Everything about that scene is so sensuous! It’s one of my favorite moments in the whole series so, obviously, I’ve read it a million times and, the more I read it, the less innocent it got.
Of course, I’ve been thinking all this time that it was me and my dirty mind and my wish to see Jon and Arya together in the future (and the knowledge that GRRM had planned it that way fueled my will) but now I’m thinking that maybe it isn’t just me.
Let’s deconstruct the whole scene, shall we? (And, Lady Bee, your insight and wisdom would be much appreciated).
Arya was in her room, packing a polished ironwood chest that was bigger than she was. Nymeria was helping. Arya would only have to point, and the wolf would bound across the room, snatch up some wisp of silk in her jaws, and fetch it back. But when she smelled Ghost, she sat down on her haunches and yelped at them.
During the whole series I’ve always thought that the direwolves mean something special, that each one of them is a symbol and that they represent something bigger to each Stark. (For example, Lady’s death could also mean the impending death of Sansa’s innocence. Bran choosing to name his direwolf Summer could mean that, in the future, it will be Bran the one to bring summer back to Westeros. Ghost as a foreshadowing of Jon’s death and possible revival. Nymeria, a conquering queen, a parallel to Arya’s future, and so on).
With that in mind, I think that sentence is very important, specially complemented with this one right here:
They arrived, flushed and breathless, to find Jon seated on the sill, one leg drawn up languidly to his chin. He was watching the action, so absorbed that he seemed unaware of her approach until his white wolf moved to meet them. Nymeria stalked closer on wary feet. Ghost, already larger than his litter mates, smelled her, gave her ear a careful nip, and settled back down.
Ghost and Nymeria’s familiarity with each other and the stress the author makes on it, the relationship the direwolves have. We don’t see this with the other ones, and the mention of that simple action is unnecessary… unless, of course, GRRM wants us to think something by it.
Arya glanced behind her, saw Jon, and jumped to her feet. She threw her skinny arms tight around his neck. “I was afraid you were gone,” she said, her breath catching in her throat. “They wouldn’t let me out to say good-bye.”
We see it with the direwolves, now we see it with themselves. The familiarity, the affection, how comfortable they are with physical contact.
“What did you do now?” Jon was amused.
Arya disentangled herself from him and made a face. “Nothing. I was all packed and everything.” She gestured at the huge chest, no more than a third full, and at the clothes that were scattered all over the room. “Septa Mordane says I have to do it all over. My things weren’t properly folded, she says. A proper southron lady doesn’t just throw her clothes inside her chest like old rags, she says.”
“Is that what you did, little sister?”
“Well, they’re going to get all messed up anyway,” she said. “Who cares how they’re folded?”
“Septa Mordane,” Jon told her. “I don’t think she’d like Nymeria helping, either.” The she-wolf regarded him silently with her dark golden eyes. “It’s just as well. I have something for you to take with you, and it has to be packed very carefully.”
Her face lit up. “A present?”
“You could call it that. Close the door.”
Am I the only one who got like, “Ooooh, Jon, what are you doing?” right here? It feels so intimate and private and mysterious. GRRM could’ve built this scene in a hundred different ways, yet he chose this one.
There’s this present, but we don’t know what it is. Since Jon parts way with Robb, the writing builds expectation for this present and the first information we get about it? It’s forbidden so they have to close the door.
The way this is written it’s everything but innocent.
Wary but excited, Arya checked the hall. “Nymeria, here. Guard.” She left the wolf out there to warn of intruders and closed the door. By then Jon had pulled off the rags he’d wrapped it in. He held it out to her.
The idea is reinforced. It’s so secretive, they need someone to guard the door. If the ages were different, older, I’m sure the reader’s first thought would’ve been something of sexual nature.
And, I’m saying it again because I feel it’s very important: there’s no need for this scene to be written like this, with that sensuous undertone… yet it is. And as a writer, I can’t help but think this is deliberate.
Arya’s eyes went wide. Dark eyes, like his. “A sword,” she said in a small, hushed breath.
The scabbard was soft grey leather, supple as sin. Jon drew out the blade slowly, so she could see the deep blue sheen of the steel. “This is no toy,” he told her. “Be careful you don’t cut yourself. The edges are sharp enough to shave with.”
Lady Bee made an excellent point on this already.
“Girls don’t shave,” Arya said.
“Maybe they should. Have you ever seen the septa’s legs?”
I read an analysis about this line in a forum of awoiaf.westeros.org so I’m quoting:
Interesting is also their short exchange about women shaving. Aside that it shows how open are Jon and Arya with each other including bad jokes and deeply personal and awkward topics, I believe it have other layers to it. It could be nod to Arya shaving her head later (first as the Blind Beth IIRC) but it could be also read as a slight sexual undertone. Shaving (aside of shaving head) is connected to sexual maturity. Judging by Cersei’s second ADwD chapter Westerosi women almost surely do not shave any part of their bodies but in RW in culture GRRM comes from most women do, so do Novrosi women and it would not surprise me if it was a case in Braavos especially among courtesans. (x)
And with that I rest my case about that particular line because I wholeheartedly agree.
She giggled at him. “It’s so skinny.”
“So are you,” Jon told her. “I had Mikken make this special. The bravos use swords like this in Pentos and Myr and the other Free Cities. It won’t hack a man’s head off, but it can poke him full of holes if you’re fast enough.”
This one could possibly be my more far-fetched thought but I’m still mentioning it: They are talking about Arya’s body. So unnecessary, I think, to the narrative but it’s there (and there must be a reason). Plus, a shout-out to Jon’s thoughts about Arya being skinny (including the comparison with Ygritte) throughout the books.
“I can be fast,” Arya said.
“You’ll have to work at it every day.” He put the sword in her hands, showed her how to hold it, and stepped back. “How does it feel? Do you like the balance?”
Physical contact. Must mention.
“First lesson,” Jon said. “Stick them with the pointy end.”
Arya gave him a whap on the arm with the flat of her blade. The blow stung, but Jon found himself grinning like an idiot. “I know which end to use,” Arya said. A doubtful look crossed her face. “Septa Mordane will take it away from me.”
This description feels very romantic, don’t you think? “Like an idiot” it’s a must reaction when talking about romance, it’s a giveaway and it’s almost a cliché in literature. Acting like an idiot it’s directly related to being in love and falling in love and how love makes us lose our judgement.
“Not if she doesn’t know you have it,” Jon said.
“Who will I practice with?”
“You’ll find someone,” Jon promised her. “King’s Landing is a true city, a thousand times the size of Winterfell. Until you find a partner, watch how they fight in the yard. Run, and ride, make yourself strong. And whatever you do…”
Arya knew what was coming next. They said it together. “…don’t… tell… Sansa!”
Again, reinforcing the idea of the secrecy and how this action is forbidden and, in Lady Bee’s words: “It’s a way to show us how intimately he knows her desires and he’s not only understanding about them, he indulges them. The whole scene is about sharing a secret. They are doing something that’s not proper […]”
Jon messed up her hair. “I will miss you, little sister.”
Suddenly she looked like she was going to cry. “I wish you were coming with us.”
“Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle. Who knows?” He was feeling better now. He was not going to let himself be sad. “I better go. I’ll spend my first year on the Wall emptying chamber pots if I keep Uncle Ben waiting any longer.”
Arya ran to him for a last hug. “Put down the sword first,” Jon warned her, laughing. She set it aside almost shyly and showered him with kisses.
A kiss, the biggest sign of love. Again: The familiarity, the affection, how comfortable they are with physical contact.
And, please, this isn’t as sisterly as some people want to make it seem. I have a brother (two, actually, but I have my favourite) and I love him to death but I dont “shower him with kisses”. Not even when I was little and I used to follow him around everywhere. I don’t know siblings, not even one pair of siblings, that feels comfortable kissing each other’s faces. You only do it when your mother tells you to: “Say goodbye to your brother. Oh, come oooooon, give him a kiss” and you are like: “ugh, fine.” But, by choice? Nope.
When he turned back at the door, she was holding it again, trying it for balance. “I almost forgot,” he told her. “All the best swords have names.”
“Like Ice,” she said. She looked at the blade in her hand. “Does this have a name? Oh, tell me.”
“Can’t you guess?” Jon teased. “Your very favorite thing.”
Arya seemed puzzled at first. Then it came to her. She was that quick. They said it together:
The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north.
I think this one is self-explanatory. Because, please, interesting choice of words.
I quoted the whole scene so more people could join in the analysis and share their thoughts with maybe different lines that I didn’t use.
I really think this scene, this very, very important scene, is everything but completely innocent.
