Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Bloodraven admired.
How long has it been that he has been stuck in the literal middle of butt-fuck nowhere?
How long since he had last seen anything (or anyone) he could at least try to describe as remotely pretty? (How far have the mighty fallen…and their standards…)
Where North of the Wall, the wildlings bathed on very special occasions if at all. And so their most ‘beautiful’ men and women were perhaps in the same range as beggars of Flee Bottom. And that was not taking the widespread traces of Giant’s blood in their veins. A woman with a square jaw, muscly arms and twice his height that seems to be well on her way to growing a beard? Ew. No thanks.
Although the Night Brothers’ beauty standards tended to fall very quickly. And so captured wildlings, no matter how ugly, were the rage. If not, then the subjects of their ‘affections’ usually ended up being fellow ‘brothers’ that were a little more attractive than not at all. He would know. He was almost the subject of such ‘affections’ when he was newly inducted. But he wasn’t a sorcerer for nothing.
And if the group of idiots made ‘offers’ to the ugliest and meanest member of the Night Watch because of a well-placed glamour? Well… it’s not like they could have proved anything. But after that? Everyone ‘suddenly’ remembered that Targaryens were rumored to be sorcerers. So from then on, they knew better than to ‘proposition’ him.
Because no one wanted to be cursed impotent. No one at all…
But now, because of reasons, he could not get enough of the vision in front of him. The slim and obviously Valyrian figure could have belonged in the most extravagant court of his youth. The beauty before him overshadowed even the Seastar in her prime. He would know, being one of the few people that could judge. It was something he would have thought impossible. Knew to be impossible. Shiera was an epitome of beauty and perfection. But the being in front of him now brought her to shame.
Such an exquisite creature belonged in the arms of Emperors with the world at their feet.
It mattered not that the being was obviously male.
But Brynden felt something…
It wasn’t wrong exactly.
It was right.
But it shouldn’t be right.
It wasn’t that the ethereal being had just been a fox before transforming into a pale-faced, moon-haired, grey-eyed boy. No, he did hear of skinchangers before. It took much more than being his first time actually seeing onein the flesh to shock the Bloodraven.
No. That wasn’t it.
It wasn’t the subtly inhuman beauty either. (He had never seen slitted pupils on a ‘human’ before). For someone who grew up at court and to see all the great beauties of both Westeros and Essos that tried their luck with ‘the Unworthy’ Aegon, an ethereal visage was just his piece of cake that makes him think back to his youth and the success of schemes accomplished in the bedroom by such beauties.
Not that he would ever suggest something that vulgar to the being before him. He is not Baelish. Because mortal ladies of the court are one thing, but a creature so obviously not, is completely another.
No that also wasn’t what made his inner instincts rise up in alert.
It was that the majestic sight before him was not Jon Snow. Could never be Jon Snow.
But it should be.
Because when the Bloodraven followed the ‘missing’ boy’s magical trail, it couldn’t have led him to anyone else.
Though jumping to premature conclusions about young Jon’s warging abilities and trying to get an animal that ‘smelt’ like him to lead him back to its master is something he would avoid doing in the future.
But then again, maybe not.
Because he has a feeling that if he hadn’t forced the issue, the secret of ‘Jon Snow’ would have remained just that. A secret. And there were few things the Bloodraven hated more than secrets. If they weren’t his own that is.
But when the creature that was and wasn’t Jon Snow opened his mouth, Brynden could feel the first signs of a headache coming on. Because there was only so much he could handle not understanding in one day.
Being asked to shift back?
Huh?
How?
Oh…
Oh!...
Perhaps no one has explained to the poor thing that warging doesn’t work that way?
Well someone has to…
So it might as well be him.