A/N: to Guest:The story is a stepping stone to Jon's story.
The issue with the mainstream portrayal of any female character is that nowadays she can only be two things: an angel or the devil incarnate. That is not to say that a female cannot genuinely be good or evil – far from it. The argument is that, and yes this does depend a lot on the manner of your story, characters tend to grow more complex and life-like (despite that we may not agree with their decisions) and to reduce them to such a threadbare dichotomy as simply-good/simply-evil does not serve the writer very well if there is a nuanced message to get across. That said, Elia Martell does not escape this particular snare like most other ASOIAF female characters. So let us look at Elia and what we know of her leaving aside her death. Why? Unfortunate and brutal as it was, it was not of Elia's doing and therefore does not tell us much about her character or actions.
I would like to begin with the description given to her by Ser Barristan Selmy: "(Daenerys:) ... that was the tourney when he crowned Lyanna Stark as queen of love and beauty! Princess Elia was there, his wife, and yet my brother gave the crown to the Stark girl, and later stole her away from her betrothed. How could he do that? Did the Dornish woman treat him so ill?
(Barristan:) It is not for such as me to say what might have been in your brother's heart, Your Grace. The Princess Elia was a good and gracious lady, though her health was ever delicate." (ASOS, Ch. 42)
It is provided to Dany in one of their conversations. Now, I will not contest that within social situations, Elia could prove herself a pleasant companion to her betters. By this I mean that she exhibited amount of respect and propriety when in the presence of nobles of higher rank and large crowds. The image of any nobleman is influenced by his appearance and the way he is perceived. An intelligent person will use it to their advantage. And I by no means consider Elia foolish. In fact, I think she was very smart and within the context of her existence as wife of the Crown Prince that is a definite plus. Naturally, she would be less liable of making Cersei-like mistakes; that is, without any sort of tact dismissing the lower orders to their faces. This would of course account for the gentle wit and cleverness. The kindness aspect would be best covered by her relationship with Rhaenys and Aegon to my mind. Elia loved her children, there is no denying that. I believe she was a devoted mother, which is admirable and admired at the same time. Selmy is trying to blame no one here. And that is a good thing. In the absence of hard, fact-based evidence, it's a very good thing. It's a simple mechanism, in the absence of knowledge, humans pick up the closest approximate. All this put together constructs Selmy's image of Elia.
And here is where the problems start for me. Let's take a look at the context in which Barristan addresses the problem of Elia. He is speaking to Dany, a woman he means to serve, therefore he needs tact so as to gain her approval and moreover the fulfillment of an emotional bond. I am not saying he is going this purposefully, that it is a ploy, but what I am saying is that the very nature of his situation at the time of this(/ese) assertion(s) would tip the balance towards a favourable outlook. He does the very same in presenting Rhaegar, if you recall.
Secondly, Barristan is a member of the Kingsguard. What we do know is that Rhaegar and Elia resided on Dragonstone with the natural visits to King's Landing to present their children at court. As a member of the Kingsguard, Selmy is tied to Aerys first and foremost. It stands to reason that he would spend time where the King is. And the King resides in King's Landing. I have yet to hear any mention of Dragonstone. Therefore, one must wonder as to the validity of Selmy's claims. Elia would be observable to him in social situations in the company of those who are higher on the social ladder and her own close family. Put these two together and you may understand why "words" little warm me.
Then one must look at her travels within the kingdoms. Oberyn is notable for having influence over Elia during these happenings. It will be later revealed that the two of them spend their travels mocking Elia's suitors. "Elia found it all exciting. She was of that age, and her delicate health had never permitted her much travel. I preferred to amuse myself by mocking my sister's suitors. There was Little Lord Lazyeye, Squire Squishlips, one I named the Whale That Walks, that sort of thing. The only one who was even halfway presentable was young Baelor Hightower. A pretty lad, and my sister was half in love with him until he had the misfortune to fart once in our presence. I promptly named him Baelor Breakwind, and after that Elia couldn't look at him without laughing." (ASOS, Ch. 70). And now you might say that it was only Oberyn who did the mocking. Yes, he was the one with the "cutting wit", but she seemed to attempt to temper him. Whether that has to do with an insensitivity when it comes to those of lower rank (her suitors being mere lords or sers) or with ill-intent I have no way of being 100% certain, but I would hesitate to argue it does have to do with the latter.
The fact remains however that the two of them mocked people for things they could not help: a lazy eye, a deformity of some sort, a limp perhaps. These are all things that could have been the result of nature's cruelty or that of battle. If it is the first I can only say bravo, that's wonderful. This is the sort of behavior that tends to cast a shadow of doubt over the description Barristan gives. If it is the latter, a war wound or some accident even, I find it remarkably uncharitable of Elia to be laughing at the injured. If these are the acts and actions of a kind, good-natured person is debatable. I simply choose to think that a decent human being would be capable of empathizing, whether they be a teenager or an adult. It does not take the moral constitution of a wise man or a saint to know that empathy is a key factor to giving respect.
Respect shapes kindness further on. How kind is one really to people one does not respect? There has to be a moral component there. And it begins from respect born through empathy. Or to have Elia gaining amusement through what construes the suffering of others show, to me at least, a lack of respect and empathy. Therefore for all the kindness she shows her children, for all that motherly love, we have the reverse. Take it this way. A says that that B loves animals. But when C is walking with B on the street and they see a three-legged dog, B laughs at the creature. What does that say about B? What is the implication for A?
Jokes are funny. Purposefully humiliating others is not a joke, however, it's an act of cruelty and I refuse to treat it as anything else regardless of age. It makes no matter to me that Elia was fifteen or sixteen. Kindness, while influenced by age and understanding, cannot be attributed solely to it. And even if it were so, one would think that by her age she would have garnered enough empathy to see for herself the effects her actions encourage – especially given that she herself was not the halest of all.
And then there is the Baelor episode. I will quote Oberyn again: "The only one who was even halfway presentable was young Baelor Hightower. A pretty lad, and my sister was half in love with him until he had the misfortune to fart once in our presence. I promptly named him Baelor Breakwind, and after that Elia couldn't look at him without laughing." (ASOS, Ch. 70).
I would say that the first three times of laughing are acceptable. A situation can be so amusing as to warrant it. But to be laughing at a person for a prolonged amount of time, despite knowing the faux pas to be a mistake, is something which I find to be a punishment of sorts. And Oberyn specifically says she continued to do so. In only considering Elia, one dismisses Baelor. This is a case of cruelty, unwarranted and undeserved, on the simple basis of a mistake and directed towards Baelor who is arguably a good man, whom she even takes a liking to apparently. That she is able to so easily dismiss him, that she would allow one single jest to ruin a man in her eyes for what is effectively forever, I find concerning. It begs the question of the validity of her judgment when concerning those who are not her close family.
Again, you might blame her age and say it is acceptable. There is a difference between a joke (which would have been a temporary release of amusement) and devaluing a person, man or woman, on what are puerile grounds, let's be clear. A joke implies that the subject can laugh along. But this is not Elia laughing with Baelor, it's Elia laughing at Baelor. So no, I don't find Elia to be kind and good and gentle in this instance. At best I find her irresponsible and at worst contemptible in that she would allow for such flightiness. I would argue that what she felt was probably attracted and nothing more. When you love someone, the thought process is different. I don't actually expect that she might have made Oberyn stop. But if she had tried, wouldn't have Oberyn made mention of such a reaction? It would have certainly worked to put his sister in a batter light.
Elis is a princess. With this rank come a set of privileges. She is listened to and obeyed, one must take care not to offend her or otherwise cause friction where she is involved. One might argue that such a position does not allow for much criticism, thus some form of entitlement could be born out of this, even a belief that she is deserving of admiration from all others whatever her actions. Or that is simply not how the world works. Good manners require that we act in a polite fashion to those around us, regardless of our own personal belief as to how and who they are.
By her own actions, Elia shows she has little respect for others. Others that are in lesser positions might I add and would, with or without intention, be callous to them. Just because someone's intention is not to harm, it does not mean that harm is avoided. Now I know that offence is taken and not given. We choose to be offended over something and we choose to take action against certain behaviours. And this is my choice. I choose to speak loud and clear against any demand for blind respect and admiration from others when she gives none to those around her unless they are her family or people of superior rank.
I do not care about her background, her age, her inclinations. Facts speak for themselves. To put this into perspective. When Lyanna saw Reed being beaten up, her reaction was not to point and laugh. It was to pick up a weapon and charge at his assailants.
I will proceed in the next part with the Casterly Rock-incident.
During his own story, Oberyn says the following: "... and you (Tyrion) yourself were the greatest disappointment of all." (…) "You were small, but far-famed. We were in Oldtown at your birth, and all the city talked of was the monster that had been born to the King's Hand, and what such an omen might foretell for the realm." (ASOS, Ch. 38).
The implication behind this is clear. But for the sake of argument, let's look at it. You have two young people who have heard a certain amount of stories regarding the misfortunes of the Lannisters. They are curious. Certainly, an acceptable reaction. But when they arrive at the Rock they are disappointed. It is true that Elia cooed at Tyrion afterwards, however one must point out that the following "Perhaps your head was larger than most... but there was no tail, no beard, neither teeth nor claws (…). After all the wonderful whispers, Lord Tywin's Doom turned out to be just a (…) red infant with stunted legs." (ASOS, Ch. 38) is what he looked like. One may note that Elia did nothing other than coo at what looked to be an arguably normal baby with perhaps a slightly bigger cranium. I'm sorry, that is just maternal instinct at play, it's a natural reaction. You will see it in animals as well. Therefore, to claim it a sign of kindness is dishonest on those grounds at least. Even more so given that she did not nurture him in any way. Elia did not hold him, she did not attempt to stop Cersei from harming him, she was just watching a curiosity. If that is kindness, then I do not want to know what its opposite is.
One will perhaps point out that Cersei treats Tyrion much more poorly. It is true. I do not contest it. But Cersei is a child going through trauma. She has just lost her mother and Joanna died giving birth. Her blaming the death of her mother on Tyrion is perfectly explainable when one looks at Tywin's reaction. Children copy adults they admire. So while Cersei may find some legitimacy to her distaste and wish to make a spectacle of her little brother, to have two perfect strangers do the same is again unwarranted and a show of cruelty.
In the end to me it does not matter what "descriptions" a character gets. Their behaviour defines them within the context of their circumstances.
Moving to the Elia and Rhaegar's marriage. There seems to be this assumption that she listened to him and did all things good and right, but it is often brushed aside that to listen is not necessarily to understand. She was his wife, all options were closed to her in this instance but a monster argument or obedience. And since according to most medieval laws in case of a separation children remain with the father, (I believe it plausible to assume Westeros operated on like terms with making the father responsible if he is known) she should accept her "fate", so to speak, even more in the context that they had children and as a loving mother she would have wanted to stay with them.
So that begs the following question: how did she act within her marriage? The answer can be but complex. Jon Connington, for example, would devalue Elia on the basis of the fact that she could not have more children after Aegon, Cersei demeans her for her looks and Barristan argues along with Oberyn that she was kind. But no one actually tells us how she acted within her marriage, likely because, as a matter of privacy and physical distance, it is not entirely possible to report such matters. The only one who does speak of it is Viserys – and he seems to think that Rhaegar was unhappy in his marriage (ASOS, Ch. 42).
Let's look at this a bit, shall we? What reason would Viserys, a child at the time, have to notice unhappiness within a married couple? Perhaps he would have had the necessary experience (his own parents' crumbling relationship arguably one to be called unhappy) and the skills necessary to distinguish this displeasure, however why the lack of remorse if Elia was so kind and gentle? Now presumably when Elia came to King's Landing with her two children, Viserys being there as well would have had the chance to spend time with her – or at the very least some time. Of course one might argue Viserys is so lost he cannot possibly remember kindness, but that he essentially lost himself when he sold his mother's crown would suggest otherwise. Rhaella is arguably the one who showed most kindness to Viserys. If one admits he loved her to the point where her death is not seen with nonchalance, and if then we should equate Rhaella and Elia in the realm of behaviour, why should be expect a difference of reaction. And the difference is there. The blame is simply shifted from Elia to Daenerys without any seeming sympathy for the former's plight. Therefore, what could explain Viserys' dispassionate response? Perhaps he did not take to Elia. And if he did not one has to wonder why. We actually do not know that he was locked away, so we may assume they did see one another and interacted. Presuming they did not spend more than a little while together (baring the possibility of Rhaenys and Viserys enjoying play-dates), the question is what did he see in such a short time span to put him off? Maybe he saw whatever the truth is; the one we do not know yet.
So maybe not all was well there.
Is that to say I blame Elia specifically for her situation? No, most certainly not. I think she is lacking in the morality department, I could certainly wish for better of her, but she is mot to be blamed.
As for Cersei, she is already a caricature.
Mace Tyrell's florid face was the centre of attention. Ashara leaned further in her seat, her elbow knocking into Lyanna's. "He looks like a lobster," she noted. "Lobsters are simply delicious." Caught somewhere between amusement and worry, Lyanna gave a short nod to her good-sister but noticed the exact moment in which Ashara's face fell as it registered to her that the lord was not come with good news. Delicious lobsters were likely the very last thing that was going to be gossiped about within the new few hours.
"You," he called out, pointing the Dornish Prince out from the crowd with a sort of savage gesture that left little doubt as to the beginning of a quarrel brewing. "You think that being the King's good-brother gives you leave to do as you will!"
The day kept growing more interesting by the minute. Affairs. Intrigue. Scandal. Lyanna could hardly wait to see what would happen by suppertime. They should no doubt have the Mad king himself rise from the ashes and return to claim the throne.
"What in the seven hells?" Rosby muttered, hand travelling to his empty scabbard only to find nothing there. "My lady, might be it would be advisable to seek refuge elsewhere."
"What is the meaning of this, Lord Tyrell?" the Queen snapped from her seat, no doubt channelling her earlier anger towards the intruder. Lyanna looked from one to the other, fully expecting that they would be once again privy to some grotesque confession. "You forget yourself."
One of the Kingsguards was already climbing down the stairs to remove him from within their midst. But Mace Tyrell was incensed enough to create quite the ruckus. Lyanna did not catch much besides something about a saddle having been cut and one of the Prince's squires being found nearby. What it came down to was that the man was making a grave accusation. One which would not ring false for many, given the Dornishman's past exploits.
Although, it would be very strange for him to have turned from poison to the crass and graceless cutting of saddles. Indeed, it would be something to be marvelled at. Lyanna stood to her feet as Gylem did the same. "Ser, if it is not too much to ask, I would like to take my good-sister back to her bedchamber." IT looked like it might devolve into a brawl. Regretful as she was at not being able to witness such a procession, Ned would have her hide tanned.
Ashara, quite perceptive in her own right, took the moment to grab onto her plate and clutch it to her chest. "Might be we should take the shortest road." She pointed out the mirroring columns. They were unlikely to be stopped. Most of the onlookers were much too busy to pay them any mind.
Not that Lyanna protested the convenience of such. She pulled both of them nearer towards the wall and began the long trek to the pillars. It occurred to her that someone ought to have taken the time to calm the spirits and reach some explanation for it all. It would have been the perfect moment to have her father along, or even Benjen.
"Would he do something like that?" she asked Ashara in the end as they came into the hallway, leaving behind the irate Lord Tyrell and his opponents.
"I confess I find it hard to believe. His Grace is many things and I do believe that had he wished to he might have challenged young Willas Tyrell to battle. Yet the very though that he might in such a manner try to rid himself of the boy is too much." She emptied her plate upon the ground and threw it away as well. "He was not angered at the crown."
The delicious crown Ashara had managed to make a meal of. "I thought so as well. At worst he seemed annoyed." They shared a look. "You don't think–"
"And why not. There would be those who would gain from such a move." Her questioning gaze lingered upon her. She might have taken offence had she not witnessed the earlier spectacle from her own bedchamber. So Lyanna simply shook her head in reply.
"Might be they have the wrong of it. Squires have duties to attend to. Just because he happened to be nearby does not mean the Prince was in any way responsible." Nor did it mean that it had not been planned. "I do believe on this one we shall have to ait for further news.
"I shall ask it of Arthur that he keep us informed," Ashara decided out loud. She took Lyanna by the arm. "This is proving to be a most memorable day." Her earlier thoughts echoed, Lyanna could not help but smile.
They proceeded to their own chambers. Lyanan would have joined Ashara had she asked, but the woman claimed she would sleep some more. Not feeling the need to lie abed, she decided that instead she would see to Jon.
With that in mind, she had Betha bring her son over, wondering if he might enjoy a tale. She had somehow managed to bring back a book from the library during her last incursion within the chamber. Needless to say, she'd not even looked within it.
"Mother," Jon cried out as soon as he'd entered, throwing himself in her arms. Lyanna picked him up and spun the both of them around. He clung to her with surprising force, a telltale sign that aught was amiss. So she stopped and dismissed Betha with a nod of the head, seating herself upon the edge of the bed.
"What is it, my love?" she questioned, holding him to her chest. It occurred to her that her attention as a mother had been somewhat lacking. Caught up in other matters she had failed to see to the most important of them. "You can tell mother." He kept his silence though, hiding his face away. "Jon, was it a night terror?"
The child nodded, dark curls bobbing gently. "Now what could have scared my brave son so?" she questioned, prying him away gently so she could look into his eyes. "Come, we shall speak of it, you and I, and find a manner in which to dismiss such illusions."
Jon's lower lips trembled for a few moments. He shook his head and tugged on the neckline of his garment. "It felt real, lady mother." At those words, Lyanna gazed upon the spot he indicated and to her horror saw thin, mottled lines adorning the child's skin.
"How can that be?" she demanded, hastily making to pull on the fastenings so as to help him out of the restricting material and get a better look at those bruises. It was not that Jon had not come to her with bruises before. Being much used to running wild with Renly, he had had his share of scarped knees. But to have such skins of being throttled marring his flesh was another matter altogether. "Who did this to you?"
The question lingered between them as she touched the topmost line with great care. Nay suspicion regarding Betha was early dismissed for the length and width of the imprints were similar to the fingers of a child. And why should any child attempt to harm her son?
"He looked like me, mother. It was as if I were gazing into a looking glass." A shudder travelled down her spine at his admission. "I thought he might kill me in truth."
She'd not heard of anything of the like before. And the gods knew enough strange happenings had reached her throughout her lifetime. But dreams were supposed to be illusions and illusions did not have the power to harm.
There was only one other whom she could think to ask in such circumstances. "Do not worry, my son." Lyanna had said it more to herself than to him, for just as soon she was standing to her feet and walking towards the door.
Without hesitation she opened it and stepped into the hallway, travelling to the bedchamber in which she knew she'd find Winstead and his bride. Knocking upon the wooden frame, it occure4d to her that she ought to have known, she ought to have asked her son much sooner about these night terrors and not assume they would pass all by themselves.
The door opened to reveal to her the young squire. "Lady Baratheon, may I be of aid?"
"Would that you could. But I am here for Rosalynd." Her cousin was already sitting up, walking towards the two of them. "I must ask that you aid me in something." Rosalynd stepped past Winstead and into the hallway as well. "I shan't keep her long."
He could but nod at that and returns to whatever it was he'd been doing before she had disturbed them. Lyanna was content to wait for the door to close, remaining alone with Branda's daughter. As soon as that had happened, Lyanna took the girl by the arm and whispered so that the words mightn't carry. "There is aught amiss with my son and I fear I must ask for your superior knowledge on the matter."
"Why fear, cousin mine?" Rosalynd asked in turn, her soft eyes filling to the brim with worry. "Is he unwell?"
Lyanna shook her head. "Come along and I shall tell you all. But we must make haste." The girl agreed without another question, striding forth alongside Lyanna, to the chamber in which she's left Jon.
Her son awaited her arrival, still seated upon the bed. He gazed at Rosalynd with curious eyes. Though they had been introduced to one another, they'd not spent much time in each other's company. As such, the novelty of her visit had his attention.
"Tell cousin Rosalynd of what has happened. I am persuaded she knows more about dreams than I." She sat down upon a spare chair, allowing Rosalynd the bed. Still weak, the girl was most often seated or lying down. It was a strange illness, Lyanna supposed, and no maester knew the cure. But even so, the child should make an effort to be up and about. She was now a wife and if the gods be willing, becoming a mother would be her ultimate fate. If she kept abed all day long, how would she grow strong enough to carry? As it was her frame was too thin. But those thoughts were out of place. Lyanna pushed them away with determination and gave all of her attention to the ongoing conversation unfolding before her eyes after the young woman had inspected her son's mottled skin.
"Be so kind, Jon, and begin with the first dream you can remember. We shall yet find out the source of this." And so it was that Lyanna found a trove which she'd never even considered. The knowledge was a slap in the face the likes of which she'd yet to receive from any man or woman in her lifetime. Her dear son, her poor babe was plagued by aught worse than any night terror imaginable.
And there was nothing she could do to protect him.
"And this man," Rosalynd continued, "he claimed to be protecting you. Can you recall any specific detail, something which might aid us in finding him?" She was incredibly calm about the whole matter while Lyanna stood to tear her hair out.
Her son's brow furrowed. He sucked his lower lip inward and gazed at the ground. "Upon his face," her son began, pointing to his own cheek, "there is a blemish. Red like blood." His pointer rested against the side of his face. "One of his eyes is gone."
It was her turn to suck her lower lip in. Only Lyanna did so out of disbelief. What Jon was describing was not just any man. He could not be some Wildling seer or a demon from the otherworld. "Did he give you a name?" she interrupted Jon's description of the garb the man wore.
"Bloodraven. Like the Fourth Aegon's bastard son." It was not possible. What her son was saying could not happen. Bloodraven had died; he gone scouting beyond the Wall, or so the legend went. And he could not have survived all those years. No man lived that long. Not even Walder Frey. And the gods only knew when he'd been spawned upon his poor lady mother. A truly frightening thought, Lyanna considered. "He said to call him Bloodraven."
"And I say that you shan't speak to him again," she put her foot down. She knew not what manner of sorcery had been visited upon her son, nor did she care to find out. "It is much too dangerous." Something out of the realm of matters she could control in any manner.
"Nay, cousin, do not," Rosalynd cut in. "Lord Brynden Rivers was the son of a Blackwood. Who is to say the old blood did not burn strong in his veins." A thousand eyes and one, Lyanna thought bitterly. Half a Blackwood he might be for all she cared, but she would sooner trust a poisonous snake than have him anywhere near her child. He'd not been forced into the service of the Black Brothers for no reason. "And if the Bloodraven speaks, my lady, we should listen."
Lyanna grimaced at the girl. "Listen? My son is imagining a grand adventure and pushing all manners of long gone faces into it." There was no other explanation. Jon didn't know any better.
"And the marking, cousin. Are those part of the grand adventure?" Rosalynd's iron shone through. "This is no more a tale of make belief than I am a strapping knight. Does it not fall to the parent to protect the child?"
And not dismiss said child's fears. Lyanna read between those lines with clarity. Enough of it for her face to lose its colour. Did she truly wish to believe of her son that he would wantonly lie, even if he would be doing it for a lark? Of course not. Jon had yet to do so to her.
If he claimed that the Unworthy's bastard plagues his dreams, then there had to be aught there. "Why would such a man, if he has the power you claim he does, make use of my son? What does Jon have to do with Targaryens and those creatures eating human flesh and the gods know what else?"
"That is to me as it is to you, a mystery," her cousin allowed. "But there is a good reason for it and I trust it shall be revealed to us soon enough. We ought to wait." She stopped and looked at Jon. "And the other one? The woman ?"
"I didn't like her," the child confessed after a few moments. "She was cold."
Good gods, her own heart very nearly stopped. Was he by any chance speaking of that old wives' tales of an icy creature in the guise of a great beauty who lured men into her arms only to steal their souls? Might be she'd stolen her son's face and tried to do battle with him for his soul. And that was why those dark bruises stood testimony.
"He saved me." She looked up as the words reached her. "The Bloodraven saved me." From what, Jo did not say, but Lyanna could make a fair guess and hairs stood up at the mere thought. If she could enter the child's mind and harm him with such ease, what else could she do? Did she twist thoughts? Turn milk sour? Make the roosters sleep through the dawn? The possibilities were endless. "But I told him to go away. I was upset. And then that other boy appeared."
It was more than enough to make her weep, Lyanna thought, so very close to sitting up and quitting the chamber. She had thought that nothing could be worse than seeing Jon bloodied and pale, the scars on his face a permanent reminder of her failure to protect him. She had thought that the worse had passed them, that they would have some semblance of peace.
The worst was yet to come. "Might be a Septon could do something to keep her out." Rhaegar was of the Faith. Surely with their written scrolls and wealth of knowledge they could work something out. "Or a maester." Acolyte Brynden. Anyone. "I do not see why my son should be burdened with such a curse." If the gods had wished to delivered punishment, they ought to have put it on her head. Not his. Jon was an innocent. "There has to be something or someone." She looked at Roslaynd Rogers, expecting an answer from her. But her cousin gave her nothing.
"The gods only know what paths they choose for us to walk. The old gods are the ones to whom you should be looking for help in this, not the new. 'Tis not the Mother's Mercy that shall deliver him." They started at one another intently.
"Then what?" Lyanna asked.
"Ask and the old gods shall provide," Rosalynd assured her.
"The gods have stopped listening to my prayers, cousin, a long time past." She herself knew not when, but surely they'd had if such was to be her fate. Her son would be exposed to the wickedness of some ancient being while from the other side the dragonblood pulled at him. Her unborn child would be the fruit of everlasting absolution, she decided in that moment. And she herself would live with her guilt and sorrow. For never again would she be able to look Rhaegar in the eyes as the plan became clearer and clearer in her mind. "But they listen to blood." And blood she would give them. She would drown them in blood.
"A sheep , I suppose would do nicely." And it would have to be a true heart tree she made her sacrifice to. Otherwise the whole of it would have been for naught.
"A sheep," she allowed herself to repeat even as she felt Jon's eyes settle upon her. A frown appeared on his features. "Do not be sad, my sweet, mother shall work everything out." Gylem could surely be convinced of the wisdom of visiting Winterfell.
The rest could be worked out along. She drew in a shaky breath, standing to her feet. "You mustn't speak to anyone of this. Promise me."
"Of course, on my life I swear," Rosalynd offered.
The door swung open with no warning.
Clues:
1) AAAAA ABBAAABBBABAABBAABBBAABAABAAAB AAABAAAAAAABBAB AAAABAABAA AAAABABBBABAABBAABBB AAAAA BABBAABBBAABBABAAABBAABAABAAABAABABBABAAABABB AAAAAABBABAAABB AAAAA BAABBAABAABAAABBAAABABAAAAAAABABABBAABAA BAABBAABBBABAAAABBABAABBA AAAAABAABB BAABBAABBBAABAA BAABAAAAAAABBAAAABAA BAABBABAAAABBAAAABAA BABBAAABBBAABAABAABBAABBBAABAABAAAB BAABAAABBBAABAA ABAAABAABA ABBBAABBABAABAA ABBBABAAAB BAABBAABBBAABAA ABBBABAABBAABBBAABAABAAAB AAABBAABAAABBBBAABAAABBABAAABBBAABA AABAAABBABBAABBABAAABAAABAABAAABABBBBAAA ABBBAAABAB BAABBAABBBAABAA AABAAABBABAAABB BABBAAABBBABAAAAAABAAABBB ABBBAABBABAABAA ABAAABAABA ABBBBBABAABAAABBAABABABAAABAAAABBABAABBA ABABBABAAAAAAAAAAAABABABBAABAA BAABBABBBA AABBAABBBA BAABBABBBA AABBABAAABAABAAAAAAABAABB ABABBAABAAABBABAABBABAABBAABBBBAABA BAABBABBBA ABBBBBAAABABBBABAABBAABAAAAABABAABB BABBAAABBBAAAAABAABB ABAAABAABA AABBBAABAABAAABBAABA ABBAAAAAAAABABAAABAABAABA AABBBAABAABAAAB AAAAA AAABBAAAAAABBABAABBAAABAABAAAB BAABBABBBA AAAAAABABBABABB AABAAABABBBAABAAABAA BABBAAABBBABAAAAAABAAABBB ABAAABAABA ABBABABBBABAABB AABBBAABAABAAABBAABA
2) AAAAA AAABBABAAABAABAABBBBBABAABAABBAABAA AAAABAABAABAABBBABBAAABAAAABAAABBAB BAABBBABBAABBBA AABBABAAABAAAAAABBABAAABB AABABABBBABAAABAAABAAABAABAABA AAABAAAAAAABBAB AABAAAAAAABAABAABAAAABABBBBAAA AAAABAABAA BAABAAABAABAABBBAABBABABBAABAAAAABB AAAABAABAABAABBBABBAAABAAAABAAABBAB ABBBAABBABABABBBBAAA BAABBBABBAABBBA ABAAAABBABAAABBABAAABABABABAAAAAABBBABAAAAAAAABABBBAABA AAAAA ABBAAABBBABAABABAABB AABBBBABAAABBAAAAAAAABBABAABAA ABBAAAAAAAABBABABBABAABAABAAAB BAABAABBBAABBAAAABAA BABBAABBBABABAAABABBAAABB AAAAABAAABAABBABABAAAABAA AAAABBABAABAABB BABBAAABBBAABAAABBAB AABBAABAAABABABAABAAABBAB BAABBAABBBAABAA AAABAAABBBABBBAABAAAAAABAAABAA BAABBABBBA AAABBABAAAAABAA ABAAAABBAB ABBBABAAABAAABBAABAABAAAB BAABBABBBA ABBBBBAAABABBBABABABAABAA BAABBAABBBAABAA AABBBBABAAABBAAAAAAAABBABABAAABAABBBBAAA ABBBAAABAB ABAAABAABB BAABBAABBBAABAABBAAA BAABAAABBBBBAAA AAAAABABBAAAAAABBAAA ABAAAAABAB ABBBAABBABABABBBBAAA ABBBAABBABAABAA BAABA BABBAABBBABAAABAAABBBAABA AAAAAABBABAAABB AAAAAAAABABAABBABAAAABBBAABBABBAABA BABBAAABAABAAABAABAA ABAAAABBAB AAAAAAAABAAAABAABBBABAAABAAABBAAAAAABBABAAABAAABAA
3) AAAABABABBABBBAABBBAAAABB ABAAABAABA AAAAABAAABAABBABABAAAAAAAAAAABABABBBBAAA ABBAAABBBABAABABAABB ABAAAABBAAABBBBABBBABAAABBAABBAAAAAABBABBAABB ABAAAABBAB BAABBAABBBAABAA AAABAABBBAABBABBAABBAABAABABBBBAABB ABBBAAABAB AAAAAABBABBBAAA ABABBABAAAABBABAABAAAAAAAAABBAAABAA BAABBABAAAAABAABAABA BAABBABBBA ABBBAABABBAAABB ABBBBBAAABABBBAABBBBAABBBAABAAAAABAABAAAAABAABAABA AAAABBABAABAABB AAAABABABBABBBAABBBAAAABB ABAAABAABA BAAABAAAAABAAABAABAAABABBBBAAA ABBBAABBAB ABAAABAABBBAABA ABBBABABBAABBAB AABAAABBABABBBABABAAAABBAAABBB BAABBABBBA BAABABABAAAABABAABABABAAAAAABAABAAAAABAAABBABBAABB BBAAA AAAABBABAAABAAAABABBBAABB AAABBAABAAAABABAABAAABBABBAABAAABAABAABA AAAAAABBABAAABB ABAAAABBAB BAABABABAAAAABAAABBB AAABAAAAAABAABAAABAABAABA ABBBAABBABAABAA AABBBAAAAABAABA BAABBABBBA BABBAABBBAABBABAAABBAABAABAAAB BABBAAABBBBBAAA BAABAABBBBABAAAABABBABABB AAAAA AAABBBAAABABBBAABBBB ABBBAAABAB ABAAABAABB BABBAAABBBAABAAABBAB ABAAABAABB AABBBAABAAABABBABBBBBAABA ABBABAAAAABABAAAABBAAABBBBAABB
