You’re funny. You’ve always been funny… But none of your jokes will ever match the first one, will they? You remember? Back when you ripped my mother open on your way out of her and she bled to death? She was my mother, too. Mother gone… for the sake of you. There’s no bigger joke in the world than that.
requested by Anonymous
There was something wild about a godswood; even here, in the heart of the castle at the heart of the city, you could feel the old gods watching with a thousand unseen eyes.
He wanted something from her, but Sansa did not know what it was. He looks like a starving child, but I have no food to give him. Why won’t he leave me be?
The king can do as he likes!
Sometimes her sleep was leaden and dreamless, and she woke from it more tired than when she had closed her eyes. Yet those were the best times, for when she dreamed, she dreamed of Father. Waking or sleeping, she saw him, saw the gold cloaks fling him down, saw Ser Ilyn striding forward, unsheathing Ice from the scabbard on his back, saw the moment… the moment when…she had wanted to look away, she had wanted to, her legs had gone out from underher and she had fallen to her knees, yet somehow she could not turn her head, and all the people were screaming and shouting, and her prince had smiled ather, he’d smiled and she’d felt safe, but only for a heartbeat, until he said those words, and her father’s legs…that was what she remembered, his legs, the way they’d jerked when Ser Ilyn…when the sword…
He had dreamed enough for one small life. And of such follies: love, justice, friendship, glory. As well dream of being tall. It was all beyond his reach, Tyrion knew now.
The future is shit, just like the p a s t
for @wheredowhoresgo ♥
She had last seen snow the day she’d left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball Arya tried to make kept coming apart in her hands. It hurt to remember how happy she had been that morning. Hullen had helped her mount, and she’d ridden out with the snowflakes swirling around her, off to see the great wide world. I thought my song was beginning that day, but it was almost done.
Sometimes he still dreamed of the Eyrie’s sky cells, and woke drenched in cold sweat.