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The Humiliation of Lyanna Mormont
By : Meowshi
Category: G through L > Game of Thrones
Views: 13398 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire, nor any of the characters from these series. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. -
Chapter List
- 1-Honeyed Words
- 2-Scions of a Dying House
- 3-The Little She-Bear
- 4-It Be Mercy
- 5-Fear Cuts Deep
- 6-Yellow Fear
- 7-Hatred Made Flesh
- 8-The Corpse-King
- 9-Cold Breath, Colder Words
- 10-Violation
- 11-No Place for a Lady
- 12-Wherever Cowardly Whores Go
- 13-The Wolfswood
- 14-The Sorrowful Symphony of Ice
- 15-The Bastardly Ballad of Fire
- 16-Here We Stand
Cobb One-Eye paused his story to greedily gulp down the rest of his mead. The mug was replaced as soon as it was drained, the crowd eagerly willing to ply with him drink as long as he continued his tale. The old crofter was far worldlier and more articulate than most Bear Islanders, and knew how to tell a story that would captivate the crowd and leave them wanting more.
“To hear those lying bards Benioff and Weiss tell it, the Night's King was a desiccated old ghoul, incapable of speech or emotion, but that ain't the truth of it. The corpse-king was well-preserved, with flesh as pale as milk and eyes like deep pools of liquid blue ice. He was hauntingly tall and gaunt, possessing the handsome countenance and distinguished air of one of the First Men. However, there were spots here and there where his skin was torn and what remained was hanging limply like tattered cloth. It was in these patches that you could see that the exposed bone of his skull was not pale like man's, but shimmered like milkglass in the moonlight...”
Cobb's voice trailed off as he stared into his mug, his one good eye peering into the distant past wistfully. With a throaty, congested cough, he cleared his windpipe and went on speaking, his words wracked with grief.
“He was frightening, that much is undeniable, but he also had a strange sort of beauty to him. An unholiness too. His body was covered in this shining, reflective armor that changed shades with each footstep. A greatsword fashioned from crystal hung across his back and he rode atop a horned, rotting steed the likes o' which I've never seen before or since. He brought the cold with him wherever he tred and it chilled you down to the bone just to share the same air as him.”
Cobb paused again, perhaps for dramatic effect, perhaps just to let out a thunderous belch. Who can be sure?
“It’s impossible to describe the force that was this being—to have the truth of it, he weren't much like a dead thing at all! He was alive with moonlight, glimmering blue-silver in hue, more like one o' them faerie folk of legend than anything else. Bugger me with a bloody spear if I am lying, but there was something human about the way he looked at us when he broke through the gate at Winterfell. Hate emanated from him like a fog, so thick you could feel it. He didn't just want to kill us; no, he wanted to break our spirits and humiliate us! This is why he did what he did to poor, innocent Lyanna. I swear on all the gods, old and new, he weren't no emotionless corpse like the stories say—he was hatred made flesh and given grim purpose.”
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Yes, in this setting "Game of Thrones" is just the shitty, sanitized version of the real story told by the southron bards Benioff and Weiss! I envision them as essentially being like Dandelion from the Witcher show, spinning the truth in order to maximize their profits and rushing off before the performance is properly finished to flirt with all the maids and ladies of King's Landing.
╚═══════════════════════════════════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═══════════════════════════════════════╝
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