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atopvisenyashill · 1 month

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there’s a few potential sansa romantic endgames that i think have some textual basis and i think all of them come with a lot of issues wrt sansa being able to publically claim these relationships which is why i think sansa will say her children are “fathered by a wolf” because regardless of Who she’s with or even the legality of it, she’s going to be actively concealing their identity AND YET she needs to have children.

i think especially that even though arya’s love life is guaranteed to be less complicated, sansa will feel obligated to take this “burden” of ensuring their line onto herself; she wants arya to have the freedom to go where she pleases, be with who she pleases, and follow her passions and that is not easy to do if everyone is expecting you to come home and start popping out kids. I consider them a sort of reflection of ned and lyanna in this way in that sansa, second born and not meant to rule, uses her newfound power to let the wild, youngest girl (but not youngest child) in the family follow her passions wherever they may take her.

this is all kind of weird with the nixed time jump but considering that george has talked about writing stories from arya’s pov about her adventures, I think it’s going to be fairly important in story regardless of their ages that arya will attempt to offer to stay home and marry and have children as a way of helping to protect sansa’s very shaky claim on winterfell but that sansa encourages arya to do whatever she wants. to travel, to help shepherd the boatloads of refugees from the various wars to wherever they want to call home, to settle displaced northerners in other parts of westeros as well, to get involved in the lives of the people arya is helping and agree to help them liberate their own homes by using her skills (crucial here that arya is A leader but not the SOLE leader), or to go out into the woods and be a secret not-quite-an-outlaw (bc sansa isn’t outlawing anything that could hurt arya’s lil crusades, probably is helping bankroll arya) to bring justice to the smallfolk, like whatever it is arya wants to do with her life, the point is that she offers to give it up and sansa refuses to take the offer.

and then we have the idea that her kids are fathered by a wolf. not elizabeth-ing herself here exactly because she’s having children but never publicly acknowledging a father or a husband or even a lover.

i think the candidates most likely are jon snow and theon, with both brienne and podrick as like “i’m not saying he’s gonna do it but i am saying they make a lot of sense narratively” and aegon vi as a huge long shot but still undeniable contender. if briensa does go canon everyone owes me five bucks each tho. i think the options other people float are not just wildly unserious they also clearly don’t think sansa will be The Ruling Lady Of Winterfell, but some much more minor or less emotionally resonant title and i just do not vibe with that shit at all. harry the heir, sandor, sweetrobin, tyrion, littlefucker, like never mind sansa never once showing any real interest in these guys and NONE of these dudes being satisfied by the idea of being her secret husband, if sansa says to arya “yeah i’m marrying tyrion” arya is going “blink twice if you’re being held hostage and you need me to kill him” but it’s too late because jon snow is already unsheathing longclaw and bran is attacking with every raven in winterfell. it’s not fucking happening and imo it’s unserious to pretend like it could happen in canon. (and if it DOES happen in canon you will find me rocking up to george’s house in jersey and demanding to know why he’s so weird about teenage girls). i think margaery is a huge long shot here (and not just bc it would make them both canonically on screen gay) because i don’t think she’s gonna live to the ending, and jeyne poole is too traumatized at this point in time for me to feel confident in putting her in the same category as brienne and pod.

(theon’s trauma is WHY i think he’s still a contender - post reek theon is going to struggle a lot with figuring out where he’s supposed to be, who he’s supposed to be, and who he can trust as he puts himself back together, and that lends itself nicely to the idea of a secret husband/lover imo. once again, we are talking extreme trauma bonding here - that’s just the only way i see sansa’s romances going).

if you’re asking “who do you think arya is winding up with” it’s gendry. i don’t doubt that there were some plans for edric dayne, arya, and gendry but i think gendry was always going to be her great love here, that she’s always going to turn down the idea of marriage to him but gendry doesn’t care so long as they are still together. there’s a neon blinking sign over gendry’s head that says “endgame material” and i think it’s unserious to pretend it’s not there too!!

#again my conspiracy here is that he can’t do all the rhaegar/lyanna/robert/ned/ashara/cat paralleling he would like and it’s thrown him off #that’s my rant of the day aksjdj #getting on my soap box #theonsa #jonsa #briensa #jeynsa #what’s the pod sansa name i always forget #the sun and moon in endless chase

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gendrie · 8 months

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Arya drew back from him. "He killed the slave?" That did not sound right. "He should have killed the masters!" (Arya, AFFC)

we don't talk about this moment within the context of arya's own experiences enough because arya has been a slave. she was taken prisoner in the riverlands, marched to harrenhal where, under the threat of violence, she was forced to perform manual labor. thats slavery.

She spent the rest of that day scrubbing steps inside the Wailing Tower. By evenfall her hands were raw and bleeding and her arms so sore they trembled when she lugged the pail back to the cellar. Too tired even for food, Arya begged Weese's pardons and crawled into her straw to sleep. (Arya, ACOK)

every day arya had to perform numerous tasks: cleaning, fetching, delivering, serving, ect. she worked until her hands bled. she endured physical and mental abuse from those she served. she saw countless acts of violence committed against her fellow prisoners. arya rebelled against her own master when she gave weese's name to jaqen h'ghar.

When Weese found that she hadn't asked about the clothes, he yanked down her breeches and caned her until blood ran down her thighs, but Arya closed her eyes and thought of all the sayings Syrio had taught her, so she scarcely felt it. (Arya, ACOK)

slavery is "outlawed" in westeros so arya is never referred to as a slave in the text, but that is what she was. she received no wages for her (child) labor. she was not allowed to leave. those in charge beat her and could have killed her without any repercussion. it was slavery and nobody stopped it. arya had to kill to regain her freedom.

"So Gregor took Harrenhal?" Sandor said. "Didn't require much taking," said Polliver. "The sellswords fled as soon as they knew we were coming, all but a few. One of the cooks opened a postern gate for us, to get back at Hoat for cutting off his foot." He chuckled. "We kept him to cook for us, a couple wenches to warm our beds, and put all the rest to the sword." "All the rest?" Arya blurted out.(Arya, ASOS)

if she had not done so arya and her friends wouldve been killed themselves when the mountain retook harrenhal. its as simple as that. you don't escape slavery by asking nicely.

and that is what makes this such a good quote to apply to a potential arya and dany dynamic.

"Unsullied!" Dany galloped before them, her silver-gold braid flying behind her, her bell chiming with every stride. "Slay the Good Masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who wears a tokar or holds a whip, but harm no child under twelve, and strike the chains off every slave you see." She raised the harpy's fingers in the air . . . and then she flung the scourge aside. "Freedom!" she sang out. "Dracarys! Dracarys!" (Dany, ASOS)

dany's fight against slavery isn't just something for arya to, potentially, admire in the abstract. arya was one of those slaves once. and just like dany hasn't forgotten what it felt like to be afraid neither has arya.

#asoiaf nonsense #if they meet in twow i will die <3

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laurellerual · 4 months

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Arya and Sansa storyswap: an exercise in imagination

Premise: I tried to speculate what might happen if Sansa manages to escape King's Landing and Arya gets stuck in the capital. I collected my thoughts on this scenario trying to make logical, credible choices that respected the characterization of the characters and the timeline of the books (the wiki was very usefull for this). I discarded all the scenarios that end in "…and then she dies horribly" because they're boring. I write with assumption that they would still remain POV characters and therefore mantain a minimum of plot armor. Like everyone, I have my biases so it's not perfect, but I tried to put myself in the most neutral mindset possible. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts. Part 1, Part 2

Part 3/3: Reunion

A Storm of Swords

Sandor and his “squire" are captured and bringed to Stoney Sept in the Riverlands. The Brotherhood without Banners takes them to Hollow Hill. Clegane is put on trial for various atrocities committed by Lannister soldiers, but he survives and is freed.

Arya is recognized by Harwin and Sansa. The two sisters reunite and remain under the "protection" of the outlaws. Because of this, the story takes a very different turn from here on.

For example, I don't think Arya would try to escape the Brotherhood so soon. As a result I don't think the Hound would be unable to kidnap the Stark girls again. However, the Hound could also decide to stay with the Brotherhood. He could plan to go to the Twins, introduce himself to Robb as Arya's savior, and ask him for a job.

So the Brotherhood proceeds as planned, they now have another valuable hostage and intend to take both girls to Lord Edmure's wedding and ransom them to their family. A group of men (like Lem, Harwin, Tom, etc) accompanies the sisters to Harroway to cross the Trident, but their journey is delayed because they find it flooded (like in Arya IX).

They reach the Twins just in time for the Red Wedding, and the outlaws manage to drag the Stark sisters away and save them. Arya and Sansa go through a complicated period of mourning but the fact of being together helps them. The two want to hold onto hope that perhaps their mother might have survived.

One night Arya has her first wolf dream in a long time: she sees Cat's body and drags it out of the river. In the morning Sansa suggests asking the men to go back and look for the woman, but Arya tells her that she's dead. As per canon Lord Beric, Thoros and the others come across the corpse and Dondarrion dies to resurrect her.

Lem's group continues their journey, this time they intend to take the girls to Lysa Arryn, but they discover that the mountain clans are bolder than ever and decide not to take the risk and return to the Riverlands.

The Stark sisters are getting impatient, Arya suggests that the two could run away and try to get to Winterfell alone. Sansa has to inform her sister that Winterfell was conquered by Theon months ago. She is devastated and abandons all plans. Lem's group returns to the Hollow Hill to discuss a new plan with Beric or perhaps to take more men as escorts before returning to the Vale.

Waiting for them in the hill, there isn't the lightning lord but Lady Stoneheart! Mother and daughters reunite.

A Feast for Crows

That's it. Final cliffhanger, sorry.

#arya stark #sansa stark #asoiaf #sort off #asoiaf fanfiction

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mybworlds · 3 months

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Chapter 9: Kissed by fire

Pairing: The Hound x Sansa Stark

Summary: Sansa and Sandor meet the brotherhood without banners and Sansa reunites with her sister Arya.

Chapter Warnings: language, violence

Masterlist

Before to start... thank you to follow me, if you want to be tagged in the next chapters, please let me know! if you want to ask me smt, you can write down here or you can inbox me. Please remember English is not my first language. And in this chapter you can read many abstracts of the chapter thirty four of "A Storm of Swords" book; I put them in italics.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

Her eyes had grown accustomed to blackness. When a man pulled the hood off her head, the ruddy glare inside the hollow hill made Sansa blink.

A huge firepit had been dug in the center of the earthen floor, and its flames rose swirling and crackling toward the smoke-stained ceiling. People were emerging from between those roots as she watched; edging out from the shadows for a look at the captives, stepping from the mouths of pitch-black tunnels on all sides. In one place on the far side of the fire, the roots formed a kind of stairway up to a hollow in the earth where a man sat almost lost in the tangle of weirwood.

Big as the fire was, the cave was bigger; it was hard to tell where it began and where it ended. Sansa saw men and women and little children, all of them watching her warily.

"Who are you?" Sansa asked frightened as she looked around.

"Sansa?" a voice made her turn to the left, Sansa could not believe her eyes and ears, it was her sister Arya, she was alive. Sansa stood up and went to meet her sister hugging her, Arya did not return the hug, she remained rigidly composed in her position.

Sansa dissolved the embrace "I thought-I thought you were dead!"

"But here I am!" she replied coldly, Sansa looked at all those men, women and children, who were they?

"What is this place?" a strong-looking, dark-haired young man asked sitting next to Arya.

"A place where neither wolves nor lions can disturb us." Thoros of Myr replied.

Sansa and Arya shivered even as one hid it from the other.

Sansa looked around for the Hound and saw him standing by the fire with a hood over his head and his hands bound.

“How did you take him?” the priest asked.

“The dogs caught the scent. He was sleeping off a drunk under a willow tree, if you believe it.”

“Betrayed by his own kind.” Thoros turned to the prisoner and yanked his hood off. “Welcome to our humble hall, dog. It is not so grand as Robert’s throne room, but the company is better.”

The shifting flames painted Sandor Clegane’s burned face with orange shadows, so he looked even more terrible than he did in daylight. When he pulled at the rope that bound his wrists, flakes of dry blood fell off.

The Hound’s mouth twitched. “I know you,” he said to Thoros.

“You did. In mêlées, you’d curse my flaming sword, though thrice I overthrew you with it.”

“We are brothers here,” Thoros of Myr declared. “Holy brothers, sworn to the realm, to our god, and to each other.”

“The brotherhood without banners.” someone shouted “The knights of the hollow hill.”

“Knights?” Clegane made the word a sneer. “Dondarrion’s a knight, but the rest of you are the sorriest lot of outlaws and broken men I’ve ever seen. I shit better men than you.”

“Any knight can make a knight,” said the scarecrow that was Beric Dondarrion, “and every man you see before you has felt a sword upon his shoulder. We are the forgotten fellowship.”

“Send me on my way and I’ll forget you too,” Clegane rasped. “But if you mean to murder me, then bloody well get on with it. You took my sword, my horse, and my gold, so take my life and be done with it . . . but spare me this pious bleating.”

“You will die soon enough, dog,” promised Thoros, “but it shan’t be murder, only justice.”

Sansa's eyes widened in terror at the idea that Sandor - the Hound - could be killed.

“Aye,” said the Mad Huntsman, “and a kinder fate than you deserve for all your kind have done. Lions, you call yourselves. At Sherrer and the Mummer’s Ford, girls of six and seven years were raped, and babes still on the breast were cut in two while their mothers watched. No lion ever killed so cruel.”

“I was not at Sherrer, nor the Mummer’s Ford,” the Hound told him. “Lay your dead children at some other door.”

Thoros answered him. “Do you deny that House Clegane was built upon dead children? I saw them lay Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys before the Iron Throne. By rights your arms should bear two bloody infants in place of those ugly dogs.”

The Hound’s mouth twitched. “Do you take me for my brother? Is being born Clegane a crime?”

“Murder is a crime.”

“Who did I murder?”

An endless string of names resounded along the cave walls, and Sansa looked worriedly at the Hound.

“Enough.” The Hound’s face was tight with anger. “You’re making noise. These names mean nothing. Who were they?”

“People,” said Lord Beric. “People great and small, young and old. Good people and bad people, who died on the points of Lannister spears or saw their bellies opened by Lannister swords.”

“It wasn’t my sword in their bellies. Any man who says it was is a bloody liar.”

“You serve the Lannisters of Casterly Rock,” said Thoros.

“Once. Me and thousands more. Is each of us guilty of the crimes of the others?” Clegane spat. “Might be you are knights after all. You lie like knights, maybe you murder like knights.”

Arya screamed “You are a murderer! You killed Mycah, don’t say you never did. You murdered him!”

The Hound stared at her with no flicker of recognition. “And who was this Mycah, boy?”

“I’m not a boy! But Mycah was. He was a butcher’s boy and you killed him. Jory said you cut him near in half, and he never even had a sword.”

“Who’s this now?” someone asked.

The Hound answered. “Seven hells. The little sister---" Sandor's eyes sought Sansa's, who immediately returned the gaze.

“The girl has named you a murderer. Do you deny killing this butcher’s boy, Mycah?”

The big man shrugged. “I was Joffrey’s sworn shield. The butcher’s boy attacked a prince of the blood.”

“That’s a lie! It was me. I hit Joffrey and threw Lion’s Paw in the river. Mycah just ran away, like I told him.”

“Did you see the boy attack Prince Joffrey?” Lord Beric Dondarrion asked the Hound.

“I heard it from the royal lips. It’s not my place to question princes.” Clegane jerked his hands toward Arya. “This one’s own sister told the same tale when she stood before your precious Robert.”

“Sansa’s just a liar,” Arya said, furious at her sister all over again. “It wasn’t like she said. It wasn’t.” the Stark shouted, forgetting that her sister Sansa was in the cave with them.

Thoros drew Lord Beric aside. The two men stood talking in low whispers, Dondarrion turned back to the Hound. “You stand accused of murder, but no one here knows the truth or falsehood of the charge, so it is not for us to judge you. Only the Lord of Light may do that now. I sentence you to trial by battle.”

The Hound frowned suspiciously, as if he did not trust his ears. “Are you a fool or a madman?”

“Neither. I am a just lord. Prove your innocence with a blade, and you shall be free to go.”

Sansa breathed a sigh of relief, the Hound was virtually unbeatable with the sword, everyone knew it, including her sister Arya who was furious.

“So who will it be?”

“It’s me you’ll face,” said Lord Beric Dondarrion.

Thoros brought the Hound his swordbelt.

The Hound ripped the sword free and threw away the scabbard.

The Hound made to step toward his foe, Thoros of Myr stopped him. “First we pray.” He turned toward the fire and lifted his arms. “Lord of Light, look down upon us.”

All around the cave, the brotherhood without banners lifted their own voices in response. “Lord of Light, defend us.”

“Lord of Light, protect us in the darkness.”

“Lord of Light, shine your face upon us.”

“Light your flame among us, R’hllor,” said the red priest. “Show us the truth or falseness of this man.

Strike him down if he is guilty, and give strength to his sword if he is true. Lord of Light, give us wisdom.”

“For the night is dark,” the others chanted, “and full of terrors.”

And then the sword took fire.

The Hound retreated half a step totally shocked at the sight of his flaming sword, Sansa for her part was totally astonished.

The Hound charged him, he moved fast enough.

The flaming sword leapt up to meet the cold one, long streamers of fire trailing in its wake like the ribbons the Hound had spoken of. Steel rang on steel. No sooner was his first slash blocked than

Clegane made another, but this time Lord Beric’s shield got in the way, and wood chips flew from the force of the blow. Hard and fast the cuts came, from low and high, from right and left, and each one Dondarrion blocked. Each move Lord Beric made fanned them and made them burn the brighter, until it seemed as though the lightning lord stood within a cage of fire.

Now it was Lord Beric attacking, filling the air with ropes of fire, driving the bigger man back on his heels. Clegane caught one blow high on his shield, and a painted dog lost a head. He countercut, and Dondarrion interposed his own shield and launched a fiery backslash. The outlaw brotherhood shouted on their leader. “He’s yours!” Sansa heard, and “At him! At him! At him!” The Hound parried a cut at his head, grimacing as the heat of the flames beat against his face. He grunted and cursed and reeled away.

Lord Beric gave him no respite. Hard on the big man’s heels he followed, his arm never still. The swords clashed and sprang apart and clashed again, splinters flew from the lightning shield while swirling flames kissed the dogs once, and twice, and thrice. The Hound moved to his right, but Dondarrion blocked him with a quick sidestep and drove him back the other way . . . toward the sullen red blaze of the firepit.

Three steps up and two back, a move to the left that Lord Beric blocked, two more forward and one back, clang and clang, and the big oaken shields took blow after blow after blow. Lord Beric’s flaming sword whirled and slashed. In one wild flurry, the lightning lord took back all the ground the Hound had gained, sending Clegane staggering to the very edge of the firepit once more. The Hound screamed as he felt the fire licking against the back of his thighs. He charged, swinging the heavy sword harder and harder, trying to smash the smaller man down with brute force, to break blade or shield or arm. But the flames of Dondarrion’s parries snapped at his eyes, and when the Hound jerked away from them, his foot went out from under him and he staggered to one knee.

Sansa cried out in terror.

At once Lord Beric closed, his downcut screaming through the air trailing pennons of fire. Panting from exertion, Clegane jerked his shield up over his head just in time, and the cave rang with the loudcrack of splintering oak.

Sandor Clegane had fought his way back to his feet with a reckless counterattack. Not until Lord Beric retreated a pace did the Hound seem to realize that the fire that roared so near his face was his own shield, burning. With a shout of revulsion, he hacked down savagely on the broken oak, completing its destruction. The shield shattered, one piece of it spinning away, still afire, while the other clung stubbornly to his forearm. His efforts to free himself only fanned the flames. His sleeve caught, and now his whole left arm was ablaze. “Finish him!” someone shouted “Guilty!” Arya shouted with the rest. “Guilty, guilty, kill him, guilty!”

Smooth as summer silk, Lord Beric slid close to make an end of the man before him. The Hound gave a rasping scream, raised his sword in both hands and brought it crashing down with all his strength.

The Hound’s cold steel plowed into Lord Beric’s flesh where his shoulder joined his neck and clove him clean down to the breastbone. Sandor Clegane jerked backward, still burning. He ripped the remnants of his shield off and flung them away with a curse, then rolled in the dirt to smother the fire running along his arm.

Lord Beric’s knees folded slowly, as if for prayer. The Hound’s sword was still in him as he toppled face forward.

“Please,” Sandor Clegane rasped, cradling his arm. “I’m burned. Help me. Someone. Help me.” He was crying. “Please.”

Sansa jumped up and made to grab the canteen of one of the men who were watching the fight, but Sansa was stopped by her own sister Arya "What the hell is wrong with you?" she scolded her "You know who he is, don't you? Then why are you going to him?"

"He saved my life, I owe him that," replied Sansa who made to get past her sister, but to no avail.

"He's a murderer, he doesn't deserve your sympathy," she shouted angrily.

“You go to hell, Hound,” she screamed at Sandor Clegane in helpless empty-handed rage. “You just go to hell!”

“He has,” said a voice scarce stronger than a whisper.

When Arya turned, Lord Beric Dondarrion was standing behind her, his bloody hand clutching Thoros by the shoulder.

With Arya's disgust, the Hound was freed: the outlaws had healed Sandor Clegane's burned arm, returned his sword, armor, and horse, the only thing they had taken was his gold.

Arya felt a great and very strong anger at seeing him go, while Sansa a great despair: her only, their only chance of return was fading and she was once again a prisoner along with her sister, who, however, hated her.

"You're such a fool!" railed Arya to her sister's despair.

"Stop it!" implored Sansa with shining eyes.

"Crying for that monster! A murderer! You're crazy." Sansa pulled up her nose "Stop crying, you're pathetic!" continued Arya "That one doesn't care about anything or anyone but his own filthy skin!"

"That's not true." replied Sansa between sobs "He's rough, but…he saved me, he took me with him from King's Landing, he could have abandoned me to my fate, but he didn't, how can you call someone who saves your life a monster? " then Sansa continued her tale by narrating to her sister all that she had experienced, but Arya did not flinch, in fact her features became even harsher and her lips stretched into a straight line laden with reproach toward her older sister.

"You are a fool, Sansa, as well as a liar. First you defended Joffrey and forced me to let Nymeria go, with your words you condemned Mycah to death, and now you are defending that filthy murderer. You are a disgrace to our family!" sentenced Arya with contempt.

Sansa lost control of herself and forgot her manners, she slapped her sister who vehemently attacked her by scratching and beating her, it was that guy, Gendry, who separated the two sisters, someone else looked on in curiosity at that scene.

"What's the matter with you people?" the light-eyed, dark-haired boy intervened, tearing up Arya, who had thrown herself impetuously at her sister.

"My sister is mad, that's the matter," replied Arya furiously.

Sansa breathed heavily, then curled up in a corner and began to cry.

"All she can do is cry," Arya continued, "And lie."

She hated her, she hated her sister.

"Come on, leave her alone. Calm down," Gendry said again and then dragged the little Stark away from Sansa.

Sansa brought her knees to her chest and wept silently.

She wanted him to come back to her, to find a way to keep his promise, but days passed, the Sun rose and set, and he was gone.

Maybe she really was as stupid as her sister said!

"I brought you something to eat," Gendry told her when again the moon was high in the sky.

Sansa's eyes were swollen, hurting, and she was sure she looked decidedly grotesque, but by now the elder Stark did not even pay much attention to her appearance.

"Thank you." said Sansa.

She reached for the small wooden plate from which she picked up a cooked potato and chunks of meat with her hands; she had not eaten these foods for so long that they seemed a real treat to her palate.

"Don't mind Arya." he told her "She's angry, she's seen … so many bad things she'll never forget."

Sansa nodded "I know, I know how she feels. But she can't stand me. She didn't before… she won't now that I've taken the side of the Hound she despises with all her might. Arya and I will never love each other, even trying. We are so young and yet we have so much resentment already toward each other."

Gendry laid a hand on hers gently taking on a sorry expression "I hope you will understand each other and be able to talk peacefully sooner or later." he said to her before walking away from her and leaving her alone.

Sansa remained alone for the next few days, she struggled to sleep and eat, but by now she was getting used to even not eating or sleeping anymore, on the sixth day-when she got up again-every muscle ached, she had to maintain herself. She found in a corner not far from her Arya staring into the fire, she had an angry expression, when she approached her, her little sister looked venomously into her face "Gendry is gone too! Your prayers have been answered. I am alone too. The difference between us is I have lost a friend, you -- a lousy murderer!"

"Where did he go?" asked Sansa.

"The Brotherhood has… sold him." replied Arya, angrily throwing a handful of dust into the fire.

"Why?"

Arya did not answer, "We cannot trust them. They might do the same to us in exchange for a few gold coins! We have to…" Arya looked around before adding "…flee." Sansa looked at her for a long time, "Are you capable of doing that? Or are you going to cry and ask for help?" bounced Arya at her.

Sansa just looked at her sister, there was nothing she could do she had not forgiven her for losing her direwolf, not forgiven her for supporting Joffrey, not forgiven her for being there and doing nothing to prevent her father's death, not forgiven her for supporting the Hound.

Night came and along with it many men went to sleep, but neither Sansa nor Arya slept. They were awake and ready to flee. Arya had a strange light in her eyes, thought Sansa who instead merely stared at the exit in the hope of seeing Sandor Clegane enter it, take the two Starks and flee, but that did not happen. The Hound must have been many leagues away by now!

"Lannister guards a hundred feet from us!" someone shouted, that was the signal the two sisters had been waiting for, the two in the general confusion managed to easily get past the two knights placed to guard the cave. Sansa and Arya fled at breakneck speed into the dark woods, Sansa trudged on, but did not stop. She was suddenly grabbed as she ran, the one who tugged her was strong and had armor that stood out clearly in the moonlight, she kicked and flailed, but when she heard his voice she stopped, "By the Seventh Hells, stop!" Sansa turned around; it was the Hound.

She wanted to hug him, smile at him, but he asked her abruptly, "Where is that little monster?"

"She kept running."

She didn't even stop to check to see where I was….

The Hound left her there saying, "Hide in this bush and don't make a sound, got it?" then ran and ran in the hope of not making too much noise.

The younger Stark was running, she was fast.

Although she was fast, Sandor was more. He caught her from behind by encircling her by the arm and then said in her ear, "Kick all you want, little wolf, it won't do you any good."

Sandor would have liked the little one to be as docile as Sansa, but if Sansa was as gentle as a lamb, Arya was uncontrollable, a veritable wild wolf, he, for their sake, was forced to strike her, and so, having loaded her onto his shoulders and retrieved Sansa, the three of them walked away from the Whispering Wood.

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bookhousestark · 2 years

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ARYA STARK APPRECIATION MONTH 2022 ↳ Day 23: Men in Arya’s life → Men searching for Arya throughout the series

She would have been better alone. If she had been alone, the outlaws would never have caught her, and she'd be with Robb and her mother by now. They were never my pack. If they had been, they wouldn't leave me. She splashed through a puddle of muddy water. Someone was shouting her name, Harwin probably, or Gendry, but the thunder drowned them out as it rolled across the hills, half a heartbeat behind the lightning. The lightning lord, she thought angrily. Maybe he couldn't die, but he could lie.

***

It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl.

***

We are five thousand strong as I write, our numbers swelling every day. And word has come to us that Roose Bolton moves toward Winterfell with all his power, there to wed his bastard to your half sister. He must not be allowed to restore the castle to its former strength. We march against him. Arnolf Karstark and Mors Umber will join us. I will save your sister if I can, and find a better match for her than Ramsay Snow. You and your brothers must hold the Wall until I can return.

***

The outlaw gave him an encouraging smile. "Well, as it happens, we're looking for a dog that ran away." "A dog?" Merrett was lost. "What kind of dog?" "He answers to the name Sandor Clegane. Thoros says he was making for the Twins. We found the ferrymen who took him across the Trident, and the poor sod he robbed on the kingsroad. Did you see him at the wedding, perchance?" "He would have had a child with him," said the singer. "A skinny girl, about ten. Or perhaps a boy the same age."

***

You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird's nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … "I think we had best change the plan," Jon Snow said.

***

"I mean to have Arya as well. I have men searching."

#aryastarkmonth2022 #canonarya #asoiaf #asoiafedit #arya stark #arya stark month day 23 #gifs

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ewinofthelake · 1 year

Text

Arya was raised on a small farm in the Mountains of Winter. She had never owned fancy dresses, never pampered her long dark hair, but she was all the same the most beautiful girl in the North. She just didn't know it.

Her favourite pastimes were running in the woods with her direwolf Nymeria and tormenting the farm boy that worked for her family. His name was Jaqen, but she never called him that. To her, it was as if he had no name.

Nothing gave Arya as much pleasure as ordering Jaqen around.

"Farm boy, brush my direwolf's coat, I want to see it shining by morning," she told him one day, her hand petting Nymeria.

He was always so quiet, so courteous. "A man must serve." And maybe as handsome as she was beautiful.

A man must serve was all he ever said to her. He just looked at her. He always looked at her, always smiling. He saw her.

"Farm boy, fill these with water," she told him on the morrow, two buckets dropped near him.

He was outside, chopping firewood with an axe. "A man must serve." And a man obeyed.

She never looked at him. She just turned and left. But that day, her eyes stayed on him. That day, she chewed her lip to keep a please from escaping. That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying a man must serve what he meant was I love you.

"Farm boy, fetch me that kettle," she told him at the turn of the moon, the kettle so close she could reach it herself from where she was sitting.

He was in the kitchen doorway, a pair of heavy padded mitts soon in his hands. "A man must serve." And kneeling beside her, Arya drunk on his smile, they finally gazed into each other's eyes.

Even more amazing was that day. The day she realised she wanted to kiss that disarming smile. The day she realised she truly loved him back.

How their love survived the adventures with the three outlaws Tyrion the witty dwarf, 'Big Man' Sandor Clegane and Syrio Forel the fencing master, with the evil prince Bolton and his six-fingered goon Meryn Trant, and with the kindly magician in his robe of black and white, well... That is a story for another day.

Arya Stark Valentine’s Day Challenge 2023, prompts Secret Admirer/Alternate Fandom/Fairytale: Jaqen H'ghar/Arya Stark, The Princess Bride AU

#aryasvalentine #arya x jaqen #arya stark #jaqen h'ghar #asoiaf #got #jaqen x arya #jaqarya #my stuff #a man and a girl and a drabble #the princess bride #arya events #ifd2023 #if your love were a grain of sand mine would be a universe of beaches

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aegor-bamfsteel · 2 years

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So Rhaegar Frey, a southern lord, whose son named Jonos Frey and had other son named Robert was potential match for Wynfred Manderly a northern daughter. Rhaegar's first wife was dead from illness. He insulted North king Robb Stark and wanted Manderlys to bend the knee to Iron Throne. His family was responsible for killing killing Starks and Wendel. Though he died before he married Wynafrd. I do think grrm is mocking Rhaegar Targ through Rhaegar Frey and fans don't even recognize it.

Despite GRRM saying he has good fans (as per this response comparing us favorably to Rowling’s after he lost the 2001 Hugo Award), he does seem to like trolling us, doesn’t he? There’s also Melisandre saying if she’s ever mistaken about her visions “the fault lies with the reader, not the book” like he’s poking fun at fan speculation.

GRRM does like using the Frey namesakes to play around with character fates. Sandor Clegane killed Tytos Frey, whereas his grandfather saved Tytos Lannister. There’s Sandor Frey, a squire of Donnel Waynwood, who for all we know Sansa will meet as she leaves the Vale. Half of the Beesbury-Raymund Freys have main branch Lannister names (twins Jaime and Tywin, “little Bee” Cersei), and their father Raymund personally slit Catelyn Stark’s throat. Speaking of, Cat killed Aegon “Jinglebell” Frey at the Red Wedding as “a son for a son”, which has some similarity to Aegon son of Elia’s presumed fate (killed while a mother was begging for mercy). There’s Aegon “Bloodborn” Frey son of Aenys, an outlaw, who again has parallels to Aegon VI (you could consider the alleged baby swap him born in blood, and certainly he lived as an outlaw during his youth). Then there’s Bloodborn’s brother Rhaegar, who as you said had three children (Robert, “White” Walda—maybe for her pale hair as she’s part Beesbury?, and Jonos) with a mother named Tyana (Lyanna?) who died in childbirth presumably with him, lied about the Starks’ involvement in the Red Wedding, was betrothed to a northern heiress, and presumably died and was fed to his kin, including his own father Aenys (I guess substitute for Aerys, who outlived Rhaegar before being killed himself). The details are mixed up from what we know of the Targaryens (Lyanna the mistress not the mother, Aegon the son not the older brother, Robert the cousin not the son), but considering how Wyman points out that Rhaegar was “a smirking worm who wears a dragon’s name) I’m sure this branch of the Frey tree having some Targaryen names has significance (probably that they’re doomed). In addition, it seems that Rhaegar’s kids are double cousins with Raymund‘s Lannister named kids (both have Beesbury mothers), so their fates are possibly connected (again, I wouldn’t put it past GRRM murdering some Lannister namesakes even if they’re infants).

#ask #house frey #anti targaryen #asoiaf #name significance

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istumpysk · 2 years

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AFFC: Jaime II (Chapter 16)

The funeral procession departed King's Landing through the Gate of the Gods, wider and more splendid than the Lion Gate. The choice felt wrong to Jaime. His father had been a lion, that no one could deny, but even Lord Tywin never claimed to be a god.

How is Daenerys losing against Tywin? Tywin.

+.+.+

Ser Kevan snorted. "So do we all. How fares your king?" His tone made the question a reproach.

"Well enough," Jaime said defensively. "Balon Swann is with him during the mornings. A good and valiant knight."

"Once that went without saying when men spoke of those who wore the white cloak."

No man can choose his brothers, Jaime thought. Give me leave to pick my own men, and the Kingsguard will be great again. Put that baldly, though, it sounded feeble; an empty boast from a man the realm called Kingslayer. A man with shit for honor. Jaime let it go. He had not come to argue with his uncle.

I'd love to see who he'd put on the Kingsguard. Guaranteed he'd remain as one of the seven.

Is it too much to ask for Jaime to move off of Aerys, and start reflecting on other things that make him a terrible person?

+.+.+

"Will you remain at Darry after the wedding?"

"For a while, mayhaps. Sandor Clegane is raiding along the Trident, it would seem. Your sister wants his head. It may be that he has joined Dondarrion."

Jaime had heard about Saltpans. By now half the realm had heard. The raid had been exceptionally savage. Women raped and mutilated, children butchered in their mothers' arms, half the town put to the torch. "Randyll Tarly is at Maidenpool. Let him deal with the outlaws. I would sooner have you go to Riverrun."

Notice how no one in the story is having a difficult time believing it's Sandor Clegane doing this?

Hell, I'd love to know how many readers never questioned it.

+.+.+

"Addam Marbrand could deal with these outlaws just as well as you. So could Brax, Banefort, Plumm, any of these others. But none would make a good King's Hand."

"Your sister knows my terms. They have not changed. Tell her that, the next time you are in her bedchamber."

+.+.+

He had hoped against hope that Cersei had somehow misunderstood, but plainly that was wrong. He knows about the two of us. About Tommen and Myrcella. And Cersei knows he knows. Ser Kevan was a Lannister of Casterly Rock. He could not believe that she would ever do him harm, but . . . I was wrong about Tyrion, why not about Cersei? When sons were killing fathers, what was there to stop a niece from ordering an uncle slain? An inconvenient uncle, who knows too much.

Is Jaime going to think Cersei killed Kevan?

Is this about anyone else? I can think of plenty of uncles and aunts who would slay their nephews and/or nieces, but I'm drawing a blank going the other way.

+.+.+

"That's just the thing a bride wants on her wedding night," said Jaime. "A husband who knows how to do his duty."

A flush crept up Lancel's cheeks. "I pray for you, cousin. And for Her Grace the queen. May the Crone lead her to her wisdom and the Warrior defend her."

"Why would Cersei need the Warrior? She has me." Jaime turned his horse about, his white cloak snapping in the wind.

Ohhh! We love to see it! Sister and brother as the Maiden and the Warrior!

I thought that I was the Warrior and Cersei was the Maid, but all the time she was the Stranger, hiding her true face from my gaze. - Jaime IV, AFFC

❤️ The Maiden lay athwart the Warrior, her arms widespread as if to embrace him. - Davos I, ACOK ❤️

+.+.+

The Imp was lying. Cersei would sooner have Robert's corpse between her legs than a pious fool like Lancel. Tyrion, you evil bastard, you should have lied about someone more likely.

Tee-hee.

+.+.+

Garlan the Gallant had taken half the Tyrell strength back to Highgarden, and his lady mother and grandmother had gone with him. The other half had marched south with Mace Tyrell and Mathis Rowan to invest Storm's End.

As for the Lannister host, two thousand seasoned veterans remained encamped outside the city walls, awaiting the arrival of Paxter Redwyne's fleet to carry them across Blackwater Bay to Dragonstone.

Ignore me.

Half the Tyrell strength with Garlan at Highgarden.

Half the Tyrell strength with Mathis Rowan at Storm's End.

Two thousand Lannister men at Dragonstone with Paxter Redwyne.

Got it.

+.+.+

Then the Knight of Flowers mounted up and put the others all to shame.

Jousting was three-quarters horsemanship, Jaime had always believed. Ser Loras rode superbly, and handled a lance as if he'd been born holding one

I was trying to understand why I was reading about jousting for an entire page, until I came to this and remembered.

Knight of the Laughing Tree clues.

+.+.+

"Oh, look," purred Lady Merryweather, "your brave brother has returned, Your Grace."

"Most of him."

lmfao. brutal.

+.+.+

The queen was in her cups, Jaime realized. Of late, Cersei always seemed to have a flagon of wine to hand, she who had once scorned Robert Baratheon for his drinking.

Perfect, a blasted Cersei talking with Lady Merryweather. That's exactly what we want.

+.+.+

Pycelle looked desperately uncomfortable. "There has been a bird," he said. "From Stokeworth. Lady Tanda sends word that her daughter Lollys has been delivered of a strong, healthy son."

"And you will never guess what they have named the little bastard, brother."

"They wanted to name him Tywin, I recall."

"Yes, but I forbade it. I told Falyse that I would not have our father's noble name bestowed upon the ill-gotten spawn of some pig boy and a feeble-witted sow."

"Lady Stokeworth insists the child's name was not her doing," Grand Maester Pycelle put in. Perspiration dotted his wrinkled forehead. "Lollys's husband made the choice, she writes. This man Bronn, he . . . it would seem that he . . ."

"Tyrion," ventured Jaime. "He named the child Tyrion."

If I wasn't aware of all the things Tyrion has said and thought about Lollys Stokeworth, I might be able to find this amusing.

By the way, Tommen is sitting right there and hearing all this feeble-witted sow talk.

+.+.+

Jaime knew the look in his sister's eyes. He had seen it before, most recently on the night of Tommen's wedding, when she burned the Tower of the Hand. The green light of the wildfire had bathed the face of the watchers, so they looked like nothing so much as rotting corpses, a pack of gleeful ghouls, but some of the corpses were prettier than others. Even in the baleful glow, Cersei had been beautiful to look upon. She'd stood with one hand on her breast, her lips parted, her green eyes shining. She is crying, Jaime had realized, but whether it was from grief or ecstasy he could not have said.

The sight had filled him with disquiet, reminding him of Aerys Targaryen and the way a burning would arouse him.

I'm positive it's supposed to remind us of someone else.

But please, continue with these Cersei-Aerys parallels.

+.+.+

A king has no secrets from his Kingsguard. Relations between Aerys and his queen had been strained during the last years of his reign. They slept apart and did their best to avoid each other during the waking hours. But whenever Aerys gave a man to the flames, Queen Rhaella would have a visitor in the night. The day he burned his mace-and-dagger Hand, Jaime and Jon Darry had stood at guard outside her bedchamber whilst the king took his pleasure. "You're hurting me," they had heard Rhaella cry through the oaken door. "You're hurting me." In some queer way, that had been worse than Lord Chelsted's screaming. "We are sworn to protect her as well," Jaime had finally been driven to say. "We are," Darry allowed, "but not from him."

Jaime had only seen Rhaella once after that, the morning of the day she left for Dragonstone. The queen had been cloaked and hooded as she climbed inside the royal wheelhouse that would take her down Aegon's High Hill to the waiting ship, but he heard her maids whispering after she was gone. They said the queen looked as if some beast had savaged her, clawing at her thighs and chewing on her breasts. A crowned beast, Jaime knew.

I'M SO SLOW.

This is when Daenerys was conceived! I didn't know that!

It would be totally unfair and in poor taste to suggest any of this influenced her disposition, but I'm going to do it anyway.

BAD OMEN BABY.

+.+.+

By the end the Mad King had become so fearful that he would allow no blade in his presence, save for the swords his Kingsguard wore.

Why, were Usurper's Knives chasing him?

+.+.+

His beard was matted and unwashed, his hair a silver-gold tangle that reached his waist, his fingernails cracked yellow claws nine inches long. Yet still the blades tormented him, the ones he could never escape, the blades of the Iron Throne. His arms and legs were always covered with scabs and half-healed cuts.

Let him be king over charred bones and cooked meat, Jaime remembered, studying his sister's smile. Let him be the king of ashes.

Tee-hee.

+.+.+

"I am growing very fond of Lady Taena. She amuses me."

"She is one of Margaery Tyrell's companions," Jaime reminded her. "She's informing on you to the little queen."

"Of course she is." Cersei went to the sideboard to fill her cup anew. "Margaery was thrilled when I asked her leave to take Taena on as my companion. You should have heard her. 'She will be a sister to you, as she's been to me. Of course you must have her! I have my cousins and my other ladies.' Our little queen does not want me to be lonely."

"If you know she is a spy, why take her on?"

"Margaery is not half so clever as she thinks. She has no notion what a sweet serpent she has in that Myrish slut. I use Taena to feed the little queen what I want her to know. Some of it is even true." Cersei's eyes were bright with mischief. "And Taena tells me everything Maid Margaery is doing."

At what point did Cersei forget all of this?

+.+.+

She knows I can do more for her than Margaery, so she makes herself useful to me. You would be surprised at all the interesting things she's told me."

"What sorts of things?"

Cersei sat beneath the window. "Did you know that the Queen of Thorns keeps a chest of coins in her wheelhouse? Old gold from before the Conquest. Should any tradesman be so unwise as to name a price in golden coins, she pays him with hands from Highgarden, each half the weight of one of our dragons. What merchant would dare complain of being cheated by Mace Tyrell's lady mother?"

That's the information she gave Cersei? Weird, that almost makes her seem like a Varys agent.

I know, I know, I'll save the tinfoil for Bran.

+.+.+

"Roose Bolton is our Warden of the North. He will deal with Stannis."

"Lord Bolton is trapped below the Neck, cut off from the north by the ironmen at Moat Cailin."

"Not for long. Bolton's bastard son will soon remove that little obstacle. Lord Bolton will have two thousand Freys to augment his own strength, under Lord Walder's sons Hosteen and Aenys. That should be more than enough to deal with Stannis and a few thousand broken men."

Ignore me.

Two thousand Frey men in the north.

A few thousand Stannis men in the north.

Got it.

+.+.+

"You still require a Hand, however. If not our uncle, who?"

His sister laughed. "Not you. Have no fear on that count. Perhaps Taena's husband. His grandfather was Hand under Aerys."

Lady Merryweather has already managed to secure one of the most powerful positions in all of Westeros for her husband. Who is playing who here?

+.+.+

"I govern the realm."

Seven save us all, you do. His sister liked to think of herself as Aegon Lord Tywin with teats, but she was wrong. Their father had been as relentless and implacable as a glacier, where Cersei was all wildfire, especially when thwarted.

Tywin is ice, and Cersei is fire?

But. . . jonerys??

+.+.+

"A weak ruler needs a strong Hand, as Aerys needed Father. A strong ruler requires only a diligent servant to carry out his orders." She swirled her wine. "Lord Hallyne might suit. He would not be the first pyromancer to serve as the King's Hand."

Can everyone please go to the wiki, and look at the image used for Lord Hallyne? Thank you.

What's dumber, making a pyromancer your Hand or giving the job to Tyrion Lannister? Tough, right?

+.+.+

No. I killed the last one. "There is talk that you mean to make Aurane Waters the master of ships."

"Has someone been informing on me?" When he did not answer, Cersei tossed her hair back, and said, "Waters is well suited to the office. He has spent half his life on ships."

"Half his life? He cannot be more than twenty."

Sure, but consider this: he's hot.

+.+.+

"A weak ruler needs a strong Hand, as Aerys needed Father. A strong ruler requires only a diligent servant to carry out his orders."

"Half his life? He cannot be more than twenty."

"Two-and-twenty, and what of it? Father was not even one-and-twenty when Aerys Targaryen named him Hand.

I love when they put daddy on a pedestal.

+.+.+

"You are a child, Jaime. Redwyne is Tyrell's bannerman, and nephew to that hideous grandmother of his. I want none of Lord Tyrell's creatures on my council."

"Tommen's council, you mean."

"You know what I mean."

Too well. "I know that Aurane Waters is a bad idea, and Hallyne is a worse one. As for Qyburn . . . gods be good, Cersei, he rode with Vargo Hoat. The Citadel stripped him of his chain!"

"The grey sheep. Qyburn has made himself most useful to me. And he is loyal, which is more than I can say of mine own kin."

The crows will feast upon us all if you go on this way, sweet sister. "Cersei, listen to yourself. You are seeing dwarfs in every shadow and making foes of friends. Uncle Kevan is not your enemy. I am not your enemy."

I think it's a bit concerning Qyburn is being grouped with other bad decisions like Aurance Waters, and Hallyne.

+.+.+

"Get out, I said. I am sick of looking at that ugly stump of yours. Get out!" To speed him on his way, she heaved her wine cup at his head. She missed, but Jaime took the hint.

Evenfall found him sitting alone in the common room of White Sword Tower, with a cup of Dornish red and the White Book.

Thrown out by Cersei, and straight to Evenfall. This is big foreshadowing in Braime Land.

Every single day I feel spoiled.

+.+.+

"I saw you in the yard today," said Jaime. "You rode well."

"Better than well, surely." Ser Loras poured himself a cup of wine, and took a seat across the half-moon table.

"A more modest man might have answered 'My lord is too kind,' or 'I had a good mount.'"

Both Cersei and Jaime having to deal with younger (less evil) versions of themselves is a riot.

+.+.+

"This one is for us. The history of every man who has ever worn a white cloak is written here."

"I have glanced at it. The shields are pretty. I prefer books with more illuminations. Lord Renly owned a few with drawings that would turn a septon blind."

PORN.

+.+.+

"Good enough. He died, but his king lived. A lot of brave men have worn the white cloak. Most have been forgotten."

"Most deserve to be forgotten. The heroes will always be remembered. The best."

"The best and the worst." So one of us is like to live in song. "And a few who were a bit of both. Like him."

A bit of both, eh? You're running out of time, and I see little opportunity left.

+.+.+

"The best and the worst." So one of us is like to live in song. "And a few who were a bit of both. Like him." He tapped the page he had been reading.

"Who?" Ser Loras craned his head around to see. "Ten black pellets on a scarlet field. I do not know those arms."

"They belonged to Criston Cole, who served the first Viserys and the second Aegon." Jaime closed the White Book. "They called him Kingmaker."

Does pushing a child out of a tower count as kingmaking? Heh, kingslaying and kingmaking, he did a bit of both!

Anyway, Criston Cole is the Kingsguard who was rumoured to be Rhaenyra Targaryen's lover. Let's ignore the rest of the history, and pretend it was unavailable at this point.

We first learn about Criston Cole in a chapter where Arianne Martell is being intimate with a member of the Kingsguards. Now he's being brought up again to close out a Jaime chapter, and the word 'CERSEI' follows in big, bold letters.

Based on that alone, it feels like this has less to do with kingmaking, and more to do with sexual relations between Kingsguard and would-be queens. But what the hell do I know?

Final thoughts:

The more we get into the history, the more I'm in serious trouble.

Only gifs from here on out.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #affc #jaime ii

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baelontargaryen · 2 years

Text

State of Westeros in ADWD:

“Lysa Arryn’s dead,” Lord Godric said, “murdered by some singer. Lord Littlefinger rules the Vale now. Where are the pirates?” When Davos did not answer, he rapped his spoon against the table. “The Lyseni. Torrent spied their sails from Littlesister, and before him the Flints from Widow’s Watch. Orange sails, and green, and pink. Salladhor Saan. Where is he?”

— Davos I, ADWD

Most of what he heard he’d learned in Sisterton, from Lord Godric or the denizens of the Belly of the Whale. Tywin Lannister was dead, butchered by his dwarf son; his corpse had stunk so badly that no one had been able to enter the Great Sept of Baelor for days afterward; the Lady of the Eyrie had been murdered by a singer; Littlefinger ruled the Vale now, but Bronze Yohn Royce had sworn to bring him down; Balon Greyjoy had died as well, and his brothers were fighting for the Seastone Chair; Sandor Clegane had turned outlaw and was plundering and killing in the lands along the Trident; Myr and Lys and Tyrosh were embroiled in another war; a slave revolt was raging in the east.

— Davos II, ADWD

Davos thought it best to ignore her. “When Robb Stark took up arms against the bastard Joffrey-called-Baratheon, White Harbor marched with him. Lord Stark has fallen, but his war goes on.”

— Davos III, ADWD

“Oh, much and more, my lord.” Haldon gave him a thin smile. “The Lannisters make enemies easily but seem to have a harder time keeping friends. Their alliance with the Tyrells is fraying, to judge from what I read here. Queen Cersei and Queen Margaery are fighting over the little king like two bitches with a chicken bone, and both have been accused of treason and debauchery. Mace Tyrell has abandoned his siege of Storm’s End to march back to King’s Landing and save his daughter, leaving only a token force behind to keep Stannis’s men penned up inside the castle.”

Connington sat. “Tell me more.”

“In the north the Lannisters are relying on the Boltons and in the riverlands upon the Freys, both houses long renowned for treachery and cruelty. Lord Stannis Baratheon remains in open rebellion and the ironborn of the islands have raised up a king as well. No one ever seems to mention the Vale, which suggests to me that the Arryns have taken no part in any of this.”

— The Griffin Reborn, ADWD

“If I were you? I would go west instead of east. Land in Dorne and raise my banners. The Seven Kingdoms will never be more ripe for conquest than they are right now. A boy king sits the Iron Throne. The north is in chaos, the riverlands a devastation, a rebel holds Storm’s End and Dragonstone. When winter comes, the realm will starve.” [...]

“Westeros is torn and bleeding, and I do not doubt that even now my sweet sister is binding up the wounds … with salt.” [...]

— Tyrion VI, ADWD

“War will come, whether we wish it or not,” said Obara. “A boy king sits the Iron Throne. Lord Stannis holds the Wall and is gathering northmen to his cause. The two queens are squabbling over Tommen like bitches with a juicy bone. The ironmen have taken the Shields and are raiding up the Mander, deep into the heart of the Reach, which means Highgarden will be preoccupied as well. Our enemies are in disarray. The time is ripe.”

...

Dorne was an angry and divided land, and Prince Doran’s hold on it was not as firm as it might be. Many of his own lords thought him weak and would have welcomed open war with the Lannisters and the boy king on the Iron Throne.

— The Watcher, ADWD

#also in agot robert has plunged westeros into six million dollars of debt which is mostly owed to the lannisters #which he wasted on tourneys and feasts to help his manpain despite aerys leaving a generous treasury filled #asoiaf #house targaryen #house stark #house martell #house tyrell #house baratheon #house arryn #house greyjoy #house lannister #westeros

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thelustybraavosimaid · 2 years

Note

Is catelyn stark really looking for arya? I don't remember this

Yes.

The outlaw gave him an encouraging smile. "Well, as it happens, we're looking for a dog that ran away."

"A dog?" Merrett was lost. "What kind of dog?" "He answers to the name Sandor Clegane. Thoros says he was making for the Twins. We found the ferrymen who took him across the Trident, and the poor sod he robbed on the kingsroad. Did you see him at the wedding, perchance?"

"The Red Wedding?" Merrett's skull felt as if it were about to split, but he did his best to recall. There had been so much confusion, but surely someone would have mentioned Joffrey's dog sniffing round the Twins. "He wasn't in the castle. Not at the main feast...he might have been at the bastard feast, or in the camps, but...no, someone would have said..."

"He would have had a child with him," said the singer. "A skinny girl, about ten. Or perhaps a boy the same age." (Epilogue, ASoS)

Arya would have last been seen near the inn at the crossroads. Perhaps that's why Gendry is there, to identify her.

#asoiaf

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dr3adlady · 4 months

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I'm working on a new fic which I'm going to name "born to burn", and it's going to be a western. I always loved the genre, and Sandor is one of those characters who look like they have just walked out of a duel alive, so it was just a matter of time till I made such an au :))) I'm very excited about it, and the first chapter will be released soon.

#asoiaf #sansa stark #sandor clegane #western au #sansa is a teacher #sandor is an outlaw #Ned Stark is a sheriff because what else did you expect #i really really want to drop more info but i dont want to spoil the fun #since it's also a thriller and mystery story #this story is angsty on another level #i hope people cry buckets and buckets of tears over it

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seoness · 2 years

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Hey, question here! Do you think Sandor is self conscious about his appearance / scar? He seems to mostly have a tough / brooding idgaf attitude, but there are times when he brings his appearance, especially his face, into conversation when talking to other characters. He seemed hurt and pointed out how Sansa was unable to look at him on multiple occasions. When he first starts traveling with Arya he notes that she can “at least look” at his face. The most interesting imo is when he speaks to Gendry the night he tries to get his gold back from the Brotherhood. I don’t have the book on hand, but he says something along the lines of: “Why trust them and not me? Could it be my face?” He seems to bring it up with a good handful of characters, so I wonder if this still bothers him into adulthood. Side question adding onto that one haha- how would Sandor feel about someone that is very casual / comfortable around him from the start? Someone who looks him in the face, takes his snarky comments with good humor, casually rubs his shoulder or back, etc. Since Sandor notices that his appearance has an effect on people, I can’t imagine how he would react to someone that consistently approaches him without judgement.

Salutations!

The way that example with Gendry made me run to A Storm of Swords 🏃‍♀️💨

"The boy has a mouth on him, I see. Why believe them and not me? Couldn't be my face, could it?"

This is something I'll touch on in the writing guide as well, but with the Hound I think it's easy to be distracted by what he presents. The image he keeps. But here and there, like this quote, we get hints of the inner self seeping through the cracks.

He never healed from his childhood trauma. His only true stated goal is to kill his older brother. When Gregor rides for King's Landing and attends the same tourney as him, Sandor drinks far too much which results in him trauma dumping on a little girl that could just as well have been him growing up.

I wouldn't go so far as to say that all his toughness and rough edges are a front for his hurt, but the world he lives in fuels that side of him. People don't like to meet his gaze. Making them have something to fear is easier, but the fact remains that Sandor Clegane could be as harmless as a butterfly and kind as a kitten, and people would still not meet his gaze. I think he's self-conscious about his burn in the way that he is acutely aware that it's why people don't like to look at him, and the hurt has gotten stale. A part of him is used to it, bored, and with it he is annoyed. The hypocrisy of it all. An outlaw untrusting of him when they ride around expediting "justice" of a dead King?

So yes, he's self-conscious but at the same time very much used to it. Bitter.

Answer to the second question:

Fucking suspicion. If you're used to everyone treating you one shitty way and suddenly there's someone that doesn't? Nah. Something is up. He'll entertain possibilities like:

A spy that's been sent to get some sort of information or lure him to do something that will make him a head shorter.

Doing it on a dare. (Think how there was a dare amongst some Reachern nobles on who could take Brienne of Tarth's maidenhead?)

Some sick form of sarcasm.

Dim-witted.

Blind.

Drunker than a skunk.

Delerium.

Basically, anything else than "Oh, this person might actually be nice?" If the person is consistently kind and meets his gaze and has decent morals? An honest to the gods' good person? He'll tell them to get the hell out of King's Landing. It would be like accidentally landing a consulting contract with a security firm. He'll definitely be at risk of striking warmer feelings for that person, but unless they also show want for something like that, he'll try to contend with his hand and a visit or two to the brothels.

There's a reason why I made Sandor Clegane tells my OC a gazillion times to get the hell out of dodge. 😂 Basically if someone treats him like that:

Spirit is them, and Little Creak is Sandor Clegane.

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