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They were gone. All the bodies were gone.
“Ass,” Jon muttered, low enough so Greyjoy did not hear. He put a hand on Bran’s shoulder, and Bran looked over at his bastard brother. “You did well,” Jon told him solemnly. Jon was fourteen, an old hand at justice.
Bran thought about it. “Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?” “That is the only time a man can be brave,” his father told him.
If you would take a man’s life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.
A ruler who hides behind paid executioners soon forgets what death is.”
He gave a cry of delight and moved closer. The pup was a tiny ball of grey-black fur, its eyes still closed.
“No!” Bran cried out fiercely. “It’s mine.”
“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.” “What of it, Jon?” “You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”
Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name that custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own. Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly. “The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,”
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“There,” Jon said. He swung his horse around and galloped back across the bridge. They watched him dismount where the direwolf lay dead in the snow, watched him kneel. A moment later he was riding back to them, smiling. “He must have crawled away from the others,” Jon said. “Or been driven away,” their father said, looking at the sixth pup. His fur was white, where the rest of the litter was grey. His eyes were as red as the blood of the ragged man who had died that morning. Bran thought it curious that this pup alone would have opened his eyes while the others were still blind. “An albino,”
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*screams
Ned frowned. “He must learn to face his fears. He will not be three forever. And winter is coming.”
Her brother held the gown up for her inspection. “This is beauty. Touch it. Go on. Caress the fabric.”
I FORGOT SHE HAD A BROTHER!!!
Dany thought.
SHE HAS A NICKNAME 😭😭😭
Dany was thirteen, old enough to know that such gifts seldom come without their price, here in the free city of Pentos.
she’s 13 🫥
Viserys called it “waking the dragon.”
His fingers brushed lightly over her budding breasts and tightened on a nipple. “You will not fail me tonight. If you do, it will go hard for you. You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?” His fingers twisted her, the pinch cruelly hard through the rough fabric of her tunic. “Do you?” he repeated. “No,” Dany said, meekly.
arsehole
The Dothraki called that land Rhaesh Andahli,
Her mother had died birthing her, and for that her brother Viserys had never forgiven her.
rude
All that Daenerys wanted back was the big house with the red door, the lemon tree outside her window, the childhood she had never known.
she’s so timid 🥺🤍
She had always assumed that she would wed Viserys when she came of age.
her brother? 🤢
“She’s too skinny,” Viserys said.
rudeeeee i’ll slap
you
“She has had her blood. She is old enough for the khal,” Illyrio told him, not for the first time.
nooooo she’s so young you f—k
“Oh, yes,” Viserys said darkly. “He has tried, Illyrio, I promise you that. His hired knives follow us everywhere. I am the last dragon, and he will not sleep easy while I live.”
liesssssss
it’s dany !!!
and realized, with a sudden start of fear, that she was the only woman there.
DARLING IM HERE
She was still looking at this strange man from the homeland she had never known when Magister Illyrio placed a moist hand on her bare shoulder. “Over there, sweet princess,” he whispered, “there is the khal himself.”
he sounds gross
“You see how long it is?” Viserys said. “When Dothraki are defeated in combat, they cut off their braids in disgrace, so the world will know their shame. Khal Drogo has never lost a fight. He is Aegon the Dragonlord come again, and you will be his queen.”
but she’s a baby 🥺
“Smile,” Viserys whispered nervously, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword. “And stand up straight. Let him see that you have breasts. Gods know, you have little enough as is.”
jail
Daenerys smiled, and stood up straight.
noooo
Tyrion Lannister.
where Robert had accepted the rebel lord’s surrender and Ned had taken his son Theon as hostage and ward,
“Ah, damn it, Ned, did you have to bury her in a place like this??” His voice was hoarse with remembered grief. “She deserved more than darkness …” “She was a Stark of Winterfell,” Ned said quietly. “This is her place.” “She should be on a hill somewhere, under a fruit tree, with the sun and clouds above her and the rain to wash her clean.”
I sit on that damnable iron chair and listen to them complain until my mind is numb and my ass is raw. They all want something, money or land or justice.
then listen to them ;-;
“Lord Eddard Stark, I would name you the Hand of the King.”
It was the last thing in the world he wanted.
I am planning to make you run the kingdom and fight the wars while I eat and drink and wench myself into an early grave.”
a terrible king that doesn’t deserve the iron throne
My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done.”
no ✨
This offer did surprise him. “Sansa is only eleven.”
Robert waved an impatient hand. “Old enough for betrothal. The marriage can wait a few years.” The king smiled. “Now stand up and say yes, curse you.”
say no say no say no
And winter was coming.
when Jon Snow was glad he was a bastard.
love you
Jon found it hard to look away from him. This is what a king should look like, he thought to himself as the man passed.
Tyrion Lannister, the youngest of Lord Tywin’s brood and by far the ugliest.
he is not the ugliest
Theon ignored him utterly, but there was nothing new in that.
is he that turd no one likes??
Ghost ripped into it in savage silence.
awwww ghost 🥰
“Take me with you when you go back to the Wall,” Jon said in a sudden rush. “Father will give me leave to go if you ask him, I know he will.”
“I must be excused,” he said with the last of his dignity. He whirled and bolted before they could see him cry. He must have drunk more wine than he had realized. His feet got tangled under him as he tried to leave, and he lurched sideways into a serving girl and sent a flagon of spiced wine crashing to the floor. Laughter boomed all around him, and Jon felt hot tears on his cheeks. Someone tried to steady him. He wrenched free of their grip and ran, half blind, for the door. Ghost followed close at his heels, out into the night.
Tyrion Lannister was sitting on the ledge above the door to the Great Hall, looking for all the world like a gargoyle. The dwarf grinned down at him. “Is that animal a wolf??”
“Too hot, too noisy, and I’d drunk too much wine,” the dwarf told him. “I learned long ago that it is considered rude to vomit on your brother. Might I have a closer look at your wolf??”
i’m offended with his he’s voicing him 😒
“Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.”
“Am I?” the dwarf replied, sardonic. “Do tell my lord father. My mother died birthing me, and he’s never been sure.”
