Who's Watching Through The Black Gate?
Feb 18, 2018 22:12:34 GMT
Wraith, arrysfleas, and 1 more like this
Post by scottie on Feb 18, 2018 22:12:34 GMT
I've read theories that the weirwood face on the Black Gate is Bran's and the drop of salty water is a tear shed at seeing himself and his companions and what may or may not happen to them north of the Wall.
I like the idea that If future Bran is in control of the gate he still has to let them through because Sam says the words. If he can control who goes through despite the words being said, he has to let them through despite knowing whats going to happen.
The tear itself is interesting because it's salt water. The other weirwood face that looks as if it had been crying had tears of the tree's red sap.
The face carved into the bone pale trunk was long and sad; red tears of dried sap leaked from its eyes. Was that how it looked when we came north? Sam couldn't recall. A Storm of Swords - Samwell III
Once, it was said, they had quarried immense blocks of ice from frozen lakes deep in the haunted forest, dragging them south on sledges so the Wall might be raised ever higher. A Game of Thrones - Jon V
The Black Gate is obviously different.
Its glows
A glow, came from the wood, like milk and moonlight, so faint it scarcely seemed to touch anything beyond the door itself, not even Sam standing right before it.
"Who are you?" the door asked, and the well whispered, "Who-who-who-who-who-who-who."
and of course it can open its mouth....very wide
"Then pass," the door said. Its lips opened, wide and wider and wider still, until nothing at all remained but a great gaping mouth in a ring of wrinkles....
Bran describes the face on the Gate as...
...The face was old and pale, wrinkled and shrunken. It looks dead. Its mouth was closed, and its eyes; its cheeks were sunken, its brow withered, its chin sagging. If a man could live for a thousand years and never die but just grow older, his face might come to look like that....
If a weirwood face takes on the likeness of the person looking through it, is it the same for the gate and is there anyone who looks like this in the story?
The description of the face could be Future Bran...maybe. We obviously dont know what he will look like when he is an old man or if he will be alive at the age the face seems to be. If he is still in Bloodraven's cave, resting in the roots of a weirwood i think he would resemble what Bloodraven looks like now with roots growing through his body.
If Bloodraven
controls the Black Gate, i think it would have a much scarier face than the old man's face Bran describes.
The face Bran describes is more like Maester Aemon...
"Aye."
"Aemon Targaryen?"
"Once. Most just called him Maester Aemon. He died during our voyage south. How is it that you know of him?"
"How not? He was more than just the oldest living maester. He was the oldest man in Westeros, and lived through more history than Archmaester Perestan has ever learned. He could have told us much and more about his father's reign, and his uncle's. How old was he, do you know?"
"One hundred and two." A Feast for Crows Samwell V
"Aemon Targaryen?"
"Once. Most just called him Maester Aemon. He died during our voyage south. How is it that you know of him?"
"How not? He was more than just the oldest living maester. He was the oldest man in Westeros, and lived through more history than Archmaester Perestan has ever learned. He could have told us much and more about his father's reign, and his uncle's. How old was he, do you know?"
"One hundred and two." A Feast for Crows Samwell V
"Nonetheless," Maester Aemon said as his clouded, milk-white eyes moved to Tyrion's face, "I think it is true."
For once, Tyrion Lannister found himself at a loss for words. He could only bow his head politely and say, "You are too kind, Maester Aemon."
The blind man smiled. He was a tiny thing, wrinkled and hairless, shrunken beneath the weight of a hundred years so his maester's collar with its links of many metals hung loose about his throat. "I have been called many things, my lord," he said, "but kind is seldom one of them." This time Tyrion himself led the laughter. Tyrion III AGOT
For once, Tyrion Lannister found himself at a loss for words. He could only bow his head politely and say, "You are too kind, Maester Aemon."
The blind man smiled. He was a tiny thing, wrinkled and hairless, shrunken beneath the weight of a hundred years so his maester's collar with its links of many metals hung loose about his throat. "I have been called many things, my lord," he said, "but kind is seldom one of them." This time Tyrion himself led the laughter. Tyrion III AGOT
Maester Aemon had counted more than a hundred name days, Jon knew. Frail, shrunken, wizened, and blind, it was hard to imagine him as a little boy no older than Arya. A Clash of Kings - Jon I
The door opened its eyes.
They were white too, and blind. "Who are you?" the door asked, and the well whispered, "Who-who-who-who-who-who-who."
They were white too, and blind. "Who are you?" the door asked, and the well whispered, "Who-who-who-who-who-who-who."
So is there any evidence for Aemon being able to do this ?
Bran's third eye powers go up a level from wolfdreams to warging when he is hiding in the darkness of the crypts.
He remembered who he was all too well; Bran the boy, Bran the broken. Better Bran the beastling. Was it any wonder he would sooner dream his Summer dreams, his wolf dreams? Here in the chill damp darkness of the tomb his third eye had finally opened. He could reach Summer whenever he wanted, and once he had even touched Ghost and talked to Jon. A Clash of Kings - Bran VII
I saw you. "I gave you three. I don't need to give you four." Maybe on the morrow she would tell him about the cat that had followed her home last night from Pynto's, the cat that was hiding in the rafters, looking down on them. Or maybe not. If he could have secrets, so could she. A Dance with Dragons - The Blind Girl
"Never fear the darkness, Bran." The lord's words were accompanied by a faint rustling of wood and leaf, a slight twisting of his head. "The strongest trees are rooted in the dark places of the earth. Darkness will be your cloak, your shield, your mother's milk. Darkness will make you strong."
Aemon's Blindness may have awoken power's he already had. The Stark's have Wolf dreams,Targaryen's have Dragon dreams. If Aemon's "power" did awaken when he lost his sight,it's more than likely that it would be raven's eye's he would see through.
Aemon does mention spending his night's with Ghost's
"I am sorry to have woken you, Maester," Jon Snow said.
"You did not wake me," Maester Aemon replied. "I find I need less sleep as I grow older, and I am grown very old. I often spend half the night with ghosts, remembering times fifty years past as if they were yesterday. The mystery of a midnight visitor is a welcome diversion. So tell me, Jon Snow, why have you come calling at this strange hour?"
"You did not wake me," Maester Aemon replied. "I find I need less sleep as I grow older, and I am grown very old. I often spend half the night with ghosts, remembering times fifty years past as if they were yesterday. The mystery of a midnight visitor is a welcome diversion. So tell me, Jon Snow, why have you come calling at this strange hour?"
A fire was burning in the hearth, and the room was almost stuffy. The warmth made Jon sleepy. As soon as Noye eased him down onto his back, he closed his eyes to stop the world from spinning.
A fire was burning in the hearth, and the room was almost stuffy. The warmth made Jon sleepy. As soon as Noye eased him down onto his back, he closed his eyes to stop the world from spinning. He could hear the ravens quorking and complaining in the rookery above. "Snow," one bird was saying. "Snow, snow, snow." That was Sam's doing, Jon remembered. Had Samwell Tarly made it home safely, he wondered, or only the birds?
Maester Aemon was not long in coming. He moved slowly, one spotted hand on Clydas's arm as he shuffled forward with small careful steps. Around his thin neck his chain hung heavy, gold and silver links glinting amongst iron, lead, tin, and other base metals. "Jon Snow," he said, "you must tell me all you've seen and done when you are stronger. Donal, put a kettle of wine on the fire, and my irons as well. I will want them red-hot. Clydas, I shall need that good sharp knife of yours." The maester was more than a hundred years old; shrunken, frail, hairless, and quite blind. But if his milky eyes saw nothing, his wits were still as sharp as they had ever been.
Maester Aemon was not long in coming. He moved slowly, one spotted hand on Clydas's arm as he shuffled forward with small careful steps. Around his thin neck his chain hung heavy, gold and silver links glinting amongst iron, lead, tin, and other base metals. "Jon Snow," he said, "you must tell me all you've seen and done when you are stronger. Donal, put a kettle of wine on the fire, and my irons as well. I will want them red-hot. Clydas, I shall need that good sharp knife of yours." The maester was more than a hundred years old; shrunken, frail, hairless, and quite blind. But if his milky eyes saw nothing, his wits were still as sharp as they had ever been.
There have been a few times that Maester Aemon seems to see things despite being blind
"I … ah … Maester Aemon wants to see you."
It was not time for his bandages to be changed. Jon frowned suspiciously. "Why?" he demanded. Sam looked miserable. That was answer enough. "You told him, didn't you?" Jon said angrily. "You told him that you told me."
"I … he … Jon, I didn't want to … he asked … I mean … I think he knew, he sees things no one else sees …"
"He's blind," Jon pointed out forcefully, disgusted. "I can find the way myself." He left Sam standing there, openmouthed and quivering. A Game of Thrones - Jon VIII
It was not time for his bandages to be changed. Jon frowned suspiciously. "Why?" he demanded. Sam looked miserable. That was answer enough. "You told him, didn't you?" Jon said angrily. "You told him that you told me."
"I … he … Jon, I didn't want to … he asked … I mean … I think he knew, he sees things no one else sees …"
"He's blind," Jon pointed out forcefully, disgusted. "I can find the way myself." He left Sam standing there, openmouthed and quivering. A Game of Thrones - Jon VIII
Jon goes to see Maester Aemon in the rookery. His Ravens seem very hungry...
Jon shifted the bucket to his right hand and thrust his left down into the bloody bits. The ravens began to scream noisily and fly at the bars, beating at the metal with night-black wings. The meat had been chopped into pieces no larger than a finger joint. He filled his fist and tossed the raw red morsels into the cage, and the squawking and squabbling grew hotter. Feathers flew as two of the larger birds fought over a choice piece. Quickly Jon grabbed a second handful and threw it in after the first. "Lord Mormont's raven likes fruit and corn."
"He is a rare bird," the maester said. "Most ravens will eat grain, but they prefer flesh. It makes them strong, and I fear they relish the taste of blood. In that they are like men … and like men, not all ravens are alike."
"He is a rare bird," the maester said. "Most ravens will eat grain, but they prefer flesh. It makes them strong, and I fear they relish the taste of blood. In that they are like men … and like men, not all ravens are alike."
"A craven can be as brave as any man, when there is nothing to fear. And we all do our duty, when there is no cost to it. How easy it seems then, to walk the path of honor. Yet soon or late in every man's life comes a day when it is not easy, a day when he must choose."
Some of the ravens were still eating, long stringy bits of meat dangling from their beaks. The rest seemed to be watching him. Jon could feel the weight of all those tiny black eyes. "And this is my day … is that what you're saying?"
Maester Aemon turned his head and looked at him with those dead white eyes. It was as if he were seeing right into his heart. Jon felt naked and exposed. He took the bucket in both hands and flung the rest of the slops through the bars. Strings of meat and blood flew everywhere, scattering the ravens. They took to the air, shrieking wildly. The quicker birds snatched morsels on the wing and gulped them down greedily. Jon let the empty bucket clang to the floor.
Some of the ravens were still eating, long stringy bits of meat dangling from their beaks. The rest seemed to be watching him. Jon could feel the weight of all those tiny black eyes. "And this is my day … is that what you're saying?"
Maester Aemon turned his head and looked at him with those dead white eyes. It was as if he were seeing right into his heart. Jon felt naked and exposed. He took the bucket in both hands and flung the rest of the slops through the bars. Strings of meat and blood flew everywhere, scattering the ravens. They took to the air, shrieking wildly. The quicker birds snatched morsels on the wing and gulped them down greedily. Jon let the empty bucket clang to the floor.
Could Aemon be controlling the Black Gate?
Maybe.
There are some similarities between these two passages
What could I have done, old, blind, frail? I was helpless as a suckling babe, yet still it grieved me to sit forgotten as they cut down my brother's poor grandson, and his son, and even the little children …"
Jon was shocked to see the shine of tears in the old man's eyes. "Who are you?" he asked quietly, almost in dread.
A toothless smile quivered on the ancient lips. "Only a maester of the Citadel, bound in service to Castle Black and the Night's Watch. In my order, we put aside our house names when we take our vows and don the collar." A Game of Thrones Jon VIII
Jon was shocked to see the shine of tears in the old man's eyes. "Who are you?" he asked quietly, almost in dread.
A toothless smile quivered on the ancient lips. "Only a maester of the Citadel, bound in service to Castle Black and the Night's Watch. In my order, we put aside our house names when we take our vows and don the collar." A Game of Thrones Jon VIII
The door opened its eyes.
They were white too, and blind. "Who are you?" the door asked, and the well whispered, "Who-who-who-who-who-who-who."
"I am the sword in the darkness," Samwell Tarly said. "I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers. I am the shield that guards the realms of men."
"Then pass," the door said. Its lips opened, wide and wider and wider still, until nothing at all remained but a great gaping mouth in a ring of wrinkles. Sam stepped aside and waved Jojen through ahead of him. Summer followed, sniffing as he went, and then it was Bran's turn. Hodor ducked, but not low enough. The door's upper lip brushed softly against the top of Bran's head, and a drop of water fell on him and ran slowly down his nose. It was strangely warm, and salty as a tear. A Storm of Swords - Bran IV
They were white too, and blind. "Who are you?" the door asked, and the well whispered, "Who-who-who-who-who-who-who."
"I am the sword in the darkness," Samwell Tarly said. "I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers. I am the shield that guards the realms of men."
"Then pass," the door said. Its lips opened, wide and wider and wider still, until nothing at all remained but a great gaping mouth in a ring of wrinkles. Sam stepped aside and waved Jojen through ahead of him. Summer followed, sniffing as he went, and then it was Bran's turn. Hodor ducked, but not low enough. The door's upper lip brushed softly against the top of Bran's head, and a drop of water fell on him and ran slowly down his nose. It was strangely warm, and salty as a tear. A Storm of Swords - Bran IV
"The Long Night has come before. Oh, eight thousand years is a good while, to be sure … yet if the Night's Watch does not remember, who will?"
"Who will," chimed the talkative raven. "Who will." A Game of Thrones Jon VIII
"Who will," chimed the talkative raven. "Who will." A Game of Thrones Jon VIII
The description of the gate and how it works is still unclear because we only see one side of it.
Sam and Gilly come through the Black Gate from the north side to the south side and arrive under the Nightfort.
"How did you get through the Wall?" Jojen demanded as Sam struggled to his feet. "Does the well lead to an underground river, is that where you came from? You're not even wet . . ." "There's a gate," said fat Sam. "A hidden gate, as old as the Wall itself. The Black Gate, he called it."
The Black Gate, Sam had called it, but it wasn't black at all. It was white weirwood, and there was a face on it.
Its mouth was closed, and its eyes; its cheeks were sunken, its brow withered, its chin sagging. If a man could live for a thousand years and never die but just grow older, his face might come to look like that.
Its mouth was closed, and its eyes; its cheeks were sunken, its brow withered, its chin sagging. If a man could live for a thousand years and never die but just grow older, his face might come to look like that.
Did Sam say the words (on the north side) and the weirwood face opened its mouth for him and Gilly to walk through? If so does this mean there is a face carved on both sides of the gate or does it open on one side then close behind to open again on the other side?
This whole process reminded me of the three headed god Trios.
"One time, the girl remembered, the Sailor's Wife had walked her rounds with her and told her tales of the city's stranger gods. "That is the house of the Great Shepherd. Three-headed Trios has that tower with three turrets. The first head devours the dying, and the reborn emerge from the third. I don't know what the middle head's supposed to do."
ADWD The Ugly Little Girl
ADWD The Ugly Little Girl
When someone goes through the Gate, it must look like it's devouring them like Trios devours the dead only to emerge on the other side. And just like the Sailor's Wife, we dont know what happens on the journey inbetween.
"Allow me to give my lord one last piece of counsel," the old man had said, "the same counsel that I once gave my brother when we parted for the last time. He was three-and-thirty when the Great Council chose him to mount the Iron Throne. A man grown with sons of his own, yet in some ways still a boy. Egg had an innocence to him, a sweetness we all loved. Kill the boy within you, I told him the day I took ship for the Wall. It takes a man to rule. An Aegon, not an Egg. Kill the boy and let the man be born." The old man felt Jon's face. "You are half the age that Egg was, and your own burden is a crueler one, I fear. You will have little joy of your command, but I think you have the strength in you to do the things that must be done. Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy and let the man be born." A Dance with Dragons - Jon II
