EPTI worked all summer outside doing manual labour. Planting trees up and down the Rocky mountains of British Columbia. I was forced to leave the company where all my friends worked and go to a new one. There I was alone and working with a horrible band of roughians. This is when I listened to the audio books. A game of thrones to a dance with dragons in one month. This was my comfort.
Being a forester with a great beard and rough hands I felt like I became Jamie Lanister in captive. My love was elsewhere, my arena at another place, surrounded by people who hated me. I quickly became engulfed in the world. Fully captured and living in the fantasy. Roy Dotrice was my narrator. So well voiced that characters did not need to be introduced. I was there. I knew who was speaking through him. I felt the cold of wall, the warmth of the hearth, the dryness of the desert, the scourging of dragons, the salt of the sea, and the stink of kings landing. And the pain, oh the pain of love and loss. Never have I been so enthralled by a fantasy. The love was mine. The lust was mine. The hate, fear, loss, and pain all more real to me then the tree in my hand. In reality I was alone working as hard as I could physically exhausting myself. Sacrificing my summer so I could go to university in the fall and be with my love. Eating like a king, Sleeping like a babe, Working at a trade I do best, but no songs of glory. No joy shared in this world. Just dark depression. I am thankful for my physical being to be so drained that my mind was free to give itself to Westeros and Essos.
Tyrion my little brother had a hard life. Mine was simple. I am a sword. I am justice. I am the best at what I do. I know my craft and I have trained my whole life to become so. I feel my emotions and act accordingly. I am action, not thought. My brother's life was different. His role undiscovered to others. He has had to fight for his. A different method than I could understand. I always loved and will love him. I have compassion for him. The only thing in this world I can say that about. I have tried to make his life happier. I sadly have failed more times than succeeded. Through the mystery of this world I heard a song. Sung by a bard in King's landing.
"He rode through the streets of the city,
down from his hill on high,
O'er the wynds and the steps and the cobbles,
he rode to a woman's sigh.
For she was his secret treasure,
she was his shame and his bliss.
And a chain and a keep are nothing,
compared to a woman's kiss"
Love. Making hands of gold love. This is what it was about to me. My brother took the song differently. Fear and anger is what he felt. The song changed after that. It has become a memory linked to the past. Its the memory that haunts him. Whereever he is now I am sure he is haunted by it. Echoing in his disfigured ears. I wept and could no longer work. In my great beard and muddy hands. I could no longer plant trees. I just sat on a stump in the clear cut forest. Looking out over the mountain side into the valley below and wept. I can not understand the pain and betrayal he must have felt. I feared that this could happen to me. I was fully in love and could be deceived. My love is only human. They are as full of flaws as me. I know this to be ture, but I cannot see them. No matter how hard I have looked she is perfect.
I had lost my strength and motivation that day. I thought what could drive my love to such betrayal. I also wondered what could make me betray her. NOTHING! yet how could I know until faced with the proposition? A wise man once said "Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point "-C. S. Lewis. I am a courageous man. I doubt anyone would question that. Yet, what if my honour gets tested and I make a small compromise. Then another instance I make another compromise. Again and again until the point where I no longer recognize the future me. That person surely would think differently and no longer love the love of my life.
This fear I had. This is what I worried and lost strength. There could be someone/thing out there planting this deception into my head. Voices of comfort, a friend who needs help that influences less time to protect her. Who out there could be the master of deception and manipulation? What if there are multiple people trying to lead me the wrong way? what then? Can I spot everyone? How many people do I trust now that are already trying to pull me and my love apart? These are thoughts brought on by a verse and a story. To calm my mind I remind myself of who I am and what I do. I am a sword. I am action. Thought wastes my joy.
In Short:
I could really use your help finding a time stamp or a reference guide. I wept when Roy Dotrice read "hands of gold" by Symon SilverTongue. As well as everytime it was mentioned in passing. Does anyone know where/when I can listen to Roy Dotrice reading it?
A video of what I could find. Beautiful, but not what I had in mind.
To understand how I felt one may be interested that I have a damage hippocampus. My working memory does not function properly. This gives me a ~9 day short term memory. Then for some reason I cannot remember most things until 5~months later it seems. This leads me to get very consumed by whatever I have focused on.
A Picture of me happy with my friends: + Show Spoiler +
![[image loading]](http://i.imgur.com/fIYgmN5.jpg?2)
A Picture of me looking like Jamie Lanister:+ Show Spoiler +
![[image loading]](http://i.imgur.com/jAMeKEF.jpg)
TLDR: Looking for A time stamp or online reading of "hands of gold" - Symon SilverTongue By Roy Dotrice
