florian the fool

Legends of Westeros: Florian the Fool and Jonquil

Six maids in a pool

They’re of noble blood

One Fool, but great, on the shore

He’d seen that flower full of love

“She’ll be in my garden” - he’d sworn

Her name was Jonquil, pure child...

Oh oh, glorious Florian-

He was the first who had opened her thighs

Oh oh, glorious Florian,Run from thousands of lies

To the happiest day of their lives

He was a knight of famouse name,

The owner of Furious sword

But now he’s fool with motley shield

Because of cutting word.

Despite of misery and fate,

Pride’s what he feels for real

He’ll care about vows he gave

With blade of Valiry steel, oh

Jonquil: You are no knight, I know you. You are Florian the Fool.

Florian: I am, my lady, As great a fool as ever lived, and as great a knight as well.

Jonquil: A fool and a knight? I have never heard of such a thing

Florian: Sweet lady, all men are fools, and all men are knights, where women are concerned

Song lyrics by The Starlings (HERE), dialogue from The Hedge Knight.

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They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. “I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, “Well, I’m Florian the Fool.”
A Storm of Swords, Jon XII

“Sweet one,” her father said gently, “listen to me. When you’re old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who’s worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me.” 
A Game of Thrones, Sansa III

anonymous asked:

prompt, if ur taking them: jaime rides to winterfell and bends the knee to sansa and becomes an honorable advisor, Jon is very jealous. (bonus points if he walks past dany who thinks he's bending the knee to her instead of sansa)

Jon x Sansa, Jaime & Sansa

The wind bit into him, whipping at his cloak, but Sansa stood at the battlement’s edge as if they faced only a summer snow. Her hair lifted and fluttered about, even slapping against him once or twice. Jon fought the temptation to wrap it around his fist and pull her to him.

Keep reading

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Tanselle Too-Tall, Florian, Jonquil, Dunk, and Egg by Gary Gianni, for A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms.

She was a head shorter than he was, but still taller than any other girl he had ever seen.
“That was good,” Egg enthused. “I like how you make them move, Jonquil and the dragon and all. I saw a puppet show last year, but they moved all jerky. Yours are more smooth.”
Dunk said, “Your figures are well carved too. The dragon, especially. A fearsome beast.”

It’s interesting to see how heroes change (or don’t change) throughout the books, because the people these characters idolize does say a lot about them. Like with Jon, we find out in his very first chapter who he considers to be his hero:

“Daeron Targaryen was only fourteen when he conquered Dorne,” Jon said. The Young Dragon was one of his heroes. –Jon I, AGoT

Which is confirmed again in Jon’s memory of the game him and Robb would play where they pretended to be heroes of legend:

Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. “I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, “Well, I’m Florian the Fool.” Or Robb would say, “I’m the Young Dragon,” and Jon would reply, “I’m Ser Ryam Redwyne.” –Jon XII, ASoS

Except in this memory it’s Robb who claims the title of the Young Dragon, no doubt as a form of retrospective foreshadowing, since both Daeron and Robb took up the mantle of king while they were young teenagers and both died very young too. Regardless, it’s made clear that Jon adores these young heroes, these legends, these warriors, with his particular favorite being the Young Dragon. Even in ADWD, we see him bring him up again:

When Jon had been a boy at Winterfell, his hero had been the Young Dragon, the boy king who had conquered Dorne at the age of fourteen. Despite his bastard birth, or perhaps because of it, Jon Snow had dreamed of leading men to glory just as King Daeron had, of growing up to be a conqueror. Now he was a man grown and the Wall was his, yet all he had were doubts. He could not even seem to conquer those. –Jon VII, ADWD

Seeing Jon grow from “the Young Dragon was one of his heroes” to “he could not even seem to conquer [his doubts]” is such a poignant way of showing how much Jon had grown. Whatever confidence and naïveté he had before the Wall, disappeared with Jon’s post as Lord Commander. Despite the victories he’s had so far, he hesitates to compare himself to this hero, sees himself as only a shadow of conquerer that Daeron was. In other words, he’s grown up. Jon’s heroes are not his heroes anymore, they’re merely unattainable and reminders of how much he hasn’t done.

Another character who has the same sort of singular hero is Jaime Lannister. For him, it’s not a long dead king that’s his hero, but a knight he lived with and knew. His hero is Arthur Dayne, and he’s a man he brings up in his thoughts and conversations many times, particularly when he ponders knighthood and examines his own weaknesses as a knight. He states his worship of him rather clearly:

And me, that boy I was … when did he die, I wonder? When I donned the white cloak? When I opened Aerys’s throat? That boy had wanted to be Ser Arthur Dayne, but someplace along the way he had become the Smiling Knight instead. –Jaime VIII, ASoS

Like Jon, he wanted to be his hero, but unlike Jon, he walked in the complete opposite direction of the path he should have taken. Jaime did not become the chivalrous and well-loved knight that Arthur was. He became someone selfish, he spurned his vows, and he was reviled as a Kingslayer. Jaime does not delude himself into thinking that he can ever be Arthur Dayne, not even in AFFC when he starts to take his first steps towards changing himself:

“The Sword of the Morning slew the Smiling Knight, my lady. Ser Arthur Dayne, a better knight than me.” –Jaime IV, AFFC

He wondered what Ser Arthur Dayne would have to say of this lot. “How is it that the Kingsguard has fallen so low,” most like. “It was my doing,” I would have to answer. “I opened the door, and did nothing when the vermin began to crawl inside.” –Jaime VIII, ASoS

Arthur, the better knight, slew the Smiling Knight that Jaime feels he had become. While Arthur does remain as a paragon of knighthood in Jaime’s eyes, he also has a new hero in his heart, though he might never admit it to himself.

Jaime sat alone at the table while the shadows crept across the room. As dusk began to settle, he lit a candle and opened the White Book to his own page. Quill and ink he found in a drawer. Beneath the last line Ser Barristan had entered, he wrote in an awkward hand that might have done credit to a six-year-old being taught his first letters by a maester:

Defeated in the Whispering Wood by the Young Wolf Robb Stark during the War of the Five Kings. Held captive at Riverrun and ransomed for a promise unfuffilled. Captured again by the Brave Companions, and maimed at the word of Vargo Hoat their captain, losing his sword hand to the blade of Zollo the Fat. Returned safely to King’s Landing by Brienne, the Maid of Tarth. –Jaime IX, ASoS

Jaime disparages Brienne, calls her stubborn and a wench, and yet is mystified by her innocence, her commitment to duty, and her ability as a warrior. It is not until after Jaime’s travels with Brienne do we begin to see change in Jaime, whose very first chapter begins with thoughts of Cersei. It pushes him to defend her, to saved her from being raped, save her from being gored by a bear, defends her honor to Loras (who had still believed her to be Renly’s murderer), and strikes Ronnet Connington when he speaks ill of her:

“Why, I went to Tarth and saw her. I had six years on her, yet the wench could look me in the eye. She was a sow in silk, though most sows have bigger teats. When she tried to talk she almost choked on her own tongue. I gave her a rose and told her it was all that she would ever have from me.” Connington glanced into the pit. “The bear was less hairy than that freak, I'll—”

Jaime’s golden hand cracked him across the mouth so hard the other knight went stumbling down the steps. His lantern fell and smashed, and the oil spread out, burning. “You are speaking of a highborn lady, ser. Call her by her name. Call her Brienne.”

Connington edged away from the spreading flames on his hands and knees. “Brienne. If it please my lord.” He spat a glob of blood at Jaime’s foot. “Brienne the Beauty.” –Jaime III, AFFC

Which one might consider the peak of irony because Jaime more often than not refers to Brienne as a wench, except for the day they part:

“There’s the stubborn stupid wench that I remember.”

She reddened. “My name is…”

“Brienne of Tarth.” Jaime sighed. “I have a gift for you.” He reached down under the Lord Commander’s chair and brought it out, wrapped in folds of crimson velvet. –Jaime IX, ASoS

Yet even when he calls her wench, it’s hardly out of hate. Jaime admires Brienne. The irreligious Jaime even gives her a sincere prayer:

Unbidden, his thoughts went to Brienne of Tarth. Stupid stubborn ugly wench. He wondered where she was. Father, give her strength. –Jaime I, AFFC

Watching Brienne become his modern-day heroine is just so satisfying. He moves away from worshipping only the dead, whether they be Arthur, or Gerold Hightower, or Rhaegar Targaryen, and finds someone amongst the living, a glimmer of hope, that inspires him. The dead are unattainable; the living are not. Jaime also gives Brienne a Valyrian Steel sword named Oathkeeper, which I can’t help but connect back to Arthur Dayne and Dawn. It seems to me that Jaime believes that every great hero has to have an incredible sword with a good name.

I’m sure there are others in the series that show this same sort of growth via their idols, but these two are the only two I can think of right now (and how fitting, because Jon and Jaime share some pretty interesting parallels IMO).

WILL WE SEE A MARRIAGE BETWEEN JON AND SANSA IN GAME OF THRONES?

And will the pairing that a lot of fans already want be the one that we all need?

A few book readers speculated that a political marriage between Jon Snow and Sansa Stark would be not only possible, but the best thing for House Stark, and maybe even for each other. However, the idea of any kind of match between them was a quiet cult theory, until season 6 of Game Of Thrones, which set Twitter and Tumblr on fire with the idea of the “Jonsa” romance ship. In this article, I’m going to go through as many reasons as I have discovered for this potential pairing, the foreshadowing that a lot of people might have overlooked, and why readers and viewers should think twice before completely dismissing the idea.

As I am starting with the books, I’ll go ahead and start at the very beginning, before the books were written. In George R. R. Martin’s outline for the series, he had a love triangle in the works, between Jon, Tyrion, and Arya. Even before the first book was finished, he had plans for Jon to wed a Stark cousin. The outline states on the subject:

“Arya will be more forgiving… until she realizes, with terror, that she has fallen in love with Jon, who is not only her half-brother but a man of the Night’s Watch, sworn to celibacy. Their passion will continue to torment Jon and Arya throughout the trilogy, until the secret of Jon’s true parentage is finally revealed in the last book.”

Given what I am about to lay out in this article, there seems to be a strong chance of GRRM having kept the cousin love triangle, but switched at least the sister, if not the other man (Jon/Tyrion[Littlefinger]/Sansa).

Jon and Sansa began their stories, and left Winterfell, with very similar ideas and worldviews, despite their differing personalities. Both were not just young, heady, and optimistic; both believed in the songs they were sung to as children, but in the heroes the songs described. Both had fantasies of a quieter life and family that, conspicuously, left each other out, and synchronized perfectly with each other.

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister’s son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly’s boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.
He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. - A Storm Of Swords - Jon XII

This is a fantasy Jon had, ostensibly about Val, the Wildling sister of Mance Rayder’s wife, whom Jon was infatuated with, at the time. However, she does not feature at all after a cursory mention of stealing her away. He fantasized much more about the hypothetical family than her, and both that fact, and his fantasy-family makeup, is very telling, in three ways.
1.  This fantasy is a direct and near-perfect recreation of the Stark household that he remembers, with him as the new Neddish patriarch.
2. He is not fantasizing about a Wildling girl who walks through Walker territory like it ain’t no thang, or a warrior girl, or a highborn princess, or even a platinum-haired nude dragon queen. He is fantasizing about Val as a mother, and more importantly, as not only the mother he knew (Catelyn), but how he wished Catelyn to be.
3. Most women that we read about in aSoIaF or watch in GoT do not share this fantasy; Westerosi girls tend to be action girls. The only female character who had any kind of similar fantasy, let alone one that synchronizes nearly perfectly to Jon’s, is Sansa:

She pictured the two of them sitting together in a garden with puppies in their laps, or listening to a singer strum upon a lute while they floated down the Mander on a pleasure barge. If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa’s dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya. - A Storm Of Swords - Sansa

Although they fantasized about different people ostensibly (Jon-Val; Sansa-Willas/Loras Tyrell), both fantasies complete the other, and tell very similar stories about each of them. Both think that love is an addendum to marriage, and something that needs to be worked on. They both disregard the personalities of their interest for what they remember of their mother and father. They both recreate their dead and missing siblings, with exceptions. Robb, Arya, Bran and Rickon are noted, as well as even a Ned. The only figures missing are themselves and each other.

What makes this so extremely notable is not just that the fantasies click perfectly together. It’s not even that Jon’s always wanted exactly this, even from the start, when he dared not wish for his own family. What makes this truly meaningful, is that there is only one girl in all of Westeros who knows what growing up in Winterfell was like, and who wants the same thing as him, and is not yearning for adventure, vengeance, a throne, or power, let alone above this desire.

Just as Sansa is the only person who fits the bill for Jon, Jon is the only man who has lived up perfectly to Sansa’s fantasies and dreams of heroic knights in shining armor.

“Sweet one,” her father said gently, “listen to me. When you’re old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who’s worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me.” - A Game Of Thrones - Sansa

Curiously, although Prince Aemon Targaryen is a historical character in the Ice & Fire/Thrones universe, Prince Aemon is also the role Jon would take in childhood mock jousts with Robb; judge for yourself if that’s a coincidence.

“I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, “Well, I’m Florian the Fool.” -A Storm of Swords – Jon XII

(Sidenote - foreshadowing with other foreshadowing: if you think about it, Robb literally died a fool. He got himself, and Cat, killed for love, when he could’ve married the Frey girl, gotten safe passage from the Freys, and marched towards Kings Landing to avenge his father and rescue Sansa. But we all know what he was thinking with instead of his brain…)

Jon is by every and all accounts the valiant and heroic knight Sansa wished and pined for, as a dreamy 11-year-old girl. Before I continue, I have to add that the men of the Night’s Watch are often referred to as The Black Knights.

Jon has all of the qualities of the kind of man Ned described to her, as well as all of the qualities of the kind of man she’d always wanted; both as a young, wistful girl dreaming of Aemon the Dragonknight making Queen Naerys his lady love, and the shattered, hardened, and disaffected woman she’s grown to become. She has discarded her fairy tales, because she has realized, through firsthand experience, that those fairytales are not nearly as pretty as they sound. The fairytales are horrifying; they are soaked in the blood and tears of the events and people they describe. Jon is the only character who can fulfill both the dreams and fantasies of 11-year-old Sansa, and the disillusioned young woman who’s never until now known a true hero. No other character in either aSoIaF or GoT can do the same:

Frog-faced Lord Slynt sat at the end of the council table wearing a black velvet doublet and a shiny cloth-of-gold cape, nodding with approval every time the king pronounced a sentence. Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. “Life is not a song, sweetling,” he’d told her. “You may learn that one day to your sorrow.” In life, the monsters win, she told herself, and now it was the Hound’s voice she heard, a cold rasp, metal on stone. “Save yourself some pain, girl, and give him what he wants.” - A Game Of Thrones - Sansa VI

That he did, albeit with poor grace, crossing his arms, scowling, and ignoring the naked steel in his lord commander’s hands. Jon slid the oilcloth down his bastard sword, watching the play of morning light across the ripples, thinking how easily the blade would slide through skin and fat and sinew to part Slynt’s ugly head from his body. All of a man’s crimes were wiped away when he took the black, and all of his allegiances as well, yet he found it hard to think of Janos Slynt as a brother. There is blood between us. This man helped slay my father and did his best to have me killed as well. - A Dance With Dragons - Jon II

Not long after, in the same chapter, Jon does the deed:

Emmett kicked his legs out from under him. Dolorous Edd planted a foot on his back to keep him on his knees as Emmett shoved the block beneath his head. “This will go easier if you stay still,” Jon Snow promised him. “Move to avoid the cut, and you will still die, but your dying will be uglier. Stretch out your neck, my lord.” The pale morning sunlight ran up and down his blade as Jon clasped the hilt of the bastard sword with both hands and raised it high. “If you have any last words, now is the time to speak them,” he said, expecting one last curse.

Janos Slynt twisted his neck around to stare up at him. “Please, my lord. Mercy. I’ll … I’ll go, I will, I …”

No, thought Jon. You closed that door. Longclaw descended.



Their geographic and psychological journeys are near-perfect mirrors of each other. Sansa heads south while Jon goes north. Sansa becomes Lady Lannister, then a bastard (an identity at least partially crafted on her ideas of Jon); then, in the show, Lady Bolton, and finally the Lady of Winterfell. Jon, meanwhile, goes from Bastard, to Jon Stark (in Robb’s will, which Jon hasn’t seen or heard about), to Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, and in the show, finally, King in the North. Both have to pretend they want nothing to do with their previous lives (Sansa as a prisoner in KL, and Jon with the Wildlings). Both have to essentially fake it to make it, as Sansa tries to actively forget she is not Alayne Stone, and Jon is tempted to stay with the Wildlings.
Through all of this, they both try to cling to certain things. Even after abandoning their childhood idealisms to make hard choices, and even through the processes of grieving for their family, as well as trying to become different people, they both have always held notions of justice, fairness, and even compassion close to their hearts and minds.

Also, out of all the surviving Starks, only Sansa sensed Jon’s death:

“There was ice underfoot, and broken stones just waiting to turn an ankle, and the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, as big as mountains.” - A Feast For Crows - Sansa’s final chapter

As soon as news of Jon’s parentage comes out in the North, his claim to Winterfell will be, at the very least, heavily debated among and contested by the Northern lords. Although half Stark, he is not the son of Eddard, but of Lyanna. On top of that, he has a Targaryen father. Seeing as the Mad King killed Ned’s father Rickard Stark, and Ned’s brother Brandon. The Northern lords will have no loyalty to a Targaryen.
Jon/Sansa would be both an excellent twist of the kind that aSoIaF/Got are known for, and mutually beneficial for the both.
Their marriage would secure Jon’s claim to the North, unite the North as it needs to be for the War for the Dawn, and secures the safety and place at Winterfell for both. Also, as she says in the books, “No one will ever marry me for love.” It’s a sad truth, but a truth nonetheless; every and all other Lords would want to marry her for her claim to Winterfell. Jon, though, would never force Sansa to marry anyone. He knows what she’s been through. He cares for her, and would never hurt her in any way. Sansa knows this, and it might just be what will drive her to suggest they marry. Jon needs a Queen either way, to keep the Stark bloodline going.
I will even go so far as to say this: I think that the northern lords will want to make Sansa their Queen after they find out about Jon’s parentage, in which case, same thing; she’ll need to keep the Stark bloodline going. Add to that him being a Targaryen, and she a Stark, they would literally be uniting not only the North, but the South too.
Soon, every person in the whole of at least Westeros will find out about the Night’s King and the White Walkers. It is this exact moment that the North will need stability, and hope. A union between Sansa and Jon would give the northerners nothing less or other than that. Jon is a great commander. He is brave, and honorable, and he will do all he can to keep Sansa and all the northerners safe. He’ll fight for them. The prospect, the reassurance, and after the battle is over and the war is won, Winterfell and the North will be rebuilt, by its people with the support and help of their King and Queen. Everything points to their union.
The prospect, the reassurance, that after the battle is over, after the war is won, Winterfell, the North will be rebuilt, by its people with the support and help of their King and Queen. Everything that points to a good resolution for the stories of Ice & Fire, and Thrones, points to their union.

Even on Thrones, David Benioff and Dan Weiss have planted an insane amount of seeds for Jonsa. Not only for a political union, but in season 6 set the internet on fire with gooey Jonsa romantic tension, with gems such as this moment, from s6e5 (The Door):

Jon: New dress?
Sansa: I made it myself, do you like it?
Jon: Yeah, well, it’s—I like the wolf bit.

Brothers awkwardly fumbling for words to compliment their half-sister’s dress? Not something you see everyday. This scene was unnecessary, but D&D included it, I’ll allege for a reason. I’m not necessarily saying that Jon is in love with Sansa here, but the tension between them and their interactions are very awkward, and not how they should be between two people who think they are brother and sister. Also, this is not something a brother says to a sister in danger:

Jon: I won’t ever let him touch you again. I’ll protect you. I promise. (From s6e9 - Battle Of The Bastards)

Again, a bizarre choice of words, if Jonsa is not a component of the story. Brothers say things like “ I will never let him hurt you again”, or “tell me where he is”.  Let’s not forget most of their scenes have them speaking while being surrounded by warm candle light and with soft focus; quite a romantic atmosphere for two SIBLINGS.
The way their scenes were shot, do not only mirror Ned’s and Cat’s, but also Robb’s and Talisa’s. I find it hard to believe D&D wrote and shot their scenes the way they did accidentally. They wanted to do one of either two things:
either set Twitter and Tumblr on fire with Sophie and Kit’s chemistry; or, subtly, put this notion into our heads, have us talk about it, and speculate. Whichever they did, it obviously worked, thus introducing us to the idea, and actually preparing us for it.

PS I thought that @castaliareed and @fedonciadale  would be interested in this meta; I hope it’s good for a 1st.

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“Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. “I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, “Well, I’m Florian the Fool.” Or Robb would say, “I’m the Young Dragon,” and Jon would reply, “I’m Ser Ryam Redwyne.”
~ George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords.

Holy shit. More Jonsa foreshadowing found in the books...

Following up on my Jon will be blind/partially blind theory that I wrote about here, we now have another figure from the Age of Heroes, in addition to the foreshadowing of Jon as Aemon the Dragonknight. 

According to Wiki of Ice and Fire, 

Symeon Star-Eyes is a legendary figure from the Age of Heroes who was blind. He is described in tales as a knight even though chivalry came to Westeros thousands of years after.

So I searched for all instances of Symeon across all the books and we have:


“True knights.” The queen seemed to find that wonderfully amusing. “No doubt you’re right. So why don’t you just eat your broth like a good girl and wait for Symeon Star-Eyes and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight to come rescue you, sweetling. I’m sure it won’t be very long now.” - Sansa, ACoK

(grrrrr….Jon has to be named Aemon it’s just too fucking obvious of a spoiler about Jon’s fate if they did it in the show)

Also more mentions of Symeon:


“There was a knight once who couldn’t see,” Bran said stubbornly, as Ser Rodrik went on below. “Old Nan told me about him. He had a long staff with blades at both ends and he could spin it in his hands and chop two men at once.”

“Symeon Star-Eyes,” Luwin said as he marked numbers in a book. “When he lost his eyes, he put star sapphires in the empty sockets, or so the singers claim. Bran, that is only a story, like the tales of Florian the Fool. A fable from the Age of Heroes.” The maester tsked. “You must put these dreams aside, they will only break your heart.”

The mention of dreams reminded him. “I dreamed about the crow again last night. The one with three eyes. He flew into my bedchamber and told me to come with him, so I did. We went down to the crypts. Father was there, and we talked. He was sad.”

“And why was that?” Luwin peered through his tube.

“It was something to do about Jon, I think.” The dream had been deeply disturbing, more so than any of the other crow dreams. “Hodor won’t go down into the crypts.” - Bran, AGoT


“Those old histories are full of kings who reigned for hundreds of years, and knights riding around a thousand years before there were knights. You know the tales, Brandon the Builder, Symeon Star-Eyes, Night’s King … we say that you’re the nine-hundred-and-ninety-eighth Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, but the oldest list I’ve found shows six hundred seventy-four commanders, which suggests that it was written during—”
“Long ago,” Jon broke in. “What about the Others?”

-Jon AND Sam (the only chapter that overlaps across ADWD and AFFC)


“Not every man has it in him to be Prince Aemon the Dragonknight or Symeon Star-Eyes” - Manderly in Davos’ chapter, ADWD


WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. We have both Aemon and Symeon mentioned together, two characters associated with blindness, and knighthood. Also characters that Sansa is told to wait for as she sits and drinks soup (OMG), and a character who puts sapphires in his eyes - implying that he is SEARCHING and LOOKING for Sansa just like Brienne (who has a ton of sapphire imagery). A final point here: in ASOS, Sansa is followed by an old blind dog that sits by the fire next to her, and comforts her when she feels alone.

thehound  asked:

top 5/10 sansan moments (break my heart)

1. The Blackwater

“I could keep you safe,” he rasped. “They’re all afraid of me. No one would hurt you again, or I’d kill them.” He yanked her closer, and for a moment she thought he meant to kiss her. He was too strong to fight. She closed her eyes, wanting it to be over, but nothing happened. “Still can’t bear to look, can you?” she heard him say.


Some instinct made her lift her hand and cup his cheek with her fingers. The room was too dark for her to see him, but she could feel the stickiness of the blood, and a wetness that was not blood. “Little bird,” he said once more, his voice raw and harsh as steel on stone. Then he rose from the bed. Sansa heard cloth ripping, followed by the softer sound of retreating footsteps.

When she crawled out of bed, long moments later, she was alone. She found his cloak on the floor, twisted up tight, the white wool stained by blood and fire. The sky outside was darker by then, with only a few pale green ghosts dancing against the stars. A chill wind was blowing, banging the shutters. Sansa was cold. She shook out the torn cloak and huddled beneath it on the floor, shivering. 

2. When Sandor tells Sansa about how he was burned

The rasping voice trailed off. He squatted silently before her, a hulking black shape shrouded in the night, hidden from her eyes. Sansa could hear his ragged breathing. She was sad for him, she realized. Somehow, the fear had gone away.

The silence went on and on, so long that she began to grow afraid once more, but she was afraid for him now, not for herself. She found his massive shoulder with her hand. “He was no true knight,” she whispered to him.

The Hound threw back his head and roared. Sansa stumbled back, away from him, but he caught her arm. “No,” he growled at her, “no, little bird, he was no true knight.”

3. When Sandor stops Sansa from killing Joffrey

You could do it, she told herself. You could. Do it right now. It wouldn’t even matter if she went over with him. It wouldn’t matter at all.

“Here, girl.” Sandor Clegane knelt before her, between her and Joffrey. With a delicacy surprising in such a big man, he dabbed at the blood welling from her broken lip.

The moment was gone. Sansa lowered her eyes. “Thank you,” she said when he was done. She was a good girl, and always remembered her courtesies. 

4. Their whole conversation when Sansa thanks Sandor for saving her from the bread riot

“True knights protect the weak.”

He snorted. “There are no true knights, no more than there are gods. If you can’t protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can. Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don’t ever believe any different.”

Sansa backed away from him. “You’re awful.”

“I’m honest. It’s the world that’s awful. Now fly away, little bird, I’m sick of you peeping at me.”

Wordless, she fled. She was afraid of Sandor Clegane … and yet, some part of her wished that Ser Dontos had a little of the Hound’s ferocity. There are gods, she told herself, and there are true knights too. All the stories can’t be lies.

5. The Serpentine Steps

“A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he’ll look you straight in the face.” He cupped her under the jaw, raising her chin, his fingers pinching her painfully. “And that’s more than little birds can do, isn’t it? I never got my song.”

“I … I know a song about Florian and Jonquil.”

“Florian and Jonquil? A fool and his cunt. Spare me. But one day I’ll have a song from you, whether you will it or no.”

“I will sing it for you gladly.”

Sandor Clegane snorted. “Pretty thing, and such a bad liar. A dog can smell a lie, you know. Look around you, and take a good whiff. They’re all liars here … and every one better than you.”

*Honorary mentions: All the times Sansa thinks of Sandor post-Blackwater, specifically: 

I wish the Hound were here. The night of the battle, Sandor Clegane had come to her chambers to take her from the city, but Sansa had refused. Sometimes she lay awake at night, wondering if she’d been wise. She had his stained white cloak hidden in a cedar chest beneath her summer silks. She could not say why she’d kept it. The Hound had turned craven, she heard it said; at the height of the battle, he got so drunk the Imp had to take his men. But Sansa understood. She knew the secret of his burned face. It was only the fire he feared. That night, the wildfire had set the river itself ablaze, and filled the very air with green flame. Even in the castle, Sansa had been afraid. Outside… she could scarcely imagine it. 


A dog can smell a lie, you know, the Hound had told her once. She could almost hear the rough rasp of his voice. Look around you, and take a good whiff. They’re all liars here, and every one better than you. She wondered what had become of Sandor Clegane. Did he know that they’d killed Joffrey? Would he care? He had been the prince’s sworn shield for years.


As the boy’s lips touched her own she found herself thinking of another kiss. She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak. 

2

I never got my song. I… I know a song about Florian and Jonquil. Florian and Jonquil? A fool and his cunt. Spare me. But one day I’ll have a song from you, whether you will it or no. I will sing it for you gladly. Pretty thing, and such a bad liar.

anonymous asked:

What's ur favorite jonsa book moments?!

Hi! This will be long because I love pretty much everything Jonsa related in the books and there’s a lot of great things.

Aside from their journeys being parallels of one another with Sansa starting as a true born daughter of a Lord and ending up as a bastard and people thinking that Jon is the said Lord’s bastard son and becoming the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch I really love these moments bellow. 

My favorite moment has to be Jon cutting off Lord Slynt‘s head after Sansa wished some hero would do it. So, basically, Jon is Sansa’s hero that she has been looking for all of her life.

“Frog-faced Lord Slynt sat at the end of the council table wearing a black velvet doublet and a shiny cloth-of-gold cape, nodding with approval every time the king pronounced a sentence. Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes…”

“The smile that Lord Janos Slynt smiled then had all the sweetness of rancid butter. Until Jon said, ‘Edd, fetch me a block,’ and unsheathed Longclaw.” 

I also really love both Sansa and Dany sensing Jon’s “death.” There could probably be an interesting meta written about this, but I can’t write for the life of me so I’m not doing it, lol.

 “There was ice underfoot, and broken stones just waiting to turn an ankle, and the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, big as mountains.” - Sansa 

“Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry.” - Dany

This parallel:

”She shouted for Ser Dontos, for her brothers, for her dead father and her dead wolf, for gallant Ser Loras who had given her a red rose once, but none of them came. She called for the heroes from the songs, for Florian and Ser Ryam Redwyne and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, but no one heard. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes.”

“’I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,’ Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, ‘Well, I’m Florian the Fool.’ Or Robb would say, ‘I’m the Young Dragon,’ and Jon would reply, ’I’m Ser Ryam Redwyne.’

Also, Jon thinking about Sansa before dying and associating her with Ygritte.

“(He thought) Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

Here are some other mentions I love.

Jon mentioning Sansa:

 “Jon said, ‘Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.’”

“’That’s pretty.’ He remembered Sansa telling him once that he should say that whenever a lady told him her name.“

“Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey’s pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell’s Great Hall.” (I still can’t believe that of all the words he could use, he used the word RADIANT.)

“He found himself thinking of his sisters, perhaps because he’d dreamed of them last night. Sansa would call this an enchantment, and tears would fill her eyes at the wonder of it, but Arya would run out laughing and shouting, wanting to touch it all.“

Sansa mentioning Jon:

“She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still … with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise.“ 

“She sang for mercy, for the living and the dead alike, for Bran and Rickon and Robb, for her sister Arya and her bastard brother Jon Snow, away off on the Wall.”

3

And then the years were gone, he was back at Winterfell once more, wearing a guilted leather coat in place of mail and plate. His sword was not made of wood, and it was Robb stood facing him, not Iron Emmett. Every morning they had trailed together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes.

I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back

“Well I’m Florian the Fool.” Or Robb would say, “I’m the Young Dragon,” 

And Jon would reply “I’m Ser Ryem Redwyne.

That morning he called it first. “I’m Lord of Winterfell!” he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time,  Robb has answered, “You can’t be Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard - born. My lady mother says you can’t ever be the Lord of Winterfell.”

A Storm of Swords

Obvious

By: sansuhhhsnark

(Also on ao3)


“She’s just so precious. I’m still so in awe of her."

They were stretched out across their bed, Jon tickling little Lyarra under her chin. The babe giggled up at her father, and Jon and Sansa both laughed.

"She is rather wonderful, isn’t she?” Sansa snuggled closer to her daughter, giving Lya one of her fingers to hold. “How could something so absolutely perfect come out of such a fractured world like ours?”

“Sometimes the most beautiful beginnings come from broken ends,” he said, giving Lya’s chubby cheek a kiss.

Sansa propped herself up on an elbow.

“Jon that was an uncharacteristically romantic things for you to say.”

Her husband gave a loose lock of her hair a gentle tug, smiling. “My beautiful ladies seem to bring out the best parts of me.” He curled the red strands around his finger. “You do such a good job with her, love. You were meant to be a mother.”

“And you, a father.” She leaned over, careful of the babe, to give him a gentle kiss.

Sansa smiled down at her little pup, with the downy tufts of dark hair so like Jon’s, and her chubby cheeks round and pink. Her little rosebud mouth was pursed as she gazed up at her parents like infants are wont to do, focusing and unfocusing on the world around them, delighting in a familiar face or familiar voice. Sansa kissed the dear little face and breathed in the sweet scent of her.

“Did you ever dream this would happen? That we would be here, in Winterfell, raising sons and daughters, hearing our children’s voices echoing through the halls as ours once did?”

“Aye, I dreamed of it.” Jon’s scarred hand was large against Lyarra’s rounded belly, moving gently with each breath she took. “I dreamed of it, but I didn’t dare hope. I wished to be Lord of Winterfell, once, with children of my own and a son named Robb.”

“And your lady wife?” Sansa asked, teasingly.

Jon pauses, contemplating. “I was never able to hope for Ygritte. We were so young, and I was still a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch, and then she died.” His face is grim at the memory. “Besides, she was too wild, too willful. She wouldn’t have been happy being constrained in the role of a lord’s wife.”

“And am I so constrained by being your wife, husband?” she asks, lightly.

“You’re more than just a wife, Sansa. You flourish in your role, far more than I ever could in mine. I may be King, but our people know it is the Queen in the North who rules over every man in the kingdom, including me.” He smiles at her, proudly. “I never once dreamed that I would have a wife as lovely and kind and clever as you, Sansa. You’re my partner in all things.”
She leans over to kiss him again.

“You know,” she says, after a moment, “I dreamt of a son named Robb as well." She threads her fingers though his. "I dreamt of many children to raise and love, and a home of my own to run. I wanted a little girl who looked like Arya- like you. I wished to marry a prince who would love me like Aemon Targaryen the Dragonknight loved his Queen Naerys.”

She gave a small laugh, reminiscing on the dreams of that young girl who had died so long ago in King’s Landing. Could that girl be this happy, married to her brother-turned-cousin, now a bastard-turned-king?

“Once, Father promised me that I would marry someone brave, gentle, and strong, and now here you are.”

He was so much more than she deserved, more than she ever could have wished for in her foolish girl’s heart. He’s more than she could have known to wish for, stupid as she once was. 

Jon kissed the back of her hand.

“Growing up, whenever Robb and I played at swords, I would choose to be the Dragonknight.”

“And Robb would be Florian the Fool,” Sansa said, remembering. “It’s all so obvious now.”

She settles back down against the furs and blankets, and sinks into the soft pillow, sighing. Her eyes meet her husband’s from across the bed and they smile at each other- gently, comfortingly, lovingly.

Yes, she thinks. It was all so obvious now.

here, have an endgame wank

Alright, for starters this blog is not really run by me (Lizzie/ @theonbaejoys) so much anymore. I think there’s 5 mods and I’ve taken a step back from reading any meta the past month or so. I’ve become more interested in other ships and have been writing fanfic for them, which if you follow me you will have noticed! (And potentially unfollowed me for haha). But though I have been tagging my Jon posts as #fuckboy in the north, Jon has always been my favourite ASOIAF character and probably always will be. And though I am not as interested in jonsa as I once was, I still believe it’s happening. 

I have a lot of faith that Jon and Sansa are ~*~endgame~*~. But I don’t need any undercover lover theories, and neither do you. In fact, ultimately I think they’re a waste of time that have just lead to more and more drama, within and outside the jonxsansa fandom. I don’t have a problem with people theorizing about ~*~undercover Jon~*~*~ and I do not think it’s rape by deception ( goodqueenalys did a better job summing that up than I ever will, I also would never try). Honestly, there’s no way to predict the show because GoT is no longer logical and gaping plot holes exist in every single plot.

In my opinion, Jon and Sansa ending up together and ruling the north and rebuilding Winterfell – whether for love or for politics, or potentially both – is simply the most logical narrative choice for Jon and Sansa’s character arcs. If you believe the Iron Throne will be melted down and the North will become independent, as I do, then someone must rule the North. If you believe the Starks endure (they always do!), then somebody must have Stark babies. 

Keep reading

Jon Snow: The silent, unknown and unthought answer to Sansa’s hopes.

Last October I wrote a long post about Sansa & The Story of Jenny of Oldstones and The Prince of Dragonflies. The Prince of Dragonflies was a Targaryen prince who gave up the throne to be with his love, a girl called Jenny of Oldstones. 

I wrote about the connections between Sansa and said love story and when I wondered who could it play the part of the Prince of Dragonflies in Sansa’s story? Who could it be the prince willing to give up the throne for love? Guess what or who was the answer? 

Here is an extract of my long post (And the extract is long itself):  

When Jon had been very young, too young to understand what it meant to be a bastard, he used to dream that one day Winterfell might be his. Later, when he was older, he had been ashamed of those dreams. Winterfell would go to Robb and then his sons, or to Bran or Rickon should Robb die childless. And after them came Sansa and Arya. Even to dream otherwise seemed disloyal, as if he were betraying them in his heart, wishing for their deaths. I never wanted this, he thought as he stood before the blue-eyed king and the red woman. I loved Robb, loved all of them … I never wanted any harm to come to any of them, but it did. And now there’s only me. All he had to do was say the word, and he would be Jon Stark, and nevermore a Snow. All he had to do was pledge this king his fealty, and Winterfell was his. All he had to do …

…was forswear his vows again.

[…] Are you refusing me, Jon Snow?“

“No,” Jon said, too quickly. It was Winterfell the king was speaking of, and Winterfell was not to be lightly refused. “I mean … this has all come very suddenly, Your Grace. Might I beg you for some time to consider?”

“As you wish. But consider quickly. I am not a patient man, as your black brothers are about to discover.” Stannis put a thin, fleshless hand on Jon’s shoulder. “Say nothing of what we’ve discussed here today. To anyone. But when you return, you need only bend your knee, lay your sword at my feet, and pledge yourself to my service, and you shall rise again as Jon Stark, the Lord of Winterfell.”

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XI

Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. “I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, “Well, I’m Florian the Fool.” Or Robb would say, “I’m the Young Dragon,” and Jon would reply, “I’m Ser Ryam Redwyne.

That morning he called it first. “I’m Lord of Winterfell!” he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, “You can’t be Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born. My lady mother says you can’t ever be the Lord of Winterfell.”

[…] Why am I so angry? he asked himself, but it was a stupid question. Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father’s heir.

[…] Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins.

[…] Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? […] Would I sooner be hanged for a turncloak by Lord Janos, or forswear my vows, marry Val, and become the Lord of Winterfell? It seemed an easy choice when he thought of it in those terms […]

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me.  It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger… he could feel it. It was food he needed, prey, a red deer that stank of fear or a great elk proud and defiant. He needed to kill and fill his belly with fresh meat and hot dark blood. His mouth began to water with the thought.

It was a long moment before he understood what was happening. When he did, he bolted to his feet. “Ghost?”

[…] Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they’d found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

At this point, we all know what was Jon’s answer, right? And we know that his answer was built based on love, the love for his family, his brothers and sisters, love epitomized in one name:

“How can I lose men I do not have? I had hoped to bestow Winterfell on a northman, you may recall. A son of Eddard Stark. He threw my offer in my face.” Stannis Baratheon with a grievance was like a mastiff with a bone; he gnawed it down to splinters.

“By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.”

“Lady Lannister, you mean? Are you so eager to see the Imp perched on your father’s seat? I promise you, that will not happen whilst I live, Lord Snow.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon I

Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

“I have heard all I need to hear of Lady Lannister and her claim.” The king set the cup aside. “You could bring the north to me. Your father’s bannermen would rally to the son of Eddard Stark. Even Lord Too-Fat-to-Sit-a-Horse. White Harbor would give me a ready source of supply and a secure base to which I could retreat at need. It is not too late to amend your folly, Snow. Take a knee and swear that bastard sword to me, and rise as Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.”

How many times will he make me say it? “My sword is sworn to the Night’s Watch.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon IV

I know all these facts are not equal to the facts of the story of Jenny of Oldstones and her Prince of Dragonflies, Jon is not exactly giving up Winterfell to marry Sansa, and Sansa is sure that she is only appealing because of her claim:  

“I will be safe in Highgarden. Willas will keep me safe.”

“But he does not know you,” Dontos insisted, “and he will not love you. Jonquil, Jonquil, open your sweet eyes, these Tyrells care nothing for you. It’s your claim they mean to wed.”

“My claim?” She was lost for a moment.

“Sweetling,” he told her, “you are heir to Winterfell.” He grabbed her again, pleading that she must not do this thing, and Sansa wrenched free and left him swaying beneath the heart tree. She had not visited the godswood since.

But she had not forgotten his words, either. The heir to Winterfell, she would think as she lay abed at night. It’s your claim they mean to wed. Sansa had grown up with three brothers. She never thought to have a claim, but with Bran and Rickon dead… It doesn’t matter, there’s still Robb, he’s a man grown now, and soon he’ll wed and have a son. Anyway, Willas Tyrell will have Highgarden, what would he want with Winterfell?

A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

How would you like to marry your cousin, the Lord Robert?”

The thought made Sansa weary. All she knew of Robert Arryn was that he was a little boy, and sickly. It is not me she wants her son to marry, it is my claim. No one will ever marry me for love. But lying came easy to her now. “I … can scarcely wait to meet him, my lady. But he is still a child, is he not?”

A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

But, instead of Tyrion, Willas or even Robert, who pursue Sansa’s claim over her, there is a man that has been offered Winterfell and choose her over it:By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.“ "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.” Among all the high lords interested in becoming the Lord of Winterfell by marrying Sansa Stark, the bastard Jon Snow refused to despoil his sister Sansa of her rights, even if her claim is the one thing he has wanted as much as he had ever wanted anything. 

Don’t you find this very romantic? I mean, when Sansa thinks: “No one will ever marry me for love” (Because everyone only wants her claim to Winterfell), at the other part of the world is Jon Snow saying more than once: By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.“ "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa." This for me is one of the most romantic passages of the books.

And Jon giving up Winterfell is not the first time he is the silent and unknown answer to Sansa’s hopes. As I’m going to explain next, repeatedly when Sansa has a wish or a dream about her lost family and her home, Winterfell, there is always subtle or not so subtle references of Jon Snow.

As I just said, Jon giving up Winterfell is not the first time he plays the role of the hero of Sansa’s hopes. We have the whole Janos Slynt case (Also romantic, beheading included), where Jon Snow, as the Lord Commander of The Night’s Watch, literally becomes Sansa’s hoped hero at a point where she’s convinced herself that there are no heroes in the real life:

Frog-faced Lord Slynt sat at the end of the council table wearing a black velvet doublet and a shiny cloth-of-gold cape, nodding with approval every time the king pronounced a sentence. Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. “Life is not a song, sweetling,” he’d told her. “You may learn that one day to your sorrow.” In life, the monsters win, she told herself, and now it was the Hound’s voice she heard, a cold rasp, metal on stone. “Save yourself some pain, girl, and give him what he wants.”

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa VI

“You are refusing to obey my order?”

“You can stick your order up your bastard’s arse,” said Slynt, his jowls quivering.

[…] “As you will.” Jon nodded to Iron Emmett. “Please take Lord Janos to the Wall—”

[…] “I will not hang him,” said Jon. “Bring him here.”

“Oh, Seven save us,” he heard Bowen Marsh cry out. The smile that Lord Janos Slynt smiled then had all the sweetness of rancid butter. Until Jon said, “Edd, fetch me a block,” and unsheathed Longclaw.

[…] The pale morning sunlight ran up and down his blade as Jon clasped the hilt of the bastard sword with both hands and raised it high. “If you have any last words, now is the time to speak them,” he said, expecting one last curse.

Janos Slynt twisted his neck around to stare up at him. “Please, my lord. Mercy. I’ll … I’ll go, I will, I …”

No, thought Jon. You closed that door. Longclaw descended.

“Can I have his boots?” asked Owen the Oaf, as Janos Slynt’s head went rolling across the muddy ground. “They’re almost new, those boots. Lined with fur.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon II

If you read the entire chapter, you will find that during his conversation with Janos Slynt, Jon was thinking about Ned Stark and the participation of Slynt in his father’s death at King’s Landing. Jon even thought about how easy it would be beheading him with Longclaw. And maybe that was the reason why he opted for beheading him instead of hanging him, just as Sansa wished.

And once more, when she thinks she’s lost all of her family, there is Jon.

Indeed, in A Storm of Swords, when she remembers her family after a dream where she is back at Winterfell with them: That was such a sweet dream” “If only dreaming could make it so…, she thinks that all of them are dead (Lady, Robb, Bran, Rickon, Arya, Ned, Cat, Septa Mordane): All of them are dead but me. She was alone in the world now.. But she forgets someone that is alive, someone she never had any news or suspected he was dead: his bastard half brother Jon Snow.

And later in A Feast for Crows, when she is under the disguise of the bastard Alayne Stone, the memory of her bastard half brother awoke:

There’s a new High Septon, did you know? Oh, and the Night’s Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark’s.“

"Jon Snow?” she blurted out, surprised.

“Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose.”

She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still… with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

It is really beautiful how she associates her family and her home with the word ‘sweet’, and in that moment, when she is living as a bastard girl, she thinks of Jon, maybe for the first time, with sweet words: “Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again”.

So, the sweet dream of being again with someone of her family back in Winterfell is possible after all; even if she thinks it’s not because Alayne Stone had no brothers. But Sansa Stark does have a brother.

And once again, when she thinks that her own song was ended, there is ‘Snow’.

Exactly, at the end of A Storm of Swords, while snow was falling on the Eyrie, she thought this: She had last seen snow the day she’d left Winterfell”. I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done”.

Anew, the ‘snow’ was preceded by a dream of her family and her home:

She awoke all at once, every nerve atingle. For a moment she did not remember where she was. She had dreamt that she was little, still sharing a bedchamber with her sister Arya. But it was her maid she heard tossing in sleep, not her sister, and this was not Winterfell, but the Eyrie. And I am Alayne Stone, a bastard girl. The room was cold and black, though she was warm beneath the blankets. Dawn had not yet come. Sometimes she dreamed of Ser Ilyn Payne and woke with her heart thumping, but this dream had not been like that. Home. It was a dream of home.

The Eyrie was no home.

[…] Snow was falling on the Eyrie.

Outside the flakes drifted down as soft and silent as memory. Was this what woke me? Already the snowfall lay thick upon the garden below, blanketing the grass, dusting the shrubs and statues with white and weighing down the branches of the trees. The sight took Sansa back to cold nights long ago, in the long summer of her childhood.

She had last seen snow the day she’d left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands. It hurt to remember how happy she had been that morning. Hullen had helped her mount, and she’d ridden out with the snowflakes swirling around her, off to see the great wide world. I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done.

A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

There is a pattern here, a dichotomy: Reality and Desire. When Sansa has a wish of vengeance or a dream of having her family and her home back, the reality immediately comes and crashes against her desires, and she ends up discarding them. But, even without knowing it yet, her desires are possible with the help of her unthought brother, Jon Snow.

The seventh Sansa’s chapter of A Storm of Swords had more references of her lost home, Winterfell and Jon Snow:

When she opened the door to the garden, it was so lovely that she held her breath, unwilling to disturb such perfect beauty. The snow drifted down and down, all in ghostly silence, and lay thick and unbroken on the ground. All color had fled the world outside. It was a place of whites and blacks and greys. White towers and white snow and white statues, black shadows and black trees, the dark grey sky above. A pure world, Sansa thought. I do not belong here.

Yet she stepped out all the same. Her boots tore ankle-deep holes into the smooth white surface of the snow, yet made no sound. Sansa drifted past frosted shrubs and thin dark trees, and wondered if she were still dreaming. Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks. At the center of the garden, beside the statue of the weeping woman that lay broken and half-buried on the ground, she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams.

When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me.

A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

The references of Winterfell and her Stark blood are very clear. Stark colors: It was a place of whites and blacks and greys”. Her lost/destroyed home and dreams: She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams”. Her lost faith in any goods: It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me”.

The references of Jon are quite subtle. This two lines: The snow drifted down and down, all in ghostly silence” “Her boots tore ankle-deep holes into the smooth white surface of the snow, yet made no sound”, remind me of Jon’s silent direwolf Ghost. And this one, Oh this one: “Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks”, this one could be about Ghost licking her cheeks or maybe something else… Anyway, lets continue:

Sansa began to make snowballs, shaping and smoothing them until they were round and white and perfect. She remembered a summer’s snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning. They’d each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she’d had none. Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she’d slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn’t, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing.

What do I want with snowballs? She looked at her sad little arsenal. There’s no one to throw them at. She let the one she was making drop from her hand. I could build a snow knight instead, she thought. Or even…

[…] The snow fell and the castle rose. Two walls ankle-high, the inner taller than the outer. Towers and turrets, keeps and stairs, a round kitchen, a square armory, the stables along the inside of the west wall. It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell. She found twigs and fallen branches beneath the snow and broke off the ends to make the trees for the godswood. For the gravestones in the lichyard she used bits of bark. Soon her gloves and her boots were crusty white, her hands were tingling, and her feet were soaked and cold, but she did not care. The castle was all that mattered. Some things were hard to remember, but most came back to her easily, as if she had been there only yesterday. The Library Tower, with the steep stonework stair twisting about its exterior. The gatehouse, two huge bulwarks, the arched gate between them, crenellations all along the top…

A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

Again, the references of Winterfell are very clear. “It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell”. “The castle was all that mattered”. For me, this lines are connected with the prophecy of The Ghost of High Heart about Sansa killing some savage giant in a castle built of snow. And it implies that Sansa is going to actively participate in Winterfell rebuilding. And who else want to rebuild Winterfell?

Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

That’s why this line: The snow fell and the castle rose” makes me think that Jon Snow will help Sansa to rebuild Winterfell, their lost and broken home.

And Jon and Sansa could also “rebuild” the Stark dynasty, the blood of Winterfell, as they both share the dream to have children to fill the void of their lost family, their lost parents and siblings:

Willas would be Lord of Highgarden and she would be his lady.

She pictured the two of them sitting together in a garden with puppies in their laps, or listening to a singer strum upon a lute while they floated down the Mander on a pleasure barge. If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa’s dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister’s son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly’s boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

And finally, this line: Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair”, reminds me of Jon messing up Arya’s hair.

At this point I must emphasize that the seventh Sansa’s chapter of A Storm of Swords comes immediately after the twelfth Jon’s chapter, the chapter where he found his answer to Stannis offer of Winterfell. And what it was that helped John to find his answer? His beloved direwolf, Ghost:

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger … he could feel it. It was food he needed, prey, a red deer that stank of fear or a great elk proud and defiant. He needed to kill and fill his belly with fresh meat and hot dark blood. His mouth began to water with the thought.

It was a long moment before he understood what was happening. When he did, he bolted to his feet. “Ghost?” He turned toward the wood, and there he came, padding silently out of the green dusk, the breath coming warm and white from his open jaws. “Ghost!” he shouted, and the direwolf broke into a run. He was leaner than he had been, but bigger as well, and the only sound he made was the soft crunch of dead leaves beneath his paws. When he reached Jon he leapt, and they wrestled amidst brown grass and long shadows as the stars came out above them. “Gods, wolf, where have you been?” Jon said when Ghost stopped worrying at his forearm. “I thought you’d died on me, like Robb and Ygritte and all the rest. I’ve had no sense of you, not since I climbed the Wall, not even in dreams.” The direwolf had no answer, but he licked Jon’s face with a tongue like a wet rasp, and his eyes caught the last light and shone like two great red suns.

Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they’d found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

So, at the same time, Jon and Sansa had an important realization concerning to their lost and broken home, Winterfell. And what that helped them to reach that realization was the snow. Literally snow in Sansa’s case and Ghost, the direwolf as white as snow, in Jon’s case. And this connection between Jon and Sansa reminds me of another one related to the snow. I called this connection ‘Children of the Mountain’:

Soon they were high enough so that looking down was best not considered. There was nothing below but yawning blackness, nothing above but moon and stars. “The mountain is your mother,” Stonesnake had told him during an easier climb a few days past. “Cling to her, press your face up against her teats, and she won’t drop you.” Jon had made a joke of it, saying how he’d always wondered who his mother was, but never thought to find her in the Frostfangs. It did not seem nearly so amusing now. One step and then another, he thought, clinging tight.

—A Clash of Kings - Jon VI

“You’re mistaken. I never fall.” Mya’s hair had tumbled across her cheek, hiding one eye.

“Almost, I said. I saw you. Weren’t you afraid?

“Mya shook her head. "I remember a man throwing me in the air when I was very little. He stands as tall as the sky, and he throws me up so high it feels as though I’m flying. We’re both laughing, laughing so much that I can hardly catch a breath, and finally I laugh so hard I wet myself, but that only makes him laugh the louder. I was never afraid when he was throwing me. I knew that he would always be there to catch me.” She pushed her hair back. “Then one day he wasn’t. Men come and go. They lie, or die, or leave you. A mountain is not a man, though, and a stone is a mountain’s daughter. I trust my father, and I trust my mules. I won’t fall.” She put her hand on a jagged spur of rock, and got to her feet. “Best finish. We have a long way yet to go, and I can smell a storm.”

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

In both cases, we are talking about ‘Snowy Mountains’, the Frostfangs and the Eyrie with the winter upon it. In both cases, a ‘Stone’ related person said to them that they are ‘Children of the Mountain’, Stonesnake and Mya Stone. In both cases the Mountain will never drop or let fall their children. That way, Jon, a motherless boy, finds a mother; and Sansa, under the disguise of Alayne Stone, finds a better father than the despicable Lord Baelish.  

One more connection between Jon and Sansa is the one related to Ghost. This connection appears in the same Sansa’s chapter in A Feast for Crows, Alayne II, previously mentioned, the one where she thought of Jon Snow for the first time in ages while descending from the Eyrie to the Gates of the Moon. And in Jon’s case, it appears in his last chapter in A Dance with Dragons, Jon XIII. Let’s see:

"Ser Sweetrobin,” Lord Robert said, and Alayne knew that she dare not wait for Mya to return. She helped the boy dismount, and hand in hand they walked out onto the bare stone saddle, their cloaks snapping and flapping behind them. All around was empty air and sky, the ground falling away sharply to either side. There was ice underfoot, and broken stones just waiting to turn an ankle, and the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, big as mountains.

A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

Outside the armory, Mully and the Flea stood shivering at guard. “Shouldn’t you be inside, out of this wind?” Jon asked.“That’d be sweet, m'lord,” said Fulk the Flea, “but your wolf’s in no mood for company today.”

Mully agreed. “He tried to take a bite o’ me, he did.”

“Ghost?” Jon was shocked.

“Unless your lordship has some other white wolf, aye. I never seen him like this, m'lord. All wild-like, I mean.”

He was not wrong, as Jon discovered for himself when he slipped inside the doors. The big white direwolf would not lie still. He paced from one end of the armory to the other, past the cold forge and back again. “Easy, Ghost,” Jon called. “Down. Sit, Ghost. Down.” Yet when he made to touch him, the wolf bristled and bared his teeth. It’s that bloody boar. Even in here, Ghost can smell his stink.

Mormont’s raven seemed agitated too. “Snow,” the bird kept screaming. “Snow, snow, snow.” Jon shooed him off, had Satin start a fire, then sent him out after Bowen Marsh and Othell Yarwyck. “Bring a flagon of mulled wine as well.”

[…] This was pointless, Jon thought. Pointless, fruitless, hopeless. “Thank you for your counsel, my lords.”

Satin helped them back into their cloaks. As they walked through the armory, Ghost sniffed at them, his tail upraised and bristling. My brothers. The Night’s Watch needed leaders with the wisdom of Maester Aemon, the learning of Samwell Tarly, the courage of Qhorin Halfhand, the stubborn strength of the Old Bear, the compassion of Donal Noye. What it had instead was them.

[…] When Wick Whittlestick slashed at his throat, the word turned into a grunt. Jon twisted from the knife, just enough so it barely grazed his skin. He cut me. When he put his hand to the side of his neck, blood welled between his fingers. “Why?”

“For the Watch.” Wick slashed at him again. This time Jon caught his wrist and bent his arm back until he dropped the dagger. The gangling steward backed away, his hands upraised as if to say, Not me, it was not me. Men were screaming. Jon reached for Longclaw, but his fingers had grown stiff and clumsy. Somehow he could not seem to get the sword free of its scabbard.

Then Bowen Marsh stood there before him, tears running down his cheeks. “For the Watch.” He punched Jon in the belly. When he pulled his hand away, the dagger stayed where he had buried it.

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold…

A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

These two passages could mean that Sansa was, in some way, hearing or sensing Ghost: “the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, big as mountains”; as the direwolf was restless and anxious the day of Jon’s death: “Easy, Ghost,” Jon called. “Down. Sit, Ghost. Down.” Yet when he made to touch him, the wolf bristled and bared his teeth”. And at the end of his chapter, Jon himself “whispered” his direwolf name, while dying.

So, with Jon’s death and the previous death of Lady, Sansa’s direwolf, we have two Stark kids incomplete. Throughout the books we can read many times that the direwolfs are part of the Stark kids. Sansa lost his direwolf and then Ghost lost Jon. Its fair to say that after that, Sansa and Jon will be a great complement for each other lost part.

Back to the seventh Sansa’s chapter of A Storm of Swords, now we have the intervention of Lord Baelish, who returned to the Eyrie that morning and helped Sansa to built her snow castle:

Her bridges kept falling down. […] The third time one collapsed on her, she cursed aloud and sat back in helpless frustration.

“Pack the snow around a stick, Sansa.”

She did not know how long he had been watching her, or when he had returned from the Vale. “A stick?” she asked.

“That will give it strength enough to stand, I’d think,” Petyr said. “May I come into your castle, my lady?”

Sansa was wary. “Don’t break it. Be …”

“… gentle?” He smiled. “Winterfell has withstood fiercer enemies than me. It is Winterfell, is it not?”

“Yes,” Sansa admitted.

He walked along outside the walls. “I used to dream of it, in those years after Cat went north with Eddard Stark. In my dreams it was ever a dark place, and cold.”

“No. It was always warm, even when it snowed. Water from the hot springs is piped through the walls to warm them, and inside the glass gardens it was always like the hottest day of summer.”

A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

As we can see, Petyr has no love for Winterfell, because it reminds him that Ned Stark took Catelyn Tully away from him and went to Winterfelll with her. So, even if he says he is not a enemy of the seat of House Stark, probably he would have destroyed Winterfell with his own hands rather than help to rebuild it.

And, contrary to Jon, who thinks that Winterfell belongs to Sansa by right, Petyr talk about the great castle of the north as a gift for Sansa, a gift he will get for her through a marriage with Harry the Heir:

When Robert dies, Harry the Heir becomes Lord Harrold, Defender of the Vale and Lord of the Eyrie. Jon Arryn’s bannermen will never love me, nor our silly, shaking Robert, but they will love their Young Falcon… and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden’s cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back … why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright. So those are your gifts from me, my sweet Sansa… Harry, the Eyrie, and Winterfell. That’s worth another kiss now, don’t you think?“

A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

Again, Petyr is only a ‘pretender’, he will never be a true hero or a prince in Sansa’s story. Actually, I’m sure he plays the part of the monster or the savage giant. And he has no shame in express her true intentions, he asks Sansa to kiss him as a reward for his generous promise, just imagine what will he ask if he finally manages to give Winterfell to Sansa…

It is really sad that this beautiful passage of Sansa building a Winterfell of snow was interrupted by Petyr in a, to say the least, very disgusting way. I’m not talking about “his help” with the build of the castle, I’m talking about his forced kiss:

The Broken Tower was easier still. They made a tall tower together, kneeling side by side to roll it smooth, and when they’d raised it Sansa stuck her fingers through the top, grabbed a handful of snow, and flung it full in his face. Petyr yelped, as the snow slid down under his collar. “That was unchivalrously done, my lady.”

“As was bringing me here, when you swore to take me home.”

She wondered where this courage had come from, to speak to him so frankly. From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell.

His face grew serious. “Yes, I played you false in that … and in one other thing as well.”

Sansa’s stomach was aflutter. “What other thing?”

“I told you that nothing could please me more than to help you with your castle. I fear that was a lie as well. Something else would please me more.” He stepped closer. “This.

"Sansa tried to step back, but he pulled her into his arms and suddenly he was kissing her. Feebly, she tried to squirm, but only succeeded in pressing herself more tightly against him. His mouth was on hers, swallowing her words. He tasted of mint. For half a heartbeat she yielded to his kiss … before she turned her face away and wrenched free. "What are you doing?”

Petyr straightened his cloak. “Kissing a snow maid.”

“You’re supposed to kiss her.” Sansa glanced up at Lysa’s balcony, but it was empty now. “Your lady wife.”

“I do. Lysa has no cause for complaint.” He smiled. “I wish you could see yourself, my lady. You are so beautiful. You’re crusted over with snow like some little bear cub, but your face is flushed and you can scarcely breathe. How long have you been out here? You must be very cold. Let me warm you, Sansa. Take off those gloves, give me your hands.”

“I won’t.” He sounded almost like Marillion, the night he’d gotten so drunk at the wedding. Only this time Lothor Brune would not appear to save her; Ser Lothor was Petyr’s man. “You shouldn’t kiss me. I might have been your own daughter …”

“Might have been,” he admitted, with a rueful smile. “But you’re not, are you? You are Eddard Stark’s daughter, and Cat’s. But I think you might be even more beautiful than your mother was, when she was your age.”

“Petyr, please.” Her voice sounded so weak. “Please …”

— A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

In fact, it is horribly sad that, in a moment when Sansa realized that the memory of her home and the symbolic act of rebuilding it, make her stronger and courageous to face the truth and the reality: From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell”, she is attacked by a man who pretend to be her own father by kissing her in the mouth. And the fact that Petyr used the same words of another Sansa’s molester that attacked her not so long ago, just make the situation even worse. And it seems like Petyr would have continued with their actions if Robert would not have appeared.

(I felt the same when in Game of Thrones S5 Sansa said: “I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell. This is my home. And you can’t frighten me.” And immediately after that… Well, you all know what happened to her. I will always hate the show for that.)

But, when Sansa actually returns to Winterfell, I think the walls of their home will give her much more strength and courage than her snow castle built in the Eyrie, and she will be able not only to hit Petyr in the face with a handful of snow, but slay him and put his head atop of Winterfell’s walls, just as the prophecy of the Ghost of High Heart says: “I dreamt that maid again, slaying a savage giant in a castle built of snow”. And the fact that she already hit Petyr’s face with a “handful of snow”, makes me think about Jon Snow punching him in the face with his bare hands over and over and over again. That would be really sweet.

And talking about Jon Snow, noted the difference between Petyr’s forced kiss and Sansa embracing the snowflakes in her face with these lines: Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks. […] she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams. 

***

So yes, Jon Snow is the silent, unknown and unthought answer to Sansa’s hopes. And everytime I read about how Sansa and Jon have zero romantic connections in the books, I feel the need to revisit my long post, that you can read here

We all know about this conversation Ned has with Sansa:

“Sweet one,” her father said gently, “Listen to me. When you’re old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who’s worthy of you, someone brave and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me.”

But I wanted to post it because I love how it directly links to Jon:

They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. “I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, “Well, I’m Florian the Fool.”

anonymous asked:

When did you start shipping Jonsa?

Hey anon, only quite recently if I’m being honest. Originally, I was against the ship. Obviously they aren’t actually brother and sister but they were raised as siblings and so I didn’t like it. Then I watched season 6 and fell in love with the ship. There are obviously so many obstacles, but Kit and Sophie had absolutely amazing chemistry that the obstacles didn’t bother me anymore and now all I want is Jon to marry Sansa and them to have children named Eddard, Robb, Catelyn and Rickon. After watching season 6, I then re-read all the books, and although Jon and Sansa don’t actually interact, there are a lot of things in the books that I immediately went ‘Omg Jonsa’.

S6 was perfect for the two of them. Whether you are a Jonsa shipper or not, you have to say that the reunion was perfect. We’ve been waiting for a Stark reunion for years now, and so I thought, perhaps there’s a deeper meaning why it’s these two who reunite first. It was a beautiful scene that made me cry, but it was the following scene that made me get on board the Jonsa train. (Rest is under the cut because it’s a long one).

Keep reading

 Another work in progress I will finish one day…I really love drawing these two. I have lots of skeches. The original file is pretty huge..almost 20000x20000. I had to make it almost 10 times smaller so I could upload it here. I will probably add his helmet as well. He’ll have three dog heads like the Clegane sigil has 3 dogs. I also secretly link the armor to the Cerberus.

So we know Sansa is an unreliable narrator. And is’t not only about the unkiss.

‘I wish the Hound were here. The night of the battle, Sandor Clegane had come to her chambers to take her from the city, but Sansa had refused. Sometimes she lay awake at night, wondering if she’d been wise.’ 

But if we look at the actual scene we can see that she didn’t refuse him. He made his offer but never actually gave her a chance to reply. He mistook her closing her eyes and expecting a kiss to her being disgusted to look at him. (Oh, Sandor, you big fool! You know lots about swinging a sword…but you know nothing about womanly affairs.)

“I could keep you safe,” he rasped. “They’re all afraid of me. No one would hurt you again, or I’d kill them.” He yanked her closer, and for a moment she thought he meant to kiss her. He was too strong to fight. She closed her eyes, wanting it to be over, but nothing happened. “Still can’t bear to look, can you?” she heard him say. He gave her arm a hard wrench, pulling her around and shoving her down onto the bed. “I’ll have that song. Florian and Jonquil, you said.” His dagger was out, poised at her throat. “Sing, little bird. Sing for your little life.”

We also get this passage later:

‘She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak

She sounds a bit bitter because he left her. It’s almost clear she was expecting something more. So what does Sansa want? Him to not leave (’I wish the Hound were here’), a kiss (I think the kiss originated during those nights she spent off page thinking about what happened during the Blackwater scene) or did she expect him to steal her away like in some song?

He asked her to sing. Later he asks again and she offers to sing an unheard  Florian and Jonquil song to Sandor, he refuses and mocks the song, but asked for it at knifepoint during the Blackwater scene.

What was that unheard song about?

ACOK chapter 18:

‘’sing me a song, why don’t you? Go on. Sing to me. Some song about knights and fair maids. You like knights, don’t you?” 

‘’I never got my song.”
“I … I know a song about Florian and Jonquill.”
“Florian and Jonquill? A fool and his cunt. Spare me. But one day I’ll have a song from you, whether you will it or no.”
I will sing it for you gladly.
Sandor Clegane snorted. “Pretty thing, and such a bad liar’’

(So he wants a song, but not the one of Florian and Jonquill. What kind a song does he really want?)

ACOK chapter 62:

‘“I’ll have that song. Florian and Jonquill, you said.” His dagger was out, poised at her throat. “Sing, little bird. Sing for your little life.” 

(Of course she sung,,,but not what he asked for and she does not do it gladly, Instead she sings the Mother hymn.)

——————

During his time with Arya, Sandor  boasts to her about how Sansa gave him a song.

But as he is on his deathbed he admits Sansa din not give him a song…he took it.

‘I took the bloody song, she never gave it.’

He wanted her to give him a song willingly. 

———————

Sansa’s dream:

‘Only then he was bigger than Tyrion had any right to be, and when he climbed into the bed his face was scarred only on one side. “I’ll have a song from you,” he rasped.’

While Lysa was screaming while having teh sexy times with Petyr, Marillion tells Alayne he could make her sing louder than Lysa. So here it is. A double meaning to ‘song’ /‘to sing’.

Sansa and Sandor are both linked to songs. Maybe Sansa will sing him a song gladly one day.What kind of song? We’ll have to wait and see ;). 

We also get this little gem from Cersei:

‘Before I am done with her, I promise you, she will be singing to the Stranger, begging for his kiss.’

Here Sansa is linked again to ‘singing’. Stranger is also the name of Sandor’s horse, which is on the QI, but is still pretty wild and refuses to submit to the monks. The Gravedigger is also showing sings of not being tamed as he throws dirt towards Brienne. And also would you consider a man with his face hidden a stranger?‘Begging for his kiss’-if we look at how many times Sansa brings up the unkiss it is pretty clear that she wished that it happened…that’s why she creates this false memory.

————————

Parallels between Sandor/Gravedigger and the Stranger.

- The Stranger represents death and the unknown-> Sandor brought death upon others, even calls himself a butcher.  The Hound ‘died’.Arya is the only one who would know and expect him dead as she left him in the middle of nowhere while he was close to death. Sandor’s fate was unknown to many. His Helmet is worn by other people afterwards. To Sansa Sandor’s faith is still unknown.

-The Stranger leads the dead to the other world-> The Gravedigger is digging graves.

-The Stranger’s face has been described as half-human-> Sandor has a half-human face if you think about how half his face is a scar.  

-The Stranger is also described as being almost animal-like-> Sandor is called ‘the Hound’,’Dog’…he even calls himself ‘dog’. Also his helmet is made in the shape of a snarling dog. And he is a beast-like character. 

-The Stranger’s face is concealed beneath a hooded mantle-> The clothing customs of QI includes monks concealing their faces with scarves, hoods. Guess what the Gravedigger wears.

-Bonus:- Sandor finds an interesting name for his horse: Stranger.

            -People avoid praying to the Stranger ->people usually don’t want Sandor around. Think of the time when he was asked to leave that village, although he was helpful while he stayed there.

           -Outcasts identify themselves with the Stranger-> Sandor mocks religion, but he is an outcast. He did his best during his stay in the village, yet he was asked to leave. After papa Clegane died and Gregor inherited the keep, Sandor left. 

Gaming in Westeros - Cards

Earlier, @nobodysuspectsthebutterfly tagged me about a question regarding card games as asked by @hermdoggydog. So let’s put on our worldbuilding hats and see what we can come up with.

Card games have an appeal across classes, as they occupy a middle ground which is less cerebral with a lower difficulty curve than board games like chess and cyvasse, but are less fortune-based and more skill-based than dice games. And games form a key part of culture and stories, hence why the wandering gambler or the chess-playing strategist are both key tropes in storytelling.

When it comes to designing a game, the key things in a card game is information asymmetry. That’s why in a two player game, usually there is a deck or pool of cards that are undealt so as to not give the players perfect information. Other things to think of are how many players, who deals, the sequence of play, and how you win. One thing that’s important is to include gambling and drinking, as these were an integral part of the history of card games

Simple pub games would include variants of Old Maid, played with a full deck, one card removed, matching swords and clubs with cups and coins. The loser having to buy a round for the other players. You could see variants and names cropping up referencing bad rulers throughout history, a lone king of swords might be the sole unpaired card and that would be “drawing Maegor,” a lone queen of clubs might be “drawing Rhaenyra” whereas other regions might have a reference to an unpopular historical king as the odd man out. The Reach would probably have the 10 of cups as a reference to the weak Garth Graybeard, the Westerlands would call their game “Norwin’s Curse” and have the King of Coins as a satirical reference to Norwin Lannister, the joke being that the stingy King Norwin has to buy the rest of the players a round. Others include “Stranger’s Seven,” a variant of Crazy Eights where sevens become the wild card. Scoring variants of Stranger’s Seven would be as normal, and the pub variant would be that the winner gets a drink from the person with the most points. These games have the advantage of being incredibly easy to learn, thus players could leave and enter the game relatively quickly, and there would never be a shortage of people in the tavern to play.

More complex games might involve matching games similar to Rummy, with sequence melds called “families” and match melds called “books.” The idea would largely be to go out of cards. Melding all cards would be given a suitable term, “Queen Aly’s Luck” or “Brandon’s Blessing” just as examples. Just like in Rummy, doing so would add score to the other players, but be hard to do.

I could see cribbage variants being named after the various wars throughout history, especially with Blackfyre variants, with one player being ‘red’ or ‘Daeron’ and the other being ‘black’ or ‘Daemon.’ These games would have their variants suppressed shortly after the war, but they would still be played, or cited. 

Gambling games would probably be closer to poker rather than baccarat or blackjack, because those types of games require a house dealer and we don’t really see casinos. Those would be comparison type games, with infinitely complex variations and bluffing. I could see the game being highly-prized in Dorne for their culture of military deception, but good bluffers would also be highly-prized in the Stormlands where their low numbers mean that shows of strength are important against the populous Reach. This, of course, would lead to a popular and possibly apocryphal story about a Dornish and Stormlander gambler, bonding over their hand, both spectacular bluffers who both had the lowest possible hands, to inevitably end in either comedy, when a border dispute turns out to both be amazing bluffs, or tragedy when neither recognize each other on the battlefield after seven years because both finally outbluffed the other.

I could see even more complex games being played among the nobility, who have the time to learn opaque rules. Trick-taking games like contract bridge would probably be viewed under the context of a war, with partners being allied houses fighting for control of a disputed territory. For example, in the Riverlands, this game might be called “The Teats” while in other territories, it’s named after useful borderlands. In Dorne, for example, one team might be Salt and the other Stone (Sand would probably be avoided as that it is a bastard name) and the game called “The Wells.” I would imagine even a superstition around the game, if the first time two betrothed pairs play as partners and do well, their marriage would be considered particularly auspicious or lucky, conversely, if the two cannot play in sync, the marriage may be cursed with infighting.

I would definitely think regional cards would probably have the highest symbol be the lord of the land. Westeros might call their red fool card a “Florian” and their black fool a “Mushroom,” and I would imagine that both cards would be, much like the Joker in our own world, wild cards, as Florian was as mighty as any knight or king when it came to his beloved Jonquil. In Dorne, following Aegon’s Conquest, the Fools would be Toland’s mad fool, and the other being Aegon I himself. Before the Conquest, I’d imagine the highest suit would be stylized after the sigil of the ruling king, with artwork stylized after depictions of famous figures. After the Conquest, the dragons would become the new highet sigil, with new decks of cards symbolizing moments in history. For example, when Aemma Arryn and Viserys I Targaryen were wed, I’d imagine the Queen of Dragons would have falcon motifs and resemble her, even though she’s a dragon-suited card. Bloodraven would burn any deck of cards that had a depiction of Daemon, whether as a king of dragons (seditious) or a knight of dragons, and would encourage cards depicting Baelor Breakspear as the knight of dragons with Daeron as the King (and perhaps himself as Knave).

Given that not all decks were standardized until far later in our contemporary history, designing a single game would be impossible, but I can see variants of our own real-world games played throughout history.

Thanks for the shout, Butterfly, and I hope you like the answer, Dog.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

anonymous asked:

Could you explain the whole obsession with sansa and the hound? i don't get why that relationship is so romanticized at all...

Well, a romantic subtext is indeed present in the books when it comes to Sansa and the Hound. While in the show their relationship was never romanticized (maybe you’re a show watcher?) and the age difference between the two characters is too big, in the books the romanticization is undeniably there.

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