Robert had been jesting with Jon and old Lord Hunter as the prince circled the field after unhorsing Ser Barristan in the final tilt to claim the champion’s crown. Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty’s laurel in Lyanna’s lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost.
- Eddard XV, aGoT
Upper row: Horton Redfort, Jon Arryn, Robert Baratheon, Eon Hunter
Middle row: Brandon Stark, Lyanna Stark, Benjen Stark, Ned Stark
Lower row: Jon Connington, Arthur Dayne, Ashara Dayne, Elia Martell
When the Knight of Flowers made his entrance, a murmur ran through the crowd, and he heard Sansa’s fervent whisper, “Oh, he’s so beautiful.” - - -
Sansa clutched at his arm. “Father, don’t let Ser Gregor hurt him,” she said. Ned saw she was wearing the rose that Ser Loras had given her yesterday. Jory had told him about that as well.
Ned turned back. Robert took up his horn again, filled it with beer from a barrel in the corner, and thrust it at Ned. “Drink,” he said brusquely.
“I’ve no thirst—”
“Drink. Your king commands it.”
Ned took the horn and drank. The beer was black and thick, so strong it stung the eyes.
-A Game of Thrones - Eddard VII
The queen took a flagon of sweet plum wine from a passing serving girl and filled Sansa’s cup. “Drink,” she commanded coldly. “Perhaps it will give you the courage to deal with truth for a change.”
Sansa lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip. The wine was cloyingly sweet, but very strong.
Interpretation of this personal sigil: The supporters are a grey direwolf for House Stark, and the black crowned stag of House Baratheon (with blue eyes), symbolizing Ned’s friendship with King Robert. The white field (for House Stark) is slightly divided by a jagged line with blue above it, which gives it the appearance of mountains – which may symbolize the northern mountains of Ned’s maternal grandmother’s House Flint, or the Red Mountains of Dorne where the Tower of Joy was located. (Edit: or, as @purplefishies007 suggested, the Vale mountains where Ned was fostered with Jon Arryn and became friends with Robert.) The main section contains two direwolves facing each other, which may be a reference to the fact that both of Ned’s parents were of House Stark. Above them is a gold hand, probably symbolizing Ned’s appointment as Hand of the King. (See also these classic symbolic ASOIAF artworks, favorites of mine.) Between them is a blue rose, for Ned’s sister Lyanna and her son Jon Snow. The crest is a grey direwolf head for House Stark, atop a silver knight’s helm for members of the nobility. And the compartment is weirwood branches for House Stark, the same as all the artist’s designs for these Stark family personal sigils.
Nice analysis!
I add: The direwolf is tongueless in reference to his nickname “the quiet wolf”, and the secret he hides.
The direwolves are two because Ned is a second child and somehow feels he has usurped the role for which Brandon was born. The outline of the mountains looming over the rose reminds me of the phrase:
“Kings are a rare sight in the north”. Robert snorted “More likely they were hiding in the snow. Snow, Ned!”
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Dumb doodle bc somehow I developed a fear of drawing on marker paper so I can’t use my markers (without killing them) so have some Ned, Robb and Jon in pencil and ink pen or something
“What in the seven hells is it?” Greyjoy was saying.
“A wolf,” Robb told him.
“A freak,” Greyjoy said. “Look at the size of it.”
…Half-burried in bloodstained snow, a huge dark shape slumped in death…
“It’s no freak,” Jon said calmly. “That’s a direwolf. They grow larger than the other kind.”
Theon Greyjoy said, “There’s not been a direwolf sighted south of the Wall in two hundred years.”
“I see one now,” Jon replied.
Bran tore his eyes away from the monster. That was when he noticed the bundle in Robb’s arms. He gave a cry of delight and moved closer. The pup was a tiny ball of grey-black fur, its eyes still closed… “Go on,” Robb told him. “You can touch him.”
Bran gave the pup a quick nervous stroke, then turned as Jon said, “Here you go.” His half brother put a second pup into his arms. “There are five of them.”
“Direwolves loose in the realm, after so many years,” muttered Hullen, the master of horse. “I like it not.”
“It is a sign,” Jory said.
Father frowned. “This is only a dead animal, Jory,” he said… “Do we know what killed her?”
“There’s something in the throat,” Robb told him, proud to have found the answer before his father even asked. “There, just under the jaw.”
His father knelt and groped under the beast’s head with his hand. He gave a yank and held it up for all to see. A foot of shattered antler, tines snapped off, all wet with blood.
A sudden silence descended over the party… Even Bran could sense their fear, though he did not understand.
His father tossed the antler to the side and cleansed his hands in the snow. “I’m surprised she lived long enough to whelp,” he said…
“Maybe she didn’t,” Jory said. “I’ve heard tales… maybe the bitch was already dead when the pups came.”
…“No matter,” said Hullen. “They be dead soon enough too.”
Bran gave a wordless cry of dismay.
“The sooner the better,” Theon Greyjoy agreed. He drew his sword. “Give the beast here, Bran.”
…“No!” Bran cried out fiercely. “It’s mine.”
“Put away your sword, Greyjoy,” Robb said. For a moment he sounded as commanding as their father, like the lord he would someday be. “We will keep these pups.”
“You cannot do that, boy,” said Harwin, who was Hullen’s son.
“It be a mercy to kill them,” Hullen said.
Bran looked to his lord father for rescue, but got only a frown, a furrowed brow. “Hullen speaks truly, son. Better a swift death than a hard one from cold and starvation.”
“No!” He could feel tears welling in his eyes, and he looked away. He did not want to cry in front of his father.
Robb resisted stubbornly. “Ser Rodrik’s red bitch whelped again last week,” he said. “It was a small litter only two live pups. She’ll have milk enough.”
“She’ll rip them apart when they try to nurse.”
“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”
“What of it, Jon?”
“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”
Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.
Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.
“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.”
Their lord father regarded Jon thoughtfully. Robb rushed into the silence he left. “I will nurse him myself, Father,” he promised. “I will soak a towel with warm milk, and give him suck from that.”
“Me too!” Bran echoed.
The lord weighed his sons long and carefully with his eyes. “Easy to say, and harder to do. I will not have you wasting the servants’ time with this. If you want these pups, you will feed them yourselves. Is that understood?”
Bran nodded eagerly…
“You must train them as well,” their father said. “You must train them. The kennelmaster will have nothing to do with these monsters, I promise you that. And the gods help you if you neglect them, or brutalize them, or train them badly. These are not dogs to beg for treats and slink off at a kick. A direwolf will rip a man’s arm off his shoulder as easily as a dog will kill a rat. Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes, Father,” Bran said.
“Yes,” Robb agreed.
“Keep them, then. Jory, Desmond, gather up the other pups. It’s time we were back to Winterfell.”
…Halfway across the bridge, Jon pulled up suddenly.
“What is it, Jon?” their lord father asked.
“Can’t you hear it?”
“There,” Jon said… “He must have crawled away from the others.”
“Or been driven away, their father said, looking at the sixth pup. His fur was white, where the rest of the litter was grey. His eyes were as red as the blood of the ragged man who died that morning. Bran thought it curious that this pup alone would have opened his eyes while the others were still blind.
"An albino,” Theon Greyjoy said with wry amusement. “This one will die even faster than the others.”
Jon Snow gave his father’s ward a long, chilling look. “I think not, Greyjoy,” he said. “This one belongs to me.”
“Yes, Father,” Bran told him…“Rob said the man died bravely, but Jon says he was afraid.”
“What do you think?”
Bran thought about it. “Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?”
“That is the only time a man can be brave,” his father told him. “Do you understand why I did it?”
“He was a wildling,” Bran said. “They carry of women and sell them to the Others.”
His lord father smiled. “Old Nan has been telling you stories again. In truth, the man was an oathbreaker, a deserter from the Night’s Watch. No man is more dangerous. The deserter knows his life is forfeit if he is taken, so he will not flinch from any crime, no matter how vile. But you mistake me. The question was not why the man had to die, but why I must do it.”
Bran had no answer for that. “King Robert has a headman,” he said, uncertainly.
“He does,” his father admitted. “As did the Targaryen kings before him. Yet our way is the older way. The blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man’s life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.
"One day, Bran, you will be Robb’s bannerman, holding a keep of your own for your brother and your king, and justice will fall to you. When that day comes, you must take no pleasure in the task, but neither must you look away. A ruler who hides behind paid executioners soon forgets what death is.”
my favourite thing about jon possibly having a targaryen name is that when lyanna told ned he was probs like ‘… ok sis that’s cool but…. how the fuck am i meant to hide jahaerys jacarys jalapeno the third from robert with that name?’
The family name has German origin, means ‘strong’.
◆ Eddard / Ned:
Variation of the EnglishnameEdward, meaning ‘wealthy guardian’.
◆Catelyn:
Irishvariant of Caitlin/Caitlín also the version of Catherine (Greek origin) and means ‘pure’.
◆Jon:
This name is a shortened form of the name Jonathan/John, has Hebrew, Greek and Latin originsand means ‘God has given / God has pardoned / gift of Jehovah (God)’. Jón is also an old Norse common name still widely used in Iceland and the Faröe Islands.
◆Robb:
Abbreviation of the Germanic name (Hrodebert)Robert, means ‘famed; bright; shining’.
◆Sansa:
The name Sansa has Sanskritorigin and means ‘praise, invocation, charm’. Sansa is also similar to the LatinnameSancia which means ‘sacred’.
◆Arya:
The name Arya is an Unisex-name and means ‘friend, faithful’ in its Persian origin. The Sanskrit origin is ‘noble’. Arya was derived from an Indo-Iranian word meaning ‘noble’ or ‘Aryan’, ‘Lioness’ in Hebrew.
◆ Bran / Brandon:
The name has Celtic origins, it is either a variant of the Irishmasculine given name, Breandán, or descended from the Old WelshnameBrân, meaning ‘crow / raven’.
◆ Rickon:
The name is based on the old German name Ricard. It’s composed from the elements rík, rīc (power, ruler) and hard (strong, brave, hardy); hence, the ‘brave ruler’.
◆ Lyanna:
The meaning of the name LyannahasHebrew origin and means ‘God has answered’. In PersianLyanna means ‘the girl who has a beautiful face’.
◆ Benjen:
The name is based on the HebraicnameBenjamin which means ‘son of the right hand’.
◆ Rickard:
Just like the name Rickon,Rickard is another variation of the old GermannameRicard, meaning ‘brave ruler’.
◆Winterfell:
The capital of the Kingdom of the North has German originand meanswinter coat / winter fur.
