reading adwd for the first time and the lost lord is one of the most upsetting asoiaf chapters i’ve read so far. joncon’s story is essentially not his story, right. it’s the story of the son of the man he loved, and also, ultimately, a story about hiding. joncon disguises himself, and faegon, lemore and tyrion—all for a greater purpose of getting young griff onto the iron throne. but we also see how he hides things that serve no purpose at all—save keeping him from being utterly alone. joncon’s story as a gay man is hinted subtly (as most queer identities in asoiaf are) but the lost lord does not shy away from how much he loved the men he’s lost (rhaegar and myles) and how much he feels responsible for both their deaths (despite it not really being his fault at all). it’s hard for him to deal with the impotence those tragedies project into him, so he takes control back by blaming himself. he can’t control who he loves, either. that ought to be his fault, too. and now he’s sick with a thing, an evil that’ll take control of his limbs and his lungs and his heart. utter madness as the fate for someone so adamant on affirming their control. that’s brutal. that’s insane.
greyscale as a disease usually reminds me much more of leprosy in terms of symptoms but in the specific context of jon connington’s story, the hiv allegory feels very intentional. how cruel to see griff blame himself for his lovers’ deaths. how monstrous to have him see the skull of a friend hanging from the walls when he knows he doesn’t have much time left. he counts the months and years. he grabs the pieces the men he loved left behind when they fell apart. two years. time enough to cross the sea as myles toyne dreamt. maybe five. time enough to put rhaegar’s son upon the iron throne. some stone men live for ten. yeah, of course jon connington wears gloves. it’s the greyscale, obviously. but also that he’s gay and angry and grieving. because he’s trying to bury every single one of these things down. it’s because of rhaegar and myles and loss and loneliness, too. being surrounded by community and not really belonging to it.
