Three Shadows in Bran's Vision (Updated)
Apr 18, 2016 0:41:39 GMT
SlyWren, whitewolfstark, and 1 more like this
Post by voice on Apr 18, 2016 0:41:39 GMT
I've read several threads, as well as the essay at the Citadel, that deal with Bran's Vision in AGOT Bran III and have yet to see someone else suggest my own belief regarding the identities of the shadows Bran sees around Eddard, Sansa, and Arya when they're stopped at the Trident on their way to KL.
Bran III, AGOT (chapter 17)
It seemed as though he had been falling for years.
Fly, a voice whispered in the darkness, but Bran did not know how to fly, so all he could do was fall.
Maester Luwin made a little boy of clay, baked him till he was hard and brittle, dressed him in Bran's clothes, and flung him off a roof. Bran remembered the way he shattered. "But I never fall," he said, falling.
The ground was so far below him he could barely make it out through the grey mists that whirled around him, but he could feel how fast he was falling, and he knew what was waiting for him down there. Even in dreams, you could not fall forever. He would wake up in the instant before he hit the ground, he knew. You always woke up in the instant before you hit the ground.
And if you don't? the voice asked.
The ground was closer now, still far far away, a thousand miles away, but closer than it had been. It was cold here in the darkness. There was no sun, no stars, only the ground below coming up to smash him, and the grey mists, and the whispering voice. He wanted to cry.
Not cry. Fly.
"I can't fly," Bran said. "I can't, I can't . . . "
How do you know? Have you ever tried?
The voice was high and thin. Bran looked around to see where it was coming from. A crow was spiraling down with him, just out of reach, following him as he fell. "Help me," he said.
I'm trying, the crow replied. Say, got any corn?
Bran reached into his pocket as the darkness spun dizzily around him. When he pulled his hand out, golden kernels slid from between his fingers into the air. They fell with him.
The crow landed on his hand and began to eat.
“Are you really a crow?” Bran asked.
Are you really falling? the crow asked back.
“It’s just a dream,” Bran said.
Is it? asked the crow.
“I’ll wake up when I hit the ground,” Bran told the bird.
You’ll die when you hit the ground, the crow said. It went back to eating corn. Bran looked down. He could see mountains now, their peaks white with snow, and the silver thread of rivers in dark woods. He closed his eyes and began to cry.
That won’t do any good, the crow said. I told you, the answer is flying, not crying. How hard can it be? I’m doing it. The crow took to the air and flapped around Bran’s hand.
“You have wings,” Bran pointed out.
Maybe you do too.
Bran felt along his shoulders, groping for feathers.
There are different kinds of wings, the crow said.
Bran was staring at his arms, his legs. He was so skinny, just skin stretched taut over bones. Had he always been so thin? He tried to remember. A face swam up at him out of the grey mist, shining with light, golden. “The things I do for love,” it said.
Bran screamed.
The crow took to the air, cawing. Not that, it shrieked at him. Forget that, you do not need it now, put it aside, put it away. It landed on Bran’s shoulder, and pecked at him, and the shining golden face was gone.
Bran was falling faster than ever. The grey mists howled around him as he plunged toward the earth below. "What are you doing to me?" he asked the crow, tearful.
Teaching you how to fly.
"I can't fly!"
You're flying right now.
"I'm falling!"
Every flight begins with a fall, the crow said. Look down.
"I'm afraid . . . "
LOOK DOWN!
Bran looked down, and felt his insides turn to water. The ground was rushing up at him now. The whole world was spread out below him, a tapestry of white and brown and green. He could see everything so clearly that for a moment he forgot to be afraid. He could see the whole realm, and everyone in it.
He saw Winterfell as the eagles see it, the tall towers looking squat and stubby from above, the castle walls just lines in the dirt. He saw Maester Luwin on his balcony, studying the sky through a polished bronze tube and frowning as he made notes in a book. He saw his brother Robb, taller and stronger than he remembered him, practicing swordplay in the yard with real steel in his hand. He saw Hodor, the simple giant from the stables, carrying an anvil to Mikken's forge, hefting it onto his shoulder as easily as another man might heft a bale of hay. At the heart of the godswood, the great white weirwood brooded over its reflection in the black pool, its leaves rustling in a chill wind. When it felt Bran watching, it lifted its eyes from the still waters and stared back at him knowingly.
He looked east, and saw a galley racing across the waters of the Bite. He saw his mother sitting alone in a cabin, looking at a bloodstained knife on a table in front of her, as the rowers pulled at their oars and Ser Rodrik leaned across a rail, shaking and heaving. A storm was gathering ahead of them, a vast dark roaring lashed by lightning, but somehow they could not see it.
He looked south, and saw the great blue-green rush of the Trident. He saw his father pleading with the king, his face etched with grief. He saw Sansa crying herself to sleep at night, and he saw Arya watching in silence and holding her secrets hard in her heart. There were shadows all around them. One shadow was dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound. Another was armored like the sun, golden and beautiful. Over them both loomed a giant in armor made of stone, but when he opened his visor, there was nothing inside but darkness and thick black blood.
He lifted his eyes and saw clear across the narrow sea, to the Free Cities and the green Dothraki sea and beyond, to Vaes Dothrak under its mountain, to the fabled lands of the JadeSea, to Asshai by the Shadow, where dragons stirred beneath the sunrise.
Finally he looked north. He saw the Wall shining like blue crystal, and his bastard brother Jon sleeping alone in a cold bed, his skin growing pale and hard as the memory of all warmth fled from him. And he looked past the Wall, past endless forests cloaked in snow, past the frozen shore and the great blue-white rivers of ice and the dead plains where nothing grew or lived. North and north and north he looked, to the curtain of light at the end of the world, and then beyond that curtain. He looked deep into the heart of winter, and then he cried out, afraid, and the heat of his tears burned on his cheeks.
Now you know, the crow whispered as it sat on his shoulder. Now you know why you must live.
"Why?" Bran said, not understanding, falling, falling.
Because winter is coming.
I included a large part of Bran's Vision in the quote above because I think it is important to understand the context in which GRRM places the Shadows. Bran is seeing different, yet specific, places in the world at present, not several years (or books) into the future. While there are many prophetic elements to absorb, the scenes and individuals he sees are all as they exist in the present moment. As his body lies motionless abed, eyes wide and seeing nothing in the cold tower at Winterfell, his consciousness takes a journey, viewing the world from above. He is not looking into the future, or the past, rather he sees the deeper truths in current affairs - and people.
I'll refer to the shadows all around his father and sisters as Shadow #1 (dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound), Shadow #2 (armored like the sun, golden and beautiful), and Shadow #3 (a giant in armor made of stone, with nothing inside his visor but darkness and thick black blood).
Main shadow-identity theories, from the Citadel:
The ash-dark shadow with the face of a hound is obviously the Hound, Sandor Clegane. The figure in golden armor must then be the Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister. The giant in armor made of stone has been discussed a little more, however. There are three main possibilities: Robert Baratheon, Tywin Lannister, or Gregor Clegane, the Mountain that Rides. (full essay: www.westeros.org/Citadel/Prophecies/Entry/1791/)
Another plausible candidate offered in forum comments for Shadow #2 is Joffrey.
There are also some great arguments made for Ser Gregor, unGregor/Robert Stone, being Shadow #3 (even though his metamorphosis does not occur for several books/years into the future, he is not at the Trident with the Starks, and never plays a large role in their character arcs).
Another popular suspect for Shadow #3 is Littlefinger due to the Giant of Braavos being associated with his ancestral heraldry, his role as puppetmaster looming over KL, and the bloody game in which he uses the Starks so often.
But here's the problem with the Mountain and LF, they're no where near the Trident when Bran sees the shadows around his father and sisters. As stated, he is viewing people and locations at present, not conflicts (or mad-maester Qyburn's science experiments) yet to come, and this all occurs at the time of Lady's death sentencing at the blue-green rush as his father pleads with the king. Also, LF does not fit with the pattern GRRM has laid out in the vision - the first shadow is not described in armor, while the second and third are. This leads me to think the first is not a knight (he is "no Ser"), and that the other two are indeed anointed knights. It is often mentioned in ASOIAF and D&E that usually only knights wear armor. So that rules out LF as Shadow #3.
Shadow #1 dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound
I think people have been a little too literal in their interpretations of the shadows. While the Hound has burn scars on half his face, he is not ash-dark in color. And though he is scarred, his face still looks like a human man, not a hound. Yes, yes, I know he has a helm fashioned in the shape of a dog's head, but I don't think Bran is having a literal vision of his helm. Alas, he doesn't describe Shadow #1 as having armor at all. He sees through to the inner character of each shadow, and he sees that one was abused/burned, brutal but loyal, and does not make his own decisions.
So yes, I agree Shadow #1 is the Hound, Sandor Clegane.
Shadow #2 "armored like the sun, golden and beautiful"
The second shadow is not wearing "golden armor" as the Citadel mistakenly claims above. Rather, "he was armored like the sun, golden and beautiful." I think that is an important distinction that must be made. At a moment such as this, experiencing supreme spiritual clarity, why would Bran see Jaime or Joffrey as bright as the sun and beautiful?
Remember, he is not simply witnessing physical appearances in his spirit-flight, he is seeing through the facade and understanding characters' inner intentions.
In conclusion, Shadow #2 is Ser Barristan Selmy. The only remaining true steel knight of the King's Guard, the kind of true knight Bran once wished to become. His honor shines as brilliantly as the sun in Bran's eyes.
Shadow #3 "loomed a giant in armor made of stone, but when he opened his visor, there was nothing inside but darkness and thick black blood"
This seems to be the shadow with the most possible identities in the threads I have read. For me, this can only be Ser Ilyn Payne. He's the one that lept to mind on my first reread, and now that I'm reading AGOT for the fifth time, it can only be him.
He looms over the others as a giant because he is an unflinching threat to Lady (and Bran) at the moment, and he represents the darkness and blood awaiting Ned.
Armor made of stone... because he is hard, cold, and silent.
And there's nothing inside his visor but darkness and thick black blood due to the countless murders he has 'seen to', and soon he will 'see to' the death of the father of House Stark. Like Sansa, Bran sees darkness, death and blood in Ser Ilyn, and rightly so. Bran may even sense his own imminent death in Ser Ilyn.
In the passage below (the chapter just before Bran's Vision), we see the moment firsthand from Eddard's POV that Bran is seeing simultaneously while learning to fly in the very next chapter - Ned pleads with the king and the presence of all three Shadows are felt.
Eddard III, AGOT (chapter 16)
Bear in mind that this is all happening just before Bran awakens. I subscribe to the theory that the sacrifice of Lady in some way pays for Bran's life. Three shadows surround this event and his life depends on it. The Hound is fetching for his master, Ser Barristan senses the ill being done, and Ser Ilyn is evoked to send the Direwolf to darkness. If Cersei had succeeded, and Ser Ilyn had been the one to 'see to Lady' I believe Bran would have remained in his unconscious state. They are of the North, and the pain Eddard felt as he took Lady's life was necessary or it wouldn't have been a sacrifice, and Bran would still be dreaming or dead.
Here's further mention of who I believe are the three Shadows, from Sansa's POV (the chapter just before Ned and Bran's above):
Sansa I, AGOT (chapter 15)
Update:
Let us recap. Here are all of the identified entities, with their identities and locations given in black bold when folks seem to agree they are in situ, and marked in red bold when it's been argued the identified entity is someplace other than where Bran sees them:
1. Winterfell Paragraph - Maester Luwin on his balcony, studying the sky through a polished bronze tube and frowning as he made notes in a book
2. Winterfell Paragraph - Robb Stark taller and stronger than he remembered him, practicing swordplay in the yard with real steel in his hand
3. Winterfell Paragraph - Hodor the simple giant from the stables, carrying an anvil to Mikken's forge, hefting it onto his shoulder as easily as another man might heft a bale of hay
4. Winterfell Paragraph - "the heart of the godswood" the great white weirwood brooded over its reflection in the black pool, its leaves rustling in a chill wind. When it felt Bran watching, it lifted its eyes from the still waters and stared back at him knowingly
5. Narrow Sea Paragraph - Catelyn Stark sitting alone in a cabin, looking at a bloodstained knife on a table in front of her, as the rowers pulled at their oars
6. Narrow Sea Paragraph - Ser Rodrik Cassel leaned across a rail, shaking and heaving
7. Narrow Sea Paragraph - "a storm" was gathering ahead of them, a vast dark roaring lashed by lightning, but somehow they could not see it
8. Trident Paragraph - Eddard Stark pleading with the king, his face etched with grief
9. Trident Paragraph - Sansa Stark crying herself to sleep at night
10. Trident Paragraph - Arya Stark watching in silence and holding her secrets hard in her heart
11. Trident Paragraph - "There were shadows" all around them
12. Trident Paragraph - "One Shadow" was dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound [The Hound, Sandor Clegane]
13. Trident Paragraph - "Another" [the second shadow] was armored like the sun, golden and beautiful
14. Trident Paragraph - "Over them both" [the third shadow] loomed a giant in armor made of stone, but when he opened his visor, there was nothing inside but darkness and thick black blood
15. Essos Paragraph - The Free Cities
16. Essos Paragraph - the green Dothraki sea
17. Essos Paragraph - Vaes Dothrak under its mountain [the Mother of Mountains]
18. Essos Paragraph - fabled lands of the Jade Sea
19. Essos Paragraph - Asshai by the Shadow
20. Essos Paragraph - dragons stirred beneath the sunrise
21. North Paragraph - the Wall shining like blue crystal
22. North Paragraph - Jon Snow sleeping alone in a cold bed, his skin growing pale and hard as the memory of all warmth fled from him
23. North Paragraph - "past the Wall" past endless forests cloaked in snow, past the frozen shore and the great blue-white rivers of ice and the dead plains where nothing grew or lived
24. North Paragraph - "North and north and north" he looked, to the curtain of light at the end of the world, and then beyond that curtain
25. North Paragraph - "the heart of winter" and then he cried out, afraid, and the heat of his tears burned on his cheeks
I argue that rather than 23 of these entities being in situ, with two exceptional anomolies, all 25 of them are in situ and that Bran witnesses them in real-time during his coma.
I believe Bran's "falling dream" is actually out of body spirit flight, conscious astral travel. It is a common element of witchcraft, animism, paganism, and shamanism. And, Bran is even accompanied by a spirit-helper - the Three-Eyed Crow.
Superimposed upon these real events and entities, Bran is able to see more than what only two eyes can comprehend. Rather than see in three dimensions (as one can do with two eyes), Bran is able to see in four - with the advent of his third eye.
This OP seems rather pointless, because, well, I left out the whole point of it. LOL
Tis the curse of a cryptic voice. So here goes an attempt to correct that....
If the shadows are at the Trident, and if indeed Bran is seeing things in realtime (with prophetic/spiritual laters added, of course), then the last few glimpses before he looks into the crow's third eye seem very important. Here they are:
I think that as one ventures north and north and north... one would eventually come upon a place behind a curtain of light in which Other/wight activity is as vibrant as it was during the Long Night.
I think Bran glimpsed a Starry Khalasar, Brandon the Builder, and his corpse khaleesi. Mere speculation of course, but I also suspect that BtB and his queen might have gotten freaky during Bran's spiritual voyeurism. Bran freaks out when thinking about Jaime, Cersei, and the two-backed beast.
I think GRRM's letter to his agent hints at something similar as well:
I think that in both books and show, cold legions of the undead had already been raised, long before the massacre at Hardhome. I think this is also what is meant by Cotter Pyke's 'dead things' in the woods and 'dead things' in the water. Hardhome=clusterfuck.
We see them prior to Hardhome in the V6 Prologue, and we see them on the show (breaking through gates).
I think the Others have been north and north and north beyond that curtain of light, preparing since the end of the original Long Night. They were only unable to venture southward (beyond that curtain of light) after its conclusion. ...Not to say that they weren't still recruiting, but I think their recruitment was limited to the extreme-polar region where only the most northron of wildings would have ventured.
I think that what enabled the Others' somewhat recent southron expeditions is the defeat of Dawn by a descendant of Bran the Builder. This occurred 17 years ago at the tower of joy, when Eddard of the House Stark disarmed Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, and killed him.
This was, a Battle for the Dawn:
Ned claimed the longsword 'Dawn', which is the original 'Ice' and caused the blue eyes of death (the Others) to blow across a blood-streaked sky (the red comet).
I look forward to your thoughts!
Bran III, AGOT (chapter 17)
It seemed as though he had been falling for years.
Fly, a voice whispered in the darkness, but Bran did not know how to fly, so all he could do was fall.
Maester Luwin made a little boy of clay, baked him till he was hard and brittle, dressed him in Bran's clothes, and flung him off a roof. Bran remembered the way he shattered. "But I never fall," he said, falling.
The ground was so far below him he could barely make it out through the grey mists that whirled around him, but he could feel how fast he was falling, and he knew what was waiting for him down there. Even in dreams, you could not fall forever. He would wake up in the instant before he hit the ground, he knew. You always woke up in the instant before you hit the ground.
And if you don't? the voice asked.
The ground was closer now, still far far away, a thousand miles away, but closer than it had been. It was cold here in the darkness. There was no sun, no stars, only the ground below coming up to smash him, and the grey mists, and the whispering voice. He wanted to cry.
Not cry. Fly.
"I can't fly," Bran said. "I can't, I can't . . . "
How do you know? Have you ever tried?
The voice was high and thin. Bran looked around to see where it was coming from. A crow was spiraling down with him, just out of reach, following him as he fell. "Help me," he said.
I'm trying, the crow replied. Say, got any corn?
Bran reached into his pocket as the darkness spun dizzily around him. When he pulled his hand out, golden kernels slid from between his fingers into the air. They fell with him.
The crow landed on his hand and began to eat.
“Are you really a crow?” Bran asked.
Are you really falling? the crow asked back.
“It’s just a dream,” Bran said.
Is it? asked the crow.
“I’ll wake up when I hit the ground,” Bran told the bird.
You’ll die when you hit the ground, the crow said. It went back to eating corn. Bran looked down. He could see mountains now, their peaks white with snow, and the silver thread of rivers in dark woods. He closed his eyes and began to cry.
That won’t do any good, the crow said. I told you, the answer is flying, not crying. How hard can it be? I’m doing it. The crow took to the air and flapped around Bran’s hand.
“You have wings,” Bran pointed out.
Maybe you do too.
Bran felt along his shoulders, groping for feathers.
There are different kinds of wings, the crow said.
Bran was staring at his arms, his legs. He was so skinny, just skin stretched taut over bones. Had he always been so thin? He tried to remember. A face swam up at him out of the grey mist, shining with light, golden. “The things I do for love,” it said.
Bran screamed.
The crow took to the air, cawing. Not that, it shrieked at him. Forget that, you do not need it now, put it aside, put it away. It landed on Bran’s shoulder, and pecked at him, and the shining golden face was gone.
Bran was falling faster than ever. The grey mists howled around him as he plunged toward the earth below. "What are you doing to me?" he asked the crow, tearful.
Teaching you how to fly.
"I can't fly!"
You're flying right now.
"I'm falling!"
Every flight begins with a fall, the crow said. Look down.
"I'm afraid . . . "
LOOK DOWN!
Bran looked down, and felt his insides turn to water. The ground was rushing up at him now. The whole world was spread out below him, a tapestry of white and brown and green. He could see everything so clearly that for a moment he forgot to be afraid. He could see the whole realm, and everyone in it.
He saw Winterfell as the eagles see it, the tall towers looking squat and stubby from above, the castle walls just lines in the dirt. He saw Maester Luwin on his balcony, studying the sky through a polished bronze tube and frowning as he made notes in a book. He saw his brother Robb, taller and stronger than he remembered him, practicing swordplay in the yard with real steel in his hand. He saw Hodor, the simple giant from the stables, carrying an anvil to Mikken's forge, hefting it onto his shoulder as easily as another man might heft a bale of hay. At the heart of the godswood, the great white weirwood brooded over its reflection in the black pool, its leaves rustling in a chill wind. When it felt Bran watching, it lifted its eyes from the still waters and stared back at him knowingly.
He looked east, and saw a galley racing across the waters of the Bite. He saw his mother sitting alone in a cabin, looking at a bloodstained knife on a table in front of her, as the rowers pulled at their oars and Ser Rodrik leaned across a rail, shaking and heaving. A storm was gathering ahead of them, a vast dark roaring lashed by lightning, but somehow they could not see it.
He looked south, and saw the great blue-green rush of the Trident. He saw his father pleading with the king, his face etched with grief. He saw Sansa crying herself to sleep at night, and he saw Arya watching in silence and holding her secrets hard in her heart. There were shadows all around them. One shadow was dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound. Another was armored like the sun, golden and beautiful. Over them both loomed a giant in armor made of stone, but when he opened his visor, there was nothing inside but darkness and thick black blood.
He lifted his eyes and saw clear across the narrow sea, to the Free Cities and the green Dothraki sea and beyond, to Vaes Dothrak under its mountain, to the fabled lands of the JadeSea, to Asshai by the Shadow, where dragons stirred beneath the sunrise.
Finally he looked north. He saw the Wall shining like blue crystal, and his bastard brother Jon sleeping alone in a cold bed, his skin growing pale and hard as the memory of all warmth fled from him. And he looked past the Wall, past endless forests cloaked in snow, past the frozen shore and the great blue-white rivers of ice and the dead plains where nothing grew or lived. North and north and north he looked, to the curtain of light at the end of the world, and then beyond that curtain. He looked deep into the heart of winter, and then he cried out, afraid, and the heat of his tears burned on his cheeks.
Now you know, the crow whispered as it sat on his shoulder. Now you know why you must live.
"Why?" Bran said, not understanding, falling, falling.
Because winter is coming.
I included a large part of Bran's Vision in the quote above because I think it is important to understand the context in which GRRM places the Shadows. Bran is seeing different, yet specific, places in the world at present, not several years (or books) into the future. While there are many prophetic elements to absorb, the scenes and individuals he sees are all as they exist in the present moment. As his body lies motionless abed, eyes wide and seeing nothing in the cold tower at Winterfell, his consciousness takes a journey, viewing the world from above. He is not looking into the future, or the past, rather he sees the deeper truths in current affairs - and people.
I'll refer to the shadows all around his father and sisters as Shadow #1 (dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound), Shadow #2 (armored like the sun, golden and beautiful), and Shadow #3 (a giant in armor made of stone, with nothing inside his visor but darkness and thick black blood).
Main shadow-identity theories, from the Citadel:
The ash-dark shadow with the face of a hound is obviously the Hound, Sandor Clegane. The figure in golden armor must then be the Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister. The giant in armor made of stone has been discussed a little more, however. There are three main possibilities: Robert Baratheon, Tywin Lannister, or Gregor Clegane, the Mountain that Rides. (full essay: www.westeros.org/Citadel/Prophecies/Entry/1791/)
Another plausible candidate offered in forum comments for Shadow #2 is Joffrey.
There are also some great arguments made for Ser Gregor, unGregor/Robert Stone, being Shadow #3 (even though his metamorphosis does not occur for several books/years into the future, he is not at the Trident with the Starks, and never plays a large role in their character arcs).
Another popular suspect for Shadow #3 is Littlefinger due to the Giant of Braavos being associated with his ancestral heraldry, his role as puppetmaster looming over KL, and the bloody game in which he uses the Starks so often.
But here's the problem with the Mountain and LF, they're no where near the Trident when Bran sees the shadows around his father and sisters. As stated, he is viewing people and locations at present, not conflicts (or mad-maester Qyburn's science experiments) yet to come, and this all occurs at the time of Lady's death sentencing at the blue-green rush as his father pleads with the king. Also, LF does not fit with the pattern GRRM has laid out in the vision - the first shadow is not described in armor, while the second and third are. This leads me to think the first is not a knight (he is "no Ser"), and that the other two are indeed anointed knights. It is often mentioned in ASOIAF and D&E that usually only knights wear armor. So that rules out LF as Shadow #3.
Shadow #1 dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound
I think people have been a little too literal in their interpretations of the shadows. While the Hound has burn scars on half his face, he is not ash-dark in color. And though he is scarred, his face still looks like a human man, not a hound. Yes, yes, I know he has a helm fashioned in the shape of a dog's head, but I don't think Bran is having a literal vision of his helm. Alas, he doesn't describe Shadow #1 as having armor at all. He sees through to the inner character of each shadow, and he sees that one was abused/burned, brutal but loyal, and does not make his own decisions.
So yes, I agree Shadow #1 is the Hound, Sandor Clegane.
Shadow #2 "armored like the sun, golden and beautiful"
The second shadow is not wearing "golden armor" as the Citadel mistakenly claims above. Rather, "he was armored like the sun, golden and beautiful." I think that is an important distinction that must be made. At a moment such as this, experiencing supreme spiritual clarity, why would Bran see Jaime or Joffrey as bright as the sun and beautiful?
Remember, he is not simply witnessing physical appearances in his spirit-flight, he is seeing through the facade and understanding characters' inner intentions.
In conclusion, Shadow #2 is Ser Barristan Selmy. The only remaining true steel knight of the King's Guard, the kind of true knight Bran once wished to become. His honor shines as brilliantly as the sun in Bran's eyes.
Shadow #3 "loomed a giant in armor made of stone, but when he opened his visor, there was nothing inside but darkness and thick black blood"
This seems to be the shadow with the most possible identities in the threads I have read. For me, this can only be Ser Ilyn Payne. He's the one that lept to mind on my first reread, and now that I'm reading AGOT for the fifth time, it can only be him.
He looms over the others as a giant because he is an unflinching threat to Lady (and Bran) at the moment, and he represents the darkness and blood awaiting Ned.
Armor made of stone... because he is hard, cold, and silent.
And there's nothing inside his visor but darkness and thick black blood due to the countless murders he has 'seen to', and soon he will 'see to' the death of the father of House Stark. Like Sansa, Bran sees darkness, death and blood in Ser Ilyn, and rightly so. Bran may even sense his own imminent death in Ser Ilyn.
In the passage below (the chapter just before Bran's Vision), we see the moment firsthand from Eddard's POV that Bran is seeing simultaneously while learning to fly in the very next chapter - Ned pleads with the king and the presence of all three Shadows are felt.
"We have a wolf," Cersei Lannister said. Her voice was very quiet, but her green eyes shone with triumph.
It took them all a moment to comprehend her words, but when they did, the king shrugged irritably. "As you will. Have Ser Ilyn see to it."
"Robert, you cannot mean this," Ned protested.
The king was in no mood for more argument. "Enough, Ned, I will hear no more. A direwolf is a savage beast. Sooner or later it would have turned on your girl the same way the other did on my son. Get her a dog, she'll be happier for it."
That was when Sansa finally seemed to comprehend. Her eyes were frightened as they went to her father. "He doesn't mean Lady, does he?" She saw the truth on his face. "No," she said. "No, not Lady, Lady didn't bite anybody, she's good . . . "
"Lady wasn't there," Arya shouted angrily. "You leave her alone!"
"Stop them," Sansa pleaded, "don't let them do it, please, please, it wasn't Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you can't, it wasn't Lady, don't let them hurt Lady, I'll make her be good, I promise, I promise . . . " She started to cry.
All Ned could do was take her in his arms and hold her while she wept. He looked across the room at Robert. His old friend, closer than any brother. "Please, Robert. For the love you bear me. For the love you bore my sister. Please."
The king looked at them for a long moment, then turned his eyes on his wife. "Damn you, Cersei," he said with loathing.
Ned stood, gently disengaging himself from Sansa's grasp. All the weariness of the past four days had returned to him. "Do it yourself then, Robert," he said in a voice cold and sharp as steel. "At least have the courage to do it yourself."
Robert looked at Ned with flat, dead eyes and left without a word, his footsteps heavy as lead. Silence filled the hall.
"Where is the direwolf?" Cersei Lannister asked when her husband was gone. Beside her, Prince Joffrey was smiling.
"The beast is chained up outside the gatehouse, Your Grace," Ser Barristan Selmy answered reluctantly.
"Send for Ilyn Payne."
"No," Ned said. "Jory, take the girls back to their rooms and bring me Ice." The words tasted of bile in his throat, but he forced them out. "If it must be done, I will do it."
Cersei Lannister regarded him suspiciously. "You, Stark? Is this some trick? Why would you do such a thing?"
They were all staring at him, but it was Sansa's look that cut. "She is of the north. She deserves better than a butcher."
He left the room with his eyes burning and his daughter's wails echoing in his ears, and found the direwolf pup where they chained her. Ned sat beside her for a while. "Lady," he said, tasting the name. He had never paid much attention to the names the children had picked, but looking at her now, he knew that Sansa had chosen well. She was the smallest of the litter, the prettiest, the most gentle and trusting. She looked at him with bright golden eyes, and he ruffled her thick grey fur.
Shortly, Jory brought him Ice.
When it was over, he said, "Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell."
"All that way?" Jory said, astonished.
"All that way," Ned affirmed. "The Lannister woman shall never have this skin."
He was walking back to the tower to give himself up to sleep at last when Sandor Clegane and his riders came pounding through the castle gate, back from their hunt.
There was something slung over the back of his destrier, a heavy shape wrapped in a bloody cloak. "No sign of your daughter, Hand," the Hound rasped down, "but the day was not wholly wasted. We got her little pet." He reached back and shoved the burden off, and it fell with a thump in front of Ned.
Bending, Ned pulled back the cloak, dreading the words he would have to find for Arya, but it was not Nymeria after all. It was the butcher's boy, Mycah, his body covered in dried blood. He had been cut almost in half from shoulder to waist by some terrible blow struck from above.
"You rode him down," Ned said.
The Hound's eyes seemed to glitter through the steel of that hideous dog's-head helm. "He ran." He looked at Ned's face and laughed. "But not very fast."
It took them all a moment to comprehend her words, but when they did, the king shrugged irritably. "As you will. Have Ser Ilyn see to it."
"Robert, you cannot mean this," Ned protested.
The king was in no mood for more argument. "Enough, Ned, I will hear no more. A direwolf is a savage beast. Sooner or later it would have turned on your girl the same way the other did on my son. Get her a dog, she'll be happier for it."
That was when Sansa finally seemed to comprehend. Her eyes were frightened as they went to her father. "He doesn't mean Lady, does he?" She saw the truth on his face. "No," she said. "No, not Lady, Lady didn't bite anybody, she's good . . . "
"Lady wasn't there," Arya shouted angrily. "You leave her alone!"
"Stop them," Sansa pleaded, "don't let them do it, please, please, it wasn't Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you can't, it wasn't Lady, don't let them hurt Lady, I'll make her be good, I promise, I promise . . . " She started to cry.
All Ned could do was take her in his arms and hold her while she wept. He looked across the room at Robert. His old friend, closer than any brother. "Please, Robert. For the love you bear me. For the love you bore my sister. Please."
The king looked at them for a long moment, then turned his eyes on his wife. "Damn you, Cersei," he said with loathing.
Ned stood, gently disengaging himself from Sansa's grasp. All the weariness of the past four days had returned to him. "Do it yourself then, Robert," he said in a voice cold and sharp as steel. "At least have the courage to do it yourself."
Robert looked at Ned with flat, dead eyes and left without a word, his footsteps heavy as lead. Silence filled the hall.
"Where is the direwolf?" Cersei Lannister asked when her husband was gone. Beside her, Prince Joffrey was smiling.
"The beast is chained up outside the gatehouse, Your Grace," Ser Barristan Selmy answered reluctantly.
"Send for Ilyn Payne."
"No," Ned said. "Jory, take the girls back to their rooms and bring me Ice." The words tasted of bile in his throat, but he forced them out. "If it must be done, I will do it."
Cersei Lannister regarded him suspiciously. "You, Stark? Is this some trick? Why would you do such a thing?"
They were all staring at him, but it was Sansa's look that cut. "She is of the north. She deserves better than a butcher."
He left the room with his eyes burning and his daughter's wails echoing in his ears, and found the direwolf pup where they chained her. Ned sat beside her for a while. "Lady," he said, tasting the name. He had never paid much attention to the names the children had picked, but looking at her now, he knew that Sansa had chosen well. She was the smallest of the litter, the prettiest, the most gentle and trusting. She looked at him with bright golden eyes, and he ruffled her thick grey fur.
Shortly, Jory brought him Ice.
When it was over, he said, "Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell."
"All that way?" Jory said, astonished.
"All that way," Ned affirmed. "The Lannister woman shall never have this skin."
He was walking back to the tower to give himself up to sleep at last when Sandor Clegane and his riders came pounding through the castle gate, back from their hunt.
There was something slung over the back of his destrier, a heavy shape wrapped in a bloody cloak. "No sign of your daughter, Hand," the Hound rasped down, "but the day was not wholly wasted. We got her little pet." He reached back and shoved the burden off, and it fell with a thump in front of Ned.
Bending, Ned pulled back the cloak, dreading the words he would have to find for Arya, but it was not Nymeria after all. It was the butcher's boy, Mycah, his body covered in dried blood. He had been cut almost in half from shoulder to waist by some terrible blow struck from above.
"You rode him down," Ned said.
The Hound's eyes seemed to glitter through the steel of that hideous dog's-head helm. "He ran." He looked at Ned's face and laughed. "But not very fast."
Eddard III, AGOT (chapter 16)
Bear in mind that this is all happening just before Bran awakens. I subscribe to the theory that the sacrifice of Lady in some way pays for Bran's life. Three shadows surround this event and his life depends on it. The Hound is fetching for his master, Ser Barristan senses the ill being done, and Ser Ilyn is evoked to send the Direwolf to darkness. If Cersei had succeeded, and Ser Ilyn had been the one to 'see to Lady' I believe Bran would have remained in his unconscious state. They are of the North, and the pain Eddard felt as he took Lady's life was necessary or it wouldn't have been a sacrifice, and Bran would still be dreaming or dead.
Here's further mention of who I believe are the three Shadows, from Sansa's POV (the chapter just before Ned and Bran's above):
"What's happening?" she asked a squire she knew.
"The council sent riders from King's Landing to escort us the rest of the way," he told her. "An honor guard for the king."
Anxious to see, Sansa let Lady clear a path through the crowd. People moved aside hastily for the direwolf. When she got closer, she saw two knights kneeling before the queen, in armor so fine and gorgeous that it made her blink.
One knight wore an intricate suit of white enameled scales, brilliant as a field of new-fallen snow, with silver chasings and clasps that glittered in the sun. When he removed his helm, Sansa saw that he was an old man with hair as pale as his armor, yet he seemed strong and graceful for all that. From his shoulders hung the pure white cloak of the Kingsguard.
His companion was a man near twenty whose armor was steel plate of a deep forest-green. He was the handsomest man Sansa had ever set eyes upon; tall and powerfully made, with jet-black hair that fell to his shoulders and framed a clean-shaven face, and laughing green eyes to match his armor. Cradled under one arm was an antlered helm, its magnificent rack shimmering in gold.
At first Sansa did not notice the third stranger. He did not kneel with the others. He stood to one side, beside their horses, a gaunt grim man who watched the proceedings in silence. His face was pockmarked and beardless, with deepset eyes and hollow cheeks. Though he was not an old man, only a few wisps of hair remained to him, sprouting above his ears, but those he had grown long as a woman's. His armor was iron-grey chainmail over layers of boiled leather, plain and unadorned, and it spoke of age and hard use. Above his right shoulder the stained leather hilt of the blade strapped to his back was visible; a two-handed greatsword, too long to be worn at his side.
"The king is gone hunting, but I know he will be pleased to see you when he returns," the queen was saying to the two knights who knelt before her, but Sansa could not take her eyes off the third man. He seemed to feel the weight of her gaze. Slowly he turned his head. Lady growled. A terror as overwhelming as anything Sansa Stark had ever felt filled her suddenly. She stepped backward and bumped into someone.
Strong hands grasped her by the shoulders, and for a moment Sansa thought it was her father, but when she turned, it was the burned face of Sandor Clegane looking down at her, his mouth twisted in a terrible mockery of a smile. "You are shaking, girl," he said, his voice rasping. "Do I frighten you so much?"
He did, and had since she had first laid eyes on the ruin that fire had made of his face, though it seemed to her now that he was not half so terrifying as the other. Still, Sansa wrenched away from him, and the Hound laughed, and Lady moved between them, rumbling a warning. Sansa dropped to her knees to wrap her arms around the wolf. They were all gathered around gaping, she could feel their eyes on her, and here and there she heard muttered comments and titters of laughter.
"A wolf," a man said, and someone else said, "Seven hells, that's a direwolf," and the first man said, "What's it doing in camp?" and the Hound's rasping voice replied, "The Starks use them for wet nurses," and Sansa realized that the two stranger knights were looking down on her and Lady, swords in their hands, and then she was frightened again, and ashamed. Tears filled her eyes.
She heard the queen say, "Joffrey, go to her."
And her prince was there.
"Leave her alone," Joffrey said. He stood over her, beautiful in blue wool and black leather, his golden curls shining in the sun like a crown. He gave her his hand, drew her to her feet. "What is it, sweet lady? Why are you afraid? No one will hurt you. Put away your swords, all of you. The wolf is her little pet, that's all." He looked at Sandor Clegane. "And you, dog, away with you, you're scaring my betrothed."
The Hound, ever faithful, bowed and slid away quietly through the press. Sansa struggled to steady herself. She felt like such a fool. She was a Stark of Winterfell, a noble lady, and someday she would be a queen. "It was not him, my sweet prince," she tried to explain. "It was the other one."
The two stranger knights exchanged a look. "Payne?" chuckled the young man in the green armor.
The older man in white spoke to Sansa gently. "Oft times Ser Ilyn frightens me as well, sweet lady. He has a fearsome aspect."
"As well he should." The queen had descended from the wheelhouse. The spectators parted to make way for her. "If the wicked do not fear the King's Justice, you have put the wrong man in the office."
Sansa finally found her words. "Then surely you have chosen the right one, Your Grace," she said, and a gale of laughter erupted all around her.
"Well spoken, child," said the old man in white. "As befits the daughter of Eddard Stark. I am honored to know you, however irregular the manner of our meeting. I am Ser Barristan Selmy, of the Kingsguard." He bowed.
"The council sent riders from King's Landing to escort us the rest of the way," he told her. "An honor guard for the king."
Anxious to see, Sansa let Lady clear a path through the crowd. People moved aside hastily for the direwolf. When she got closer, she saw two knights kneeling before the queen, in armor so fine and gorgeous that it made her blink.
One knight wore an intricate suit of white enameled scales, brilliant as a field of new-fallen snow, with silver chasings and clasps that glittered in the sun. When he removed his helm, Sansa saw that he was an old man with hair as pale as his armor, yet he seemed strong and graceful for all that. From his shoulders hung the pure white cloak of the Kingsguard.
His companion was a man near twenty whose armor was steel plate of a deep forest-green. He was the handsomest man Sansa had ever set eyes upon; tall and powerfully made, with jet-black hair that fell to his shoulders and framed a clean-shaven face, and laughing green eyes to match his armor. Cradled under one arm was an antlered helm, its magnificent rack shimmering in gold.
At first Sansa did not notice the third stranger. He did not kneel with the others. He stood to one side, beside their horses, a gaunt grim man who watched the proceedings in silence. His face was pockmarked and beardless, with deepset eyes and hollow cheeks. Though he was not an old man, only a few wisps of hair remained to him, sprouting above his ears, but those he had grown long as a woman's. His armor was iron-grey chainmail over layers of boiled leather, plain and unadorned, and it spoke of age and hard use. Above his right shoulder the stained leather hilt of the blade strapped to his back was visible; a two-handed greatsword, too long to be worn at his side.
"The king is gone hunting, but I know he will be pleased to see you when he returns," the queen was saying to the two knights who knelt before her, but Sansa could not take her eyes off the third man. He seemed to feel the weight of her gaze. Slowly he turned his head. Lady growled. A terror as overwhelming as anything Sansa Stark had ever felt filled her suddenly. She stepped backward and bumped into someone.
Strong hands grasped her by the shoulders, and for a moment Sansa thought it was her father, but when she turned, it was the burned face of Sandor Clegane looking down at her, his mouth twisted in a terrible mockery of a smile. "You are shaking, girl," he said, his voice rasping. "Do I frighten you so much?"
He did, and had since she had first laid eyes on the ruin that fire had made of his face, though it seemed to her now that he was not half so terrifying as the other. Still, Sansa wrenched away from him, and the Hound laughed, and Lady moved between them, rumbling a warning. Sansa dropped to her knees to wrap her arms around the wolf. They were all gathered around gaping, she could feel their eyes on her, and here and there she heard muttered comments and titters of laughter.
"A wolf," a man said, and someone else said, "Seven hells, that's a direwolf," and the first man said, "What's it doing in camp?" and the Hound's rasping voice replied, "The Starks use them for wet nurses," and Sansa realized that the two stranger knights were looking down on her and Lady, swords in their hands, and then she was frightened again, and ashamed. Tears filled her eyes.
She heard the queen say, "Joffrey, go to her."
And her prince was there.
"Leave her alone," Joffrey said. He stood over her, beautiful in blue wool and black leather, his golden curls shining in the sun like a crown. He gave her his hand, drew her to her feet. "What is it, sweet lady? Why are you afraid? No one will hurt you. Put away your swords, all of you. The wolf is her little pet, that's all." He looked at Sandor Clegane. "And you, dog, away with you, you're scaring my betrothed."
The Hound, ever faithful, bowed and slid away quietly through the press. Sansa struggled to steady herself. She felt like such a fool. She was a Stark of Winterfell, a noble lady, and someday she would be a queen. "It was not him, my sweet prince," she tried to explain. "It was the other one."
The two stranger knights exchanged a look. "Payne?" chuckled the young man in the green armor.
The older man in white spoke to Sansa gently. "Oft times Ser Ilyn frightens me as well, sweet lady. He has a fearsome aspect."
"As well he should." The queen had descended from the wheelhouse. The spectators parted to make way for her. "If the wicked do not fear the King's Justice, you have put the wrong man in the office."
Sansa finally found her words. "Then surely you have chosen the right one, Your Grace," she said, and a gale of laughter erupted all around her.
"Well spoken, child," said the old man in white. "As befits the daughter of Eddard Stark. I am honored to know you, however irregular the manner of our meeting. I am Ser Barristan Selmy, of the Kingsguard." He bowed.
Sansa I, AGOT (chapter 15)
Update:
Let us recap. Here are all of the identified entities, with their identities and locations given in black bold when folks seem to agree they are in situ, and marked in red bold when it's been argued the identified entity is someplace other than where Bran sees them:
1. Winterfell Paragraph - Maester Luwin on his balcony, studying the sky through a polished bronze tube and frowning as he made notes in a book
2. Winterfell Paragraph - Robb Stark taller and stronger than he remembered him, practicing swordplay in the yard with real steel in his hand
3. Winterfell Paragraph - Hodor the simple giant from the stables, carrying an anvil to Mikken's forge, hefting it onto his shoulder as easily as another man might heft a bale of hay
4. Winterfell Paragraph - "the heart of the godswood" the great white weirwood brooded over its reflection in the black pool, its leaves rustling in a chill wind. When it felt Bran watching, it lifted its eyes from the still waters and stared back at him knowingly
5. Narrow Sea Paragraph - Catelyn Stark sitting alone in a cabin, looking at a bloodstained knife on a table in front of her, as the rowers pulled at their oars
6. Narrow Sea Paragraph - Ser Rodrik Cassel leaned across a rail, shaking and heaving
7. Narrow Sea Paragraph - "a storm" was gathering ahead of them, a vast dark roaring lashed by lightning, but somehow they could not see it
8. Trident Paragraph - Eddard Stark pleading with the king, his face etched with grief
9. Trident Paragraph - Sansa Stark crying herself to sleep at night
10. Trident Paragraph - Arya Stark watching in silence and holding her secrets hard in her heart
11. Trident Paragraph - "There were shadows" all around them
12. Trident Paragraph - "One Shadow" was dark as ash, with the terrible face of a hound [The Hound, Sandor Clegane]
13. Trident Paragraph - "Another" [the second shadow] was armored like the sun, golden and beautiful
14. Trident Paragraph - "Over them both" [the third shadow] loomed a giant in armor made of stone, but when he opened his visor, there was nothing inside but darkness and thick black blood
15. Essos Paragraph - The Free Cities
16. Essos Paragraph - the green Dothraki sea
17. Essos Paragraph - Vaes Dothrak under its mountain [the Mother of Mountains]
18. Essos Paragraph - fabled lands of the Jade Sea
19. Essos Paragraph - Asshai by the Shadow
20. Essos Paragraph - dragons stirred beneath the sunrise
21. North Paragraph - the Wall shining like blue crystal
22. North Paragraph - Jon Snow sleeping alone in a cold bed, his skin growing pale and hard as the memory of all warmth fled from him
23. North Paragraph - "past the Wall" past endless forests cloaked in snow, past the frozen shore and the great blue-white rivers of ice and the dead plains where nothing grew or lived
24. North Paragraph - "North and north and north" he looked, to the curtain of light at the end of the world, and then beyond that curtain
25. North Paragraph - "the heart of winter" and then he cried out, afraid, and the heat of his tears burned on his cheeks
I argue that rather than 23 of these entities being in situ, with two exceptional anomolies, all 25 of them are in situ and that Bran witnesses them in real-time during his coma.
I believe Bran's "falling dream" is actually out of body spirit flight, conscious astral travel. It is a common element of witchcraft, animism, paganism, and shamanism. And, Bran is even accompanied by a spirit-helper - the Three-Eyed Crow.
Superimposed upon these real events and entities, Bran is able to see more than what only two eyes can comprehend. Rather than see in three dimensions (as one can do with two eyes), Bran is able to see in four - with the advent of his third eye.
Update to the OP:
This OP seems rather pointless, because, well, I left out the whole point of it. LOL
Tis the curse of a cryptic voice. So here goes an attempt to correct that....
If the shadows are at the Trident, and if indeed Bran is seeing things in realtime (with prophetic/spiritual laters added, of course), then the last few glimpses before he looks into the crow's third eye seem very important. Here they are:
23. North Paragraph - "past the Wall" past endless forests cloaked in snow, past the frozen shore and the great blue-white rivers of ice and the dead plains where nothing grew or lived
24. North Paragraph - "North and north and north" he looked, to the curtain of light at the end of the world, and then beyond that curtain
25. North Paragraph - "the heart of winter" and then he cried out, afraid, and the heat of his tears burned on his cheeks
I think that as one ventures north and north and north... one would eventually come upon a place behind a curtain of light in which Other/wight activity is as vibrant as it was during the Long Night.
North and north and north he looked, to the curtain of light at the end of the world, and then beyond that curtain. He looked deep into the heart of winter, and then he cried out, afraid, and the heat of his tears burned on his cheeks.
Now you know, the crow whispered as it sat on his shoulder. Now you know why you must live.
"Why?" Bran said, not understanding, falling, falling.
Because winter is coming.
I think Bran glimpsed a Starry Khalasar, Brandon the Builder, and his corpse khaleesi. Mere speculation of course, but I also suspect that BtB and his queen might have gotten freaky during Bran's spiritual voyeurism. Bran freaks out when thinking about Jaime, Cersei, and the two-backed beast.
I think GRRM's letter to his agent hints at something similar as well:
The greatest danger of all, however, comes from the north, from the icy wastes beyond the Wall, where half-forgotten demons out of legend, the inhuman others, raise cold legions of the undead and the neverborn and prepare to ride down on the winds of winter to extinguish everything that we would call "life." The only thing that stands between the Seven Kingdoms and and endless night is the Wall, and a handful of men in black called the Night's Watch. Their story will be the heart of my third volume, The Winds of Winter. The final battle will also draw together characters and plot threads left from the first two books and resolve all in one huge climax.Much and more has changed since GRRM wrote that letter, but note the use of present tense verbs...
I think that in both books and show, cold legions of the undead had already been raised, long before the massacre at Hardhome. I think this is also what is meant by Cotter Pyke's 'dead things' in the woods and 'dead things' in the water. Hardhome=clusterfuck.
We see them prior to Hardhome in the V6 Prologue, and we see them on the show (breaking through gates).
I think the Others have been north and north and north beyond that curtain of light, preparing since the end of the original Long Night. They were only unable to venture southward (beyond that curtain of light) after its conclusion. ...Not to say that they weren't still recruiting, but I think their recruitment was limited to the extreme-polar region where only the most northron of wildings would have ventured.
I think that what enabled the Others' somewhat recent southron expeditions is the defeat of Dawn by a descendant of Bran the Builder. This occurred 17 years ago at the tower of joy, when Eddard of the House Stark disarmed Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, and killed him.
This was, a Battle for the Dawn:
"And now it begins," said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light.
"No," Ned said with sadness in his voice. "Now it ends." As they came together in a rush of steel and shadow, he could hear Lyanna screaming. "Eddard!" she called. A storm of rose petals blew across a blood-streaked sky, as blue as the eyes of death.
Ned claimed the longsword 'Dawn', which is the original 'Ice' and caused the blue eyes of death (the Others) to blow across a blood-streaked sky (the red comet).
I look forward to your thoughts!
