Post by moiaf on Feb 24, 2017 22:25:30 GMT -5
izzue , khaella , blisscraft
While have a discussion on another thread a noticed something new about the HOTU. The MUSIC Dany hears when she first meets the Undying and how they DANCE when they are burning.
Now, why did I quote this giant ass wall of text? Because 1. it ties in with the blue heart imagery you pointed out below and 2. what happens to Dany here is a warm up for when it's time to face the Others.
Look at the description of them when Dany first encounters them, beautiful and elegant, sort of like Will describes the Others in the series prologue. But when you really look at them, they are death personified blue and rotting. The heart that floats in the middle of the table, the heart that gives them life, is swollen with corruption. They are wholly blue from their skin to the whites of their eyes.
And when they get near Dany and start to try and consume the fire and life within her she feels that cold that emanates from them. They are cold and blue, their lips and nails are so dark they are almost black, like a certain wight that we know. It's so obvious that this is connected to the Others but it's done in such a subtle way that many people miss the connection.
I want to note a few other things that are not related to this general discussion but still interesting.
When Dany first encounters the Undying the most beautiful music she's ever heard is playing and as she is leaving the Undying are dancing as the flames consume them. I don't think the use of these terms is a coincidence. Martin is clearly associating the Undying to the general "Song" as they serve as a substitute for the Others.
Also, want to note that Dany's heart stopped until Drogon breath fire to destroy the blue rotting heart.
ETA: I just realized that in the visions the word song is used. Wut!
While have a discussion on another thread a noticed something new about the HOTU. The MUSIC Dany hears when she first meets the Undying and how they DANCE when they are burning.
Beyond the doors was a great hall and a splendor of wizards. Some wore sumptuous robes of ermine, ruby velvet, and cloth of gold. Others fancied elaborate armor studded with gemstones, or tall pointed hats speckled with stars. There were women among them, dressed in gowns of surpassing loveliness. Shafts of sunlight slanted through windows of stained glass, and the air was alive with the most beautiful music she had ever heard.
...
A long stone table filled this room. Above it floated a human heart, swollen and blue with corruption, yet still alive. It beat, a deep ponderous throb of sound, and each pulse sent out a wash of indigo light. The figures around the table were no more than blue shadows. As Dany walked to the empty chair at the foot of the table, they did not stir, nor speak, nor turn to face her. There was no sound but the slow, deep beat of the rotting heart.
… mother of dragons … came a voice, part whisper and part moan … dragons … dragons … dragons … other voices echoed in the gloom.
Some were male and some female. One spoke with the timbre of a child. The floating heart pulsed from dimness to darkness. It was hard to summon the will to speak, to recall the words she had practiced so assiduously. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.” Do they hear me? Why don’t they move? She sat, folding her hands in her lap. “Grant me your counsel, and speak to me with the wisdom of those who have conquered death.”
Through the indigo murk, she could make out the wizened features of the Undying One to her right, an old old man, wrinkled and hairless. His flesh was a ripe violet-blue, his lips and nails bluer still, so dark they were almost black. Even the whites of his eyes were blue. They stared unseeing at the ancient woman on the opposite side of the table, whose gown of pale silk had rotted on her body. One withered breast was left bare in the Qartheen manner, to show a pointed blue nipple hard as leather.
She is not breathing. Dany listened to the silence. None of them are breathing, and they do not move, and those eyes see nothing. Could it be that the Undying Ones were dead?
Her answer was a whisper as thin as a mouse’s whisker. … we live … live … live … it sounded. Myriad other voices whispered echoes. … and know … know … know … know …
“I have come for the gift of truth,” Dany said. “In the long hall, the things I saw … were they true visions, or lies? Past things, or things to come? What did they mean?”
… the shape of shadows … morrows not yet made … drink from the cup of ice … drink from the cup of fire …
... lots of visions later...
They wanted her, needed her, the fire, the life, and Dany gasped and opened her arms to give herself to them …
But then black wings buffeted her round the head, and a scream of fury cut the indigo air, and suddenly the visions were gone, ripped away, and Dany’s gasp turned to horror. The Undying were all around her, blue and cold, whispering as they reached for her, pulling, stroking, tugging at her clothes, touching her with their dry cold hands, twining their fingers through her hair. All the strength had left her limbs. She could not move. Even her heart had ceased to beat. She felt a hand on her bare breast, twisting her nipple. Teeth found the soft skin of her throat. A mouth descended on one eye, licking, sucking, biting …
Then indigo turned to orange, and whispers turned to screams. Her heart was pounding, racing, the hands and mouths were gone, heat washed over her skin, and Dany blinked at a sudden glare. Perched above her, the dragon spread his wings and tore at the terrible dark heart, ripping the rotten flesh to ribbons, and when his head snapped forward, fire flew from his open jaws, bright and hot. She could hear the shrieks of the Undying as they burned, their high thin papery voices crying out in tongues long dead.
Their flesh was crumbling parchment, their bones dry wood soaked in tallow. They danced as the flames consumed them; they staggered and writhed and spun and raised blazing hands on high, their fingers bright as torches.
...
A long stone table filled this room. Above it floated a human heart, swollen and blue with corruption, yet still alive. It beat, a deep ponderous throb of sound, and each pulse sent out a wash of indigo light. The figures around the table were no more than blue shadows. As Dany walked to the empty chair at the foot of the table, they did not stir, nor speak, nor turn to face her. There was no sound but the slow, deep beat of the rotting heart.
… mother of dragons … came a voice, part whisper and part moan … dragons … dragons … dragons … other voices echoed in the gloom.
Some were male and some female. One spoke with the timbre of a child. The floating heart pulsed from dimness to darkness. It was hard to summon the will to speak, to recall the words she had practiced so assiduously. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.” Do they hear me? Why don’t they move? She sat, folding her hands in her lap. “Grant me your counsel, and speak to me with the wisdom of those who have conquered death.”
Through the indigo murk, she could make out the wizened features of the Undying One to her right, an old old man, wrinkled and hairless. His flesh was a ripe violet-blue, his lips and nails bluer still, so dark they were almost black. Even the whites of his eyes were blue. They stared unseeing at the ancient woman on the opposite side of the table, whose gown of pale silk had rotted on her body. One withered breast was left bare in the Qartheen manner, to show a pointed blue nipple hard as leather.
She is not breathing. Dany listened to the silence. None of them are breathing, and they do not move, and those eyes see nothing. Could it be that the Undying Ones were dead?
Her answer was a whisper as thin as a mouse’s whisker. … we live … live … live … it sounded. Myriad other voices whispered echoes. … and know … know … know … know …
“I have come for the gift of truth,” Dany said. “In the long hall, the things I saw … were they true visions, or lies? Past things, or things to come? What did they mean?”
… the shape of shadows … morrows not yet made … drink from the cup of ice … drink from the cup of fire …
... lots of visions later...
. . . three heads has the dragon . . .
the ghost chorus yammered inside her skull with never a lip moving, never a breath stirring the still blue air
. . . . mother of dragons . . . child of storm . . . The whispers became a swirling song. . . .
the ghost chorus yammered inside her skull with never a lip moving, never a breath stirring the still blue air
. . . . mother of dragons . . . child of storm . . . The whispers became a swirling song. . . .
But then black wings buffeted her round the head, and a scream of fury cut the indigo air, and suddenly the visions were gone, ripped away, and Dany’s gasp turned to horror. The Undying were all around her, blue and cold, whispering as they reached for her, pulling, stroking, tugging at her clothes, touching her with their dry cold hands, twining their fingers through her hair. All the strength had left her limbs. She could not move. Even her heart had ceased to beat. She felt a hand on her bare breast, twisting her nipple. Teeth found the soft skin of her throat. A mouth descended on one eye, licking, sucking, biting …
Then indigo turned to orange, and whispers turned to screams. Her heart was pounding, racing, the hands and mouths were gone, heat washed over her skin, and Dany blinked at a sudden glare. Perched above her, the dragon spread his wings and tore at the terrible dark heart, ripping the rotten flesh to ribbons, and when his head snapped forward, fire flew from his open jaws, bright and hot. She could hear the shrieks of the Undying as they burned, their high thin papery voices crying out in tongues long dead.
Their flesh was crumbling parchment, their bones dry wood soaked in tallow. They danced as the flames consumed them; they staggered and writhed and spun and raised blazing hands on high, their fingers bright as torches.
Look at the description of them when Dany first encounters them, beautiful and elegant, sort of like Will describes the Others in the series prologue. But when you really look at them, they are death personified blue and rotting. The heart that floats in the middle of the table, the heart that gives them life, is swollen with corruption. They are wholly blue from their skin to the whites of their eyes.
And when they get near Dany and start to try and consume the fire and life within her she feels that cold that emanates from them. They are cold and blue, their lips and nails are so dark they are almost black, like a certain wight that we know. It's so obvious that this is connected to the Others but it's done in such a subtle way that many people miss the connection.
I want to note a few other things that are not related to this general discussion but still interesting.
When Dany first encounters the Undying the most beautiful music she's ever heard is playing and as she is leaving the Undying are dancing as the flames consume them. I don't think the use of these terms is a coincidence. Martin is clearly associating the Undying to the general "Song" as they serve as a substitute for the Others.
Also, want to note that Dany's heart stopped until Drogon breath fire to destroy the blue rotting heart.
ETA: I just realized that in the visions the word song is used. Wut!