Frankly Frankie

Daeron Targaryeon, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves to protect all women and children* to obey your captians, your liege lord to fight bravely whenever needed and to do such other tasks as are laid upon you however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?

have you ever been so mad that your tragically doomed unrequited knightly crush got himself killed and the army is marching this way carrying his head like an ignoble banner and you would like to kill some people about that but you can't right now because you are severely outnumbered (again) and cornered in a walled market town that is not prepared to withstand a siege and also there are dragons and your horrible smug cousin is acting like this is all going to plan but you suspect you've just bounced from one suicide mission to another one with more steps except this time your nephew is caught in the trap too and he keeps looking at you with your sisters big sad eyes like he's asking you to DO SOMETHING but you can't actually do anything so you dismount your horse so hard you kick the sun (the fucking Dornish sun)

they're everything I never knew I wanted

THE ARTIST