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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Melisandre I (Chapter 31)

Welcome to ADWD, the book where I'm forced to write a meta every god damn chapter.

Get in loser, it's girl in grey time (plus so much more!).

The cobbler told them how the body of the Butcher King had been disinterred and clad in copper armor, after the Green Grace of Astapor had a vision that he would deliver them from the Yunkai'i. Armored and stinking, the corpse of Cleon the Great was strapped onto the back of a starving horse to lead the remnants of his new Unsullied on a sortie, but they rode right into the iron teeth of a legion from New Ghis and were cut down to a man.

"Afterward the Green Grace was impaled upon a stake in the Plaza of Punishment and left until she died.

<- Daenerys V

Before we get started, I have to thank @agentrouka-blog for spotting something I overlooked.

In the previous chapter we learn a High Priestess was butchered for false visions of a saviour. Maybe something to keep in mind when Melisandre has the next chapter.

On we go.

+.+.+

Three tallow candles burned upon her windowsill to keep the terrors of the night at bay. Four more flickered beside her bed, two to either side. In the hearth a fire was kept burning day and night. The first lesson those who would serve her had to learn was that the fire must never, ever be allowed to go out.

I am reminded of Jaime's flame.

"The flames will burn so long as you live," he heard Cersei call. "When they die, so must you." - Jaime VI, ASOS

This is going to sound stupid, but I have to ask. If the fire goes out does she die and/or does the glamor break?

+.+.+

One more time. She had to be certain. Many a priest and priestess before her had been brought down by false visions, by seeing what they wished to see instead of what the Lord of Light had sent.

You're such a funny little witch.

+.+.+

I'm going to break up the vision, but some might find it more helpful to see it in its entirety.

Here's a link.

+.+.+

Stannis was marching south into peril, the king who carried the fate of the world upon his shoulders, Azor Ahai reborn. Surely R'hllor would vouchsafe her a glimpse of what awaited him. Show me Stannis, Lord, she prayed. Show me your king, your instrument.

Visions danced before her, gold and scarlet, flickering, forming and melting and dissolving into one another, shapes strange and terrifying and seductive. She saw the eyeless faces again, staring out at her from sockets weeping blood. Then the towers by the sea, crumbling as the dark tide came sweeping over them, rising from the depths. Shadows in the shape of skulls, skulls that turned to mist, bodies locked together in lust, writhing and rolling and clawing. Through curtains of fire great winged shadows wheeled against a hard blue sky.

Visions danced before her, gold and scarlet, flickering, forming and melting and dissolving into one another, shapes strange and terrifying and seductive.

Descriptive language.

She saw the eyeless faces again, staring out at her from sockets weeping blood.

The Weeper captures three rangers, removes their eyes, and impales their heads on spikes for the Night's Watch to find.

We're supposed to consider this vision solved, but I do sometimes wonder if she's actually seeing weirwood trees. We'll return to this idea later.

Then the towers by the sea, crumbling as the dark tide came sweeping over them, rising from the depths.

We'll get more information later in the chapter:

I saw towers by the sea, submerged beneath a black and bloody tide.

This is similar to Jojen's Greyjoy vision in ACOK.

"I dreamed that the sea was lapping all around Winterfell. I saw black waves crashing against the gates and towers, and then the salt water came flowing over the walls and filled the castle. - Bran V, ACOK

Moqorro has a vision of Euron sailing on a sea of blood.

"Have you seen these others in your fires?" he asked, warily.

"Only their shadows," Moqorro said. "One most of all. A tall and twisted thing with one black eye and ten long arms, sailing on a sea of blood." - Tyrion VIII, ADWD

Euron Greyjoy feels like a safe conclusion here.

Towers by the sea? House Hightower, with their white tower coat of arms, and their Hightower seat found in Oldtown is a good guess.

Shadows in the shape of skulls, skulls that turned to mist, bodies locked together in lust, writhing and rolling and clawing.

No clear answer on this one, but I think it's telling it comes between a Euron and Daenerys vision.

Through curtains of fire great winged shadows wheeled against a hard blue sky.

Drogon.

"It were the black one," the man said, in a Ghiscari growl, "the winged shadow. He come down from the sky and … and …" - Daenerys I, ADWD

+.+.+

The girl. I must find the girl again, the grey girl on the dying horse. Jon Snow would expect that of her, and soon. It would not be enough to say the girl was fleeing. He would want more, he would want the when and where, and she did not have that for him. She had seen the girl only once. A girl as grey as ash, and even as I watched she crumbled and blew away.

Whatever that means.

You know what I never noticed? The dying horse vision is back-to-back with Daenerys's pale mare.

Dying horseys delivering two very different things to Jon and Daenerys.

+.+.+

A face took shape within the hearth. Stannis? she thought, for just a moment … but no, these were not his features. A wooden face, corpse white. Was this the enemy? A thousand red eyes floated in the rising flames. He sees me. Beside him, a boy with a wolf's face threw back his head and howled.

Bloodraven and Bran.

I have been many things, Bran. Now I am as you see me, and now you will understand why I could not come to you … except in dreams. I have watched you for a long time, watched you with a thousand eyes and one. - Bran II, ADWD

If I was a wolf . . ." He howled. "Ooo-ooo-oooooooooooo." - Bran I, ACOK

+.+.+

The red priestess shuddered. Blood trickled down her thigh, black and smoking. The fire was inside her, an agony, an ecstasy, filling her, searing her, transforming her. Shimmers of heat traced patterns on her skin, insistent as a lover's hand. Strange voices called to her from days long past. "Melony," she heard a woman cry. A man's voice called, "Lot Seven." She was weeping, and her tears were flame. And still she drank it in.

Most people focus on the Melony and Lot Seven, but the entire passage appears to be pointing to her past.

Blood trickled down her thigh, black and smoking. The fire was inside her, an agony, an ecstasy, filling her, searing her, transforming her.

A miscarriage? The Daenerys vibes are strong.

Shimmers of heat traced patterns on her skin, insistent as a lover's hand.

That sounds like slave branding to me.

Benerro's high voice carried well. Tall and thin, he had a drawn face and skin white as milk. Flames had been tattooed across his cheeks and chin and shaven head to make a bright red mask that crackled about his eyes and coiled down and around his lipless mouth. "Is that a slave tattoo?" asked Tyrion. - Tyrion VII, ADWD

Strange voices called to her from days long past. "Melony," she heard a woman cry. A man's voice called, "Lot Seven." She was weeping, and her tears were flame. And still she drank it in.

Sold into slavery.

"Lot ninety-seven." The auctioneer snapped his whip. "A pair of dwarfs, well trained for your amusement." - Tyrion X, ADWD

+.+.+

Snowflakes swirled from a dark sky and ashes rose to meet them, the grey and the white whirling around each other as flaming arrows arced above a wooden wall and dead things shambled silent through the cold, beneath a great grey cliff where fires burned inside a hundred caves. Then the wind rose and the white mist came sweeping in, impossibly cold, and one by one the fires went out. Afterward only the skulls remained.

Death, thought Melisandre. The skulls are death.

The skulls are death? Thank you, Melisandre. Where would we be without you?

This is Hardhome.

Traders reported finding only nightmarish devastation where Hardhome had stood, a landscape of charred trees and burned bones, waters choked with swollen corpses, blood-chilling shrieks echoing from the cave mouths that pocked the great cliff that loomed above the settlement. - Jon VIII, ADWD

Ash and snowflakes mingling is usually Daenerys territory. Yay for more Daenerys & Others parallels!

+.+.+

The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange, appearing and disappearing again, a shadow half-seen behind a fluttering curtain. Now he was a man, now a wolf, now a man again. But the skulls were here as well, the skulls were all around him. Melisandre had seen his danger before, had tried to warn the boy of it. Enemies all around him, daggers in the dark. He would not listen.

Unbelievers never listened until it was too late.

"What do you see, my lady?" the boy asked, softly.

Skulls. A thousand skulls, and the bastard boy again. Jon Snow.

His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange, appearing and disappearing again, a shadow half-seen behind a fluttering curtain.

That's shadow Jon riding his dragon beyond the curtain of light.

I'm sorry, I couldn't stop myself.

Now he was a man, now a wolf, now a man again.

Hints of resurrection.

But the skulls were here as well, the skulls were all around him. Melisandre had seen his danger before, had tried to warn the boy of it. Enemies all around him, daggers in the dark. He would not listen.

Daggers!

"For the Watch." Wick slashed at him again. This time Jon caught his wrist and bent his arm back until he dropped the dagger. - Jon XIII, ADWD

+.+.+

It was an art, and like all arts it demanded mastery, discipline, study. Pain. That too. R'hllor spoke to his chosen ones through blessed fire, in a language of ash and cinder and twisting flame that only a god could truly grasp. Melisandre had practiced her art for years beyond count, and she had paid the price.

Beyond count? Could you ballpark that.

+.+.+

There was no one, even in her order, who had her skill at seeing the secrets half-revealed and half-concealed within the sacred flames.

Yet Benerro has correctly identified Azor Ahai, while you stand next to a bum.

My memory is garbage, but I remember Moqorro being far more accurate with visions.

+.+.+

Yet now she could not even seem to find her king. I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R'hllor shows me only Snow.

That is the misdirection of a lifetime, and the fandom ate it up.

It's undeniable that Daenerys is Azor Ahai. Daenerys was in the vision.

+.+.+

"Thank you." Melisandre took a sip, swallowed, and gave the boy a smile. That made him blush. The boy was half in love with her, she knew. He fears me, he wants me, and he worships me.

All the same, Devan was not pleased to be here. The lad had taken great pride in serving as a king's squire, and it had wounded him when Stannis commanded him to remain at Castle Black. Like any boy his age, his head was full of dreams of glory; no doubt he had been picturing the prowess he would display at Deepwood Motte. Other boys his age had gone south, to serve as squires to the king's knights and ride into battle at their side. Devan's exclusion must have seemed a rebuke, a punishment for some failure on his part, or perhaps for some failure of his father.

In truth, he was here because Melisandre had asked for him. The four eldest sons of Davos Seaworth had perished in the battle on the Blackwater, when the king's fleet had been consumed by green fire. Devan was the fifthborn and safer here with her than at the king's side. Lord Davos would not thank her for it, no more than the boy himself, but it seemed to her that Seaworth had suffered enough grief. Misguided as he was, his loyalty to Stannis could not be doubted. She had seen that in her flames.

Another squire for Stannis Baratheon, Bryen Farring, dies when they're stuck at the crofter's village.

Something about this feels important. I've got this feeling she might come to regret having Devan near her.

It's Devan who is close to Shireen, not Davos. Devan, Shireen, and Edric took lessons together.

Devan? A good boy. He has much of you in him. - Davos IV, ASOS

+.+.+

Devan was quick and smart and able too, which was more than could be said about most of her attendants. Stannis had left a dozen of his men behind to serve her when he marched south, but most of them were useless. His Grace had need of every sword, so all he could spare were greybeards and cripples.

[...]

Having guards about her would no doubt help keep the black brothers properly respectful, the red priestess knew, but none of the men that Stannis had given her were like to be much help should she find herself in peril. It made no matter. Melisandre of Asshai did not fear for herself. R'hllor would protect her.

It doesn't end here, the chapter will continue to overstress how vulnerable she is. She's relying on her visions for protection, but she's horse shit at interpreting visions.

+.+.+

Dawn. Another day is given us, R'hllor be praised. The terrors of the night recede. Melisandre had spent the night in her chair by the fire, as she often did. With Stannis gone, her bed saw little use. She had no time for sleep, with the weight of the world upon her shoulders.��

Can we get Melisandre, Cersei, and Daenerys alone in a room together?

+.+.+

And she feared to dream. Sleep is a little death, dreams the whisperings of the Other, who would drag us all into his eternal night. She would sooner sit bathed in the ruddy glow of her red lord's blessed flames, her cheeks flushed by the wash of heat as if by a lover's kisses. Some nights she drowsed, but never for more than an hour. One day, Melisandre prayed, she would not sleep at all. One day she would be free of dreams. Melony, she thought. Lot Seven.

I don't think this has anything to do with the Others.

Melisandre doesn't like sleeping because she's carrying a lot of trauma from her past.

"Wine helps me sleep," Tyrion had protested. Wine drowns my dreams, he might have said. - Tyrion IV, ADWD

+.+.+

But beyond the Wall, the enemy grows stronger, and should he win the dawn will never come again. She wondered if it had been his face that she had seen, staring out at her from the flames. No. Surely not. His visage would be more frightening than that, cold and black and too terrible for any man to gaze upon and live. The wooden man she had glimpsed, though, and the boy with the wolf's face … they were his servants, surely … his champions, as Stannis was hers.

Melisandre believes the Other is a single enemy with servants. Probably more evidence that's not the case.

Hopefully Bran and Melisandre never meet.

+.+.+

"Does my lady wish to break her fast?" asked Devan.

Food. Yes, I should eat. Some days she forgot. R'hllor provided her with all the nourishment her body needed, but that was something best concealed from mortal men.

As opposed to immortal women?

+.+.+

Snow still chose to dwell behind the armory, in a pair of modest rooms previously occupied by the Watch's late blacksmith. Perhaps he did not think himself worthy of the King's Tower, or perhaps he did not care. That was his mistake, the false humility of youth that is itself a sort of pride. It was never wise for a ruler to eschew the trappings of power, for power itself flows in no small measure from such trappings.

Dippy Melisandre is capable of some wisdom every once in awhile.

+.+.+

While the boy was gone, Melisandre washed herself and changed her robes. Her sleeves were full of hidden pockets, and she checked them carefully as she did every morning to make certain all her powders were in place. Powders to turn fire green or blue or silver, powders to make a flame roar and hiss and leap up higher than a man is tall, powders to make smoke. A smoke for truth, a smoke for lust, a smoke for fear, and the thick black smoke that could kill a man outright. The red priestess armed herself with a pinch of each of them.

That's probably how she mind fucked Jon and Ghost.

+.+.+

The carved chest that she had brought across the narrow sea was more than three-quarters empty now. And while Melisandre had the knowledge to make more powders, she lacked many rare ingredients. My spells should suffice. She was stronger at the Wall, stronger even than in Asshai. Her every word and gesture was more potent, and she could do things that she had never done before. Such shadows as I bring forth here will be terrible, and no creature of the dark will stand before them. With such sorceries at her command, she should soon have no more need of the feeble tricks of alchemists and pyromancers.

Perfect climate to bring the dead back to life!

I'm surprised she never tries to bed Mance Rayder. Hell, maybe she did, I don't know.

+.+.+

The wildling wore a sleeveless jerkin of boiled leather dotted with bronze studs beneath a worn cloak mottled in shades of green and brown. No bones. He was cloaked in shadows too, in wisps of ragged grey mist, half-seen, sliding across his face and form with every step he took. Ugly things. As ugly as his bones.

Huh? This is the glamor right? Why does she find the shadows ugly?

+.+.+

Melisandre felt the warmth in the hollow of her throat as her ruby stirred at the closeness of its slave.

And what would that make you Melisandre?

Let's add Melisandre to the list of characters who need a therapist.

+.+.+

"A few. I was eating bean-and-bacon soup whilst Bowen Marsh was going on about the high ground. The Old Pomegranate thought that I was spying on him and announced that he would not suffer murderers listening to their councils. I told him that if that was true, maybe they shouldn't have them by the fire. Bowen turned red and made some choking sounds, but that was as far as it went."

Does Bowen Marsh not like anyone listening to his private conversations?

+.+.+

Melisandre paid the naked steel no mind. If the wildling had meant her harm, she would have seen it in her flames. Danger to her own person was the first thing she had learned to see, back when she was still half a child, a slave girl bound for life to the great red temple. It was still the first thing she looked for whenever she gazed into a fire.

Let's go back. What was the first thing the flames showed her?

She saw the eyeless faces again, staring out at her from sockets weeping blood.

I know it's silly to doubt one of the more obvious visions, but I have to question whether she's seeing the Weeper's Work or a weirwood tree. The trees are not her friend!

If it's not that, I can't see any other threat to her life, unless it's Jon.

+.+.+

"The glamor, aye." In the black iron fetter about his wrist, the ruby seemed to pulse. He tapped it with the edge of his blade. The steel made a faint click against the stone. "I feel it when I sleep. Warm against my skin, even through the iron. Soft as a woman's kiss. Your kiss. But sometimes in my dreams it starts to burn, and your lips turn into teeth. Every day I think how easy it would be to pry it out, and every day I don't. Must I wear the bloody bones as well?"

I don't know, maybe we shouldn't play with fire.

A rising heat puffed at her face, soft and sudden as a lover's breath, but in seconds it had grown too hot to bear. Dany stepped backward. - Daenerys X, AGOT

+.+.+

The wildling began to scrape the dirt out from beneath his nails with the point of his dagger. "I've sung my songs, fought my battles, drunk summer wine, tasted the Dornishman's wife. A man should die the way he's lived. For me that's steel in hand."

Does he dream of death? Could the enemy have touched him? Death is his domain, the dead his soldiers.

Is she terrified of dying? Is that why she won’t let herself die?

+.+.+

Melisandre nodded solemnly, as if she had taken his words to heart, but this Weeper did not matter. None of his free folk mattered. They were a lost people, a doomed people, destined to vanish from the earth, as the children of the forest had vanished. Those were not words he would wish to hear, though, and she could not risk losing him, not now.

Thank god Stannis and Melisandre came to the Wall to save humanity. The two best people for the job, I think.

+.+.+

"The girl," she said. "A girl in grey on a dying horse. Jon Snow's sister." Who else could it be? She was racing to him for protection, that much Melisandre had seen clearly. "I have seen her in my flames, but only once. We must win the lord commander's trust, and the only way to do that is to save her."

Important to note, the vision never revealed to Melisandre that the girl is Jon's sister, and she's fleeing from a marriage. Those are details she added after learning about Ramsay's letters. She made an assumption.

It might end up being true, but it's not a certainty.

+.+.+

"If your stiff-necked lord commander will allow it. Did your fires show you where to find this girl?"

It's never made clear why Mance would help Jon. I don't know if that's poor writing, or whether I should be wary of that.

+.+.+

"I saw water. Deep and blue and still, with a thin coat of ice just forming on it. It seemed to go on and on forever."

"Long Lake. What else did you see around this girl?"

"Hills. Fields. Trees. A deer, once. Stones. She is staying well away from villages. When she can she rides along the bed of little streams, to throw hunters off her trail."

He frowned. "That will make it difficult. She was coming north, you said. Was the lake to her east or to her west?"

Melisandre closed her eyes, remembering. "West."

"She is not coming up the kingsroad, then. Clever girl. There are fewer watchers on the other side, and more cover. And some hidey-holes I have used myself from time—"

It's time!

I'm not covering a lot of new ground here. Shoutout to The Jonsa Compendium for doing all the hard work.

Who is the girl in grey? We will be examining five candidates. I will try to remain impartial, but obviously I have a horse in this race.

Things We Know*:

*we don't really know, this is dippy Melisandre we're dealing with.

The girl in grey is wearing grey. A girl as grey as ash. However, there is room for error.

At night all robes are grey. - Jon VI, ADWD

The girl in grey is fleeing on a dying horse.

The girl in grey is racing to Jon for protection.

The girl in grey is a clever girl.

The girl in grey is travelling along the east of Long Lake, to avoid the kingsroad, villages, and hunters.

Melisandre claims the girl in grey is Jon's sister fleeing from an unwanted marriage. That is not confirmed.

Behold! A map for reference.

Candidate #1: ARYA STARK

Melisandre is not actually seeing Arya, that's the whole fucking point.

Candidate #2: ALYS KARSTARK

Supporting evidence

Alys is tall, skinny, and coltish. She has a long face, blue-grey eyes, and long brown hair. The Karstarks have the Stark look, therefore it would be easy for Melisandre to mistake her for Jon's sister.

Alys flees Karhold to avoid marrying Cregan Karstark.

Ty and Dannel find a weakened Alys in Mole's Town, riding a dying horse.

"None, m'lord. She come alone. Her horse was dying under her. All skin and ribs it was, lame and lathered. They cut it loose and took the girl for questioning." - Jon IX, ADWD

Counterevidence

Please refer to the map.

Alys Karstark never travels anywhere near Long Lake. The only body of water close to her (hardly) is The Last River. It's a river, not a lake. It wouldn't be still water.

It's a little strange the text never specifies what Alys is wearing when she arrives. There's no grey to be found. The only time her clothing is ever highlighted, she's wearing a Night's Watch black cloak.

The girl was curled up near the fire, wrapped in a black woolen cloak three times her size and fast asleep. - Jon IX, ADWD

Candidate #3: JEYNE POOLE

Supporting evidence

Jeyne Poole is currently pretending to be Arya Stark.

Jeyne is fleeing from her marriage to Ramsay Bolton.

Jeyne is currently on her way to the Wall. Stannis sends Jeyne to the Wall with an escort of 6 men, 12 horses, and Alysane Mormont.

Jeyne is wearing grey roughspun, with a brown cloak. This could be evidence or counterevidence, depending on your point of view.

Clad as serving girls in layers of drab grey roughspun, they wore brown woolen cloaks lined with white rabbit fur. - Theon I, ADWD

Counterevidence

Please refer to the map.

For Jeyne Poole to get east of Long Lake, she would have to pass Winterfell, cross the kingsroad, and then cross the lake itself. That is suicide.

Why are we not seeing Jeyne's escort in this vision? (Counterpoint: They could be dead.)

She's currently wearing a brown cloak.

Candidate #4: ASHA GREYJOY

Supporting evidence

A girl as grey as ash = Asha Greyjoy.

Asha is a prisoner of Stannis Baratheon's. They're in a crofter's village between two smaller lakes that have frozen over.

Her irons clanked as she climbed to her feet and took a breath of the icy morning air. The snow was still falling, even more heavily than when she'd crawled inside the tent. The lakes had vanished, and the woods as well. - The Sacrifice, ADWD

If the vision is accurate, and the girl is travelling solo, it's feasible Asha could survive this trip by herself.

The horses Asha has access to aren't doing so well.

And there was no food, beyond their failing horses, fish taken from the lakes (fewer every day), and whatever meagre sustenance their foragers could find in these cold, dead woods. - The Sacrifice, ADWD

It's possible this was foreshadowed. (Counterpoint: It could have been chapter transition foreshadowing. Sansa had the next chapter.)

"Ten," Asha corrected. "The others return with me. You wouldn't want your own sweet sister to brave the dangers of the wood without an escort, would you? There are direwolves prowling the dark." - Theon V, ACOK

Counterevidence

Please refer to the map.

For Asha Greyjoy to get east of Long Lake, she would have to first escape Stannis, pass Winterfell, cross the kingsroad, and then cross the lake itself. That is suicide.

Asha Greyjoy is our only non-northern candidate. Does she even know how to get to the Wall while avoiding major roads and villages?

Why would a Greyjoy ever flee towards the Wall after escaping from Stannis? That's Stannis Baratheon's home base, they don't take women, they wouldn't help her, and a Stark is the Lord Commander. Seems far more likely she'd go to a coast if she were to escape.

Asha is almost 10 years older than Jon. Is Melisandre capable of mistaking her for a younger sister?

It's not evident from Asha's or Theon's chapters that she's wearing grey.

Despite her forced marriage, she wouldn't technically be fleeing from an unwanted marriage. (Counterpoint: The girl fleeing from an unwanted marriage might not be accurate.)

Candidate #5: SANSA STARK

Oh boy! The last person you would expect.

Supporting evidence

Sansa is Jon's younger sister. For now.

Petyr plans to marry Sansa to himself or to Harrold Hardyng.

Alys Karstark was running from a marriage to her uncle that isn't really her uncle. The man wanted to claim her castle. You might be able to spot a few amusing Sansa parallels.

Grey and white are the Stark colours. It's a colour you often see Sansa wearing.

Sansa threw a plain grey cloak over her shoulders and picked up the knife she used to cut her meat. - Sansa II, ACOK

And it was a woman's gown, not a little girl's, there was no doubt of that. The bodice was slashed in front almost to her belly, the deep vee covered over with a panel of ornate Myrish lace in dove-grey. - Sansa III, ASOS

. . . 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 . . . - Alayne II, AFFC

If she was coming from White Harbor, Sansa is the only girl of these five that would travel east of Long Lake.

Sansa is a clever girl. Sansa would not travel along the kingsroad. [She is not coming up the kingsroad, then. Clever girl.]

Dontos chuckled. "My Jonquil's a clever girl, isn't she?" - Sansa IV, ACOK

"There's a clever girl." - Sansa VI, ASOS

Sers, the Lady Alayne, my natural and very clever daughter - Alayne II, AFFC

"What a clever daughter you are." - Alayne I, TWOW

"No one told me you were clever." - Alayne I, TWOW

Melisandre sees Stones. [Hills. Fields. Trees. A deer, once. Stones.]

I won't include every example, but this is foreshadowed throughout the rest of the series.

"I never knew a wolf to run up a streambed for miles," said Reek. "A man might. If he knew he was being hunted, he might. But a wolf?" - Theon IV, ACOK

The Liddle took out a knife and whittled at a stick. "When there was a Stark in Winterfell, a maiden girl could walk the kingsroad in her name-day gown and still go unmolested, and travelers could find fire, bread, and salt at many an inn and holdfast. - Bran II, ASOS

If Dontos and this northern girl helped murder our sweet king, it seems to me that they would want to put as many leagues as they could betwixt themselves and justice. Look for them in Oldtown, if you must, or across the narrow sea. Look for them in Dorne, or on the Wall. Look elsewhere. - Brienne II, AFFC

Or would she seek her own blood instead? Though all of her siblings had been slain, Brienne knew that Sansa still had an uncle and a bastard half brother on the Wall, serving in the Night's Watch. Another uncle, Edmure Tully, was a captive at the Twins, but his uncle Ser Brynden still held Riverrun. And Lady Catelyn's younger sister ruled the Vale. Blood calls to blood. Sansa might well have run to one of them. Which one, though? - Brienne II, AFFC

This happened on the television show.

Counterevidence.

Sansa would never willingly ride a horse. I'm sorry, I'll be serious.

Where is her escort in this vision? I love me some Sansa Stark, but she does not have the skill set to travel solo in these conditions for this long of a distance.

Unless the weather is horrendous, it's safer and faster for Sansa to take a ship from White Harbor to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea than to travel through the north. (Counterpoint: the weather is horrendous. Ships are sinking left and right.)

Wyman Manderly is #1 Stark Fan. Why would Sansa leave White Harbor for the Wall when Jon can't truly help her? Why would Wyman Manderly let her go? (Counterpoint: Blood calls to blood.)

In conclusion, it's Sansa. The end.

+.+.+

The day has come, the red priestess thought. Lord Snow will have to listen to me now.

[...]

"Lord Snow has need of me, beyond the Wall." He does not know it yet, but soon …

It would be funny if she didn't even revive him.

I love the idea of her being forever useless.

+.+.+

Queen's men [Morgan and Merrel], at least in name, both had a healthy fear of her, and Merrel could be formidable when he was not drunk. She would have no need of them today, but Melisandre made it a point to keep a pair of guards about her everywhere she went. It sent a certain message. The trappings of power.

They're not great guards, but it will still be difficult to kill her. Unlike, say, Jon.

For the record, Devan spends almost the entire chapter at her side.

+.+.+

The spears were eight feet long and made of ash. The one on the left had a slight crook, but the other two were smooth and straight. At the top of each was impaled a severed head. Their beards were full of ice, and the falling snow had given them white hoods. Where their eyes had been, only empty sockets remained, black and bloody holes that stared down in silent accusation.

[...]

Bowen Marsh's cheeks were red with cold. "We should never have sent out rangers."

"This is not the time and place to pick at that wound. Not here, my lord. Not now." To the men struggling with the spears Snow said, "Take the heads and burn them. Leave nothing but bare bone." Only then did he seem to notice Melisandre. "My lady. Walk with me, if you would."

Update: pomegranate still unhappy.

+.+.+

The priestess did not speak, but she slowed her pace deliberately, and where she walked the ice began to drip. He will not fail to notice that.

I'm laughing because that would creep him out more than anything.

+.+.+

"What of the other six?"

"I have not seen them," Melisandre said.

"Will you look?"

"Of course, my lord."

Alliser Thorne is the only missing man we care about.

+.+.+

"We've had a raven from Ser Denys Mallister at the Shadow Tower," Jon Snow told her. "His men have seen fires in the mountains on the far side of the Gorge. Wildlings massing, Ser Denys believes. He thinks they are going to try to force the Bridge of Skulls again."

"Some may." Could the skulls in her vision have signified this bridge? Somehow Melisandre did not think so.

The gift this woman has.

+.+.+

"If it comes, that attack will be no more than a diversion. I saw towers by the sea, submerged beneath a black and bloody tide. That is where the heaviest blow will fall."

"Eastwatch?"

Was it? Melisandre had seen Eastwatch-by-the-Sea with King Stannis. That was where His Grace left Queen Selyse and their daughter Shireen when he assembled his knights for the march to Castle Black. The towers in her fire had been different, but that was oft the way with visions. "Yes. Eastwatch, my lord."

The best there is, the best there was, and the best there ever will be.

+.+.+

"When?"

She spread her hands. "On the morrow. In a moon's turn. In a year. And it may be that if you act, you may avert what I have seen entirely." Else what would be the point of visions?

That's definitely not the case in this story.

You can't forestall prophecy. There's no playing god.

+.+.+

"Is it true, m'lord?" said Three-Finger Hobb.

"Who is it?" asked Owen the Oaf. "Not Dywen, is it?"

"Nor Garth," said the queen's man she knew as Alf of Runnymudd, one of the first to exchange his seven false gods for the truth of R'hllor. "Garth's too clever for them wildlings."

"How many?" Mully asked.

"Three," Jon told them. "Black Jack, Hairy Hal, and Garth."

Alf of Runnymudd let out a howl loud enough to wake sleepers in the Shadow Tower. "Put him to bed and get some mulled wine into him," Jon told Three-Finger Hobb.

What? How is a person in the Night's Watch a queen's man?

In a later chapter Alf will be seen sitting with Bowen Marsh and Wick Whittlestick.

+.+.+

The snow fell all around them. She walked as close to Jon Snow as she dared, close enough to feel the mistrust pouring off him like a black fog. He does not love me, will never love me, but he will make use of me. Well and good. Melisandre had danced the same dance with Stannis Baratheon, back in the beginning. In truth, the young lord commander and her king had more in common than either one would ever be willing to admit. Stannis had been a younger son living in the shadow of his elder brother, just as Jon Snow, bastard-born, had always been eclipsed by his trueborn sibling, the fallen hero men had called the Young Wolf. Both men were unbelievers by nature, mistrustful, suspicious. The only gods they truly worshiped were honor and duty.

They both need to work on their interpersonal skills, but that's as far as I'll go.

He does not love me, will never love me, but he will make use of me.

More resurrection!

How much do we love that Jon can't stand Stannis and Melisandre? I wonder if that's telling us anything about the future.

+.+.+

"What are you doing here?"

"Breaking my fast. You're welcome to share."

"I'll not break bread with you."

That's Mance still wearing the Rattleshirt glamor.

Jon wouldn't break bread with Craster either.

+.+.+

"I could visit you as easily, my lord. Those guards at your door are a bad jape.

We can't go one chapter at the Wall without being told Jon's a sitting duck.

+.+.+

"I heard about your rangers. You should have sent me with them."

"So you could betray them to the Weeper?"

"Are we talking about betrayals? What was the name of that wildling wife of yours, Snow? Ygritte, wasn't it?" The wildling turned to Melisandre. "I will need horses. Half a dozen good ones. And this is nothing I can do alone. Some of the spearwives penned up at Mole's Town should serve. Women would be best for this. The girl's more like to trust them, and they will help me carry off a certain ploy I have in mind."

I'm searching for real animosity between Mance and Jon, but there isn't much other than the above.

The girl's more like to trust them, and they will help me carry off a certain ploy I have in mind.

Why go to Winterfell? Why not camp out near Long Lake? It's like he's asking to die. I don't get it.

+.+.+

He leaves me no choice. So be it. "Devan, leave us," she said, and the squire slipped away and closed the door behind him.

Melisandre touched the ruby at her neck and spoke a word.

The sound echoed queerly from the corners of the room and twisted like a worm inside their ears. The wildling heard one word, the crow another. Neither was the word that left her lips. The ruby on the wildling's wrist darkened, and the wisps of light and shadow around him writhed and faded.

[...]

Jon Snow's grey eyes grew wider. "Mance?"

"Lord Snow." Mance Rayder did not smile.

"She burned you."

"She burned the Lord of Bones."

Covered in the previous Jon chapter, but I'll repeat. We have to be on alert whenever Melisandre's speaking in another person's POV.

"Westeros has but one king," said Stannis. His voice rang harsh, with none of Melisandre's music. - Jon III, ADWD

"Ghost." Melisandre made the word a song. - Jon VI, ADWD

+.+.+

Jon Snow turned to Melisandre. "What sorcery is this?"

"Call it what you will. Glamor, seeming, illusion. R'hllor is Lord of Light, Jon Snow, and it is given to his servants to weave with it, as others weave with thread."

[...]

"The bones help," said Melisandre. "The bones remember. The strongest glamors are built of such things. A dead man's boots, a hank of hair, a bag of fingerbones. With whispered words and prayer, a man's shadow can be drawn forth from such and draped about another like a cloak. The wearer's essence does not change, only his seeming."

There's no way she has Davos Seaworth's fingers, but it's enough to make you pause.

A hank of hair was used on the show to help wake Jon, and there's often focus on a dead man's boots, so maybe this is telling us something.

+.+.+

She made it sound a simple thing, and easy. They need never know how difficult it had been, or how much it had cost her. That was a lesson Melisandre had learned long before Asshai; the more effortless the sorcery appears, the more men fear the sorcerer. When the flames had licked at Rattleshirt, the ruby at her throat had grown so hot that she had feared her own flesh might start to smoke and blacken. Thankfully Lord Snow had delivered her from that agony with his arrows. Whilst Stannis had seethed at the defiance, she had shuddered with relief.

What am I supposed to do with this information? Is she going to hurt herself casting spells?

+.+.+

"Our false king has a prickly manner," Melisandre told Jon Snow, "but he will not betray you. We hold his son, remember. And he owes you his very life."

"Me?" Snow sounded startled.

"Who else, my lord? Only his life's blood could pay for his crimes, your laws said, and Stannis Baratheon is not a man to go against the law … but as you said so sagely, the laws of men end at the Wall. I told you that the Lord of Light would hear your prayers. You wanted a way to save your little sister and still hold fast to the honor that means so much to you, to the vows you swore before your wooden god." She pointed with a pale finger. "There he stands, Lord Snow. Arya's deliverance. A gift from the Lord of Light … and me."

That doesn't feel like a great deterrent. Melisandre and Val are aware that's not Mance's child.

"His milk name. I had to call him something. See that he stays safe and warm. For his mother's sake, and mine. And keep him away from the red woman. She knows who he is. She sees things in her fires." - Jon VIII, ADWD

If they know, I lean towards Mance also being aware.

Anyway, beware of gifts.

Final thoughts:

One and done for dippy Melisandre. I'll miss you, you crazy witch.

More and more POVs are ending, and it's making me weirdly emotional.

Brienne

Samwell

Davos

Melisandre

Bran

Of course it's the good POVs.

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