Jon himself had thrown the torch. "Toregg is welcome to her," he announced. "I took a vow."
That's kind of a dick thing to say right in front of her, lol.
+.+.+
"She won't mind. Will you, girl?"
Val patted the long bone knife on her hip. "Lord Crow is welcome to steal into my bed any night he dares. Once he's been gelded, keeping those vows will come much easier for him."
HA HA she's so cool.
+.+.+
As Jon scratched Ghost behind the ear, Toregg brought up Val's horse for her. She still rode the grey garron that Mully had given her the day she left the Wall, a shaggy, stunted thing blind in one eye. As she turned it toward the Wall, she asked, "How fares the little monster?"
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"Freedom of the castle you shall have, but I regret to say you must remain a captive. I can promise that you will not be troubled by unwanted visitors, however. My own men guard Hardin's Tower, not the queen's. And Wun Wun sleeps in the entry hall."
Sansa hovered by the door, for once unguarded. The queen had given her freedom of the castle as a reward for being good, yet even so, she was escorted everywhere she went. - Sansa V, AGOT
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Shoutout to @please-dot!
+.+.+
Jon saw signs of sickness too. That disquieted him more than he could say. If Tormund's band were starved and sick, what of the thousands who had followed Mother Mole to Hardhome? Cotter Pyke should reach them soon. If the winds were kind, his fleet might well be on its way back to Eastwatch even now, with as many of the free folk as he could cram aboard.
Jon lets the sick pass the Wall.
Now I'm wondering what the author's personal stance was on Daenerys keeping the sick out of Meereen. I didn't think she had much of a choice, but perhaps George disagrees.
+.+.+
"How did you fare with Tormund?" asked Val.
"Ask me a year from now. The hard part still awaits me. The part where I convince mine own to eat this meal I've cooked for them. None of them are going to like the taste, I fear."
"Let me help."
"You have. You brought me Tormund."
"I can do more."
Why not? thought Jon. They are all convinced she is a princess. Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.
There it is, in all its glory.
A real authentic warrior princess.
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Controversial, but I agree with him.
Val is nothing like that other princess in the story.
+.+.+
Why not? thought Jon. They are all convinced she is a princess. Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.
I'm not finished.
In case Jon's own thoughts weren't enough,
Val is no princess, though. I told him that half a hundred times. - Jon VIII, ADWD
George has basically confirmed Jon is projecting all over this girl.
However, in my own defense, I should note that Dalla was not a "warrior woman" per se. She was from a warrior culture, yes; one that gave women the right, but not the obligation, to be fighters. Ygritte was a warrior woman, as was (most conspicuously) the fearsome Harma Dogshead. Dalla and Val were not. - George R. R. Martin
She is no warrior, she is no princess, and she damn well sure isn't the mortar to the north.
As for Jon's thoughts on willowy creatures in towers,
He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind. - Jon III, AGOT
x
The mare whickered softly as Jon Snow tightened the cinch. "Easy, sweet lady," he said in a soft voice, quieting her with a touch. - Jon IX, AGOT
x
He was not a man you'd expect to speak of maids and wedding nights. So far as Jon knew, Qhorin had spent his whole life in the Watch. Did he ever love a maid or have a wedding? He could not ask. Instead he fanned the fire. When the blaze was all acrackle, he peeled off his stiff gloves to warm his hands, and sighed, wondering if ever a kiss had felt as good. - Jon VIII, ACOK
x
Sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him. And sometimes by the cookfire when she sat hugging her knees with the flames waking echoes in her red hair, and looked at him, just smiling . . . well, that stirred some things as well. - Jon II, ASOS
x
If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us. - Jon V, ASOS
x
"Then I'd push him in a stream or throw a bucket o' water on him. Anyhow, men shouldn't smell sweet like flowers."
"What's wrong with flowers?" - Jon V, ASOS
x
For a time he dreamed that Ygritte was with him, tending him with gentle hands. - Jon VI, ASOS
x
He watched the child nurse at Gilly's breast, and then he watched Jon watch. Jon is smiling. A sad smile, still, but definitely a smile of sorts. Sam was glad to see it. It is the first time I've seen him smile since I got back. - Samwell IV, ASOS
x
A snowflake danced upon the air. Then another. Dance with me, Jon Snow, he thought. You'll dance with me anon. - Jon XII, ADWD
I might take it more seriously if he wasn't such a willowy boy.
+.+.+
"I must inform the queen of this agreement," he said. "You are welcome to come meet her, if you can find it in yourself to bend a knee." It would never do to offend Her Grace before he even opened his mouth.
"May I laugh when I kneel?"
"You may not. This is no game. A river of blood runs between our peoples, old and deep and red. Stannis Baratheon is one of the few who favors admitting wildlings to the realm. I need his queen's support for what I've done."
Val's playful smile died. "You have my word, Lord Snow. I will be a proper wildling princess for your queen."
Oh boy, I can't wait to see how well princess emissary does.
Teach him, author. Show him what happens to 11-year-old girls boys who romanticize pretty princes princesses they don't know.
+.+.+
She is not my queen, he might have said. If truth be told, the day of her departure cannot come too fast for me. And if the gods are good, she will take Melisandre with her.
I know this is about Selyse, but.
+.+.+
"If it please m'lord, the lads were wondering. Will it be peace, m'lord? Or blood and iron?"
"Peace," Jon Snow replied. "Three days hence, Tormund Giantsbane will lead his people through the Wall. As friends, not foes. Some may even swell our ranks, as brothers. It will be for us to make them welcome. Now back to your duties." 
This, plus the conflict between Daenerys and Yunkai being (temporarily) resolved by a peace deal, is another strong indicator the Others will not be stopped with swords or magic.
+.+.+
Bring parchment, quills, and a pot of maester's black to my chambers. Then summon Marsh, Yarwyck, Septon Cellador, Clydas." Cellador would be half-drunk, and Clydas was a poor substitute for a real maester, but they were what he had. Till Sam returns. 
Poor substitutes everywhere you look! What happened to getting more maesters?
"If you ask the Citadel for more maesters . . ."
"I mean to. We'll have need of every one. Aemon Targaryen is not so easily replaced, however." - Jon II, ADWD
Looks like the author is going to pretend it doesn't take years to become a maester. Who needs a 5 year gap?
+.+.+
He turned to Val. "My lady. With me, if you please."
"The crow commands, the captive must obey." Her tone was playful. 
x
They made their way toward the King's Tower, along fresh-shoveled pathways between mounds of dirty snow. "I have heard it said that your queen has a great dark beard."
Jon knew he should not smile, but he did.
x
Commanding them was Ser Patrek of King's Mountain, clad in his knightly raiment of white and blue and silver, his cloak a spatter of five-pointed stars. When presented to Val, the knight sank to one knee to kiss her glove. "You are even lovelier than I was told, princess," he declared. "The queen has told me much and more of your beauty."
"How odd, when she has never seen me." Val patted Ser Patrek on the head. "Up with you now, ser kneeler. Up, up." She sounded as if she were talking to a dog.
It was all that Jon could do not to laugh. 
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When presented to Val, the knight sank to one knee to kiss her glove. "You are even lovelier than I was told, princess," he declared. "The queen has told me much and more of your beauty."
"How odd, when she has never seen me."
Not to be outdone, the pimply knight hopped up and said, "Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms." It might have been a sweeter courtesy had he not addressed it to her chest.
"And have you seen all those maids yourself, ser?" Alayne asked him. "You are young to be so widely travelled." - Alayne I, TWOW
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Shoutout to @please-dot!
+.+.+
They found Her Grace sewing by the fire, whilst her fool danced about to music only he could hear, the cowbells on his antlers clanging. "The crow, the crow," Patchface cried when he saw Jon. "Under the sea the crows are white as snow, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."
If under the sea is still code for death, then I believe that's more evidence of Jon warging inside Ghost.
+.+.+
There was no sign of Lady Melisandre. For that much Jon was grateful. 
Lol.
+.+.+
"Your Grace." He took a knee. Val did likewise.
Wow, impressive. Let's see your curtsy, princess blue-blood.
+.+.+
"Are you the wildling princess?" Shireen asked Val.
"Some call me that," said Val. "My sister was wife to Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall. She died giving him a son."
I'm sorry, don't the kneelers call you that?
+.+.+
"I'm a princess too," Shireen announced, "but I never had a sister. I used to have a cousin once, before he sailed away. He was just a bastard, but I liked him."
"Honestly, Shireen," her mother said. "I am sure the lord commander did not come to hear about Robert's by-blows. Patchface, be a good fool and take the princess to her room."
The bells on his hat rang. "Away, away," the fool sang. "Come with me beneath the sea, away, away, away." He took the little princess by one hand and drew her from the room, skipping.
Hey, princess Sansa has a bastard cousin she's fond of too.
Please don't take Shireen beneath the sea. Please?
+.+.+
Jon said, "Your Grace, the leader of the free folk has agreed to my terms."
Queen Selyse gave the tiniest of nods. "It was ever my lord husband's wish to grant sanctuary to these savage peoples. So long as they keep the king's peace and the king's laws, they are welcome in our realm." She pursed her lips. "I am told they have more giants with them."
Yes, that was definitely something Stannis genuinely cared about.
Melisandre nodded solemnly, as if she had taken his words to heart, but this Weeper did not matter. None of his free folk mattered. They were a lost people, a doomed people, destined to vanish from the earth, as the children of the forest had vanished. - Melisandre I, ADWD
+.+.+
She pursed her lips. "I am told they have more giants with them." Val answered. "Almost two hundred of them, Your Grace. And more than eighty mammoths."
The queen shuddered. "Dreadful creatures." Jon could not tell if she was speaking of the mammoths or the giants. "Though such beasts might be useful to my lord husband in his battles."
There's two hundred giants, and eighty mammoths?
Probably not for long.
"Though such beasts might be useful to my lord husband in his battles."
I hate these people.
+.+.+
Selyse sniffed. "If you say so. No doubt you know about such things. Where do you mean to settle these wildlings? Surely Mole's Town is not large enough to contain … how many are they?" "Four thousand, Your Grace. They will help us garrison our abandoned castles, the better to defend the Wall."
Numbers update! Four thousand wildlings are passing the Wall.
Most of them are not fighting men, and won't factor into the battle for Winterfell.
+.+.+
"I see you have considered all this carefully, Lord Snow. I am sure King Stannis will be pleased when he returns triumphant from his battle."
Lol, k.
You know what I would do if I triumphantly won back Winterfell, and secured a kingdom to my cause?
Burn my daughter alive to celebrate.
+.+.+
"Of course," the queen went on, "the wildlings must first acknowledge Stannis as their king and R'hllor as their god."
And here we are, face-to-face in the narrow passage. "Your Grace, forgive me. Those were not the terms that we agreed to."
The queen's face hardened. "A grievous oversight." What faint traces of warmth her voice had held vanished all at once.
Don't worry, Jon's a seasoned veteran when it comes to tense matters like this. He's got this under contr-
+.+.+
"Free folk do not kneel," Val told her.
"Then they must be knelt," the queen declared.
"Do that, Your Grace, and we will rise again at the first chance," Val promised. "Rise with blades in hand."
The queen's lips tightened, and her chin gave a small quiver. "You are insolent. I suppose that is only to be expected of a wildling. We must find you a husband who can teach you courtesy." 
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Damn, you fucking suck at this, princess diplomacy.
+.+.+
"Your Grace." Jon knelt again. This time Val did not join him. "I am sorry my actions have displeased you. I did as I thought best. Do I have your leave to go?"
I would have liked to see him reflect on what a dumbass princess fumble is, but I understand I can't have everything.
Or maybe I can ...
+.+.+
Once outside and well away from the queen's men, Val gave vent to her wroth. "You lied about her beard. That one has more hair on her chin than I have between my legs. And the daughter … her face …"
"Greyscale."
"The grey death is what we call it."
"It is not always mortal in children."
"North of the Wall it is. Hemlock is a sure cure, but a pillow or a blade will work as well. If I had given birth to that poor child, I would have given her the gift of mercy long ago."
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Oh no, what's happening? Say it ain't so, princess filicide.
Surely you wouldn't kill your own child if it was unnecessary.
The curse was oft seen in children, especially in damp, cold climes. The afflicted flesh stiffened, calcified, and cracked, though the dwarf had read that greyscale's progress could be stayed by limes, mustard poultices, and scalding-hot baths (the maesters said) or by prayer, sacrifice, and fasting (the septons insisted). Then the disease passed, leaving its young victims disfigured but alive. Maesters and septons alike agreed that children marked by greyscale could never be touched by the rarer mortal form of the affliction, nor by its terrible swift cousin, the grey plague. - Tyrion V, ADWD
You should keep going, princess merciful. Nothing turns Jon on more than talk of killing kids.
+.+.+
This was a Val that Jon had never seen before. "Princess Shireen is the queen's only child."
A little too much wildling in that wildling, huh?
You've never seen any part of Val before, you banana.
+.+.+
"I pity both of them. The child is not clean."
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DON'T STOP GEORGE. LEARN HIM.
+.+.+
"If Stannis wins his war, Shireen will stand as heir to the Iron Throne."
"Then I pity your Seven Kingdoms."
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+.+.+
"The maesters say greyscale is not—"
"The maesters may believe what they wish. Ask a woods witch if you would know the truth. The grey death sleeps, only to wake again. The child is not clean!"
"She seems a sweet girl. You cannot know—"
"I can. You know nothing, Jon Snow." Val seized his arm. "I want the monster out of there. Him and his wet nurses. You cannot leave them in that same tower as the dead girl."
Jon shook her hand away. "She is not dead."
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
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+.+.+
"She is. Her mother cannot see it. Nor you, it seems. Yet death is there." She walked away from him, stopped, turned back. "I brought you Tormund Giantsbane. Bring me my monster."
Bring princess maternal the monster. She's great with children.
Death is certainly there for Shireen, but not for the reasons Val believes.
While we're on the topic of mercy killing kids, would you like to know who you're supposed to be thinking about while this conversation is taking place? ("Then I pity your Seven Kingdoms.")
"He could end his torment," Jaime said. "I would, if it were my son. It would be a mercy." - Tyrion I, AGOT
x
"Oh, don't be absurd." Cersei closed the window. "Yes, I hoped the boy would die. So did you. Even Robert thought that would have been for the best. 'We kill our horses when they break a leg, and our dogs when they go blind, but we are too weak to give the same mercy to crippled children,' he told me. He was blind himself at the time, from drink." - Jaime IX, ASOS
Yeah, this girl is totally Jon's happy ending.
+.+.+
"If I can, I will."
"Do. You owe me a debt, Jon Snow."
Jon watched her stride away. She is wrong. She must be wrong. Greyscale is not so deadly as she claims, not in children.
Shireen is fine, she's had greyscale for 11 years now.
Let's wait and see if that not deadly disease is used to justify a horrific act.
Ask a woods witch if you would know the truth. The grey death sleeps, only to wake again.
+.+.+
At four hundred feet the wind had teeth, and tore at his black cloak so it slapped noisily at the iron bars. At seven hundred it cut right through him. The Wall is mine, Jon reminded himself as the winchmen were swinging in the cage, for two more days, at least.
Close. It's yours for about another week, then you can say goodbye.
+.+.+
Both wore woolen hoods pulled down over their heads, so nothing could be seen of their faces but their eyes, but he knew Ty by the tangled rope of greasy black hair falling down his back and Owen by the sausage stuffed into the scabbard at his hip. He might have known them anyway, just by the way they stood. A good lord must know his men, his father had once told him and Robb, back at Winterfell.
I wish you'd do a better job at knowing Bowen Marsh.
+.+.+
Jon walked to the edge of the Wall and gazed down upon the killing ground where Mance Rayder's host had died. He wondered where Mance was now. Did he ever find you, little sister? Or were you just a ploy he used so I would set him free?
We're still trying to figure that one out, Jon.
+.+.+
It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl.
Arya Stark, still very much a child in the eyes of Jon Snow.
Unrelated, but did you know Shireen and Arya are the exact same age? I bet Jon knows.
+.+.+
Jon Snow flexed the fingers of his sword hand, remembering all he'd lost. Sam, you sweet fat fool, you played me a cruel jape when you made me lord commander. A lord commander has no friends.
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Jon pointed at the lights of their campfires. "There they are. Four thousand, Tormund claims."
"Three thousand, I make them, by the fires." Bowen Marsh lived for counts and measures. "More than twice that number at Hardhome with the woods witch, we are told. And Ser Denys writes of great camps in the mountains beyond the Shadow Tower …"
Scratch that, three thousand wildings are passing the Wall. More than six thousand are at Hardhome.
Many more are in the mountains beyond the Shadow Tower. Do we know what's happening at the Shadow Tower?
+.+.+
Jon did not deny it. "Tormund says the Weeper means to try the Bridge of Skulls again."
The Old Pomegranate touched his scar. He had gotten it defending the Bridge of Skulls the last time the Weeping Man had tried to cut his way across the Gorge. "Surely the lord commander cannot mean to allow that … that demon through as well?"
"Not gladly." Jon had not forgotten the heads the Weeping Man had left him, with bloody holes where their eyes had been. Black Jack Bulwer, Hairy Hal, Garth Greyfeather. I cannot avenge them, but I will not forget their names. "But yes, my lord, him as well. We cannot pick and choose amongst the free folk, saying this one may pass, this one may not. Peace means peace for all."
[...]
"How many rangers has the Weeper killed?" asked Othell Yarwyck. "How many women has he raped or killed or stolen?"
"Three of mine own ilk," said Old Flint. "And he blinds the girls he does not take."
Similar to Daenerys and her peace deal, Jon's forced to swallow an especially difficult pill.
I'm not smart enough to tell you what should have happened.
+.+.+
"You need not trust a man to use him." Else how could I make use of all of you? "We need the Weeper, and others like him. Who knows the wild better than a wildling? Who knows our foes better than a man who has fought them?"
That's kind of unfair. They haven't done anything. Yet.
+.+.+
"Brothers should not squabble," Septon Cellador said. "Let us kneel and pray to the Crone to light our way to wisdom."
George mocking "thoughts and prayers" before it became a thing.
+.+.+
"Lord Snow," said The Norrey, "where do you mean to put these wildlings o' yours? Not on my lands, I hope."
"Aye," declared Old Flint. "You want them in the Gift, that's your folly, but see they don't wander off or I'll send you back their heads. Winter is nigh, I want no more mouths to feed."
I think it was paramount he involve these two in the negotiations.
The Night's Watch relies on the support of noble houses, especially northern houses.
+.+.+
"The wildlings will remain upon the Wall," Jon assured them. "Most will be housed in one of our abandoned castles." The Watch now had garrisons at Icemark, Long Barrow, Sable Hall, Greyguard, and Deep Lake, all badly undermanned, but ten castles still stood empty and abandoned. "Men with wives and children, all orphan girls and any orphan boys below the age of ten, old women, widowed mothers, any woman who does not care to fight. The spearwives we'll send to Long Barrow to join their sisters, single men to the other forts we've reopened. Those who take the black will remain here, or be posted to Eastwatch or the Shadow Tower. Tormund will take Oakenshield as his seat, to keep him close at hand."
Tormund Oakenshield. Can someone tell me if Thorin Oakenshield ever blows a horn?
I'm not sure these castles survive the Wall falling. They have to go somewhere else.
You want them in the Gift, that's your folly
+.+.+
Bowen Marsh sighed. "If they do not slay us with their swords, they will do so with their mouths. Pray, how does the lord commander propose to feed Tormund and his thousands?"
Jon had anticipated that question. "Through Eastwatch. We will bring in food by ship, as much as might be required. From the riverlands and the stormlands and the Vale of Arryn, from Dorne and the Reach, across the narrow sea from the Free Cities."
"And this food will be paid for … how, if I may ask?"
With gold, from the Iron Bank of Braavos, Jon might have replied. Instead he said, "I have agreed that the free folk may keep their furs and pelts. They will need those for warmth when winter comes. All other wealth they must surrender. Gold and silver, amber, gemstones, carvings, anything of value. We will ship it all across the narrow sea to be sold in the Free Cities."
"All the wealth o' the wildlings," said The Norrey. "That should buy you a bushel o' barleycorn. Two bushels, might be."
SAY THAT. TELL THEM.
Like, almost every insurrection happens because of food scarcity in this series. Please tell them you have money to buy food.
+.+.+
"Lord Commander, why not demand that the wildlings give up their arms as well?" asked Clydas.
Leathers laughed at that. "You want the free folk to fight beside you against the common foe. How are we to do that without arms? Would you have us throw snowballs at the wights? Or will you give us sticks to hit them with?"
The arms most wildlings carry are little more than sticks, thought Jon. 
SAY THE QUIET PART OUT LOUD.
+.+.+
"Tormund has given me his oath. He will serve with us until the spring. The Weeper and their other captains will swear the same or we will not let them pass."
Old Flint shook his head. "They will betray us."
"The Weeper's word is worthless," said Othell Yarwyck.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think we get another update on the Weeper in this book. I don't think he's passed the Wall.
+.+.+
"The gods of the North, since before this Wall was raised," said Jon. "Those are the gods that Tormund swore by. He will keep his word. I know him, as I knew Mance Rayder. I marched with them for a time, you may recall."
"I had not forgotten," said the Lord Steward.
No, thought Jon, I did not think you had.
What possessed him to bring that up?
+.+.+
"It is not their children who concern us. We fear the fathers, not the sons."
"As do I. So I insisted upon hostages." I am not the trusting fool you take me for … nor am I half wildling, no matter what you believe. "One hundred boys between the ages of eight and sixteen. A son from each of their chiefs and captains, the rest chosen by lot. The boys will serve as pages and squires, freeing our own men for other duties. Some may choose to take the black one day. Queerer things have happened. The rest will stand hostage for the loyalty of their sires."
The northmen glanced at one another. "Hostages," mused The Norrey. "Tormund has agreed to this?"
It was that, or watch his people die. "My blood price, he called it," said Jon Snow, "but he will pay."
Maybe lead with this next time.
Can't say I'm a big fan of child hostages.
We're going to hope this doesn't go to hell once Jon's killed. If I had to guess, I'd say the Meereen hostages both sides hold are in a lot greater danger.
+.+.+
"None but them whose sires displeased the Kings o' Winter," said The Norrey. "Those came home shorter by a head. So you tell me, boy … if these wildling friends o' yours prove false, do you have the belly to do what needs be done?"
Ask Janos Slynt. "Tormund Giantsbane knows better than to try me. I may seem a green boy in your eyes, Lord Norrey, but I am still a son of Eddard Stark."
Janos Slynt wasn't an innocent child, tough guy.
+.+.+
Marsh flushed a deeper shade of red. "The lord commander must pardon my bluntness, but I have no softer way to say this. What you propose is nothing less than treason. For eight thousand years the men of the Night's Watch have stood upon the Wall and fought these wildlings. Now you mean to let them pass, to shelter them in our castles, to feed them and clothe them and teach them how to fight. Lord Snow, must I remind you? You swore an oath."
"I know what I swore." Jon said the words. "I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. Were those the same words you said when you took your vows?"
"They were. As the lord commander knows."
"Are you certain that I have not forgotten some? The ones about the king and his laws, and how we must defend every foot of his land and cling to each ruined castle? How does that part go?" Jon waited for an answer. None came. "I am the shield that guards the realms of men. Those are the words. So tell me, my lord—what are these wildlings, if not men?"
Bowen Marsh opened his mouth. No words came out. A flush crept up his neck.
That's a great point, but I wouldn't have been so sassy about it.
To be fair, I know what happens.
+.+.+
Outside the day was bright and cloudless. The sun had returned to the sky after a fortnight's absence, and to the south the Wall rose blue-white and glittering. There was a saying Jon had heard from the older men at Castle Black: the Wall has more moods than Mad King Aerys, they'd say, or sometimes, the Wall has more moods than a woman. On cloudy days it looked to be white rock. On moonless nights it was as black as coal. In snowstorms it seemed carved of snow. But on days like this, there was no mistaking it for anything but ice. On days like this the Wall shimmered bright as a septon's crystal, every crack and crevasse limned by sunlight, as frozen rainbows danced and died behind translucent ripples. On days like this the Wall was beautiful.
x
Jon Snow turned away. The last light of the sun had begun to fade. He watched the cracks along the Wall go from red to grey to black, from streaks of fire to rivers of black ice. Down below, Lady Melisandre would be lighting her nightfire and chanting, Lord of Light, defend us, for the night is dark and full of terrors.
The beginning and end of the chapter. The Wall is doing symbolism again.
+.+.+
"Winter is coming," Jon said at last, breaking the awkward silence, "and with it the white walkers. The Wall is where we stop them. The Wall was made to stop them … but the Wall must be manned. This discussion is at an end. We have much to do before the gate is opened. Tormund and his people will need to be fed and clothed and housed. Some are sick and will need nursing. Those will fall to you, Clydas. Save as many as you can."
[...]
"Lord Bowen, you shall collect the tolls. The gold and silver, the amber, the torques and armbands and necklaces. Sort it all, count it, see that it reaches Eastwatch safely."
"Yes, Lord Snow," said Bowen Marsh.
And Jon thought, "Ice," she said, "and daggers in the dark. Blood frozen red and hard, and naked steel." His sword hand flexed. The wind was rising.
What's the point of remembering those words if you're not going to do anything about it?
Final thoughts:
Often imitated, never duplicated.
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That's what happens when you expect a cheap knockoff to do the job of a real princess.
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