“He said you’re a traitor. Are you?”
“I am, child. I disobeyed my king, your father, and now I’m paying the price.”
“I don’t care, you’re my friend. You must get bored down here, I brought you something to read. It’s about Aegon and his dragons. Aegon used to live here, did you know that? And the Targaryens built this castle.”
Whenever she was asked what she saw within her fires, Melisandre would answer, “Much and more,” but seeing was never as simple as those words suggested. It was an art, and like all arts it demanded mastery, discipline, study. Pain. That too. R’hllor spoke to his chosen ones through blessed fire, in a language of ash and cinder and twisting flame that only a god could truly grasp. Melisandre had practiced her art for years beyond count, and she had paid the price. There was no one, even in her order, who had her skill at seeing the secrets half-revealed and half-concealed within the sacred flames.
Houses Sworn to House Baratheon ➻
fakebook of the houses
ugh your face makes me want to crawl in to the inner earth and die
Carice van Houten
There’s an Armitage at your door.
i wish pokemon were real cuz then instead of being a shitty blogger id be a shitty ace trainer who stands by the sider of the road wearing sunglasses and a trenchcoat waiting for 10 year olds to pass by so he can challenge them and still gets his ass kicked routinely
