The Last Sentence

[Lord Davos Seaworth]

First sentence: The morning had dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted at the end of summer.

Last sentence: The evening had set humid and warm, with a softness that hinted at the end of winter.

[ServantOnIce]

Irri looked up at the sky and said, "Wow, Drogon flies with such grace, over the whole world, leading all men and saving the world from the cold darkness . .. . It is known."

[Jolene Brown]

Is it though? Or isn't it rather a mortal wound to the aesthetic sensibilites of sophisticated readers everywhere, a travesty of the exalted and pristince source material, a brutal violation of the creator's vision, cheapening the dignity of the entire fandom, and should therefore be forbidden on pain of banning, which was obviously the point of my comment?

All talk about the adaptation should be on the tv forum... :)

[ServantOnIce]

As Lord Baelish now King Baelish sat the Iron Throne he looked over at his Lady Wife Queen Sansa. He asked Sansa for a hug, and she huged him with cold still as he lay dying he said, "Why?" Sansa answered, "Only Sandor."

The world was now a glow with warmth, Spring was coming . . the lovely time . . he looked over at her face, shaped like a heart and her red eyes and coppery red hair . . fire kissed like Ygritte he thought, there togethery they would rule the world as husband and wife .. there King Jon Stark and Queen Melisandre would reign . . .until the end of Springs.

They thought he was dead, but no he lived, he assumed the throne that was his, "I am alive, and I want Sansa my Queen . . I live! I faked my own death to say, that I Joffrey Baratheon I am the true King!"

Theon . . Theon the ravens cried as he faded away into the Nightlands . . .his pain forever at an end.

[rmholt]

Life now was nothing more than a shadow stealing over ground in the weak snow light, a mummer strutting without substance, delivering his lines in the frosty silence to no one for nothing; it was Hodor's tale, loud and self-centric, meaningless.

Martin could do worse than go the Shakespeare-Faulkner route.

Faulkner liked the varying POVs and Ken Kesey borrowed this technique from Sometimes A Great Notion. However, no Hodor like critter in Kesey that I recall.

[stannis halfelven]

"This violates the rules of storytelling!" wailed Daenerys, weltering in a pool of her own febrile excrement in the middle of the dothraki sea whilst the throneroom on the continent that mattered slowly filled with servants, each more leal than the last.

People invest in a character and they expect a return on the investment brooded the ghost of Jon Snow, as the raven perched on the edge of the firepit wondered if marrow tasted as good as corn did. Mayhaps, mayhaps at that.

Donal Noye rolled in his grave as the iron king mounted his iron throne. How ironic whispered Tycho Nestoris into his iron goblet.

"Martin wouldn't troll his own fans in this way!" sobbed Varys as he lovingly cradled the corpse of Lyle Crakehall in his arms.

The king opened his mouth and carefully withdrew the mirrored lenses he'd methodically ground to his reading prescription over the course of eight novels.

"Those are an anachronism," grumbled Cersei, resting her head upon the headless shoulders of Robert Strong in their honeymoon suite in the black cells.

Stannis adjusted his shades. "Deal with it."

The king looked at his hand. "Davos, do you love your rightful king?"

"My lord knows it."

"Then come up here and make him feel like a real man."

*******

Arya withdrew her pointy end from his soft belly. There were no more names to say, an absence Arya felt mostly in her gut, a hole even Hot Pie could not fill with his pastries. She turned to the nebulous man at her side. "I couldn't have done it without you, Jaqen. Or should I say, Syrio. I mean...DAD."

The kindly man shuddered slightly as his muscles relaxed, his glamour faded, and his beard bloomed. "No, I suppose you couldn't," Eddard Stark beamed down at his favourite daughter. "We make a good team."

Ned began to laugh. Arya joined him. The laughter became louder, more wild. Ned threw his head back and howled like a mad thing as Arya shrieked and writhed with abandon on the stones of Winterfell's crypt. Unnoticed, Lyanna's statue wept a single, bloody tear.

The Many Faced God accepted their cries of worship as he accepted everything his followers, both willing and unwilling, offered him--in silence.

*******

"I was asking the wrong people," sighed Tyrion as he paused from suckling the milk that flowed from a particularly useful breastplate he'd previously purchased at a Yunkai flea marked with stolen sellsword gold. "Jalabhar Xho knew all along."

"It's good for their complexion," said Sam, trying to be helpful. "Also the brothels are all unionized down there, which makes for--"

"--Management headaches," the dwarf bitterly finished his sentence. "It matters little and less to us, Tarly, as we've no boat to sail there. If only Victarion hadn't eaten all three of the dragons..."

"Oh, no worries on that front, my friend," chirped Sam as he shrugged out of his acolyte's robe and dove, nude, into the green waters of the Whispering Sound.

"What? Where'd you go, Sam?" Tyrion panned his gaze along the waterline, but his craven companion was nowhere to be seen. There was only--"Good heavens, where did this ample craft painted up in Bolton colours come from?"

"That's no standard of Roose's, it's me!" chortled Sam, as he spouted water from his mouth whilst floating on his back. "Climb aboard! Tysha is waiting!"

Tyrion had no choice. "Seven hells," he cursed. Was there ever a boat with a mast so fat or so responsive?

*******

"Thus, neither of us is alive when the reader opens this book. But while the blood still throbs through my little finger, you are still as much part of blessed matter as I am, and I can still talk to you from here to Winterfell. Be true to your NAME REDACTED. Do not let other fellows touch you. Do not talk to strangers. I hope you will love your baby. I hope it will be a boy. That husband of yours, I hope, will always treat you well, because otherwise my specter shall come at him, like Melisandre's black smoke, like a demented Gregor Clegane, and pull him apart nerve by nerve. And do not pity T. L. One had to choose between him and P. B., and one wanted P. B. to exist at least a couple of months longer, so as to have him make you live in the minds of later generations. I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Sansa."

"No talk," growled Mord on the other side of the sky cell's gate.

[Dire Turtle]

The last chapter is a Theon POV where both he and Ramsay survive Winter.

Set to the tune of the classic cartoon "Pinky and the Brain"

Theon: Gee Ramsay what do you want to do tonight?

Ramsay: Same thing we do every night Reek, try to take over the world.

They're Reeky and the Flay,

Yes Reeky and the Flay,

One has no penis,

The other's insane,

They pay the iron price,

They're both not very nice,

They're creepy,

They're Reeky and the Flay Flay Flay Flay

Flay Flay Flay Flay

Flay

Now that winter's done

Their plan will be unfurled

By the dawning of the sun

They'll take over the world

They're Reeky and the Flay,

Yes Reeky and the Flay,

Their northern campaign,

Is easy to explain,

To earn their father's worth

They'll skin Wyman's girth,

They're creepy

They're Reeky and the Flay Flay Flay Flay

Flay Flay Flay Flay

Flay

Stark!

[NotSoSilentSister]

snip

Now, that's what I'd call well written.

(Makes me almost fear for your eternal soul. I mean we all know that people with questionable morals can be counted on for a fancy prose style....)

[David C. Hunter]

The fire of the Dragon slowly died out, never to wreak havoc on the people of westeros again

[Eternally_Theirs]

Ramsay started laughing like a madman. Wyman and Wylla Manderly, now his prisoners, looked at him incredulously.

"I have everything." Ramsay boasted "What can you two have that can possibly defeat me?"

"The....Starks...." Wylla said, pointing to something behind Ramsay.

Ramsay turned around and saw them. Eddard Stark and Catelyn Stark were there. To their left was another walking corpse, with the head of wolf on human's body. There were also two girls, one older who was smiling and one younger, who was carrying a sword very large. Two youngest boys were both looking at former Lord Commander, Jon Snow.

"No...." Ramsay whispered, looking at Jon in terror. "Bowen Marsh should have done what I told him to do."

"Aye, he should have." a new voice spoke from behind Ramsay. "But he didn't, just as I'm not your Reek."

"But Theon..."

"You killed my lover at Red Wedding, and now I shall repay. What's dead may never die." Theon said, as he walked to the man with wolf's head and started kissing him passionately. Everyone clapped.

*******

"You really think you can get away with it, do you?" Tommen hissed at Varys "You were planning to murder me in cold blood. Take him away."

A girl with soft brown hair and huge scar on her face hopped down the stairs lightly and grabbed Tommen's hand

"Arise, Tommen Baratheon and Myrcella Baratheon, King of Seven Kingdoms and his sister." Shireen said brighty

*****

"Whew." Victarion Greyjoy said "That Moqorro, the traitor, he was going to kill me so that you don't get 'tainted' by me. But now you and I shall marry."

"I'm not sure." Dany said slowly "I still have a husband...."

"He died in the skirmish." Ser Barristan said "I killed him myself, the traitor. He was working with Yunkai citizens all along."

"Oh." Dany said "Then I suppose I can marry you."

****

Walder Frey was sitting on his plushie chair, when suddenly, the door burst open. A small person entered with the longsword.

"Who are you?" Walder Frey asked

"Mycah, at least that was my name back when i was still alive. I came here to avenge the brother of my best friend. This is for her and her family." Mycah said as he cut off the head of Walder Frey. "Sorry, Arya, sorry for your loss." Mycah said and a tear fell from his eye. Then he disappeared, returning to the realm of the dead.

[Sand Snake No. 9]

"Quorked the ravens, `Nevermore.'"

The creature known as the Great Other looked out over the endless fields of pristine snow with smug satisfaction. Dream of spring, little mortals, it thought, that's all the Spring you'll ever get.

Valar morghulis, all men must die! Arya shouted as she faced Robert Strong. She drew her sword. But I am no man.

King's Landing was a smoking waste land of ash and bone. Among the scorched ruins of the Red Keep all that was left of the Iron Throne was a puddle of molten metal. Wolves prowled the streets searching for cooked meat of any type, and above them the skies of Westeros were alive with dragon song for the first time in hundreds of years. Daenerys Stormborn, the First of Her Name, had finally come home.

[dungodung]

I thought that the OP was supposed to urge us to think of the possible/improbable/wanted/comical last sentence, not the last paragraph/bulk of text.

[rmholt]

I thought that the OP was supposed to urge us to think of the possible/improbable/wanted/comical last sentence, not the last paragraph/bulk of text.

well, that's an interesting last sentence :)

[rmholt]

In some cases it is clear that some sort of setup for the last sentence is required.

[PatrickStormborn]

"Sisters are doing it for themselves," Arianne Martell, the Queen of Dorne, murmured. Queen Asha of the Iron Islands, Queen Sansa of the North, and Queen Daenerys of the South all chuckled in agreement. And for the first time in hundreds of years, Westeros was ruled by fierce badass ladies who fucked up any motherfuckers that got in their way.

[HonourableSerLittlefinger]

The End.

[Bearbert Dondarrion]

And Thus His Watch has ended.

'why me, Dolorous Edd said while stabbing Lord Commander Stannis'

The magic has died from This world.

Words are wind, Stannis replied To Dany while launching the projectile.

[Sand Snake No. 9]

The End.

I read this and I laughed like hell. :rofl: Go figure.

[Lord Godric]

All was well.

--wait

[WenchofTarth]

Ends in a song of course, the one about the Dornishman's wife