The Culled Pup @avtvmngrass - Tumblr Blog

cont. from HERE because how could I not... @scarredhound

“Yes, and the only one in the world who’d thank you for it is me,” she snaps, sitting herself down beside her brother despite his insistence. Their elder brother may be the worst of the worst, but he remains a knight, and favored by both their liege lord and the crown. “They’d take your head, or worse, send you off to the Rock.”

Not that Casterly Rock was a bad place, but she had a dreadful feeling that without Gregor, Lord Tywin would have need to replace his favored attack dog. She did not want that for Sandor. Fretting, Elinor pressed a waterskin into her brother’s lap, making to fidget with the needle and thread she’d retrieved. It had been terrifying to see him cross blades with Gregor, and while she more than trusted in Sandor’s skill, there had been too many blows aimed to his head- too many that could have been-

Elinor clasped her hands tightly in her lap, mouth set in a fine line. She had screamed, distracted him, he could have died. And then what? How many Cleganes did Gregor need to slaughter? “I know you don’t need help.”

#v: careful navigation [adulthood]#scarredhound #MMMMM CLEGANE SIBLINGS CLEGANE SIBLINGS!!!

seabois

#;;perfecting the art of unimportance

agirlofwinterfell‌:

“I’ve heard of a lady knight somewhere in the South, but I’ve yet to meet her. I’m told Oberyn Martells daughters are adept at weaponry.” Beyond that, Arya had no answer to Lady Elinor for women adept at swordplay. “Would you like to learn? There are none better than those from Essos, I’ve learnt.” Arya could do it herself, or perhaps find someone if she did not have the time.

Braavosi, that was the best kind of swordsmanship she had ever witnessed, that played to her size, speed, and skinny little blade. “Aren’t. Perceptive,” Usually it’s a question of whether she can’t or won’t, but Lady Elinor was smart. Most women were, and Arya had no doubts about her. However, the story was right there for anyone who looked close enough, who knew enough.

“That explains why you speak a little like the queen,” The queen, as if Cersei was still the queen. “The cold isn’t for everyone. If you like I’m sure we can find you some warmer gowns, or cloaks. I’m sure my mother never grew used to it either,” Her mother hadn’t been as tall as Lady Elinor, or so broad though, but a few adjustments and all would be well - Jeyne might like to do it herself, find something to busy her hands. She liked to keep her hands busy, Arya had noticed. Her brows creased then, “I never did ask anyone. When did you arrive here? I do hope all your needs were seen to appropriately.”

“I’m quite well taken care of, I assure you,” Elinor patted the front of her gown. She’d done her best to add more layers and pad her wardrobe- such as it was. Her two warmest gowns and a dozen pairs of hosiery left little in the way of choice. But her toes were warm, and her cloak fur-lined. It would simply be something she HAD to get used to. “But I thank you for the offer. From what I’ve heard of her, your mother took the cold and made it her own... I do hope I don’t sound too much like dear Cersei...”

It had been years and years since she last was one of the Queen’s ladies, but memories remain. “You learn skills like that in court, especially in a Lannister court. Being aware can keep you with your head,” a tricky business, in this day and age. “I arrived some time ago, actually. I had heard that my- well a variety of things. But Lord Tywin’s death marked for some changes at Casterly Rock. I took the opportunity and came this way while I could.”

That, certainly. But word of the Hound’s death had reached her as well. She’d been struck by such a strange, strangling feeling, and had needed to leave. Reaching Lannisport and booking passage north by sea had been relatively simple. Understanding why she had wanted so badly to get far, far away, was harder. “A lady knight, I’d never heard such a thing... I don’t know that I would be any use at swordplay. But I have picked up a bow from time to time, I think I would greatly enjoy expanding that to something beyond a flimsy target in the courtyard.”

#v: run and run fast [gone north]#agirlofwinterfell

cinemaspam

Carnival of Souls (1962) dir. Herk Harvey

#;;perfecting the art of unimportance

avtvmngrass

sum tidbits

Elinor is 2 years older than Sandor and 3 years younger than Gregor.

As of 300 AC she is about 32 years old.

Has inherited the Clegane stature- a couple inches over 6 feet tall and broad shouldered.

Was sent away to be of service to the Lannisters at Casterly Rock when she was about 7 or 8. She essentially became a personal assistant to older and higher born women of the Lannister family. Briefly served as lady-in-waiting to Cersei before she went to King’s Landing.

Is not a maiden, and has never married or been engaged.

Has kept tabs on both her brothers’ reputations.

Mother and Father Clegane impressed upon her the importance of being unseen and unheard. Specifically, her mother urged her to ‘disappear’. Difficult to do for a busty six foot tall woman, but she lives her life under that guidance. She tries not to introduce herself.

This blog will involve, at times, triggering topics related to childhood sexual abuse. Gregor Clegane is his own warning. This is in my rules but new followers=giving a heads up. I don’t expect it to come up often, but if/when it does, it will be appropriately tagged.

#for new followers #ad now for food #;;ooc

avtvmngrass

Elinor can’t fight and she survives among nobility so her main method of combat is that thing southern women do when they say ‘oh bless your heart’.

#im going through this blog and god #GOD #i missed her wtf #;;ooc

kardashianjennergifs

#this was one of two things left in my drafts LOL #;;perfecting the art of unimportance #;;aes

dead characters who get mentioned one(1) time: me:

#;;ooc #honhonhon

agirlofwinterfell‌:

“No,” Arya’s answer is as assured as she has ever been about herself. She doesn’t want to think of comments about blacksmiths hands, or longing to have the choice to do as her brothers did. A raging jealousy that Bran had options that she didn’t when he was younger. A raging jealousy that she could not be just like Sansa. It’s good to be back in the cold again, and now she looks after Jeyne, because Jeyne is her pack now.

“I was taught by a boob swordsman… and then No One.” She does not mention the Hound to this woman, eyes still raking over her and seeing such familiarity that she feels as if she is around him again.

“I had to hide lots of things on the road, Needle was the least of them.” She’s sure she hears Jeyne moving about nearby, her footsteps always so tentative and unsure and yet Arya always keeps her ear out for them. “You’re Southern? Kings Landing?”

“It’s very impressive. I’ve never known a woman adept at swordplay before. I know a bit of archery, but...” Elinor shrugged lightly. It was evident she had never picked up live steel. She did have vague, distant memories of playing in the fields with her little brother. Sticks as swords and braided strands of wheat for favors. But nothing like what she’s just witnessed being displayed, not at all. Even the finery and knightly spectacles from the Crownlands looked clunky and pathetic in comparison.

“Boob? Braavosi? I have heard a little about their skill, but No One...” she presses her fingertips together in front of her, smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Elinor likes the sound of it. “That sounds like you’ve a story you aren’t going to tell.”

As for her... “The Westerlands, by birth. But yes, I spent much of my life as attendant at Casterly Rock, but I have been to King’s Landing many a time,” she knew a bit about hiding things. “The cold most assuredly explains how hardy your northmen are, Lady Stark. I cannot say I have grown any more used to it since I arrived here.”

#v: run and run fast [gone north]#agirlofwinterfell #yEE