The Sand Snakes
They all have their father’s eyes and they all have their own weapon
Demons are very wicked. They will hurt you if they can.
1920s Merthur AU
Mob boss Uther Pendragon runs the city of Camelot and is so determined to shut down sinful jazz bar and speakeasy The Magic Room that he sends his playboy son undercover to destroy it. Little does Arthur realise that he’ll soon fall for the music, the people and especially the club owner, the elusive Merlin Emrys.
1455. "Explain to me why it is more noble to kill ten thousand men in battle than a dozen at dinner." Because with that one sentence Tywin Lannister did the impossible: he legitimately justified the Red Wedding.
Submitted by renlytargaryen
I was gonna let this go, because I don’t even read these books, but then I saw there was a shitstorm so I figured I might as well wade in. Because I don’t think Tywin’s challenge is particularly difficult to answer.
It is more noble to kill 10,000 soldiers in battle than a dozen wedding guests because the soldiers have some awareness that you will try to kill them. That’s why they, y’know, thought to bring 10,000 guys with them. We’re basically talking about the moral difference between shooting a man in a duel and shooting an unarmed man in the back. A five-year-old could understand this distinction.
Certainly it is easier to kill a dozen people at dinner than an entire army, and it is arguably more efficient to launch a surprise decapitation strike than a direct assault. But that doesn’t have anything to do with whether one tactic is more noble than the other. I can appreciate that Tywin believes the Red Wedding has deftly ended a rebellion, so I can see why he doesn’t much care. But his indifference does not determine whether one course of action is more honorable than another. If I shoot an unarmed man in the back, I might be able to justify my actions, but not to the same extent that I can justify shooting a man who is presently trying to shoot me.
I suppose Tywin’s point is that it ought to be more noble to end a war by violating hospitium than to prolong it with “honorable” combat. However, to accept this logic means embracing its logical extreme: Explain to me why it is more noble to kill a dozen men at dinner than to, say, smother Tywin Lannister in his sleep.
I assume Tywin’s response to that predicament would be to Red Wedding everybody else before they can Red Wedding him. But that’s not a rebuttal to the point, it’s just a siege mentality. The Hand of the King (or whatever Tywin is, idgaf) can afford to play that game only because he happens to have the most power and so forth. It comes down to “It doesn’t matter if we fight fair, but I’m the only one who gets to cheat.” That’s not even remotely noble; it’s third-grade playground bullshit.
Pampered from an early age, Rhaenyra was a pudgy girl and a stout woman, with a thick waist and a very large bosom. She was very proud and stubborn, and there was a certain petulance to her small mouth.
Rhaenyra had her family’s Valyrian looks, wearing her silver-gold hair in a long braid in the manner of Aegon I’s warrior wife Visenya, though Rhaenyra was no warrior herself. She always dressed richly, favoring purple and maroon velvets and golden Myrish lace in intricate patterns. Her bodice often glittered with pearls and diamonds, and there were always rings on her fingers.
- A Wiki of Ice and Fire
"Everyone I have cared for has either died or left me. Everyone — fucking except for you. So don’t tell me that I would be safer with someone else, because the truth is
I would just be more scared.”
ASOIAF/Greek Mythology: Lyanna as Eris
Who indeed is the fairest? Is it she, with hair as brown as bark and a depthless grey peering from her eyes? Her fingers grip tight the sword of perdition and she laughs when they fight over her- her hand, her love, her beauty. If it’s a fight they want, she won’t back down. Is she a mystery? She has never desired to be, putting forth her honesty and opinions with a sharp tongue. Will they refuse to call her for her harsh words? Fierce and fragile, with shards of ice in her veins and falling snow in her eyes, she will not overlook the slight, lingering until revenge has been planned out. She does not need defense, she does not need protection- only justice of the twisted sort. She is the center of thousands of plots, scheming hatching planning. Despair, for when her vengeance fails and the world is at war, she will ascend peacefully and look down from the clouds, a sneer on her lips. Mortals; how quaint. A wolf never dies, runs always with howling winds.
ASOIAF/Greek Mythology: Elia as Penelope
Her nights are filled with enduring, an inconsolable longing as endless as the desert, and her days are filled with the pale prying eyes of strangers and suitors and those she once considered friends but are now little more than foreigners. Though she has been abandoned and thrust into confusion, still she sits by the window and looks outward into the sun and sparkling seas with squinting eyes, waiting for him to return- a wife faithful and patient. She turns her tears to threads and holds their babe at her breast and settles in for the long sticky summer season to end, bringing him home with the first gentle rains of autumn and wash away her sorrows at last. This persistence, she knows, will end only with his homecoming or her death.