#jojen imagine

[the-fiction-witch]

Wooden Bath

Media game of thrones

Character Jojen reed (slight age up possibly)

Couple Jojen x Reader

Rating smut af!

Concept bath time

Smut (okay here we go) nudity/ swearing/ fingering/ BJ/ nipple play/ spanking/ full sex/ 'pet'/ 'master'/ 'good girl'/ overstimulation/ riding/ from behind/ jizz/ underwater (in bath) sex/ biting/ hair pulling/ Dom & sub/ I think that's everything.

I hurried my way along the wooden jetties, the floating pathways and wooden steps that were all so overgrown with moss and ivy you'd swear they were a part of the earth itself, they even moved and swayed with the water and wind of the marshy lands. I headed inside my little marsh house in the general keep of the greywater watch, it didn't really have a keep. The castle of grey water was built on crannog and so like the pathways it floated and shifted as required the house was a tall tower that blended into the trees. I shut up my little house and slipped my jackets and such off leaving me in only my thin green dress throwing my belt to the floor. I wrapped a cloth around my hand and pulled the cauldron from the fireplace, tipping the hot boiling water into the wooden tub as I was in need of a bath. I set it back over the flames and refilled it with water, throwing a marsh frog or two in for soup. I let the water cool throwing in my wash cloth and my soap letting it bubble a little before turning my attention to myself in the mirror slowly pulling my knotted hair out of its braids and twists as I stood in my thin rough green dress the one button all that prevented me from being naked as I wore nothing below it on these warmer days, my nipples even poking through the dress as they often did. I checked my water again and was about to slip off my dress when I heard a sound behind me.

"Hello pet" his dark voice chuckled making me jump turning to my door in shock

"Master reed-" I began seeing the young man, heir to house reed, Jojen. Dressed as usual in his houses colors with his matted fur over his shoulders 

"Humm don't act surprised pet. You knew I was coming" he smirked 

"I suppose I did," I blushed "forgive me I was about to have a bath"

"Were you? I got here just in time then" he smirked slipping his fur off and some of the more lordly parts of his clothes leaving him in his off green shirt and tight brown leather pants and boots he came close to me leaving me with no room to escape checking my water himself "go on then, don't want the water to get cold" 

"But your here-" I began

"Like it's anything I haven't seen before" he smirked fiddling with the little button on my dress making me gasp "excited to see me pet?" He cooed running his hand up to grasp my breast and rub my nipple with his thumb in a clockwise circle 

"Uhh jojen-" I gasped 

"Ummm I'll take that as a yes" he growled "go on pet. Have your bath." He demanded "or I'll have to give you… something else for being such a dirty girl" 

"Yes master reed" I nodded fixing my hair a little pulling it up into a ponytail 

"Don't you toy with me pet" he growled, grabbing the little button of my dress and giving it a firm jank, ripping it from the fabric leaving nothing to keep it together exposing my pale skin to him which he immediately stroked from my stomach up towards my breasts "so beautiful. Go on, before I changed my mind about letting you have a bath" he smirked moving to sit on my bed I giggled and slowly slipped off my dress leaving me naked, he looked over every inch of me with a dark wicked smile I did try and hide myself but he only smirked more "no point hiding pet. Nothing I haven't seen before. You forget I have already seen you and already seen what will happen tonight I'm just watching it live" he smirked "in your bath and we'll get you cleaned up"

"Yes master reed" I blushed climbing into the hot steaming water 

"Go on, clean yourself up"

"You don't want to help me master?"

"Not yet pet. Soon" he winked 

I giggled and rubbed the soap across my washcloth making sure I had plenty of bubbles, running them across my arms slowly and seductively, he merely smirked watching me as I scrubbed my body clean I did make sure to be slow and sensual for him especially when cleaning my breasts and my legs 

"Hummm dirty little thing aren't you pet" he growled moving over kneeling beside my wooden bath tub 

"Maybe you should help me be clean Jojen"

"Alright. But I get to do it" he smirked slipping his shirt off and giving my lips a soft but passionate kiss as his hand slipped into the water he stroked my thigh pushing it apart before moving his hand to meet my clit rubbing it softly before pushing his fingers deeper inside me 

"Uuughhhh! Jojen!" I squealed pulled back unable to stop my moans as his fingers moved hard and slow rubbing on my clit where he needed too

"Yeah you like that pet?"

"Uuuuuuuhhh!'

"Do you?"

"Yes master" I blushed leaning my head against the wooden tub my back often arching in the water from his fingers movements "uuuuuuuuuuughh! Uuuuuuuhhh!"

"Awww your so cute when your horny"

"Uughh jojen-"

"Does my dirty little pet love masters fingers inside her?" He cooed leaving kisses on my neck 

"Yes" I gasped 

"Hummm does she wish It was masters cock?"

"Uuuuuuuhhh yes! Please Jojen"

"Hummm my dirty little pet. You really did need a bath didn't you" he growled grabbing my breast "ummm such a dirty girl" he cooed "turn over. Now" he demanded

"Yes master" I blushed moving to my stomach keeping my head out of the water of course he slapped my ass hard "AHH! Jojen!"

"Maybe I wouldn't be so harsh of my pet wasn't so dirty" he growled spreading my ass before returning his fingers inside me far more mercilessly then before

"Uuuuuuuhhh uuughhhh Jojen please -"

"I don't know dirty little girls shouldn't get to cum" he smirked slapping my ass 

"Please," I whined 

"On one condition pet" he smirked 

"Yes Jojen?" I cooed he got to his feet stripped off his clothes leaving him naked climbing on my wooden bathtub with me sitting at the other end stroking his hard cock 

"Come and ride on master" he cooed 

I blushed but moved over and sat on his lap leaning my hands on his bare chest often stroking his prominent v "don't just touch pet. Inside"

"Inside where?" I smiled playing innocent

"I don't care. Your mouth. Your ass. Your pussy. So long as I'm inside you" he growled 

"Alright" I giggled moving to let him slip inside me "uuuuuuuuuuughh! Jojen!"

"Uhhh fuck! You dirty girl" he growled grabbing my ass hard groping me as he guided me to ride him "ummm you're such a dirty girl. The biggest bath in the world couldn't clean my dirty pet" he growled kissing my neck and shoulders 

"Uuuuuuuhhh uuuuuuuuuuughh!" I moaned unable to hold back how good he felt inside me 

"Yeah you like that?" He growled holding my hips to thrust as deep as he could

"Uhhh!"

"You like that?"

"Uuuuuuuhhh!" 

"Say how much you love it and I'll let my pet cum down masters cock"

"Uuuuuuuhhh Jojen please!"

"Say it. Say how much of a dirty girl you are. How bad you need me. How much you love your master"

"Uuughhhh! I love my master so so much"

"Humm cute pet. Ohhh yeah you dirty little thing" he growled his attention turning to my breasts as they had now gotten hard from our playing and from partly rubbing on his chest he took my breasts in his hands making sure to rub some soapy bubbles over them before his fingers mercilessly plaid with my nipples twisting them and rubbing them to cause even more pleasure which he worked into forcing me to ride and grind against him "humm I should have you chained up in the watch pet. You're such a cute plaything." He Cooes "but then I'd we'd run into trouble wouldn't we. I'd be fucking my pet every night, you'd end up with my seed inside you. And that would be a scandal wouldn't it pet? Heir to house reed knocking up some little marsh girl" he growled "I don't think anyone would blame me, after they saw what a dirty girl you are for me."

"But then some bigger lord boy might want me instead?" I giggled

"He might. But I'd start a war for that pussy pet."

"You would?"

"Happily" he smirked pulling me to kiss him his thrusts getting faster so I matched him as best I could even if his playing and thrusts left me a squealing mess "hummm you love that don't you?" He growled and I nodded "humm say it and I'll let you cum" he growled moving a hand to mercilessly rub my clit

"Uhhhhh uuuuuuuuuuughh Jojen please!"

"Say the magic words and you can cum"

"Uuuuuuuhhh uuuuuuuuuuughh! Uhhh master! Uhhh I love you!" I squealed as my orgasm hit making me slightly squirt my body shaking before I collapse against his chest gasping for breath and he moved his hands to the small of my back and my ass 

"Awww good girl pet." He Cooes slowly Letting me ride it out as he peppered me with kisses "good girl. I love you too" he Cooes 

"We should get out the waters getting cold" I giggled

"Ohh. No." He smirked "were not done yet pet" he smirked forcing us over so he knelt on the bottom of the tub and I was on my back my head against the tub he held my hips tightly putting my legs on the rim as he mercilessly thrusted pounding inside me with little regard for mt overstimulated screams "awww your so cute. You really thought you'd act so dirty and get off with just a few slaps and a little nipple play. Hummm you should know master better then that pet" he growled moving fast and hard leaving me to scream "ummm my dirty little thing. Maybe I should take you to grey water with me. Chain you up and have you at the end of the bed to suck my cock every morning, by my bath to ride me, on my balcony so I can look at the view an fuck that slutty ass. Uuuuuuuhhh! Come on pet. Or I swear I'll tie you to your bed and give you the sort of spanking a dirty little thing like you deserves"

"Uuuuuuuhhh Jojen please i-"

"I know you can pet. And I know your close already. Uuuuuuuhhh you know master can't cum without feeling his pet cum around him" 

"I already -"

"I know. But I want it again. And your going to do it. Or I will tie you up and have you choking on my cock until morning" 

"Uuuuuuuhhh Jojen please-" I screamed knowing I was close from being so overstimulated

"Uuuuuuuhhh yes! Yes! Uuuuuuuhhh fuck pet!" He moaned biting his lip and shutting his eyes as he focused so intensely "uuuuuuuuuuughh uuuuuuuuuuughh! Fuck you dirty girl!"

"Ahhhhhhh! Jojen!" I squealed feeling a second orgasm rush though me and as soon as I did he frozen up his jaw hanging low his head thrown back as he finished deep inside me 

"Uuuuuuuhhh… uuuuuuuhhh! Uughhh. Fuck. Fuck" he groans "ummmmm you dirty dirty girl" he Cooes kissing me before he pulled out making us both groan between our rappid gasps I giggled a little already feeling his seed slipping out due to my wetness and the surrounding water I just laid in the cooling water letting my mind clear from the mad rush of pleasure he learnt on the other side clearly doing similar "I love you so much y/n"

"I love you too Jojen"

"Fuck. You took it out of me pet" he complained climbing out the bath laying on my bed still dripping wet but I had a cloth already there for me anyway

"Yeah you did too" I giggled getting out and cuddling with him on my bed he happily cuddled me too letting me lay on how chest 

"I really do love you y/n. And I love getting to see you even just for sexy time"

"I love you too Jojen and I love our sexy time"

"well … my father isn't expecting me back till dark so, how about I throw my dirty girl on her bed and eat her pretty pussy a while?"

"No Jojen I need a rest"

"Fine" he pouts "...my dirty girly on her knees sucking master's cock?"

"Well… humm yes master" I cooed moving to my knees on the floor and taking him in my mouth being gentle at first but that didn't last long as he rolled and groaned against my bed 

"Uuuuuuuhhh! Uuuuuuuhhh! Uuuuughh!" He moans "uuuuuuuuuuughh yes! Yes! Uuuuuuuhhh you dirty girl" he groans grasping my sheets tightly"uuuuuuuuuuughh stop stop!"

"What's wrong?" I asked moving back

He gasped struggling for breath "uhhh you'll make me cum pet" 

"Isn't that what master wants?" I cooed innocently licking his shaft 

"Uuuuuuuhhh! You dirty little thing!" He growled so I took him back onto my mouth "uuuuuuuuuuughh don't you fucking dare!" He demanded but I still sucked and licked bobbing my head faster and faster giving him no escape from the endless pleasure of my- "uuuuuuuuuuughh! Uuuuughh! Uuuuuuuhhh fuuuuuck!" He groans his hips jerking erratically as he came in my mouth I giggled and swallowed even licking him clean leaving him a gasping mess "you dirty girl. Pets are meant to do as their master says" he warns Still trying to think straight after that 

"I gave master what he wanted" I giggled getting to my feet innocently stroking my naked body for him 

"Did you now?" He growled grabbing my hips forcing me down on my stomach slipping four fingers inside me 

"Uuuuuuuhhh! Jojen!" I screamed 

"You don't get to decide that pet" he growled in my ear pulling my hair hard and then slapping my ass "I'm gonna spank you till your too sore to sit down. Maybe then my dirty little pet with learn who's the pet and who's the master" he smirked fingering me mercilessly all while he slapped and spanked my ass hard leaving me with tears from both overstimulation and the pain of his slaps my ass sore and likely red from his spanking all while I was dripping down my legs from his fingers "hummm two orgasms and still dripping for master. Pretty little pussy knows what it wants too bad my let can't behave herself. If she did her pretty pussy would get everything it wants so badly. Ohhh yeah this little pussy wants it bad. I can feel you dripping. Clenching,  throbbing around my fingers pet. You must be so desperate for my cock. Even after everything I've already done to you" he smirked spanking me again "my pet must love masters cock so much" he growled 

"Uuuuuuuhhh yes! Jojen please i-"

"Quiet. You want everyone in westeros to know what a dirty girl you are?" He smirked "I'll let you rest on one condition"

"Yes?"

"Who owns this beautiful pussy?"

"My master"

"Good girl. Who can fuck it whenever they want?"

"My master"

"Who gets to use you like the dirty girl you are?"

"My master"

"Who do you obey. No matter what it is I ask?"

"My master"

"Good girl" he smirked moving his hand away letting me rest with one final slap across my ass and he carefully flipped me to my back "good girl pet" he Cooes kissing me gently "hummm look at that" he smirked straightening up a little I blushed hard seeing he was now fully hard again "my pet being so wet and dirty got master all hard. What are we going to do about that?' he Cooes

I blushed giggling a little and opening my legs wider 

"Humm that's my girl" he smirked climbing ontop of me.

[lovebaela]

THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH - MASTERLIST

(Bran Stark x Fem!Targaryen OC)

“ 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 , 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝑶𝒍𝒅 𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒓𝒊𝒂 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒆 , 𝒊 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒏’𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅 .”

⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𝑹𝑯𝑨𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨 𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑨𝑹𝒀𝑬𝑵 ⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Rhaella is the daughter of Mad King Aerys’ younger brother. Before the rebellion of Robert Baratheon, he fled to the Summer Isles, where he fell in love with a woman. He married her and they both consummated their marriage. Rhaella doesn’t know much about her parents, and always struggled with having a true home. One fateful day, her cousin Viserys sent her away to the Starks. Little did he know, that was the start of her journey of self-discovery.

“ 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒂 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒌 , 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑴𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒆 , 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆’𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅 . 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 .”

⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑵 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑲 ⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Bran is the fourth child of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully. All he ever wanted was to become a knight. He always thought one day he would join the kingsguard. That was until the day he found out he was betrothed to Rhaella. He didn’t think much of it, still able to be a warrior…until the day he became broken. All he wants is to find a purpose now in his life.

✮ ₊ Chapters ✧ ᵔ₊ 𓆪

1, 2, 3, 4

Disclaimer: I don’t own asoiaf, any pictures, or gifs that I use in the series🤍

Art by eleneyaart, fredrickruntu

Dividers by @saradika-graphics @saradika

Taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea

[hollowwhisperings]

Jojen is Fine, Actually: "Weirwood Paste" is Weirwood Paste.

CW: humanitarian diets, body horror, general blasphemy, mention of grooming (in the context of creepy tree wizards).

Okay so my being a HUGE Jojen (& House Reed in general) fan gives me an Obvious Bias against the idea of Jojen Dying Offscreen.

My being a huge literary nerd & lore geek, however, informs my Metaphor Senses that Jojen is Fine*, Actually.

The "Weirwood Paste" is Weirwood Paste: made of weirwood seeds, locally sourced. Said "Local Weirwood Tree" being. Y'know. Brynden Rivers.

It's Brynden Paste.

(*Fine: chronically ill, majorly depressed, freezing cold, surrounded by creepy tree people, stuck in a zombie wasteland, if he ever goes home he Dies, repeatedly dreaming of his own death... but, at least, Not Dead nor Being Eaten by the Prince of his Dreams? He's "Fine".)

First and foremost: storytelling conventions, even in a series as "deliberately unconventional" as ASOIAF, tend to tell audiences that NO ONE is genuinely "dead" until you see a body. And personally check its pulse. And test for rigor mortis. And maybe stab them in a lethal place, jusr to be Sure. And then burn the body, scatter its ashes, send couriers off in different directions to hide what remains in Remote Places never to be known of by the other couriers. Maybe Silence the couriers if they come back.

Er, you get the picture.

Most subscribers to "Jojenpaste" are in it for the lolz or assume The Worst due to Jojen's non-presence in the latest Bran chapters (aaand Jojen's being Very Permanently Dead in That Dragon Show). It's also an "easy" assumption that Since GRRM Is GRRM, any & all opportunities for Humanitarianism will be fully utilized.

Except... the weirwood paste is ALREADY "made of people" just because it's Weirwood (specifically, weirwood seeds) and the series has consistently described weirwood trees as "[human]".

Weirwood have "bone white" bark; they have Faces carved into them; they "Watch" and "Listen" and "Witness": this is consistent across POV characters, even before Jojen casually brings up "oh they're what Greenseers Become" or any meetings with a Literal Tree Man.

Weirwoods are described in human terms, doing human things, and at least 1 major character has been directly equivicated with Weirwoods for Plot Purposes: Ghost the Direwolf (and wolves, of course, are consistently used to mean "someone of House Stark" and the Starklings especially).

Then there is The Creepy Tree Man in the room: Brynden Rivers, called "Three-Eyed Raven" by Bran and Jojen (for that was how their Dreams interpreted him) or "The Last Greenseer" by the Singers (...despite BRAN very pointedly Being There To Prove Otherwise).

Brynden is also, as mentioned, a Tree Now.

A Weirwood Tree.

Y'know. Like the ones whose seeds make the Paste Bran's been eating.

So, unless the Singers have been sneaking about in Others' Territory to collect seeds from a different weirwood tree... that Paste is made of BRYNDEN.

Bran being fed "Brynden Paste' while Brynden Indoctrinates Teaches Bran to be a Tree Wizard makes far more sense, logistically & thematically, than Jojen getting shanked offscreen to belatedly be revealed to be "part of Bran all along".

For one thing, Meera would gladly set the Cave & everyone in it on fire if anyone so much as looks at her baby brother suspiciously. For another, Brynden is Right There for the eating & is filled with all sorts of Prophecy Juice: he's a Blackwood, he's a Targaryen, he's a Royal Bastard, he was an Infamous Spymaster with "A thousand eyes and one", he's done weird sacrifice BS before, he's a Greenseer (Jojen "only" has Greensight), he's a Living God (as per Singer & First Men Lore), the Cave Cult is trying to turn Bran INTO him...

There is a lot more "logic" to Bran's Magic Lessons featuring his knowingly (subconsciously, at least) eating Brynden than his secretly eating his friend. Human sacrifice tends to require Knowledge of the cost being paid & being Willing to do it anyway: Bran might be too tripped up on Paste to consciously connect the "Weirwood Paste" he eats with "that Human Weirwood Tree i'm sitting next to" but the Singers explicitly tell Bran the Paste is made from Weirwood Seeds. Bran "knows".

Godeating (metaphoric & literal) is a trope that is most commonly found in JRPGs, nowadays, but it has Precedent throughout western mythology: the Titan Kronus ate each of his children as they were born, Zeus alone escaping, in an effort to Dodge Prophecy; Zeus inherited Said Prophecy and, being his Father's Son, ate his first wife. The details of the Titanomachy (the War against the Titans by their reasonably upset kids) are Lost but Zeus, at least, gained all his Wife's Wisdom (& her pregnancy too) after eating her: Athena may or may not have Taken It Back upon breaking out from her Eaten Mother & Dear Old Dad.

Consuming something in order to "become" what is eaten is Fairly Common, if not with that specific phrasing: vampires seldom explain their reproduction as "eat me to become me", whilst the adorable Nintendo character Kirby & his method of Powering Up via Playing Vacuum, is Rephrased out of Sheer Self-Preservation (no one, not even I, likes to admit that The Cute Pink Blob is an Eldritch Abomination). Many JRPGs & works in eastern media use similar themes of "monster eats monster" and "let's eat god" for the purposes of High Stakes Action. Japan & East Asia has a lot less "baggage" when it comes to utilizing themes from Abrahamic verse, meaning that western works using themes of [consuming the divine] and [apotheosis] use Vampire Methodology. Such is the case in the Dragon Age series & its Order of Grey Wardens (who are, From A Certain POV, dragon god vampires).

Within the ASOIAF series itself, Dany's eating a horse heart (raw) has Humanitarian Themes in service of Prophecy and [Divinity]: the horse heart to the Dothraki, a society of horselords, could be what weirwood seeds are to First Men (especially given Jojen's whole "btw, the trees are gods are former greenseers").

Brynden & the Cave's Singers (whom I dearly hope are some long-exiled Cult & not reflective of Singers as a whole) are not particularly subtle in their Intentions for Bran: he is to be their New "Last" Greenseer. Bran is to Become Brynden or Brynden is to Become Bran: either and possibly both are plausible, though how compliant with the Singers' goals Brynden may be has yet to be revealed.

(the Brynden of F&B and D&E strikes me as someone who would gladly bodysnatch some poor kid for his own Agenda: the Singers seem unlikely to support fire-breathing foreigners, not without a Contingency Plan; somewhat likely to want Bran for the purposes of installing a Tree Hivemind Police State; and maybe, possibly... "just" wanting a Second God for their Cult in Bran, who probably Smells Better).

SUMMARY

Weirwoods are Personified in almost every appearance. Weirwood Trees are considered Gods. Jojen (& some Singers) have stated that the Next Evolutionary Phase of a Greenseer is "Weirwood Tree". Brynden "the Last Greenseer" is part of a Weirwood Tree.

Brynden & the Singers are Turning Bran Into A Weirwood Tree.

Bran's current diet is Tree Paste. His magic teacher, Brynden, is Part-Tree. The Nearest Tree to make Paste from is Brynden. The Paste is made of Brynden.

(Let's NOT think too hard on which parts of Brynden: I've only gotten this far in this Meta by using "Hunanitarian" as a pun.)

Eating Gods to Become A God is an existing Trope. Brynden is a God, by Singer & First Men definitions. Bran is being Groomed to Become Brynden, a God. To Become Brynden, Bran must Eat Brynden.

TL;DR

The Weirwood Paste is Weirwood Paste and Brynden is the Weirwood: the Paste is not "Jojen", it's BRYNDEN.

Jojen is Not Paste: Jojen is Alive but Not Well & Very Depressed.

[kingsmoot]

WHATTT what do you have against maester luwin???

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

I can’t help but feel that Jon specifically being the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch is perhaps the most important role he can have. The average Westerosi really doesn’t care much about a prophesied prince or king. They’re not too fussed about magic swords meant to kill snarks and grumkins. What they do know is that when the Others come knocking, it’s the Night’s Watch that stands between them and death. The Watch may have fallen on harsh times and may lack the prestige it once had, but it has a very real history of being the one line of defense in Westeros. It’s even accredited in songs as being the cause of victory in the first Long Night. And where legends fall out of fashion and eventually become forgotten, the Watch has been an ever present and tangible figure in Westeros for thousands and thousands of years. So what happens when winter really comes? Westeros won’t look for a prophetic savior. The first thing they’ll look to is the Watch. And who leads the Watch at the moment? Jon. And by extension, who will be the one people look to for survival and leadership? It’s Jon. Jojen said it best: at night, all cloaks are black. In the upcoming war, all of humanity becomes a part of the nights watch. And Jon becomes humanity’s natural leader. If we ever see another great council, I imagine that Jon will be offered the crown primarily because of his position as the LC and his actions leading the war effort. His parentage will merely be an added bonus; assuming it’s even considered in the first place.

[axelsagewrites]

Lucerys Velaryon*Study

Paring: Modern!Luke x gn!reader

Platonic: Luke x Bran x Jojen

Summary: Luke finally has an opportunity to get close to his crush but now he's scared his brothers and uncles will ruin it.

Word count: 2479

Masterlist Here

Biology was Lucerys least favourite subject but when the teacher began to list of who was paired with who for the partner assignment, he didn’t know whether to jump for joy or sink into his chair when she read your name. Despite never speaking to you Luke had a massive crush on you, something only his friends Bran and Jojen knew. Bran shot him a cheeky grin before high giving Jojen who he had just been partnered with.

“There’s five minutes left so please go find your partner and set up a time to study,” Mrs Lannister said before turning back to her computer to look up more ways to torture children Luke assumed.

Suddenly his legs became noodles, and he couldn’t bring himself to stumble out of the chair. He glanced over at you and saw you pack up your bag before approaching him which made him quickly look away. “Hi,” your voice was sweeter than he imagined and caused his cheeks to tinge a mortifying shade of pink.

“Hey,” he croaked as he finally looked up from his book he pretended to read. Up close he realised you were even more beautiful, “So looks like we’re partners then,” his eyes darting between you and the clock as if it would make him seem cooler.

“Guess so,” you said, almost a giggle. The blush set deeper into his skin at your laugh, “So are you free tomorrow after school?”

“For what?” Luke sat up straighter in his chair and you laughed as a dopey grin spread on his face.

“To study,” a teasing grin spread on your lips that drove him wild yet also made him deflate. “Otherwise, I’ll be busy until like Saturday,”

“Yeah, sure tomorrow works,” his heart was beginning to skip beats at this point, “Where?” he managed to croak out.

You paused for a moment to think, and Luke took the time to admire how your eyebrows scrunched, “My parents would probably ask us a million questions at mine so would we be able to just study at yours?” you asked, and Luke quickly nodded in agreement. The idea of you in his room in his house with him? Amazing. Even as study partners, “Okay great I’ll give you my number,” you said as you took the pen, he had been tapping out his hand and scrawled it into his notebook, “Just text me the address and I’ll come around 4?”

“Yeah, sure that’d be great,” Luke grinned as he took the pen back from you.

A perfect smile fell on your lips that made his head spin, “I’ll see you then. Bye Luke,” He watched as you walked away to return to your friend’s side.

“Dude!” Jojen grinned as he slapped Luke’s shoulder, “This is your in,”

“Yeah, finally you can’t wuss out,” Bran joked causing Luke to slap his friends head, “Hey! It’s like you don’t want us to help you,”

“How are either of you gonna help me?” None of the three had ever had a girlfriend and were considered the geekiest guys of their year. None of them knew anything about girls. But he knew some people who did.

His uncle Aegon was a known ladies’ man, but Luke assumed that came with being on the football team. Aemond as well was no stranger with women however unlike his brother he tended to keep them around for more than a week. His brother was practically the school heartthrob, but Luke knew Jace would never let him live it down if he asked for girl advice.

Then the next day he realised something horrible as he walked into school and saw his brother and uncles talking. “Shit,” Luke said causing his friends to turn their attention back to him, “Aemond and Aegon are coming over tomorrow to play Jace’s new Xbox,” Bran shut his locker with a dramatic sigh and Jojen cringed at the thought.

“It’s too late now to cancel on them now,” Jojen told him. “You’ll look like a massive douche,”

“Yeah, but those three are the biggest douches,” Bran jumped in before looking at Luke and adding a no offence.

Luke shook his head, “Oh my god they’re never gonna let me live it down. What if they try and talk to us?”

The three began to walk towards their first class as Luke debated throwing himself out a window, “Surely they’re not that bad?” Jojen asked.

“You can tell you don’t have brothers,” Bran said as he wheeled himself alongside his friends. “They’re awful. Robb locked me outside the house last week when he had his girlfriend over. it was raining,”

“Ouch,” Jojen muttered, “Thank god I have sisters,”

“They’re not much better,”

“Guys this is about me,” Luke butted in causing the pair to roll their eyes but finally focus on the issue at hand, “How am I supposed to get them in the house without being caught but without looking like a total weirdo?”

Luke was so wrapped up in his own dilemma he didn’t notice you walking towards him until you spoke. “Hey Luke, we still good for tonight?”

“Totally,” Luke beamed when he saw you.

Blush took over him when you rest your hand on his arm. “Okay great I’ll see you at four. Can’t wait study buddy,”

“Cool,” Luke gushed as you walked away, “Man she’s so pretty,”

Bran scoffed and began to wheel off even quicker, “You’re such a simp,”

“Am not!”

The day moved painfully slowly as Luke waited for the final bell to ring so he could run to find you to set his plan in motion. While his brother sucked his mother was somehow less embarrassing. Well hopefully. He texts her to ask if she would pick you both up after school and she had agreed without question. When the last bell rung Luke sprinted out of class and rushed to your locker.

Luckily for him you were still at it, “Luke!” You exclaimed when the boy ran up to you.

“Hey, my mum said she could just drive us to mine the now if you want,”

“I mean yeah sure if she doesn’t mind that’d be great,” You grinned as you quickly grabbed your stuff to follow Luke who was walking oddly fast. “Don’t you need to stop at your locker?”

“Nope,” Luke said as he held the door open for you before speed walking to the parking lot where he saw his mom’s black SUV parked. “C’mon she’s over here,”

Luke looked around for his brother before he ushered you into the car, opening the door for you and closing it behind you before running round to the other side to clamber in. “Hi Mrs Velaryon. Thanks for the lift,” you said, and Rhaenyra smiled at you through her rear-view mirror.

“Just call me Rhae and its not problem sweetie. Buckle up you two,” she said as Luke was still looking out the window to make sure his mother didn’t see you, “Is Jace needing a ride Luke?”

“No, he’s walking. Can we go?” Luke said and you shot him a confused Luke at his hurry, “We just have a lot of work to do for this assignment,”

“Whatever makes you actually do your homework,” Rhaenyra mumbled before pulling out of the parking space and driving away.

Luke saw his brother in his mother’s rear-view mirror looking at them but just pretended not to see the boy. While his mothers questioning of you did slightly embarrass Luke it was just typical mum stuff. You even commented on how sweet she was when Luke opened the door for you to get out the car.

“I usually make dinner at six so if you’re still here you’re welcome to join Hun,” Rhaenyra said as he shut the front door behind her.

“I’ll let you know thank you Rhae,” you said, and Rhaenyra smiled at you using the nickname, “So where are we studying?” you turned to Luke.

“My room,” Luke said as he grabbed your arm to pull you up the stairs with him.

You didn’t argue but couldn’t help shooting him a confused Luke and Rhaenyra was even more curious as she stood at the bottom of the stairs, “Keep the door open!” She yelled.

Luke ushered you into his room before shutting the door behind him, “Sorry about her,” Luke said, as he led you into his room which he had stayed up all last night cleaning.

You laughed as you took a seat on his gaming chair, he used for a desk chair and placed your bag down, “She’s just being a mom its fine,” you said as you began to spin in his chair causing Luke to laugh at your actions, “Why were you in such a rush though? This project is defo not that interesting,”

“Yeah well,” Luke said as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I just wanted to get a head start,”

“I don’t mind,” you said as you began to pull out your biology notes. “Do you have yours here?”

Luke sighed and closed his eyes tight in annoyance, “I left them in my locker,”

You burst out laughing at his confession which made Luke smile and feel slightly less stupid, “Oh my gods your lucky you’re cute. You can share mine,” the words had left your mouth without thinking and when you realised you felt your skin grow red.

“Thanks,” Luke stuttered out as his own flush fell on his cheeks.

Once you began studying the tension wasn’t nearly as bad. While you did stay on track at first after fifteen minutes you began to discuss your shared hatred of Mrs Lannister, “Did you know one-time last year I was walking into her class and she- “you were laughing as you told your stories but suddenly stopped when the door open, a blush covering your face as you quickly looked back at your notes.

Luke turned around from where he was sat on his bed to see Jace standing in his doorway, a grin covering his face. Luke’s face fell at the sight. “What?” he asked as his brother walked into the room, picking up his notebook he had started talking notes in before they got distracted.

Jace held it out his reach when Luke went to snatch it back, “Mum said to ask if your friend was staying for dinner,” Luke glanced at the clock to look at the time and saw that they had already spent an hour and a half talking about everything but biology, “How’s studying going?” Jace asked as he flicked through mostly empty notebook.

“Fine,” Luke grumbled as he snatched it back from his brother. Luke turned to you who was sat quietly on his chair, “Um would you wanna get dinner here?” he asked. He cursed the fact he was now blushing in front of his brother.

“Eh yeah sure um I’ll just need to text my parents,” you said before quickly looking at Jace then back to Luke, “Tell her thank you,” you said.

Jace nodded before turning to leave, ruffling Luke’s hair then shoving head as he went. When he walked out though he left the door wide open, “Can you shut the door?” Luke groaned.

“Mum said not to,” Jace grinned as he pushed the door open wider, “Happy studying,”

As soon as Jace walked away Luke went up to shut the door when you spoke, “Maybe we should leave it a little bit open. I don’t want your mum to be upset with me,” Luke nodded and left the door open a crack before sitting on the bed again. “So, I guess we should try finish this then,”

“Yeah,”

You spent the next half an hour studying and with your help he finally seemed to understand the work he was doing. “So, if we do this, I think that it means- “Luke was saying but you cut him off when you nodded towards the door.

“Nephew,” Aegon grinned as he leaned on the doorway, “Nephew’s date,” he nodded at you causing your face to beam bright red.

“We’re just friends,” Luke mumbled, glancing at you who refused to look up from the notes, “What is it?”

“Dinners ready lovebirds,” Aegon grinned before sauntering off and laughing as he went.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re just- “

“It’s okay I get it,” you said as you closed your textbook, “Let’s just go eat yeah?”

Luckily Rhaenyra was there during dinner to stop any of the older boys’ comments or questions. At least the deliberately mocking ones. Aemond insisted on questioning you about the project and Jace on generally everything in your life. Aegon only asked one, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Aegon!” Rhaenyra chastised her brother.

“Or girlfriend?” He quickly added causing Rhaenyra to grumble.

Luke shot him a deadly glare as you mumbled a no which made Luke at least a little happy knowing he had a shot. “Don’t you think you’re a bit old for them?” Rhaenyra asked her brother.

“I wasn’t asking for me sweet sister,” he grinned before turning his attention to mock his own brother for whatever it was, he had unknowingly done.

When dinner was over you, both quickly returned to his room, and you began to gather your notes. “You’re leaving?” Luke asked with a frown.

You gave him a small smile, “It’s a bit crowded here. Maybe another time when they’re not all here?” you offered, and Luke nodded and helped you gather your things and walked you to the door. your parents were waiting for you outside as you and Luke walked down the stairs. “Are you busy Saturday?” you asked as you approached the front door.

Luke shook his head, glancing at his uncles and brother playing Xbox on the couch. “No. Are you wanting to study? My stepdad gets back Friday with his kids so it might be a bit crowded again,” Luke said as he scratched the back of his neck.

A blush crept across your face, “I was thinking more of the mall or a movie,” you offered, and Luke felt his heart skip in his chest.

“To study?” he asked but you just shook your head no with a small smile, “Yeah I’d love that,” Luke grinned as he opened the door for you, “Text me?”

“For sure,” you said, glancing to where your parents were parked. Without warning you leant in and pressed a soft but brief kiss to his cheek, “See you Saturday,” you said before running down the driveway and into your parents’ car.

Luke ignored the wolf whistles coming from his family on the couch and stared after you with a dopey grin. You waved as you drove away, and Luke did the same. He shut the door with a dopey smile still on his face. “I’ve got a date,”

part two here

[allovesthings]

I know I still complain a lot about D&D fucking everything up for us, years after game of thrones ended but here the thing, asoiaf has a lot of things that if done well, would be amazing on screen.

I made a post about the festival of the masks and the unmasking in Braavos earlier and can you imagine if they made the choice to actually have that on screen ? The colors and everyone being masked ? It could be such a cool scene if done well.

I also already talked about Lady Stoneheart's introduction and how I just can picture it, how it is the perfect scene to adapt and they just never did it.

Bran, Meera, Jojen,Sam and Gilli at the Nightfort and the passage in the mouth of a weirwood is genuinely, in my opinion, one of the most spooky and creepy and amazing piece of magic in the entire books and because they were against the magic in a fantasy story about magic, we never actually got it (also one of the few things I wasn't spoiled on when I read it).

Speaking of magic, the House of the Undying in the book deserved its own place in there. This was the opportunity to have fun with the visual media that was the show,considering how much weird stuff Dany keep seeing. Not to mention, it is the perfect occasion for foreshadowing and then they just...didn't.

In the hand of other people with actual talent and imagination, can you imagine how good it could have been ? That's why I'm still talking about it years after and why it really still bother me so much.

[jozor-johai]

Revisiting the Rat Cook, part 3: "Just Eat"

The third part of my ongoing series in which I examine how the themes and symbols present in the "Rat Cook" story, as relayed in ASOS Bran IV, and how those elements reappear throughout ASOAIF.

Part one is here and part two is here, but hopefully these also stand alone as well.

To anyone who is reading this part first, "Revisiting the Rat Cook" is a series that is built on the understanding that GRRM's use of metadiegetic legends provide a "road map" of symbols and meaning, used in their abstract form, which we, as readers, can use to better understand the relationships between symbols, motifs, and themes as they reoccur throughout ASOAIF as a whole. The Rat Cook story is about a rat which eats rats, or a cook who serves kings; The Rat Cook story is about fathers and sons, about cannibalism, about trust, about vengeance, and about damning one's legacy.

"Just Eat"

Last post, I talked about various moments where the flesh of men and the flesh of pigs were compared: times where dead pigs evoked dead sons, where dead sons evoked dead pigs, and where human victims would "become" pork in death. Finally, at the end, I talked about what some part of that transformation said about guest right in particular, a key part of the "Rat Cook" story. I pointed out how guest right is a social construct, necessary to maintain peace in a community, where those feeding and those being fed can both trust that they will come to no harm.

In this part of the series, I'm going to reach a similar conclusion about guest right, approached from a different angle. This part is about the relationship between "hosts" and "guests", and what it means when a character is being forced into the role of the "Andal King" from the Rat Cook story, who was unwittingly fed his own son. What does it mean, in ASOIAF, when a character cannot trust the provenance of their food, especially in the most extreme case: being fed human flesh.

Recognizing the dynamics between the Rat Cook and the Andal King, the inherent trust between those who feed and those who are fed, the host and the guest, and the power dynamics between a liege and a lowly cook, we see that the fear of the unwilling cannibal in the Rat Cook story is also a fear of the betrayal of those dynamics.

The fear of being turned cannibal unwillingly is referenced in AFFC Arya II, when Arya is being hosted—and fed—-by the House of Black and White, and when, after preparing dead bodies, she suddenly considers the similarity between eating human flesh and eating pork:

Once, as she was eating her supper, a terrible suspicion seized hold of her, and she put down her knife and stared suspiciously at a slice of pale white meat. The kindly man saw the horror on her face. "It is pork, child," he told her, "only pork”

This interaction is mirrored with another reassurance that meat is only pork, when Coldhands offers Bran and his party a “sow” in ADWD Bran I. Bran does not make the connection with cannibalism explicit, nor does anyone else present, but the reality of the meat’s provenance is far more clearly suspect:

Meera Reed was turning a chunk of raw red flesh above the flames, letting it char and spit. "Just in time," she said. Bran rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and wriggled backwards against the wall to sit. "You almost slept through supper. The ranger found a sow."

This scene is particularly haunting, perhaps because this is a rare instance of actual cannibalism, rather than imagined cannibalism. Martin creates this moment's unsettling atmosphere by highlighting each of party in turn, using gruesome language to describe them eating:

Behind her, Hodor was tearing eagerly at a chunk of hot charred flesh as blood and grease ran down into his beard. Wisps of smoke rose from between his fingers. "Hodor," he muttered between bites, "hodor, hodor." His sword lay on the earthen floor beside him. Jojen Reed nipped at his own joint with small bites, chewing each chunk of meat a dozen times before swallowing. The ranger killed a pig.

In this instance, the meat is notably never directly called pork—it is “chunks of meat”, it is “hot charred flesh” still running with “blood”, which evokes Victarion’s hot pork-crackling arm as well.

Bran’s internal affirmation that “the ranger killed a pig” is given its own sentence and its own paragraph—it’s a connected idea, but it’s not what’s happening. Still, a man—once butchered—may become a “sow” in the same way that the Rat Cook, too, became as “big as a sow”, just as we saw with the butchered butcher’s boy, Micah.

Bran, for his part, nearly puts the ideas together. Without eating, he drills Coldhands as to what happened to the men chasing them, whose disappearance comes simultaneous to the appearance of the “sow”.

"What happened to the men? The foes behind us?" "They will not trouble you." "Who were they? Wildlings?" Meera turned the meat to cook the other side. Hodor was chewing and swallowing, muttering happily under his breath. Only Jojen seemed aware of what was happening as Coldhands turned his head to stare at Bran. "They were foes." Men of the Night's Watch. "You killed them. You and the ravens. Their faces were all torn, and their eyes were gone." Coldhands did not deny it. "They were your brothers. I saw. The wolves had ripped their clothes up, but I could still tell. Their cloaks were black. Like your hands."

In the midst of the questions about the men, our attention is again drawn each of the party eating in turn, further strengthening the connection between a slain man and a slain sow. These were men of the Night’s Watch, as was Coldhands, we presume, so they are Coldhands’ “brothers”, and so again this is the slaying and serving of family. And again, for the rest of the party, already eating when Bran wakes, it is unwilling, unknowing cannibalism. Coldhands, like the Rat Cook, has offered a meal and called it pork; mimicking the Andal king, the recipients don’t question its origin—for, at this point, they trust the "host" they are with—and instead, they find it delicious, just as Sam feared he would while Bannen burned. After all, turning cannibal is one thing, but as shown in the passage from the last post with Sam and Bannen, it is a sickening thought to come up with on one’s own. To be an unknowing cannibal, though, is always possible, but only so long as there is a stark betrayal of trust.

This scene with Coldhands, especially if we suspect that Coldhands is feeding Bran's friends the flesh of men, is a harsh reminder of that same essential idea from the Rat Cook story: that the sharing of food is always an exchange of trust in its very nature. As I've said before, the notion of “guest right” reflects that—you must trust the person feeding you to eat the food they serve you, and you’ll only feed those whom you trust and want to welcome. The Rat Cook story, of course, is the pinnacle of betraying that trust, and the cook himself is punished for exactly that; the Andal King, for his part, believed he could accept what he was served, which is how the Rat Cook was able to enact his vengeance.

We are also reminded of this relationship between shared food and trust when Quentyn is in Meereen, talking to the Tattered Prince. This exchange notably uses pie as a metaphor, too, doubly prompting the reader to recall the Rat Cook story here.

In ADWD The Dragontamer, Quentyn is faced with a life-or-death moment of trust over the Brazen Beasts’ code word. Quentyn doubts the veratity of this information, wondering whether the Tattered Prince really knows the code words... and he receives this in response:

“But a prince should know better than to pose such questions, Dornish. In Pentos, we have a saying. Never ask the baker what went into the pie. Just eat.”

As Quentyn points out himself:

“There was wisdom in that.”

In this moment, we may be given an insight into the mind of the “Andal king” (even if Quentyn is only a Rhoynar Prince). If this is the Pentoshi version of “don’t look a gift horse in the mouth”, then its phrasing is curiously resonant with the Rat Cook story, with pies of unknown provenance. Quentyn is reminded here of the importance of the unspoken rules of trust between allies; the trust is mutual, and he must trust the Tattered Prince if he is to be trusted himself. Similarly, just as the Rat Cook should have been bound by the laws of hospitality, the Andal King was bound by those same laws of trust, and didn’t question what was happening. Did the Andal King ever learn the fate of his son? We don’t hear that side in the version that Old Nan tells Bran.

As for Quentyn, it’s worth noting that this trust turned out to be ill-fated.

Seemingly, the code word did not help, and perhaps Quentyn’s skepticism was worthwhile. Of course, even that isn't the full story—it’s possible that the Tattered Prince was being true, and the plan was only ruined by the machinations of the Shavepate and some rat-masked Brazen Beasts. (I may return to this idea in a later part, but only if I feel confident enough to tackle Dany and Meereen, which really is quite a knot.)

If this scene with the Tattered Prince provides an in-world reminder of how the exchange of food provides a metaphor for the dynamics of a given scene, then when the stakes are possible cannibalism, then the stakes of that metaphorical comparison are heightened as well. Unwilling cannibalism is, in a way, the pinnacle example of betraying that host-guest trust.

It makes us reconsider our scene with Arya:

Once, as she was eating her supper, a terrible suspicion seized hold of her, and she put down her knife and stared suspiciously at a slice of pale white meat. The kindly man saw the horror on her face. "It is pork, child," he told her, "only pork”

Arya questioning the origin of the meat in the House of Black and White is just as equally a valid question to ask about her entire wellbeing in that setting—she has no true reason to trust that the House of Black and White wants the best for her, nor that she is safe in their care. This concern is a concept allegorically played out in the serving of the food. Metaphorically, she has doubts as to whether she can trust what the Faceless Men are “feeding” her—are they feeding her lies, or the truth? Are they feeding her pork, or dead men?

The Kindly Man is reassuring, as he always is, but all he can offer is reassurance—like Arya questioning the food she is being served, this moment suggests that she ought to be questioning the hospitality she is receiving in the House of Black and White in its entirety.

Returning to the scene with Bran and Coldhands, we can apply the same thinking, and that context illuminates the direction the conversation takes. First, it is about the meat that Coldhands has served them. Then, it is about the men who Coldhands has killed, whether they were allies or foes, and whether they were brothers. This pairing of ideas links serving the suspicious meat of the alleged “sow” with the question of whether to trust Coldhands; Bran considers the Night’s Watch his allies, and is rightfully suspicious of those who would kill Night’s Watchmen, not knowing that these particular Night’s Watchmen were foes. Finally, though, the conversation turns to Coldhands himself, continuing where we left off in ADWD Bran I:

“Coldhands said nothing. ‘Who are you? Why are your hands black?’”

This, immediately after the prior discussions, continues to link these major ideas of the Rat Cook story—the slaying of family, the unwilling cannibalism, and the trust that is necessary to end up in such a terrible fate. Bran’s party is blindly trusting Coldhands to take them somewhere, as they trust him to feed them pork, not human flesh; as they continue to follow him north, Bran’s party metaphorically does not know what they are being “fed”, in a sense—is it the destination they believe, or is it something else? Further confirming this thought process, linking the unknown meat with the unknown journey, the questions continue to the logical conclusion:

"Show us your face." The ranger made no move to obey. "He's dead." Bran could taste the bile in his throat. “Meera, he's some dead thing. The monsters cannot pass so long as the Wall stands and the men of the Night's Watch stay true, that's what Old Nan used to say. He came to meet us at the Wall, but he could not pass. He sent Sam instead, with that wildling girl." Meera's gloved hand tightened around the shaft of her frog spear. "Who sent you? Who is this three-eyed crow?"

Bran is faced with the same fears that strike Arya in the House of Black and White:

If they cannot trust what they are being fed, can they trust where they are being led?

The notion of finding a sow in the tundra may be as likely as finding a benevolent wizard in the wastes of the far north, but that is what Bran still believes even at this moment.

Coldhands feeding them human meat under false pretenses, and his refusal to be honest or direct about the source of the meat, therefore marks a betrayal of that trust—and possibly portends a betrayal of the other trust as well. The question of their journey’s end, and whether they are being told the full story about their destination, naturally follows the question of whether they are being fed false “pork”.

Did the Andal King have similar misgivings that he similarly ignored, believing instead in the social covenant of guest right that he had entered into? If the Andal king had denied the pork pie, would he have been in the right for his skepticism, or in the wrong, as the Tattered Prince says, for “asking the baker what went into the pie”? Is it, as Quentyn says, wiser to trust? The Rat Cook story that Bran recalls moves on from this question without answering it. We never learn if the Andal King ever learned the truth. "The Rat Cook" instead goes on to focus on the aftermath of the incident, and the fate of the cook, whose punishment, again, was not for forcing cannibalism but for betraying the trust of guest right.

In the next few parts, I'm going to stray away from eating men for a while and focus on eating rats—what I think rats symbolize in ASOIAF, espcially when paired with the action of eating. After all, it's in the story's title: the "Rat Cook", and "rats" are as key a symbol as cannibalism, pork, and pies. Later, though, I'll be returning to this issue of trusting in a social contract, like guest right, so it's good to keep this idea in mind, as well as the power dynamics inherent in eating and being fed, when considering what it means to eat rats, too.

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Ideas #48: GoT, but Rhaegar gets his Visneya

Can we all take a moment to appreciate just how lucky everyone was that Jon Snow was born looking like a Stark rather than anything like any other bloodline he might have had? Whoever you assume his parents to be, Ned's claim to be his father and failure to tell anyone anything about Jon's mother would have fallen apart quickly if Jon had anything of his other parent in him.

So I started to wonder: What if Rhaegar got his Visneya? Or: What if female Jon Snow looked Targaryen?

Aka: The Daena the Dreamer Fic

Just imagine it:

Ned Stark arrives at the Tower of Joy just as Lyanna gives birth to a silver-haired, violet-eyed baby girl she names Daena.

There is no earthly way Ned can claim the girl as his own daughter, as there is almost nothing of the Starks in her. So Howland Reed claims her as his bastard with a dragonseed and agrees to hide her away in Greywater Watch, where very few people will ever see her and start to ask questions Ned doesn't want answered.

Howland raises Daena with all the love and care he gives his biological children. Very few cragnommen believe they share blood, but all agree Daena is Howland's child of the heart.

Although no one never explicitly says anything, Daena is always aware Howland isn't her biological father. Her dreams tell her otherwise...

...as from a young age Daena has been having Dragon Dreams. Many of them are dreams of the past, but some of them are dreams of the terrible future they will all face if the Three-Eyed Raven has his way and ends House Targaryen once and for all.

About a year before Jon Arryn dies, Daena sets out to weaken the Three-Eyed Raven. She doesn't do this by heading beyond the Wall and confronting him, but by heading south and prothletising the Old Gods.

It's slow going at first, but as chaos and civil war take Westeros following Ned Stark's execution, she gathers a group of followers around her - a group that becomes a full-on movement after the Red Wedding, when her Band of the Laughing Tree becomes the strongest, most stabilizing force in the Riverlands. Yes, there's some burning of Septs and hanging of enemies from Weirwoods, but it's still largely a positive force.

The religion of the Old Gods spreads, particularly as events in King's Landing highlight the corruption of the Faith of the Seven.

When Aegon VI arrives in Westeros, Daena and the Band of the Laughing Tree are there to greet him. It's a bit fraught, as Aegon VI hadn't expected anyone to be waiting for him, let alone someone claiming to be his half-sister, but it goes well enough once he realizes they're there to join him.

The Targaryen Restoration goes as better than Aegon VI could ever have hoped, with many seeing Daena's support for him as proof from the Old Gods that he's the son of Rhaegar. Dorne quickly falls in line and most of the Reach abandons the Tyrells in favor of the last Targaryens.

After Aegon VI is crowned (with Daena doing the crowning) she asks him to turn his attention to the Night King and the Three-Eyed Raven. Both are quickly killed in the short War for the Dawn that follows and many important Targaryen relics are recovered from Bloodraven's cave.

Among those lost in the fighting are Jojen Reed, who thought to aid his foster sister by bringing the fight to the Three-Eyed Raven, and Bran Stark, whose mind was slowly being taken over by Bloodraven.

Daena and Ageon VI end up marrying to secure the crown, though very few courtiers would call it a love match. They do their duty and love the children they have together, but live more like siblings than a married couple.

Bonuses include: 1) A low-key romance between Daena and Jojen, never actualized because of their ages and circumstances, but very much one day we could have something, if the gods allow. Jojen's death should be part of the reason Daena agrees to marry Aegon; 2) Daenerys never having seriously believed Aegon VI was her nephew, being highly surprised by his blink-and-you'll-miss-it reconquest of Westeros, and deciding ruling over the empire she's built in Essos is better for everyone than contesting for the Iron Throne. When she dies without heirs, she wills her empire to the Seven Kingdoms a la Attalus III; and 3) A detailed look at the religion of the Old Gods and the mythology of the North - and the consequences of its spread vis a vis the Faith of the Seven.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you chose to do anything with it.

Other Jon Snow Headcanons: Aelor the Accursed | Aegon the Adopted | Aegon the Undying | Aegon the Unyielding | Aemon the Adventurous | Baelor the Brave | Daena the Dreamer | Daeron the Desired | Dyanna the Defiant | Jon Whitefyre | King of the Ashes | Lady Arryn | Lady Baratheon | Lady Lannister | Lady Stark | Lord of the Dance | Prince Consort | Prince of Summerhall | Queen Mother | Rhaegar the Righteous

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[the-fiction-witch]

The girl in the water p2

TV SHOW GAME OF THRONES COUPLE JOJEN X READER RATING FLIRTY AF

I sat in my room pondering as I often did watching the marshwater from my rooms window, the flickers of the flames that lit the walkway to grey water, the orange light causing reflections on the water broken up only by the lizard lions who swam back and forth to the rocks. A few of them perched there resting on the rocks as they often did and I looked at their reflection as clear as day in a mirror of the world.

I was so confused about it all. How did I see her? How did I hear her? How did she blow me little kisses? In those moments she seemed as real to me as anyone else. I sighed and looked back at the lizard lions reflection and I saw not only the rocks. The trees. The lizard lions. But her. Perched on the rocks with them as I had seen her reflection before, perfect and sweet. I looked up to the rocks and nothing but in the water she was as clear and real as the lizard lions. 

She smiled at me and waved so I waved back, she blew me a sweet kiss so I blew her one back too. But she disappeared. I looked everywhere for her reflection but nothing so I came inside shutting my window. I went and ran myself a hot bath to try and take my mind if it once I was full I began to strip my clothes off and it was then I saw her. Her face reflected in my still bathwater as if she was leant on my tub she giggled at me and moved away as if moving back from the tub. I ignored it likely my mind playing tricks. So I climbed into the tub and began to wash myself for a while, but once I was done I stopped and let the water go still the only thing moving it slightly was my breaths and again I saw her reflection this time as if she was in the bath with me sat at the other end I grabbed at the reflection getting nothing but water and of course destroying her reflection 

"Jojen." She giggled "you can look but mustn't touch" she whispered 

"What are you?"

"A Specter. Trapped within the water's gaze" she's smiled 

"How is it… I can see you?"

"We shared a time in the water"

"We did?" I asked letting it go still again so again I could see her 

"Your fever. Don't you remember"

"When I was sick. I was so close to death… that when you died we were Spector's together weren't we. Only moment's apart but I survived"

"So I wait"

"You're waiting… for me?" 

"Ummm it's okay I don't mind waiting."

"So when I die… I'll go with you?"

"Umm hum" she nods 

"So until then your just stuck like this?"

"Yes but it's okay I rather like it" she smiled moving for a moment I was confused I lost her again but she appeared beside my own reflection as if cuddled up with me "I don't mind to wait." She smiled giving my cheek a little kiss and it was like I felt it like I felt her sweet little kiss as real as anything. "Come on or you'll get cold" she says one again her reflection disappearing I climbed out my bath and looked around for her again and I saw her reflection in my goblet of water beside my bed so I followed her reflection to my bed.

[lovebaela]

♡ Ice & Fire - m.list (Discontinued)

Genre: Romance, fluff, smut (I’ll try LOL), angst

Pairing: Bran Stark x Targaryen OC

Age: 15+ (honestly I don’t care who reads this but basically mature audiences)

তততততততততততত তততততততততততত

♡ Chapters:

Introduction + Prologue

Chapter 1 - Winter is Coming

Chapter 2 - The Tower

Chapter 3 - King’s Landing

Chapter 4 - The Beginning of War

Chapter 5 - The Harvest

Chapter 6 - Journey to the Wall

Chapter 7 - Craster’s Keep

Chapter 8 - The Three-eyed Raven

Chapter 9 - Home

Chapter 10 - A Night in the Sky

Chapter 11 - The Wedding

Chapter 12 - Together at Last

Chapter 13 -

┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈

TAGLIST: @icarusignite @rinisfruity14 @katdahlali @joliettes @alexisf12 (I’ll gladly add you if you want, just make sure you comment and ask!)

[mkstrigidae]

I wish you'd write a Jonsa fic where Sansa gets taken by the fae when she's older ;)

Oh my gosh, this has SO many possibilities! (More under the cut!)

Of course, it all depends on whether Jon is a hot fae prince or not.... ;)

If he is, you might get your wish, anon! (I need to get it together and actually get that fae AU polished and published, though).

But if he isn't... well that's interesting too, isn't it? Imagine a human Jon in love with human Sansa, who's suddenly been abducted by some sort of fae king/prince (Who really knows why- maybe she's lovely enough that he wants to collect her like a particularly interesting specimen of beetle, maybe they take her for her singing voice, or her skill at embroidery- maybe this fae king just sees her, takes a liking to her, and decides he needs her in his court. The possibilities are endless).

Jon is devastated when Sansa disappears, and can't entirely understand why others have begun to forget her- like she's just never existed at all. He and probably Arya and Bran (neither of whom can forget their sister, even as Rickon's memories disappear) are hell bent on getting Sansa back- whatever it takes.

Bran probably has the sight, and might be the only one who realizes what's actually happened to Sansa. He shows Jon and Arya how to wash their eyes in a fae-touched spring so that they can see as well, and they set about trying to figure out where exactly Sansa is, while accumulating a number of interesting allies along the way. A troll named Gendry who takes a liking to Arya, a sprite called Ned Dayne who flits about gathering information for them. A brother and sister- both goblins who share the gift of prophecy- called Jojen and Meera. Jon's best friend Sam, who has no idea this is all real, but has been obsessed with lore about the fae since he was a child. A terrifying woman in red- a high elf that they hardly trust and who keeps insisting that Jon has a larger destiny than this.

In their search, they encounter a coy dragon with beautiful white scales and violet eyes who seems to take a liking to Jon and agrees to help- for a price. If Jon can recover her crown, stolen hundreds of years ago by a pride of extremely dangerous manticores, then Dragon-Daenerys will tell him exactly how to get into the fae king's realm so that he can spirit Sansa back home. Jon is broody and angsty the whole time because he's eighteen kinds of in love with Sansa and desperate to get her back.

This probably culminates in Jon having to duel said fae king for the right to return to the mortal realm with Sansa. It's (of course) a rigged competition because he doesn't want to give Sansa up and there's a whole thing where Jon finds out that he's actually a faery changeling himself (which was why he didn't forget her in the first place- Bran already had the sight, and Arya managed it out of sheer stubborness and love). Will Jon win? Will Sansa be trapped in the fae realm for the rest of eternity? Will Arya get to kiss her hot, hunky troll Gendry? Will there be an extraordinary amount of angst?

(of course there will be- this is jon we're talking about).

adsjfklhasfklajfh anon I'm so mad because this is SUCH a good idea and i have NO TIME to write it at the moment 😭😭😭 Thanks so much for the ask- I'm sorry it's taken me so long to answer!

Send me an anonymous ask completing the sentence “I wish you would write a fic where…”

[daenystheedreamer]

Se: characters suicide baiting and because you mentioned Meera, imagine Jojen suicide baiting by like, telling someone how they'll die. Like he's not saying you kys, he's saying you're gonna kys

Meera adds a little "yeah<3" at the end of the message (Jojen is not allowed alone time on the tablet yet because at his age he should play outside, according to Howland)

MEERA WOULDNT SUICIDE BAIT she is kind and cheerful and sweet. jojen perhaps mostly because that concept is so funny to me lol. im a big gamer bran truther and u know how gamers get. jojen and bran in their minecraft server but theon got the link to it somehow and now brojen are constructing a huge sign that says KI$$ YOUR SELF and in tiny print jojen has written a huge paragraph detailing his prophecy about theon getting chained to a 4channer's radiator

[15-lizards]

I like to project so that’s why I love to imagine ASOIAF characters as ppl who live in the American South

Texas Oil Mogul Lannisters. They have a residence in the city but their main place of living is on their ridiculously big ranch house next to all their oil rigs. Tywin runs that shit like the navy and no he doesn’t care about the environmental effects. Tyrion does damage control to the press, Jamie the heir would rather be doing literally anything else, and Cersei can’t understand that Tywin doesn’t want her to inherit the business (she has a different PR crisis every month)

Swamp people Greyjoys (Florida edition). They are just so Florida Man coded I’m sorry. They def live in the boonies. Balon sits on the porch all day and bitches instead of doing anything. Asha does all the actual work (fishing, trapping, gator hunting). Aeron is super into the crazy Baptist church down the road. Theon walks around barefoot and drugged out of his mind bc he’s just like that. Euron is the weird uncle that tried to bring home an alligator as a pet. Multiple times.

Swamp people Reeds (Louisiana edition). The better swamp people sorry ab it. They live way down south in a rickety old house on the river and they have about three neighbors within a ten mile radius. Very mysterious and isolated but if anyone is sick Meera will be at your doorstep with all her grandma’s weird remedies to make you feel better (and they always work). Jojen is the kid that the local church thinks needs an exorcism. Howland is the strange neighbor you go to if you want all your problems to go away without question

West Virginia Appalachian Baratheons. A working class family with a mining history. Everyone is too stubborn to move away from their ancestral home. Robert makes and sells moonshine out in the backyard. Renly is the smoothest talking, most charming and popular motherfucker in town. All the old ladies and moms love him. Stannis left to go to college and immediately got rid of his accent when he moved, and he hates going back to visit, even when Shireen begs him. Whenever they visit, Shireen teaches the old neighbors how to read if they never learned :,)

Alabama Tyrells. They have two residences, a McMansion in the suburbs and a big farmhouse in the country (they got rid of their family plantation bc Olenna thought it would be bad publicity). Mace is an old school southern gentleman who everyone likes even if he’s a bit ridiculous. Olenna is THE head of all the socialite women in town. Willas is studying to take over the family business (nobody even really knows what it is, they own like everything in town). Garlan and Loras are both D1 football players who are going straight to the NFL. Margaery is a pageant queen/cheerleader/sorority girl who definitely had a society debut.

South Texas Martells. They have a big ass cattle ranch near the mountains. Doran is a big name in state government, he has billboards up all over the highway for his re-election campaign. Oberyn lives off the family money with no real job and likes to travel out of the country, but does philanthropy every now and then to boost his reputation. Elaria is a hot topic of conversation for all the ladies, because she’s Oberyns middle class mistress who had kids out of wedlock. And the Sand Snakes are definitely all accomplished horseback riders, Oberyn taught them on the ranch himself, to everyone else’s discomfort.

Okay thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Bran III (Chapter 34)

This is as close as I'll ever come to copying and pasting an entire chapter.

The moon was a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife. 

x

The moon was fat and full. 

x

The moon was a black hole in the sky.

x

The moon was a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife. 

x

The moon was fat and full. 

x

The moon was a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife. 

x

The moon was a black hole in the sky. 

x

The moon was a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife. 

What is that, three months?

Imagine how bored Meera, Jojen, and Hodor are. I love Bran, but I'd hate being his friend.

+.+.+

Red leaves whispered in the wind. Dark clouds filled the skies and turned to storms. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, and dead men with black hands and bright blue eyes shuffled round a cleft in the hillside but could not enter.

What's Daenerys doing in a Bran chapter?

I'm kidding, except not really. She's all over this chapter.

+.+.+

Sometimes the sound of song would drift up from someplace far below. The children of the forest, Old Nan would have called the singers, but those who sing the song of earth was their own name for themselves, in the True Tongue that no human man could speak. The ravens could speak it, though. Their small black eyes were full of secrets, and they would caw at him and peck his skin when they heard the songs.

[...]

Bran and Meera made up names for those who sang the song of earth: Ash and Leaf and Scales, Black Knife and Snowylocks and Coals. 

Ash, Scales, Black Knife, Coals. . . fire/dragon imagery? Mmkay.

The ravens are cawing and pecking at Bran's skin whenever they hear the children singing their secret songs. Feels kind of hostile.

+.+.+

The last greenseer, the singers called him, but in Bran's dreams he was still a three-eyed crow. When Meera Reed had asked him his true name, he made a ghastly sound that might have been a chuckle. "I wore many names when I was quick, but even I once had a mother, and the name she gave me at her breast was Brynden."

"I have an uncle Brynden," Bran said. "He's my mother's uncle, really. Brynden Blackfish, he's called."

"Your uncle may have been named for me. Some are, still. Not so many as before. Men forget. Only the trees remember." 

Gross, I hope not.

Brynden Rivers = BloodRaven. Get it, get it??

Once it's revealed he's a Targaryen we can safely label him a villain who will orchestrate his own demise.

The last greenseer, the singers called him

This makes no sense.

+.+.+

"Most of him has gone into the tree," explained the singer Meera called Leaf. "He has lived beyond his mortal span, and yet he lingers. For us, for you, for the realms of men. Only a little strength remains in his flesh. He has a thousand eyes and one, but there is much to watch. One day you will know."

The tree ate Bloodraven. Good.

Is Bloodraven an instrument of the children? Are they co-conspirators? They don't care that he's an Andal? I'm having a difficult time wrapping my head around this.

+.+.+

"What do the trees remember?"

"The secrets of the old gods," said Jojen Reed. Food and fire and rest had helped restore him after the ordeals of their journey, but he seemed sadder now, sullen, with a weary, haunted look about the eyes. 

[...]

"Maybe you could be greenseers too," he said instead.

"No, Bran." Now Meera sounded sad.

"It is given to a few to drink of that green fountain whilst still in mortal flesh, to hear the whisperings of the leaves and see as the trees see, as the gods see," said Jojen. "Most are not so blessed. The gods gave me only greendreams. My task was to get you here. My part in this is done."

Jojen's watch has ended.

+.+.+

The singers made Bran a throne of his own, like the one Lord Brynden sat, white weirwood flecked with red, dead branches woven through living roots. They placed it in the great cavern by the abyss, where the black air echoed to the sound of running water far below. Of soft grey moss they made his seat. Once he had been lowered into place, they covered him with warm furs.

King Bran on a weirwood throne.

+.+.+

"Never fear the darkness, Bran." The lord's words were accompanied by a faint rustling of wood and leaf, a slight twisting of his head. "The strongest trees are rooted in the dark places of the earth. Darkness will be your cloak, your shield, your mother's milk. Darkness will make you strong."

I don't think it takes a genius to figure out we don't want Bran embracing darkness.

However, that doesn't mean Melisandre's little crusade is based in reality or morally justified.

"FREE FOLK!" cried Melisandre. "Behold the fate of those who choose the darkness!" - Jon III, ADWD

+.+.+

Flying was even better than climbing.

Slipping into Summer's skin had become as easy for him as slipping on a pair of breeches once had been, before his back was broken. Changing his own skin for a raven's night-black feathers had been harder, but not as hard as he had feared, not with these ravens. "A wild stallion will buck and kick when a man tries to mount him, and try to bite the hand that slips the bit between his teeth," Lord Brynden said, "but a horse that has known one rider will accept another. Young or old, these birds have all been ridden. Choose one now, and fly."

He chose one bird, and then another, without success, but the third raven looked at him with shrewd black eyes, tilted its head, and gave a quork, and quick as that he was not a boy looking at a raven but a raven looking at a boy. The song of the river suddenly grew louder, the torches burned a little brighter than before, and the air was full of strange smells. When he tried to speak it came out in a scream, and his first flight ended when he crashed into a wall and ended back inside his own broken body. The raven was unhurt. It flew to him and landed on his arm, and Bran stroked its feathers and slipped inside of it again. Before long he was flying around the cavern, weaving through the long stone teeth that hung down from the ceiling, even flapping out over the abyss and swooping down into its cold black depths.

My gut tells me this all leads to a confrontation with Drogon.

That may sound silly, but that is exactly what the show insinuated would happen. They were just too lazy and out of time/budget to adapt it.

+.+.+

"Someone else was in the raven," he told Lord Brynden, once he had returned to his own skin. "Some girl. I felt her."

"A woman, of those who sing the song of earth," his teacher said. "Long dead, yet a part of her remains, just as a part of you would remain in Summer if your boy's flesh were to die upon the morrow. A shadow on the soul. She will not harm you."

You couldn't escape Jon foreshadowing even if you tried.

+.+.+

"Do all the birds have singers in them?"

"All," Lord Brynden said. "It was the singers who taught the First Men to send messages by raven … but in those days, the birds would speak the words. The trees remember, but men forget, and so now they write the messages on parchment and tie them round the feet of birds who have never shared their skin."

Dot, dot, dot.

Maybe we should be paying attention to talking ravens!

+.+.+

He wished Robb were with them now. I'd tell him I could fly, but he wouldn't believe, so I'd have to show him. I bet that he could learn to fly too, him and Arya and Sansa, even baby Rickon and Jon Snow. We could all be ravens and live in Maester Luwin's rookery.

I went back and looked for suspicious ravens in Luwin's rookery. Nothing stood out other than the bloody raven that delivered the news of Ned's death.

A raven landed on the grey stone sill, opened its beak, and gave a harsh, raucous rattle of distress.

Rickon began to cry. His arrowheads fell from his hand one by one and clattered on the floor. Bran pulled him close and hugged him.

Maester Luwin stared at the black bird as if it were a scorpion with feathers. He rose, slow as a sleepwalker, and moved to the window. When he whistled, the raven hopped onto his bandaged forearm. There was dried blood on its wings. "A hawk," Luwin murmured, "perhaps an owl. Poor thing, a wonder it got through." - Bran VII, AGOT

A scorpion with feathers? Dried blood on its wings? Never noticed that. Those arrowheads continue to haunt me.

+.+.+

Some days Bran wondered if all of this wasn't just some dream. Maybe he had fallen asleep out in the snows and dreamed himself a safe, warm place. You have to wake, he would tell himself, you have to wake right now, or you'll go dreaming into death.

Yes, Bran! Fight! Don't go dreaming into death!

+.+.+

"I thought the greenseers were the wizards of the children," Bran said. "The singers, I mean."

"In a sense. Those you call the children of the forest have eyes as golden as the sun, but once in a great while one is born amongst them with eyes as red as blood, or green as the moss on a tree in the heart of the forest. By these signs do the gods mark those they have chosen to receive the gift. The chosen ones are not robust, and their quick years upon the earth are few, for every song must have its balance. But once inside the wood they linger long indeed. A thousand eyes, a hundred skins, wisdom deep as the roots of ancient trees. Greenseers."

Cue the fandom going nuts over anyone with green or red eyes.

The chosen ones are not robust, and their quick years upon the earth are few, for every song must have its balance.

He's so full of shit. This man was born in 175 AC, then disappeared in 252 AC.

for every song must have its balance.

What do you mean? Fire good, ice bad.

+.+.+

Bran did not understand, so he asked the Reeds. "Do you like to read books, Bran?" Jojen asked him.

"Some books. I like the fighting stories. My sister Sansa likes the kissing stories, but those are stupid."

+.+.+

"A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies," said Jojen. "The man who never reads lives only one.

I don't know why the fandom thinks George hates Sansa when she's the designated Stark Reader.

Everyone knows he favours the readers.

+.+.+

"A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies," said Jojen. "The man who never reads lives only one. The singers of the forest had no books. No ink, no parchment, no written language. Instead they had the trees, and the weirwoods above all. When they died, they went into the wood, into leaf and limb and root, and the trees remembered. All their songs and spells, their histories and prayers, everything they knew about this world. Maesters will tell you that the weirwoods are sacred to the old gods. The singers believe they are the old gods. When singers die they become part of that godhood."

what

The old gods are dead children of the forest?

+.+.+

Bran's eyes widened. "They're going to kill me?"

"No," Meera said. "Jojen, you're scaring him."

"He is not the one who needs to be afraid."

If you're afraid why did you bring him here? You foolish green boy.

I can't tell if Bloodraven wants to take Bran's life force or corrupt him. Littlefinger and the kindly man don't want to kill Sansa and Arya, but this is different.

+.+.+

Summer prowled through the silent woods, a long grey shadow that grew more gaunt with every hunt, for living game could not be found. The ward upon the cave mouth still held; the dead men could not enter. The snows had buried most of them again, but they were still there, hidden, frozen, waiting.

:(

There's too much missing from this. There's no way Meera and Bran could outpace wights for weeks, it's absurd.

+.+.+

The caves were timeless, vast, silent. They were home to more than three score living singers and the bones of thousands dead, and extended far below the hollow hill. "Men should not go wandering in this place," Leaf warned them. "The river you hear is swift and black, and flows down and down to a sunless sea. And there are passages that go even deeper, bottomless pits and sudden shafts, forgotten ways that lead to the very center of the earth. Even my people have not explored them all, and we have lived here for a thousand thousand of your man-years."

Maybe the magic breaks and Hodor briefly keeps the wights out while Bran and Meera take the river back to the Wall? I don't know, I'm throwing anything out there.

Is she being honest, or does she not want him exploring for other reasons?

+.+.+

They [the children] had nut-brown skin, dappled like a deer's with paler spots, and large ears that could hear things that no man could hear. Their eyes were big too, great golden cat's eyes that could see down passages where a boy's eyes saw only blackness. Their hands had only three fingers and a thumb, with sharp black claws instead of nails.

Say a prayer for Arya Stark.

+.+.+

That was in the dawn of days, when our sun was rising. Now it sinks, and this is our long dwindling. The giants are almost gone as well, they who were our bane and our brothers. The great lions of the western hills have been slain, the unicorns are all but gone, the mammoths down to a few hundred. The direwolves will outlast us all, but their time will come as well. 

That almost feels like code.

+.+.+

But after they were gone, he slipped inside Hodor's skin and followed them.

The big stableboy no longer fought him as he had the first time, back in the lake tower during the storm. Like a dog who has had all the fight whipped out of him, Hodor would curl up and hide whenever Bran reached out for him. His hiding place was somewhere deep within him, a pit where not even Bran could touch him. No one wants to hurt you, Hodor, he said silently, to the child-man whose flesh he'd taken. I just want to be strong again for a while. I'll give it back, the way I always do.

It's always incredibly loaded language.

"The world is full of horrors, Tommen. You can fight them, or laugh at them, or look without seeing . . . go away inside."

Tommen considered that. "I . . . I used to go away inside sometimes," he confessed, "when Joffy . . ." - Jaime I, AFFC

Bran yearns to be whole again, while Arya hungers for justice. It takes them both down a dark path.

Good thing Sansa only wants to be loved. Difficult to make something like that immoral. . .

+.+.+

He even crossed the slender stone bridge that arched over the abyss and discovered more passages and chambers on the far side. One was full of singers, enthroned like Brynden in nests of weirwood roots that wove under and through and around their bodies. Most of them looked dead to him, but as he crossed in front of them their eyes would open and follow the light of his torch, and one of them opened and closed a wrinkled mouth as if he were trying to speak. "Hodor," Bran said to him, and he felt the real Hodor stir down in his pit.

Explain to me how Bloodraven is the last greenseer. There's chambers filled with greenseers. Bran is a greenseer.

Anyway, this whole chapter might as well be Daenerys in the House of the Undying.

She is not breathing. Dany listened to the silence. None of them are breathing, and they do not move, and those eyes see nothing. Could it be that the Undying Ones were dead? - Daenerys IV, ACOK

Daenerys Targaryen does not have one Starkling foil, she has four. Thinking this all leads to Jon vs. Daenerys is buying into Targ Exceptionalism.

+.+.+

Seated on his throne of roots in the great cavern, half-corpse and half-tree, Lord Brynden seemed less a man than some ghastly statue made of twisted wood, old bone, and rotted wool. The only thing that looked alive in the pale ruin that was his face was his one red eye, burning like the last coal in a dead fire, surrounded by twisted roots and tatters of leathery white skin hanging off a yellowed skull.

The sight of him still frightened Bran—the weirwood roots snaking in and out of his withered flesh, the mushrooms sprouting from his cheeks, the white wooden worm that grew from the socket where one eye had been. He liked it better when the torches were put out. In the dark he could pretend that it was the three-eyed crow who whispered to him and not some grisly talking corpse.

One day I will be like him. The thought filled Bran with dread. Bad enough that he was broken, with his useless legs. Was he doomed to lose the rest too, to spend all of his years with a weirwood growing in him and through him? Lord Brynden drew his life from the tree, Leaf told them. He did not eat, he did not drink. He slept, he dreamed, he watched. I was going to be a knight, Bran remembered. I used to run and climb and fight. It seemed a thousand years ago.

Lord Brynden drew his life from the tree. Is he draining the other greenseers wired to the trees or feasting on human sacrifice? The children wouldn't let him suck the life from children greenseers, right?

Is he trying to corrupt Bran or eat Bran, someone tell me right now.

+.+.+

What was he now? Only Bran the broken boy, Brandon of House Stark, prince of a lost kingdom, lord of a burned castle, heir to ruins. He had thought the three-eyed crow would be a sorcerer, a wise old wizard who could fix his legs, but that was some stupid child's dream, he realized now. I am too old for such fancies, he told himself. A thousand eyes, a hundred skins, wisdom deep as the roots of ancient trees. That was as good as being a knight. Almost as good, anyway.

Despite it all our little Starklings never let go of their dreams.

+.+.+

Under the hill, Jojen Reed grew ever more sullen and solitary, to his sister's distress. She would often sit with Bran beside their little fire, talking of everything and nothing, petting Summer where he slept between them, whilst her brother wandered the caverns by himself. Jojen had even taken to climbing up to the cave's mouth when the day was bright. He would stand there for hours, looking out over the forest, wrapped in furs yet shivering all the same.

"He wants to go home," Meera told Bran. "He will not even try and fight his fate. He says the greendreams do not lie."

They don't lie, but they're misinterpreted? There's still hope!

+.+.+

"For the next step. For you to go beyond skinchanging and learn what it means to be a greenseer."

"The trees will teach him," said Leaf. She beckoned, and another of the singers padded forward, the white-haired one that Meera had named Snowylocks. She had a weirwood bowl in her hands, carved with a dozen faces, like the ones the heart trees wore. Inside was a white paste, thick and heavy, with dark red veins running through it. "You must eat of this," said Leaf. She handed Bran a wooden spoon.

The boy looked at the bowl uncertainly. "What is it?"

"A paste of weirwood seeds."

Something about the look of it made Bran feel ill. The red veins were only weirwood sap, he supposed, but in the torchlight they looked remarkably like blood. He dipped the spoon into the paste, then hesitated.

There's no chance that isn't human blood. The only mystery is whether it's Jojen's blood.

+.+.+

"Will this make me a greenseer?"

"Your blood makes you a greenseer," said Lord Brynden. "This will help awaken your gifts and wed you to the trees."

Bran did want to be married to a tree … but who else would wed a broken boy like him? A thousand eyes, a hundred skins, wisdom deep as the roots of ancient trees. A greenseer.

No weddings, it's your doom.

She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closer to the conflagration, but the brazier had not been hot enough. The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought. - Daenerys X, AGOT

x

mother of dragons, bride of fire . . . - Daenerys IV, ACOK

x

She looked at her son, watched him as he listened to the lords debate, frowning, troubled, yet wedded to his war. He had pledged himself to marry a daughter of Walder Frey, but she saw his true bride plain before her now: the sword he had laid on the table. - Catelyn XI, AGOT

Remember how dumb people believe 'bride of fire' means literal marriage to a Targaryen? Lol.

+.+.+

He ate.

It had a bitter taste, though not so bitter as acorn paste. The first spoonful was the hardest to get down. He almost retched it right back up. The second tasted better. The third was almost sweet. The rest he spooned up eagerly. Why had he thought that it was bitter? It tasted of honey, of new-fallen snow, of pepper and cinnamon and the last kiss his mother ever gave him. The empty bowl slipped from his fingers and clattered on the cavern floor. "I don't feel any different. What happens next?"

Dany raised the glass to her lips. The first sip tasted like ink and spoiled meat, foul, but when she swallowed it seemed to come to life within her. She could feel tendrils spreading through her chest, like fingers of fire coiling around her heart, and on her tongue was a taste like honey and anise and cream, like mother's milk and Drogo's seed, like red meat and hot blood and molten gold. It was all the tastes she had ever known, and none of them . . . and then the glass was empty. - Daenerys IV, ACOK

+.+.+

Bran closed his eyes and slipped free of his skin. Into the roots, he thought. Into the weirwood. Become the tree. For an instant he could see the cavern in its black mantle, could hear the river rushing by below.

Then all at once he was back home again.

Lord Eddard Stark sat upon a rock beside the deep black pool in the godswood, the pale roots of the heart tree twisting around him like an old man's gnarled arms. The greatsword Ice lay across Lord Eddard's lap, and he was cleaning the blade with an oilcloth.

"Winterfell," Bran whispered.

His father looked up. "Who's there?" he asked, turning …

… and Bran, frightened, pulled away. 

See, calling it the deep black pool makes me link it to the cave river.

The visions we're about to be shown are happening in reverse chronological order. We'll place this around 298 AC.

Most important thing about this vision is that Ned 100% heard Bran.

+.+.+

Bran's throat was very dry. He swallowed. "Winterfell. I was back in Winterfell. I saw my father. He's not dead, he's not, I saw him, he's back at Winterfell, he's still alive."

"No," said Leaf. "He is gone, boy. Do not seek to call him back from death."

She says that like they're not responsible for all these living dead things walking around.

Is that something Bran could do? Call someone back from death? I'm thinking Jon here.

+.+.+

"A man must know how to look before he can hope to see," said Lord Brynden. "Those were shadows of days past that you saw, Bran. You were looking through the eyes of the heart tree in your godswood. Time is different for a tree than for a man. Sun and soil and water, these are the things a weirwood understands, not days and years and centuries. For men, time is a river. We are trapped in its flow, hurtling from past to present, always in the same direction. The lives of trees are different. They root and grow and die in one place, and that river does not move them. The oak is the acorn, the acorn is the oak. And the weirwood … a thousand human years are a moment to a weirwood, and through such gates you and I may gaze into the past."

"But," said Bran, "he heard me."

"He heard a whisper on the wind, a rustling amongst the leaves. You cannot speak to him, try as you might. I know. I have my own ghosts, Bran. A brother that I loved, a brother that I hated, a woman I desired. Through the trees, I see them still, but no word of mine has ever reached them. The past remains the past. We can learn from it, but we cannot change it."

The moment you realize baby Bran is way more powerful than this musty Targ.

He spoke to Ned.

"Winterfell," Bran whispered.

His father looked up. "Who's there?" he asked, turning …

He spoke to Jon.

Red eyes looked at him. Fierce eyes they were, yet glad to see him. The weirwood had his brother's face. Had his brother always had three eyes?

Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.

[...]

Don't be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this. And the tree reached down and touched him. - Jon VII, ACOK

He'll speak to Theon.

The night was windless, the snow drifting straight down out of a cold black sky, yet the leaves of the heart tree were rustling his name. "Theon," they seemed to whisper, "Theon."

[...]

A leaf drifted down from above, brushed his brow, and landed in the pool. It floated on the water, red, five-fingered, like a bloody hand. "… Bran," the tree murmured. - A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

And I'm almost positive he spoke to Arya without the assistance of any tree.

Calm as still water, a small voice whispered in her ear. Arya was so startled she almost dropped her bundle. She looked around wildly, but there was no one in the stable but her, and the horses, and the dead men. - Arya IV, AGOT

This is why I'm more inclined to believe the talking environment found throughout the story is always Bran. Bloodraven can't do that.

The past remains the past. We can learn from it, but we cannot change it.

If he can be heard, does that mean he can also change the past?

You probably don't want to do that though. I learned that from movies.

"A man must know how to look before he can hope to see,"

Give me 5 minutes on Reddit and I'll find someone theorizing Bloodraven was warging inside Syrio Forel.

+.+.+

"He heard a whisper on the wind, a rustling amongst the leaves. You cannot speak to him, try as you might. I know. I have my own ghosts, Bran. A brother that I loved, a brother that I hated, a woman I desired. Through the trees, I see them still, but no word of mine has ever reached them. The past remains the past. We can learn from it, but we cannot change it."

Um, do I look like a Targ historian?

Pick three of the following names, and assign them wherever you want, I don't care.

Daemon I Blackfyre, Aegor Rivers, Daeron II Targaryen, Shiera Seastar.

+.+.+

"Once you have mastered your gifts, you may look where you will and see what the trees have seen, be it yesterday or last year or a thousand ages past. Men live their lives trapped in an eternal present, between the mists of memory and the sea of shadow that is all we know of the days to come. Certain moths live their whole lives in a day, yet to them that little span of time must seem as long as years and decades do to us. An oak may live three hundred years, a redwood tree three thousand. A weirwood will live forever if left undisturbed. To them seasons pass in the flutter of a moth's wing, and past, present, and future are one. Nor will your sight be limited to your godswood. The singers carved eyes into their heart trees to awaken them, and those are the first eyes a new greenseer learns to use … but in time you will see well beyond the trees themselves."

He can see well beyond trees. Like in throne rooms, and the Red Mountains of Dorne.

As his men died around him, Littlefinger slid Ned's dagger from its sheath and shoved it up under his chin. His smile was apologetic. "I did warn you not to trust me, you know." - Eddard XIV, AGOT

x

He could hear her still at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. - Eddard I, AGOT

I understand time is not linear for Bran, but can he see the future or not? On the show he could.

+.+.+

Hodor carried Bran back to his chamber, muttering "Hodor" in a low voice as Leaf went before them with a torch. He had hoped that Meera and Jojen would be there, so he could tell them what he had seen, but their snug alcove in the rock was cold and empty. 

This does not mean Jojen is dead! This doesn't make Jojen paste real!

We should be skeptical of deaths that allegedly happen off screen.

+.+.+

Watching the flames, Bran decided he would stay awake till Meera came back. Jojen would be unhappy, he knew, but Meera would be glad for him, He did not remember closing his eyes.

… but then somehow he was back at Winterfell again, in the godswood looking down upon his father. Lord Eddard seemed much younger this time. His hair was brown, with no hint of grey in it, his head bowed. "… let them grow up close as brothers, with only love between them," he prayed, "and let my lady wife find it in her heart to forgive …"

"Father." Bran's voice was a whisper in the wind, a rustle in the leaves. "Father, it's me. It's Bran. Brandon."

Eddard Stark lifted his head and looked long at the weirwood, frowning, but he did not speak. He cannot see me, Bran realized, despairing. He wanted to reach out and touch him, but all that he could do was watch and listen. I am in the tree. I am inside the heart tree, looking out of its red eyes, but the weirwood cannot talk, so I can't.

Let's place this around 284 AC.

Close as brothers? I thought they were brothers, Eddard.

Holy god, N + A = J is stupid.

+.+.+

The rest of his father's words were drowned out by a sudden clatter of wood on wood. Eddard Stark dissolved, like mist in a morning sun. Now two children danced across the godswood, hooting at one another as they dueled with broken branches. The girl was the older and taller of the two. Arya! Bran thought eagerly, as he watched her leap up onto a rock and cut at the boy. But that couldn't be right. If the girl was Arya, the boy was Bran himself, and he had never worn his hair so long. And Arya never beat me playing swords, the way that girl is beating him. She slashed the boy across his thigh, so hard that his leg went out from under him and he fell into the pool and began to splash and shout. "You be quiet, stupid," the girl said, tossing her own branch aside. "It's just water. Do you want Old Nan to hear and run tell Father?" She knelt and pulled her brother from the pool, but before she got him out again, the two of them were gone.

This can only be Lyanna and Benjen. We'll place this around 275 AC.

"You be quiet, stupid,"

Good thing he never expands on child Lyanna. Guaranteed I'd find her as annoying as Arya. Lol

+.+.+

After that the glimpses came faster and faster, till Bran was feeling lost and dizzy. He saw no more of his father, nor the girl who looked like Arya, but a woman heavy with child emerged naked and dripping from the black pool, knelt before the tree, and begged the old gods for a son who would avenge her. Then there came a brown-haired girl slender as a spear who stood on the tips of her toes to kiss the lips of a young knight as tall as Hodor. A dark-eyed youth, pale and fierce, sliced three branches off the weirwood and shaped them into arrows. The tree itself was shrinking, growing smaller with each vision, whilst the lesser trees dwindled into saplings and vanished, only to be replaced by other trees that would dwindle and vanish in their turn. And now the lords Bran glimpsed were tall and hard, stern men in fur and chain mail. Some wore faces he remembered from the statues in the crypts, but they were gone before he could put a name to them.

Then, as he watched, a bearded man forced a captive down onto his knees before the heart tree. A white-haired woman stepped toward them through a drift of dark red leaves, a bronze sickle in her hand.

Excellent, I shine when it comes to ASoIaF history.

Sorry guys, I'm going to have to go with general consensus here. I have nothing else to offer.

He saw no more of his father, nor the girl who looked like Arya, but a woman heavy with child emerged naked and dripping from the black pool, knelt before the tree, and begged the old gods for a son who would avenge her.

Based on the timeline, best theory I've seen is it's one of the she-wolves of Winterfell.

The She-Wolves of Winterfell is the working title given to the as-yet unpublished fourth Tales of Dunk and Egg novella, once intended to be published in an anthology named Dangerous Women but now postponed. - Wiki of Ice and Fire

Then there came a brown-haired girl slender as a spear who stood on the tips of her toes to kiss the lips of a young knight as tall as Hodor.

The fourth installment of the Dunk and Egg stories takes place at Winterfell.

Is this Ser Duncan and Old Nan? Maybe. Is Ser Duncan Hodor's great-grandfather? Perhaps.

Ser Duncan was born in 191/192 AC. The Mystery Knight takes place in 212. If he's a young knight in this vision, this must happen a little bit after the events that take place in The Mystery Knight, yes?

Would that not make Old Nan older than Aemon?

A dark-eyed youth, pale and fierce, sliced three branches off the weirwood and shaped them into arrows.

Brandon Snow. :) <3

Torrhen's scouts had seen the ruins of Harrenhal, where slow, red fires still burned beneath the rubble. The King in the North had heard many accounts of the Field of Fire as well. He knew that the same fate might await him if he tried to force a crossing of the river. Some of his lords bannermen urged him to attack all the same, insisting that Northern valor would carry the day. Others urged him to fall back to Moat Cailin and make his stand there on Northern soil. The king's bastard brother Brandon Snow offered to cross the Trident alone under cover of darkness, to slay the dragons whilst they slept.

King Torrhen did send Brandon Snow across the Trident. But he crossed with three maesters by his side, not to kill but to treat. All through the night messages went back and forth. The next morning, Torrhen Stark himself crossed the Trident. There upon the south bank of the Trident, he knelt, laid the ancient crown of the Kings of Winter at Aegon's feet, and swore to be his man. He rose as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, a king no more. From that day to this day, Torrhen Stark is remembered as the King Who Knelt...but no Northman left his burned bones beside the Trident, and the swords Aegon collected from Lord Stark and his vassals were not twisted or melted or bent. - The World of Ice and Fire

Goodness, all of this feels so relevant.

The tree itself was shrinking, growing smaller with each vision, whilst the lesser trees dwindled into saplings and vanished, only to be replaced by other trees that would dwindle and vanish in their turn.

Back and back we go.

And now the lords Bran glimpsed were tall and hard, stern men in fur and chain mail. Some wore faces he remembered from the statues in the crypts, but they were gone before he could put a name to them.

Kings of Winter. We're well before Aegon's Conquest now.

Then, as he watched, a bearded man forced a captive down onto his knees before the heart tree. A white-haired woman stepped toward them through a drift of dark red leaves, a bronze sickle in her hand.

A bronze sickle. First Men.

The First Men—who had brought with them strange gods, horses, cattle, and weapons of bronze—were also larger and stronger than the children, and so they were a significant threat. - The World of Ice and Fire

+.+.+

"No," said Bran, "no, don't," but they could not hear him, no more than his father had. The woman grabbed the captive by the hair, hooked the sickle round his throat, and slashed. And through the mist of centuries the broken boy could only watch as the man's feet drummed against the earth … but as his life flowed out of him in a red tide, Brandon Stark could taste the blood.

Spit it out!

This is the final (earliest) vision. The tree got its eyes after the blood sacrifice.

Final thoughts:

Goodbye Bran.

Another challenging chapter behind us. Fun! What's next, more Aegon and Illyrio discourse? Maybe Moqorro can talk nonsense to Victarion for 20 pages? When can I dive into a ghost in Winterfell? What's that Harpy up to? Betrayals, betrayals, betrayals! HOW ABOUT A LOCUST MYSTERY? LET'S BRING BACK MELISANDRE, QUAITHE, AND SEPTA LEMORE - I DIDN'T SPEND ENOUGH TIME ON THEM. WHO WROTE THAT PINK LETTER? IS IT GRAND NORTHERN CONSPIRACY TIME? BRING ME PATCHFACE PLEASE. REALLY LOVING THIS WHOLE EXPERIENCE. ADWD IS THE BEST. 10/10.

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[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

Aeron Greyjoy is my third/fourth favorite POV and one of my favorite characters too, but mostly because he is so ridiculous.

His nephew (who is six years younger at least!) comes back home and tries to make small talk and is like “Hey uncle, remember all those times you got really wasted and started dancing on tables? Those were fun times!” and his literal answer is

"Young I was, and vain, but the sea washed my follies and my vanities away. That man drowned, nephew. His lungs filled with seawater, and the fish ate the scales off his eyes. When I rose again, I saw clearly."

He refers to Falia Flowers, his brothers girlfriend, as “child”. She’s 18. Aeron is grad-student age.

He keeps talking about how his nephew is a vain and shallow idiot who is full of himself, but then we have Aeron being a hypocrite considering himself a prophet. How full of yourself can you be to see yourself as the literal messenger from God????

He is the type of person whom I imagine to fake a very deep voice when talking, but then one day you’ll meet him unprepared and he just a sounds like a call-center associate.

If he were to be played by anyone ever I want it to be Bo Burnham simply because of the energy he would bring to the role.

He is the person who drinks coffee so strong it will give him stomach ulcers, not even because he likes it, but because it is the “adult” thing to do.

This guy is 27-31 and used to take part in pissing contests but then he had a near death experience and since then he goes around town pretending to be some village-elder.

Manifesting for him and Jojen to interact. A gen z and a millennial seriously pretending to be boomers.