Random Things

It’s nigh impossible to go too long in the Jaime and/or Jaime x Brienne fandom without hearing talk of people headcanoning Jaime Lannister as being a bisexual disaster, but from where did this talk derive? 

Interpretations of the text, of course! But what could be there, you say? How much so called evidence could there possibly be?

A lot. 

A whole lot. 

Now, I think we can all agree that any such textual evidence was unintentional on GRRM’s part; it’s more than quite likely that GRRM thinks he’s written Jaime to be a heterosexual man. That doesn’t change what he wrote, though, nor how his writing can be interpreted—or, in this case, has been interpreted.

Bi Jaime headcanons were all born from endless textual bits of evidence concerning Jaime. 

My fellow Jaime stans, let me introduce to you all the ways GRRM accidentally made Jam Lan far less heterosexual than he intended.

Unintentional Homoeroticism, Unintentional Homoeroticism Everywhere

There is a plethora of homoerotic imagery and wording throughout Jaime’s interactions and thoughts with the men he has literary connections with—the men he respects and admires, begrudgingly or openly, because he perceives them to be honorable. Those who read Jaime as bi half-joke that, because of the pattern of the sort of men he’s “into,” he’s honorsexual. Though we joke, our humor and our interpretations are all born from the text itself, and how they can be read, especially if the reader isn’t looking through a heteronormative lens. Let’s break ‘em down—in chronological order of Jaime meeting them/falling for them.

Jaime and Brynden Tully (or, slutty questions at dinner tables, with a side of silver fox thirsting)

Brynden “the Blackfish” Tully is example A, the one who started it all—Jaime’s first honorcrush, you could say. Dive in to the quote:

[Lysa Tully] had been a pretty girl, in truth; dimpled and delicate, with long auburn hair. Timid, though. Prone to tongue-tied silences and fits of giggles, with none of Cersei’s fire. Her older sister had seemed more interesting, though Catelyn was promised to some northern boy, the heir of Winterfell … but at that age, no girl interested Jaime half so much as Hoster’s famous brother, who had won renown fighting the Ninepenny Kings upon the Stepstones. At table he had ignored poor Lysa, whilst pressing Brynden Tully for tales of Maelys the Monstrous and the Ebon Prince. (AFFC, Jaime V)

This paragraph pretty much sums it up. Young Jaime found the Tully sisters to be attractive; he thought Lysa was pretty, but he was only legitimately attracted to Catelyn (we’ll dive into that later on). And yet, he ignored them both to chat up their uncle—who is quite likely to be gay himself, but that’s another topic. 

Now obviously, this wasn’t written to have non-hetero subtext or connotations—GRRM wanted to stress that Jaime hero-worshipped Brynden because of his fighting prowess and achievements on the battlefield, so much so that he ignored two pretty girls, even one he was actually attracted to, in order to speak with said hero. 

But… the phrasing and wording of it all:

Her older sister had seemed more interesting […] but at that age, no girl interested Jaime half so much as Hoster’s famous brother. […] At table he had ignored poor Lysa, whilst pressing Brynden Tully for tales of Maelys the Monstrous and the Ebon Prince.

He ignored Lysa, a pretty girl, and Catelyn, the girl he was actually into, because no girl was more interesting than Brynden Tully. What a way to phrase that, right.

But that was pre-canon. What does Jaime think about Brynden currently?

[Brynden] Tully had a craggy face, deeply lined and windburnt beneath a shock of stiff grey hair, but Jaime could still see the great knight who had once enthralled a squire with tales of the Ninepenny Kings. (AFFC Jaime VI)

Enthralled. Do you know how strong of a word that is?

Let’s have Merriam-Webster define it:

Enthrall: to hold spellbound; charm  

To hold spellbound. Jaime was spellbound by Brynden Tully. Charmed.

What an intense adjective to describe a teen’s hero worship. It’s a word with heavy romantic connotations to it, far more appropriate to describe an infatuation, or romantic relationship. You’d think GRRM would save such language for describing Jaime’s feelings for Cersei, but no, GRRM used it for Brynden. LOL. Out of all the words GRRM could use to describe Jaime’s attachment to Brynden, that’s the one he chose? And we’re not supposed to read that as homoerotic? Byeeeeee

So, to revise Jaime’s recollection concerning the time he ignored the Tully sisters to chat up their uncle: no girl was more interesting than Brynden Tully, the knight who Jaime was enthralled by.  

Still not seeing it? Let’s look at the whole line:

[…] but Jaime could still see the great knight who had once enthralled a squire with tales of the Ninepenny Kings. 

Jaime can still see the knight who had enthralled his teenaged self. So you could say that if he still sees that man, even now, that means that he is… still enthralled by Brynden. Still spellbound. Still… charmed. 

And can we talk about the whole paragraph?

Tully had a craggy face, deeply lined and windburnt beneath a shock of stiff grey hair, but Jaime could still see the great knight who had once enthralled a squire with tales of the Ninepenny Kings.

That’s a medieval way of saying “Yeah you got older, but you’re still a snack.” 

Like. Jaime really out here saying that Brynden Tully has aged like fine wine. How hetero of him. 

Also, haha, I looked up “craggy,”—the word Jaime used to describe Brynden’s face—on my computer’s dictionary, and, WELL:

BAHAHAHAHAHA Jaime: He’s old and rugged but in a SEXY way I mean have you ever SEEN a silver fox like this

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA

So, revising again: No girl was more interesting to Jaime than Brynden Tully, the ruggedly attractive knight who Jaime was, and arguably still is, enthralled by.

You can’t get any straighter than that, I’d say. And somehow, when you breakdown Jaime’s relationship Arthur Dayne, it only gets straighter. 

Jaime and Arthur Dayne (or, symbolic virginity loss, ghosts living in Jaime’s head rent free, and putting a ring cloak on it)

Arthur Dayne is the second honorcrush of Jaime’s, but the most vital. As the man who knighted Jaime and mentored him, Arthur Dayne is Jaime’s ultimate symbol for honor and the zenith of knighthood, and imperative to Jaime’s characterization and story. 

He’s also the one who provides us with a shit ton of homoeroticism in Jaime’s chapters, even years after his death, as Jaime thinks about him all the time. 

And he’d held his own against the Smiling Knight, though it was Ser Arthur who slew him. What a fight that was, and what a foe. The Smiling Knight was a madman, cruelty and chivalry all jumbled up together, but he did not know the meaning of fear. And Dayne, with Dawn in hand … The outlaw’s longsword had so many notches by the end that Ser Arthur had stopped to let him fetch a new one. “It’s that white sword of yours I want,” the robber knight told him as they resumed, though he was bleeding from a dozen wounds by then. “Then you shall have it, ser,” the Sword of the Morning replied, and made an end of it. (ASOS, Jaime VIII)

Jaime reminisces about the first time he spent time with Arthur, when they fought the Smiling Knight and his goons. Similarly to Jaime’s memories of Brynden, most of the language Jaime uses can be read as romantic in tone, or flowery. 

First, we have this:

What a fight that was, and what a foe.

Jaime is in awe of Arthur’s skill in battle. It reminds me of this:

Jaime had done many wicked things, but the man could fight! (AFFC, Brienne I)

Here, you could say Brienne is the young Jaime to a seasoned Jaime’s Arthur—expressing admiration for a more experienced warrior’s fighting skills in a dreamy or fangirlish manner. And while that’s true, we can’t forget the other connotations here. Considering the fact that Brienne is very much in love with Jaime—and so, any admiration she’d have for him is laced with sexual and romantic attraction—to have these lines be so similar does no favors for the “Jaime is straight,” narrative GRRM thought he wrote.

Jaime goes on:

And Dayne, with Dawn in hand…

This line is quite dreamy—you can practically hear Jaime fangirl sigh while thinking it. Dreamy is the only way to describe it; you even have the ellipsis to seal the deal. An ellipsis, a tool writers use to show a character is lost for words. Again, language. A writer isn’t going to put an ellipsis for no reason, especially in inner monologue. The ellipsis also implies that Jaime is stopping himself from full blown waxing poetic tributes about Arthur—showing restraint, living in denial, as a repressed bisexual or gay man from a medieval society might. 

While thinking of Arthur on the battlefield, at his best—and, by a warrior’s standards, his most beautiful—Jaime is lost for words. Lost for words, while reminiscing of Arthur, and how amazing he looked on the battlefield, holding his sword, Dawn. 

Swords. Something we know is constantly used as a euphemism for penises in GRRM’s writing. It wasn’t supposed to be one here, but, hey, with the dreamlike, fangirly energy exuding from this line, it does come to mind. 

Now, to this:

The outlaw’s longsword had so many notches by the end that Ser Arthur had stopped to let him fetch a new one. "It’s that white sword of yours I want,“ the robber knight told him as they resumed, though he was bleeding from a dozen wounds by then. "Then you shall have it, ser,” the Sword of the Morning replied, and made an end of it.

Jaime has full recollection of a scene and conversation he wasn’t even a part of from almost twenty years ago. Such a fixation, especially in fiction, is used to demonstrate a character’s fanboyism, yes (and that’s what GRRM was going for here, as well as showing that an older Jaime, in his trauma and bitterness, longs for what he considers the good old days, and is recollecting these events through a nostalgic lens) but more often than not, fixations such as this are usually reserved for romantic imagery. Jaime remembers how well Arthur won the battle by describing all the wounds the Smiling Knight had, and the Smiling Knight’s dialogue is remembered only to give Arthur’s witty reply context in Jaime’s mind. Every word and sight is preserved within Jaime’s memory to keep Arthur exalted as some angelic figure who remains pure, untainted, legendary, and unyielding in maintaining honor.

And if Arthur is an angelic figure, Jaime is his acolyte. Like an overzealous worshipper, Jaime sees Arthur’s state of being (or rather, the state of being Jaime believes him to have) as the standard so much that it’s gotten to the point of wanting to be him. And because that standard is impossible, he fails constantly. He uses the pedestal he has placed Arthur on to put himself down—remind him of how far he has fallen:

And me, that boy I was … when did he die, I wonder? When I donned the white cloak? When I opened Aerys’s throat? That boy had wanted to be Ser Arthur Dayne, but someplace along the way he had become the Smiling Knight instead. (ASOS, Jaime VIII)

And even years after Arthur’s death, Jaime craves his approval:

He wondered what Ser Arthur Dayne would have to say of this lot. “How is it that the Kingsguard has fallen so low,” most like. “It was my doing,” I would have to answer. “I opened the door, and did nothing when the vermin began to crawl inside.” (ASOS, Jaime VIII)

Postmortem, Arthur has Jaime’s undying love, his loyalty, his worship. 

He also has Jaime’s symbolic virginity.

It had been years since his last vigil. And I was younger then, a boy of fifteen years. He had worn no armor then, only a plain white tunic. The sept where he’d spent the night was not a third as large as any of the Great Sept’s seven transepts. Jaime had laid his sword across the Warrior’s knees, piled his armor at his feet, and knelt upon the rough stone floor before the altar. When dawn came his knees were raw and bloody. “All knights must bleed, Jaime,” Ser Arthur Dayne had said, when he saw. “Blood is the seal of our devotion.” With dawn he tapped him on the shoulder; the pale blade was so sharp that even that light touch cut through Jaime’s tunic, so he bled anew. He never felt it. A boy knelt; a knight rose. The Young Lion, not the Kingslayer. (AFFC, Jaime I)

In vivid, romantic detail, with the most sensual tone and flowery language possible, Jaime tells us of his knighting, not too long after he and Arthur defeated the Kingswood Brotherhood. And these details are brimming with sexual and romantic imagery, even marriage symbolism.

First, the setting. Jaime was knighted in a sept, a Westerosi church. In our own world, most weddings are held in churches. The setting fuels the marriage imagery here, and is its backbone. 

Then we get to Jaime’s appearance. He is wearing white. White, the color of purity; a color associated with virginity in Western societies. Since Jaime was knighted before he had sex with Cersei in that inn on Eel Alley, it’s possible that Jaime was literally a virgin, here—as, considering how important Eel Alley is to Jaime, it seems that that was the first time he and Cersei went all the way, so that means that most likely, Jaime was literally and metaphorically a virgin at the time of his knighting. Either way, in a knightly sense, Jaime is a virgin, as he is about to become one and receive his title.

White is also the color most brides wear to their weddings—in our world, at least. The imagery reminds the reader of the traditions in our own world, whether or not it’s one in Westeros. So, by wearing white in a church, Jaime looks the part of someone about to be married. A virgin, awaiting their wedding ceremony. 

Onto the actual knighting, where the sexual and marriage imagery intertwines. During a knighting, vows are made, just as vows are made during a wedding. The vows are similar—both make promises of loyalty, honesty, faithfulness, and most importantly, devotion. And Jaime is devoted to Arthur—he literally spends hours upon hours on his knees, awaiting Arthur’s arrival. He knelt so long that his knees bled open. Arthur even makes the blood symbolize he and Jaime’s bond, saying that blood is “the seal of their devotion.” 

And that seal works in a pure manner as much as a carnal one. The image of staying on one’s knees for someone evokes both religious and sexual imagery. When most people pray, they do it on their knees… but, there’s also another reason someone would stay on their knees so long they’ve bled for someone—if they’re giving oral sex. 

The religious imagery of bleeding knees while praying checks out. Jaime does worship Arthur, in a way, far more than he does the actual gods of the Seven. Symbolism for praying to show Jaime’s respect for knighthood, and especially Arthur, fits well, but also stresses his love for Arthur. 

And the sexual imagery, well. Let’s look at the line in question:

When dawn came his knees were raw and bloody.

Arthur’s sword is named Dawn. Swords are metaphorical penises in ASOIAF more often than not. And dawn came. While Jaime was on his knees. So long that his knees had bled. Yeah. Read in a different light, that sentence can mean something way more explicit than intended.

Obviously, in the sentence itself, the dawn being referred to is the literal dawn—sunrise. But again, double speak. And if you combine this with all of the sexual imagery up next, it only becomes more potent.

So, Arthur knights Jaime. Let’s look at that quote closer:

When dawn came his knees were raw and bloody. “All knights must bleed, Jaime,” Ser Arthur Dayne had said, when he saw. “Blood is the seal of our devotion.” With dawn he tapped him on the shoulder; the pale blade was so sharp that even that light touch cut through Jaime’s tunic, so he bled anew. He never felt it. A boy knelt; a knight rose.

Arthur has Dawn wielded, and he uses it to knight Jaime. He is gentle when he touches Jaime with the sword, only using “a light touch,” and tries not to hurt Jaime, but Dawn is so sharp that it penetrates through Jaime’s clothes and skin anyway. When looked through the “sword = penis” lens, Arthur’s actions symbolize a man gently taking his lover’s virginity. 

The lost virginity metaphor resides in the cut itself. Jaime’s white tunic—white, the color of virgins and purity, the color of brides—is slashed by Dawn’s gentle touch, and his shoulder bleeds. Blood that is most likely virginal in a literal sense, but most certainly in a metaphorical one, as it bleeds through torn white clothing, and the blood belongs to one who has just become a knight, something he hadn’t been before. 

Jaime also describes his wound from Dawn’s cut as “bleeding anew.” This evokes the imagery of one becoming undone in a physical and spiritual sense, one where the person in question has transcended beyond describable feeling. It’s like a religious awakening, which coincides with the worship aspect Jaime has toward Arthur and knighthood—but also an orgasm, especially one experienced by someone who has never had one before (and Jaime is that someone, in this case, as he’s either a virgin, or at least sexually inexperienced). That sense of euphoria continues with Jaime’s lack of awareness with the cut itself—he is in so much awe of what is happening that he never even felt the pain of the cut. 

And after the state of becoming anew—which you could say is the afterglow of the knighting, the virginity loss—Jaime says this:

A boy knelt; a knight rose.

After being penetrated with Arthur’s sword, and bleeding through his white tunic, he is no longer a boy. He is a knight—an adult. A man. In Westeros, people refer to male teens—boys—losing their virginities as them “becoming a man.” That Jaime sees himself as becoming a man after bleeding from Arthur Dayne’s metaphorical penis’ cut only supports the sexual undertones of lost virginity. 

I’d also like to point out that Arthur calls Jaime by his first name here—not “my lord.” This is vital. In this society, the highborn do not call each other by their first name unless there is a closeness between them, an intimacy, be it a platonic or romantic one. Considering the gentleness on display on Arthur’s part here, that he calls Jaime by his name shows the trust they share, specifically Jaime’s love and trust in Arthur, and Arthur’s respect of that love and trust. It only further shapes the imagery of a man gently taking someone’s virginity with someone he is close with.

In terms of imagery, Jaime’s knighting is not unlike his swordfight with Brienne, which was filled with double-speak, marriage symbolism, and sexual innuendos. Just as Arthur cuts Jaime’s white virginal tunic with his symbolic penis, so does Jaime cut Brienne’s inner thigh with his symbolic penis:

His point scraped past her parry and bit into her upper thigh. A red flower blossomed, and Jaime had an instant to savor the sight of her blood […] (ASOS, Jaime III)

Both young Jaime and Brienne’s virginal blood spill at the cuts, and in both instances, Jaime is enthralled by the bleeding. With Brienne’s blood, he “savors the sight,” and with his own bloodshed he is so lost in wonderment that he “never felt” the cut.

It’s both hilarious and beautiful that there are so many parallels with Jaime’s knighting by Arthur to the sex and marriage metaphor that masquerades as Jaime’s swordfight with Brienne. Brienne, who is Jaime’s canonical love interest. Like. GRRM legit wrote Jaime to have similar sexual and romantic scenarios and imagery with his female love interest… and a man. You can’t do that and just not expect me to see Jaime’s bisexual energy. You just can’t. The fact that both scenes work so well and are emotionally evocative just makes the whole thing even better.

Yep. With exaltation years after death, and the symbolization of marriage and lost virginity, Jaime and Arthur have a dynamic that is sensual, strong, devoted, and, most importantly for this meta—lacking heterosexuality.

Jaime and Rhaegar Targaryen (or, “Notice me, senpai!” plus way too detailed reminiscing) 

Jaime’s crush on Rhaegar isn’t as prolific as the other dynamics listed in this analysis, but I still find it worth noting. Jaime respected Prince Rhaegar, and feels tremendous guilt over not being able to save him or his children, Rhaenys and Aegon. 

But there’s a bit of a crush energy to Jaime’s views on Rhaegar. Here’s Jaime’s memory of the last time he and Rhaegar ever spoke.

The day had been windy when he said farewell to Rhaegar, in the yard of the Red Keep. The prince had donned his night-black armor, with the three-headed dragon picked out in rubies on his breastplate. “Your Grace,” Jaime had pleaded, “let Darry stay to guard the king this once, or Ser Barristan. Their cloaks are as white as mine.” 

Prince Rhaegar shook his head. “My royal sire fears your father more than he does our cousin Robert. He wants you close, so Lord Tywin cannot harm him. I dare not take that crutch away from him at such an hour.”

Jaime’s anger had risen up in his throat. “I am not a crutch. I am a knight of the Kingsguard.”

“Then guard the king,” Ser Jon Darry snapped at him. “When you donned that cloak, you promised to obey.”

Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “When this battle’s done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but … well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return." 

Those were the last words Rhaegar Targaryen ever spoke to him. Outside the gates an army had assembled, whilst another descended on the Trident. So the Prince of Dragonstone mounted up and donned his tall black helm, and rode forth to his doom. (AFFC, Jaime I)

What catches the eye is the immense detail. Just like Jaime’s memories of Arthur—whom we know he thirsted for—every single detail of Rhaegar is immortalized in Jaime’s brain—what Rhaegar wore, what the weather was like, exactly what was said. And it makes sense for Jaime to remember all of this so vividly—the Rebellion was an incredibly traumatizing time for Jaime, and it was the last time he ever saw Rhaegar alive. 

At the same time, we have things like Jaime remembering that Rhaegar touched him, as well as his appearance. It’s relatively innocuous things to remember so vividly without a hint of romantic connotations being there, and as such, probably wouldn’t stand out in JonCon’s recollections of Rhaegar, who was definitely in love with him. 

There’s also the matter of Jaime begging Rhaegar to take him with him to battle. Jaime was understandably eager to get away from Aerys, but I think he also wanted nothing more than to protect Rhaegar, the prince that he loved and respected. The prince he wished he was king. 

This particular line should be noted:

"Your Grace,” Jaime had pleaded, “let Darry stay to guard the king this once, or Ser Barristan. Their cloaks are as white as mine.” 

Jaime calls Rhaegar “Your Grace,” the title meant for kings or queens, not princes. It’s a strange thing, and, to my knowledge, no prince or princess is ever called “Your Grace,” in the entire series besides this one instance. It’s most likely author error, as Jaime outwardly calling Rhaegar by the king’s title is open treason, but in universe, it works at least for Jaime’s character. He sees Rhaegar as his king, and he wants to leave with him—maybe even die with him.

We also get a bit of “Notice me, senpai!” energy from the “their cloaks are as white as mine,” line. Jaime wants to prove his worth as a Kingsguard, but he also wants Rhaegar to see him. For someone who isn’t a weeb and, therefore, isn’t familiar with that trope (which seems to be more prevalent in anime than Western media) the connotation wouldn’t click, but for me… I don’t know, it just has that tone of the subordinate wanting their dreamy superior to take an interest in them. 

Either way, on its own, Jaime’s loyalty and oddly vivid memory of Rhaegar is standard hero worship, but when you combine it with everything else in this meta, it’s worth mentioning, and doesn’t come off as straight as it’s meant to be. 

Jaime and Ned Stark (or, villainous dick on the hero’s chest feat. obsession and boyfriend envy)

Jaime and Ned were a thing. On Jaime’s end, especially—and by that, I mean that Jaime is fucking obsessed with the guy. Ned lives in Jaime’s head rent free almost as much as Main Honor Boyfriend Arthur does.

Well, thanks! I understand gravitating initially more towards POVs like Arya and Tyrion, who at least partially see through the lies of the chivalric tropes undergirding the feudal power structures. (Partially, I emphasize.) But for me, Sansa is the best POV in AGOT because her early chapters provide such a ravishing image of the world through the eyes of someone who takes the songs 100% seriously. That’s what makes the fall from grace that is that first book’s primary subject (from Bran’s very literal fall forward) work so well. You need the Hand’s Tourney to start out “better than the songs,” or it doesn’t mean anything when Ser Hugh dies and Sansa reflects that no songs will be sung of him. By the time you get to her final chapter in AGOT, it’s so damn clear what GRRM is going for with her character:

Sansa stared at him, seeing him for the first time. He was wearing a padded crimson doublet patterned with lions and a cloth-of-gold cape with a high collar that framed his face. She wondered how she could ever have thought him handsome. His lips were as soft and red as the worms you found after a rain, and his eyes were vain and cruel. “I hate you,” she whispered.   

She has learned the truth: a padded crimson doublet and a cloth-of-gold cape don’t make you a hero, which has implications for both the social structure (in that all this wealth and power is orbiting around a sadistic child who just cut off Dad’s head) and the chivalric worldview (in that the imagery falling apart here bolstered that worldview earlier in the book). Sansa is literally seeing the world anew, and she has to start off in a bubble for that to qualify as an arc.

She still after so many books has not have moments of plot agency apart form saving Dontos and the ones with the wolves and the informing Cersei that resulted in many fans hating her, and had been just observing and used by other people. And while she is young she is still older than Arya and Bran who have more immedeatelly harder time with starving and prison camp and a handicap and a pretty much slowly loosing everything of old life.

And what does Sansa do? To invoke Cinderella here: ’have courage and be kind’. She indeed reaches out to Sandor even when he’s threatening her and dares to tell “Tyrion she might never want him to touch her”; speaks out for Ser Dontos; persuades Joffrey to not kill the woman before the riot; shows incredible courage during the BOTB through dealing with Cersei, calming the women when Cersei flees, and helping Lancel Lannister despite him mocking her before all the court; risks death by telling the truth about Joffrey because she cares about Margaery; courageously doesn’t kneel during her wedding but then feels sorry for her captor and tries to make it up; showing kindness to Kevan, Lancel, Lord Gyles, Jalabhar Xo, etc. during Joffrey’s wedding; continues to feel sorry for Margaery even when the Tyrells drop her like a hot potato; feels sorry for Joffrey when he dies; and shows bravery when fleeing that scene. 

People look at that and somehow conclude that she was ‘passive’. That she didn’t stand up to her abusers. That she should’ve killed them and escape (like, how?). To all of those people I’d like to very nicely say to 1. read the books again and 2. just go screw yourselves. What Sansa did in King’s Landing was survive. To paraphrase Melissa Grey on Cinderella here (again): Sansa is in the process of surviving abuse, and the whole narrative of ‘she should’ve stood up to them’ is incredibly damaging and hurtful because it puts the blame on the victim herself. That’s not how abuse works. It’s never on the victim to somehow stop the abuser. 

Samwell I - A feast for Crows

And

Jon II - A dance with dragons

Brienne: Podrick, could you start setting up camp. I have to sort these two out first.

Pod: er, ok Ser.

I think we can all do with some reminding.

Huevember - Day 27.

“Lysa had been a pretty girl, in truth; dimpled and delicate, with long auburn hair. Timid, though. Prone to tongue-tied silences and fits of giggles, with none of Cersei’s fire. Her older sister had seemed more interesting, though Catelyn was promised to some northern boy, the heir of Winterfell …”

“Tyrion turned back to his siblings. Twins, male and female. They looked very much the part this morning. Both had chosen a deep green that matched their eyes. Their blond curls were all a fashionable tumble, and gold ornaments shone at wrists and fingers and throats.”

[…Jaime made his way around the pool, then removed his cloak and lie it across the damp snow and leaves. When he sat, Lyuk sprawled beside him, warm and heavy, resting his massive head in Jaime’s lap.

A slow wind picked up, and the leaves rustled. A smile tripped across his lips, and finally, he could breathe deeply.

Resting on his cloak, he dozed, and he dreamed he sat on the branch of an old, giant weirwood… ]

Chapter 12: Winterfell of  "Life and Honor"