The First Son

          “There are many places they could be.                   When you stop thinking up fantasies.” 

           [ And, he's said too much. ]

          “Now you are just showing yourself for a boy.” 

      "---       I did not say,       'go watch them, father.'       Where else could they be?"

        “Do you see any of them around?” No. “Even the slaves are missing.                                                                                The pretty ones, at least.”

      "Perhaps they are bathing together."

                “Where are all the women when I want them—?” 

      "Perhaps hiding from the women you already have."

   ‘ ————  I do not believe I share any familiarities towards the priest,                    ser ;  I am of a little place called Highgarden. ’

      Surely she didn’t. He could only imagine       what life would be like surrounded by       vegetables and other such crops. And the       crops would be tall, on account of the word       ‘high’ describing it, correct? How peculiar.

      “I am in need of a drink.”

      [ He reminded before pouring into a cup. ]

          “Fine…I only ask that you                keep this secret. If not                     well,there will be very                unpleasant consequences.”

      “Very well. I will not tell anyone.       Now, you will show me?”

"You detested me as a adolescent boy, I thought you would have whipped me from your memory."

      “Yes, I wanted to sacrifice you to the Gods.       But you became one of us. You became       family. I would not whip you, even for dislike.”

           “-They should not, if you behave yourself,           Dragons are wild beasts, they can not be tamed;           not even by their mother”

           “You are their mother, correct?            How does one—give birth to a dragon?”

                                                                              “Come closer, Björn, and see.”              the mask being coaxed from wood is too small for an adult to wear;;              it is a child’s mask, a laughing face with a decidedly sinister appeal.

           “For your daughter?”

"The name is Lady Margaery Tyrell not girl! Have you any decency boy?”

      “I am no boy—       I meant no offense,       LadyMargaeryTyrell.       Your title is fairly complex.”

                       ❝ — Ah, how particularly observant of you.                                        An injury yes; how I’d nearly    f o r g o t t e n .❞                A touchy subject, still; the   m a i m i n g      wound to pride, flesh, and spirit— abandoning the     knight to      L   O   S   S      

      Though sensitive to the other, the Viking       could only be curious to the events that       had led to the mutilation. Many of his       people had similarly damaged parts,       though few survived.

"What sort of madness befell him?"

      “We may give him a proper burial, as to allow him entrance into Valhalla.”

“I've never heard of England. Westeros is it's own country.”

      “I had not either. And yet, my father traveled there long ago.       I shall have to visit your country one day. Is it rich with treasure?”

         ”Tis a pleasure to meet you acquaintance             Björn Ironside.            And yes the very same.”

      “And you as well—       T-The same?       You are the       wife of Odin?”

      “And I have missed you, sister. We mourned. Father attempted to talk to you.” He shook the thought from his mind. “We must make a sacrifice to the Gods. We will thank them for what they have done.”