all the stories can't be lies

Veronika, 28, Hungary. I have no idea what this blog is about anymore.
showing posts filed under #arianne martell

That is Nymeria’s star, burning bright, and that milky band behind her, those are ten thousand ships. She burned as bright as any man, and so shall I. You will not rob me of my birthright!

Happy Holidays ❄️ @sansalayned

Refuse them, princess. I mistrust these sellswords. Do not go to Storm’s End.
Ser Daemon, you squired for my uncle Oberyn. If you were with him now, would you be counseling him to refuse as well? I know the answer. And if you are about to remind me that I am no Red Viper, I know that too. But Prince Oberyn is dead, Prince Doran is old and ill, and I am the heir to Dorne.
                                                                               Arianne II, The Winds of Winter

Sansa Stark and Arianne Martell + parallels
(requested by @dornishmansblade)

Drey and Spotted Sylva were her dearest friends, aside from her cousin Tyene, and Garin had been teasing her since both of them were drinking from his mother’s teats.

Arianne Martell + her friends and companions
(requested by @diamondsinmyhair)

/ Anna Shaffer as Sylva Santagar, Avan Jogia as Garin, Ayisha Hart as Arianne Martell and Pana Hema Taylor as Andrey Dalt

The exploration took less time than it would have taken her to lace a pair of sandals, but at least it served to keep the tears at bay for a time. Arianne found a basin and a flagon of cool water and washed her hands and face, but no amount of scrubbing could cleanse her of her grief. Arys, she thought, my white knight. Tears filled her eyes, and suddenly she was weeping, her whole body wracked by sobs. She remembered how Hotah’s heavy axe had cleaved through his flesh and bone, the way his head had gone spinning through the air. Why did you do it? Why throw your life away? I never told you to, I never wanted that, I only wanted… I wanted… I wanted…

That night she cried herself to sleep… for the first time, if not the last. Even in her dreams she found no peace. She dreamt of Arys Oakheart caressing her, smiling at her, telling her that he loved her… but all the while the quarrels were in him and his wounds were weeping, turning his whites to red. Part of her knew it was a nightmare, even as she dreamt it. Come morning all of this will vanish, the princess told herself, but when morning came, she was still in her cell, Ser Arys was still dead, and Myrcella… I never wanted that, never. I meant the girl no harm. All I wanted was for her to be a queen. If we had not been betrayed…

requested by @ladiesofthrones

Theon Greyjoy and Arianne Martell + parallels
(requested by @blackbetha)

That is Nymeria’s star, burning bright, and that milky band behind her, those are ten thousand ships. She burned as bright as any man, and so shall I. You will not rob me of my birthright!

Arianne Martell ♦ requested by @dalekofchaos

Unbowed, unbent, unbroken.

“Someone told,” Hotah had said. The memory still made her angry. Arianne clung to that, feeding the flame within her heart. Anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. Someone told, someone she had trusted. Arys Oakheart had died because of that, slain by the traitor’s whisper as much as by the captain’s axe. The blood that had streamed down Myrcella’s face, that was the betrayer’s work as well. Someone told, someone she had loved. That was the cruelest cut of all.

requested my anonymous

&.