Uncle Vernon in ASOIAF
Uncle Vernon, a man who would never voluntarily walk at a pace greater than a stroll is now running at full tilt. Behind him is a similar un-shapely figure, huffing and puffing. A bystander could almost be excused for thinking that there are two uncle Vernon’s. Nothing that was happening this morning seems to add up. As if waking up somewhere strange wasn’t enough, he is now being chased by a hoodlum when all he did was try to buy a pie!
“I should have never taken that bloody boy into our house. Look where he has gotten me now!” He curses for the fourth time since morning.
Just then, there is a sharp turn in the path, and with manoeuvring not really being his forte, he rolls right off the edge. A while later, he wakes up lying facedown in a puddle and wonders what his life has come to.
“…..Cersei….King’s landing….”
He trudges down towards the voices as stealthily as he can, in fear of being chased again. Looking at their attire he wishes for the good, old days when cloaks and pointy hats were the worst depths fashion had sunk to.
At the end of the long road, he is stopped by two fierce looking guards, bigger and brawnier than anyone he had ever seen. “Good day, Sirs!” he exclaims. His newfound, temporary humility is met with a shove by one of the two guards, who promptly asks him to steer clear of their way. They are discussing something incredibly exciting, and are failing miserably at suppressing their laughter.
Vernon, who does not take any offense slightly, takes a more authoritative tone this time. “Sirs! I, Vernon Dursley, have travelled a very long way to gain an audience with the king. I am a foreigner to this strange land, and I assumed that this would be the safest place to be.” His lamentation is met with a frown, and for the second time, he is pushed out of the way.
Vernon, whose blood starts boiling due to the repeated manhandling, starts throwing a tirade of curses at the unperturbed guards. “I am a legitimate taxpayer! I deserve a chance!” he complains.
The guards, who by now are tired of Vernon’s whining, resist the urge to put a sword through his big, round belly. “The King is busy with an important trial, and is currently at the Sept of Baelor,” they say. Vernon, who is completely exhausted by now, hopes for better luck at the Sept of Baelor. He hopes that the King would love to hear about the developments and innovations in his country, and thinks he could teach the King a thing or two about enforcing law and order.
All that is secondary though. All he wants is to get back to Little Whinging, and he is steadily losing his patience. He hopes that Petunia and Dudley are not being too lenient to his scoundrel nephew in his absence.
After what seems like eternity, he reaches the entrance to the Sept of Baelor. The guards here look as unfriendly as the previous ones, and Vernon prays that they would listen to reason. As he approaches them, he hears loud screams and is shocked to see the whole Sept explode! A storm of green light approaches him, but before he can turn away, it consumes him in whole.
Vernon wakes up panting. It was all a dream! But the sound of the explosion seemed all too real. He hears his wife and son shrieking! He hurries down to the basement, where he sees a broken door, and a giant-man poking his head through the doorway, wishing his nephew a happy birthday.
This article was written for Festember: The Renaissance by Trisha Reddy, Shanmuga EP , Aditya Suresh, Abhishek Ramachandran, Tejas Harirajan Radhakrishnan and Varshiny Arumugam.
