#arya viii

[an-artist-who-loves-got]

"How do you know about Jon?"

"He is my milk brother."

"Brother?" Arya did not understand. "But you're from Dorne. How could you and Jon be blood?"

"Milk brothers. Not blood. My lady mother had no milk when I was little, so Wylla had to nurse me."

Arya was lost. "Who's Wylla?"

"Jon Snow's mother. He never told you?"

(ASOS, Arya VIII)

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ASOS: Arya VIII (Chapter 43)

They had come all the way back to High Heart.

By sunset they were at the top, making camp where no harm could come to them. Arya walked around the circle of weirwood stumps with Lord Beric's squire Ned, and they stood on top of one watching the last light fade in the west. 

Alright, what is this? The walking around the stumps with a boy.

Around its brow stood a ring of huge pale stumps, all that remained of a circle of once-mighty weirwoods. Arya and Gendry walked around the hill to count them. - Arya IV, ASOS

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From up here she could see a storm raging to the north, but High Heart stood above the rain. It wasn't above the wind, though; the gusts were blowing so strongly that it felt like someone was behind her, yanking on her cloak. Only when she turned, no one was there.

BRAN?

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They built a great fire atop the hill, and Thoros of Myr sat crosslegged beside it, gazing deep into the flames as if there was nothing else in all the world.

"What is he doing?" Arya asked Ned.

"Sometimes he sees things in the flames," the squire told her. "The past. The future. Things happening far away."

Past? Since when can they see the past?

Great, that's all we need. Melisandre trying to interpret a vision from the past.

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"Fire consumes." Lord Beric stood behind them, and there was something in his voice that silenced Thoros at once. "It consumes, and when it is done there is nothing left. Nothing."

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The woman could not have been more than three feet tall. The firelight made her eyes gleam as red as the eyes of Jon's wolf. He was a ghost too.

Is the ghost of High Heart a child of the forest? I don't know, don't ask me.

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The king is dead, is that sour enough for you?"

Arya's heart caught in her throat.

"Which bloody king is dead, crone?" Lem demanded.

"The wet one. The kraken king, m'lords. I dreamt him dead and he died, and the iron squids now turn on one another. Oh, and Lord Hoster Tully's died too, but you know that, don't you? In the hall of kings, the goat sits alone and fevered as the great dog descends on him." The old woman took another long gulp of wine, squeezing the skin as she raised it to her lips.

Rip. Balon Greyjoy. Long live my new kraken king, Euron Greyjoy.

In the hall of kings, the goat sits alone and fevered as the great dog descends on him.

In the hall of kings (that would be King Bran's Harrenhal), Vargo Hoat will be abandoned, allowing Gregor Clegane to capture the castle, and brutally murder him.

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"I dreamt a wolf howling in the rain, but no one heard his grief," the dwarf woman was saying. "I dreamt such a clangor I thought my head might burst, drums and horns and pipes and screams, but the saddest sound was the little bells. I dreamt of a maid at a feast with purple serpents in her hair, venom dripping from their fangs. And later I dreamt that maid again, slaying a savage giant in a castle built of snow." 

"I dreamt a wolf howling in the rain, but no one heard his grief,"

Grey Wind at the Red Wedding.

Catelyn heard the crash of distant battle, and closer the wild howling of a wolf. Grey Wind, she remembered too late. - Catelyn VII, ASOS

I dreamt such a clangor I thought my head might burst, drums and horns and pipes and screams, but the saddest sound was the little bells.

Easy to go straight to Daenerys, but we're likely working in chronological order, so this is probably Catelyn and Jinglebell at the Red Wedding.

Robb had broken his word, but Catelyn kept hers. She tugged hard on Aegon's hair and sawed at his neck until the blade grated on bone. Blood ran hot over her fingers. His little bells were ringing, ringing, ringing, and the drum went boom doom boom. - Catelyn VII, ASOS

I dreamt of a maid at a feast with purple serpents in her hair, venom dripping from their fangs. And later I dreamt that maid again, slaying a savage giant in a castle built of snow.

We all know who that is! Rip. Joffrey Baratheon.

Biggest mystery is the giant, as Sansa is quite familiar with a few of them. Given this happens in Winterfell (her little castle built of snow), I think Littlefinger is the safe bet.

Also worth mentioning, the above seems to be suggesting Sansa will still be a maid when slaying the savage giant.

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She turned her head sharply and smiled through the gloom, right at Arya. "You cannot hide from me, child. Come closer, now."

Cold fingers walked down Arya's neck. 

Well, that's less than ideal.

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The dwarf woman studied her with dim red eyes. "I see you," she whispered. "I see you, wolf child. Blood child. I thought it was the lord who smelled of death . . ." She began to sob, her little body shaking. "You are cruel to come to my hill, cruel. I gorged on grief at Summerhall, I need none of yours. Begone from here, dark heart. Begone!"

Glowing review from the woman who sees everything. Blood child? Dark heart? Yeesh.

There's Summerhall getting attention in back-to-back chapters. Apologies to everyone, I can't force myself to care about Summerhall.

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"She will leave on the morrow, with us," Lord Beric assured the little woman. "We're taking her to Riverrun, to her mother."

"Nay," said the dwarf. "You're not. The black fish holds the rivers now. If it's the mother you want, seek her at the Twins. For there's to be a wedding." She cackled again. "Look in your fires, pink priest, and you will see. Not now, though, not here, you'll see nothing here. This place belongs to the old gods still . . . they linger here as I do, shrunken and feeble but not yet dead. Nor do they love the flames. For the oak recalls the acorn, the acorn dreams the oak, the stump lives in them both. And they remember when the First Men came with fire in their fists."

Those old gods don't love fire, eh? Lol.

Thoros isn't able to see visions when he's at High Heart, because it belongs to the old gods. That only makes me question why Melisandre feels so much stronger at the Wall. Yes it’s magic central, but still.

Everyone feel free to decode that acorn part for me.

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"You have a knife," Gendry suggested. "If your hair annoys you so much, shave your bloody head."

He doesn't like Ned. The squire seemed nice enough to Arya; maybe a little shy, but good-natured. She had always heard that Dornishmen were small and swarthy, with black hair and small black eyes, but Ned had big blue eyes, so dark that they looked almost purple. And his hair was a pale blond, more ash than honey.

Now we must ask ourselves why the Daynes look like Targaryens...

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"I never learned the lance, but I could beat you with a sword," said Arya. "Have you killed anyone?"

That seemed to startle him. "I'm only twelve."

I killed a boy when I was eight, Arya almost said, but she thought she'd better not. 

Sigh.

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"Were you at the tourney? I saw your sister there. Ser Loras Tyrell gave her a rose."

Rose! 🌹

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"My lady?" Ned said at last. "You have a baseborn brother . . . Jon Snow?"

"He's with the Night's Watch on the Wall." Maybe I should go to the Wall instead of Riverrun. Jon wouldn't care who I killed or whether I brushed my hair . . .

That's about the last thing you want to read if you're an Arya fan.

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"Milk brothers. Not blood. My lady mother had no milk when I was little, so Wylla had to nurse me."

Arya was lost. "Who's Wylla?"

"Jon Snow's mother. He never told you? She's served us for years and years. Since before I was born."

"Jon never knew his mother. Not even her name." Arya gave Ned a wary look. "You know her? Truly?" Is he making mock of me? "If you lie I'll punch your face."

"Wylla was my wet nurse," he repeated solemnly. "I swear it on the honor of my House."

Other than his appearance, the first thing we learn about Edric Dayne is that he's not a credible source of information.

Now watch as the fandom manages to forget that within the span of a few paragraphs.

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Ned looked wary. Maybe he was afraid that she was going to throw something at him. "Your lord father never spoke of her?" he said. "The Lady Ashara Dayne, of Starfall?"

"No. Did he know her?"

"Before Robert was king. She met your father and his brothers at Harrenhal, during the year of the false spring."

"Oh." Arya did not know what else to say. "Why did she jump in the sea, though?"

"Her heart was broken."

Notice what the author slipped in there.

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Sansa would have sighed and shed a tear for true love, but Arya just thought it was stupid. She couldn't say that to Ned, though, not about his own aunt. "Did someone break it?"

He hesitated. "Perhaps it's not my place . . ."

"Tell me."

He looked at her uncomfortably. "My aunt Allyria says Lady Ashara and your father fell in love at Harrenhal—"

I'm calling big bullshit on that one, little Ned.

Sansa 🥺

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"That's not so. He loved my lady mother."

"I'm sure he did, my lady, but—"

"She was the only one he loved."

"He must have found that bastard under a cabbage leaf, then," Gendry said behind them.

That's closer than anyone else has gotten!

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Gendry ignored that. "At least your father raised his bastard, not like mine. I don't even know my father's name. Some smelly drunk, I'd wager

Tee-hee.

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"Aye, he told me. Lady Ashara Dayne. It's an old tale, that one. I heard it once at Winterfell, when I was no older than you are now." He took hold of her bridle firmly and turned her horse around. "I doubt there's any truth to it. But if there is, what of it? When Ned met this Dornish lady, his brother Brandon was still alive, and it was him betrothed to Lady Catelyn, so there's no stain on your father's honor. There's nought like a tourney to make the blood run hot, so maybe some words were whispered in a tent of a night, who can say? Words or kisses, maybe more, but where's the harm in that? Spring had come, or so they thought, and neither one of them was pledged."

No harm, but I know Ned Stark enough that he wouldn't dare dishonour a highborn lady.

And then there's the other one.

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"No." He pointed. "Look at how thick the moss grows on the stones. No one's moved them for a long time. And there's a tree growing out of the wall there, see? This place was put to the torch a long time ago."

"Who did it, then?" asked Gendry.

"Hoster Tully." Notch was a stooped thin grey-haired man, born in these parts. "This was Lord Goodbrook's village. When Riverrun declared for Robert, Goodbrook stayed loyal to the king, so Lord Tully came down on him with fire and sword. After the Trident, Goodbrook's son made his peace with Robert and Lord Hoster, but that didn't help the dead none."

Help, I think the point of this story flew over my head.

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The red priest squatted down beside her. "My lady," he said, "the Lord granted me a view of Riverrun. An island in a sea of fire, it seemed. The flames were leaping lions with long crimson claws. And how they roared! A sea of Lannisters, my lady. Riverrun will soon come under attack."

Apparently Thoros is better at reading flames than Melisandre.

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Lord Beric paid no heed to her outburst. "My lady," he said with weary courtesy, "would you know your grandfather's brother by sight? Ser Brynden Tully, called the Blackfish? Would he know you, perchance?"

Arya shook her head miserably. She had heard her mother speak of Ser Brynden Blackfish, but if she had ever met him herself it had been when she was too little to remember.

"Small chance the Blackfish will pay good coin for a girl he doesn't know," said Tom.

[...]

His words beat at her ears like the pounding of a drum, and suddenly it was more than Arya could stand. She wanted Riverrun, not Acorn Hall; she wanted her mother and her brother Robb, not Lady Smallwood or some uncle she never knew. 

Hmmm.

That's more than enough for me to know Brynden and Arya will meet.

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

He cut down the first man as he turned toward the wolf, shoved past a second, slashed at a third. Through the madness he heard someone call his name, but whether it was Ygritte or the Magnar he could not say. - Jon V, ASOS

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A mailed hand closed hard around her arm.

"You're hurting me," she said, twisting in his grasp. "Let go, I was going to go back, I . . ."

"Back?" Sandor Clegane's laughter was iron scraping over stone. "Bugger that, wolf girl. You're mine." He needed only one hand to yank her off her feet and drag her kicking toward his waiting horse. The cold rain lashed them both and washed away her shouts, and all that Arya could think of was the question he had asked her. Do you know what dogs do to wolves?

Sandor Clegane, back again to kidnap a child. I'm so glad that rage has been gentled.

Final thoughts:

That's the last we'll see of Edric Dayne.

Or is it?

🎶 Dun, Dun, Duuun! 🎶

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[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ACOK: Arya VIII (Chapter 38)

Everywhere she went, Arya searched for Jaqen H'ghar, wanting to whisper another name to him before those she hated were all gone out of her reach, but amidst the chaos and confusion the Lorathi sellsword was not to be found. He still owed her two deaths, and she was worried she would never get them if he rode off to battle with the rest.

Sigh. Arya, they’re not your deaths.

"The Red God has his due, sweet girl, and only death may pay for life. This girl took three that were his. This girl must give three in their places. Speak the names, and a man will do the rest." - Arya VII, ACOK

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"Last night Hot Pie asked me if I heard you yell Winterfell back at the holdfast, when we were all fighting on the wall."                 

(...)

"It's what you yelled that matters. I told Hot Pie he should clean the wax out of his ears, that all you yelled was Go to hell! If he asks you, you better say the same."                 

"I will," she said, even though she thought go to hell was a stupid thing to yell. She didn't dare tell Hot Pie who she really was. Maybe I should say Hot Pie's name to Jaqen.

An important reminder that Arya is young, and should not determine who lives and dies.

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Yes, Arya thought. Yes, it's you who ought to run, you and Lord Tywin and the Mountain and Ser Addam and Ser Amory and stupid Ser Lyonel whoever he is, all of you better run or my brother will kill you, he's a Stark, he's more wolf than man, and so am I.    

Just like that, Arya is the first baby Starkling to submit to the wolf. Well, other than Rickon, who is likely gnawing on a bone right now.

We’ve covered this before, but it’s worth repeating: the older Starklings recognize they need to resist.

"I am not a wolf, no matter what they call me." Robb sounded cross. - Catelyn II, ASOS

x

The taste of hot blood filled Jon's mouth, and he knew that Ghost had killed that night. No, he thought. I am a man, not a wolf. He rubbed his mouth with the back of a gloved hand and spat. - Jon III, ADWD    

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"I have a message." Arya eyed the serving girl uncertainly. When she did not seem likely to go away, she leaned in until her mouth was almost touching his ear. "Weese," she whispered.    

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"Keep those eyes to yourself, or next time I'll spoon one out and feed it to my bitch."

"Weasel," Weese purred, "next time I see that mouth droop open, I'll pull out your tongue and feed it to my bitch." - Arya VII, ACOK

I don’t know you guys, I’m starting to think this dog might eat someone.

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"Weese," Arya whispered that night as she bent over the tear in her shift. "Dunsen, Polliver, Raff the Sweetling," she said, calling a name every time she pushed the bone needle through the undyed wool. "The Tickler and the Hound. Ser Gregor, Ser Amory, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, King Joffrey, Queen Cersei." She wondered how much longer she would have to include Weese in her prayer, and drifted off to sleep dreaming that on the morrow, when she woke, he'd be dead.

Humorous little moment, with Arya sewing as she prays for death.

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A shiver crept up Arya's spine as she watched them pass under the great iron portcullis of Harrenhal. Suddenly she knew that she had made a terrible mistake. I'm so stupid, she thought. Weese did not matter, no more than Chiswyck had. These were the men who mattered, the ones she ought to have killed. Last night she could have whispered any of them dead, if only she hadn't been so mad at Weese for hitting her and lying about the capon. Lord Tywin, why didn't I say Lord Tywin?    

I DON’T KNOW.

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A dozen people got there before her, though none was coming any too close. Arya squirmed between them. Weese was sprawled across the cobbles, his throat a red ruin, eyes gaping sightlessly up at a bank of grey cloud. His ugly spotted dog stood on his chest, lapping at the blood pulsing from his neck, and every so often ripping a mouthful of flesh out of the dead man's face.

Finally someone brought a crossbow and shot the spotted dog dead while she was worrying at one of Weese's ears.                 

"Damnedest thing," she heard a man say. "He had that bitch dog since she was a pup."

The dog ate!

The waif put the tears to one side and opened a fat stone jar. "This paste is spiced with basilisk blood. It will give cooked flesh a savory smell, but if eaten it produces violent madness, in beasts as well as men. A mouse will attack a lion after a taste of basilisk blood."

Arya chewed her lip. "Would it work on dogs?" - Cate of the Canals, AFFC

Should I be making a mental note of the fact that Arya has access to a paste that will make dogs eat humans? Please don’t, Arya. Please don’t.

I have to laugh. Imagine the one time Sansa actually did take Arya’s storyline, it ends up being that horrifying moment.

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"It's Harren's ghost, that's what it is," said Goodwife Amabel. "I'll not sleep here another night, I swear it."                 

Arya lifted her gaze from the dead man and his dead dog. Jaqen H'ghar was leaning up against the side of the Wailing Tower. When he saw her looking, he lifted a hand to his face and laid two fingers casually against his cheek.

A new uncomfortable trend that’s emerging, where ghosts and vengeance are being followed by Catelyn.

I have to believe we’ll be seeing lots of Arya -> Catelyn chapter transitions moving forward. Not good, fam.

Final thoughts:

@agentrouka-blog​ mentioned that she likes that Arya’s three names don’t influence the political landscape of Westeros, because that’s not Arya’s story. Love that outlook.

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