fresh stuff

“Ser Jaime?…”I am grateful, but…you were well away. Why come back?”

A dozen quips came to mind, each crueler than the one before, but Jamie only shrugged. “I dreamed of you”, he said.

(Source: fearisforthewinter, via ninneve)

No man had ever called him craven. Other things they called him, yes; oathbreaker, liar, murderer. They said he was cruel, treacherous, reckless. But never craven.

(Source: fearisforthewinter, via starklyanna)

(Source: inthehouseofstark, via starklyanna)

(Source: evanderwilde, via ashalan)

princethranduil:

I pledge my life and honor to the Night’s Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.

(Source: princessaryastark, via hiddlesworthing)

“You want her? Go get her.”

So he did.

(Source: fearisforthewinter, via ninneve)

“Remember this, boy. All dwarfs may be bastards, yet not all bastards need be dwarfs.” And with that he turned and sauntered back into the feast, whistling a tune. When he opened the door, the light from within threw his shadow clear across the yard, and for just a moment Tyrion Lannister stood tall as a king.

(Source: meerareed, via coveredinsnow-)

“It’s just a sword,” she said, aloud this time… but it wasn’t. Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell’s grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan’s stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow’s smile. He used to mess my hair and call me “little sister,” she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes.

(via thranduilings)

princethranduil:

Those violent delights have violent ends. For never was a story of more woe, than this great house of sorrow.

(Source: princessaryastark, via thranduilings)