#armourhound

                      gendry tells himself   it’s stupid.    no good nor a pleasant time has ‘ver come so far from conversing with the other man     -      and gendry’s got ‘nough,   he does,   o’ men lookin’ down on him.   growin’ up on the streets,   he did,    ‘t was hard not t’.    then bein’ almost always covered in soot and ashes o’ the forge    ...    if he closes his eyes right now he could very well remember it,   he will,    the eyes o’ any highborns or pretentious knights that might come by with an order.     you are dirty and below me,    their eyes would say,    nose high and mouth thinned into a line,     you are nothing.    for so long,   he had even believed it;   ate it up and harness ‘t into an unsatisfied rage and hatred against those o’ noble or higher blood.

                       and then,   he met arya    -    who was nothin’ proper,   she was,   nothing like the lady or any rich folks gendry’s ever met.    afterwards,   he met his uncle.    though the term “met” seems loose,    the term “uncle” seems looser.    he was no uncle o’ his,   that stannis baratheon,    king or no.   no family   -    not if his will were t’ kill his own kin only cause a religion told him to.    n’ when that was over,   it was,   everything    -    they were never really the same,   not ‘nymore.     he could hate any highborns he wants,    but he still owes his life plenty to one girl in particular who bore the name o’ an ancient house.    and he could spit at the riches s’ much as he likes,    doesn’t change the fact,   it won’t,   that he does get king’s blood runnin’ right ‘n him.    king,  aye,  and a drunk,  s’well.     and a womaniser.   and a fool who got ‘imself into the grave from a boar.

                   so,   true.    there might not be ‘ny good,   no,   talkin’ to the large man ‘cross o’ him when all gendry’s conversation so far have never much left him in a good mood after.     (    though he learns quick t’ not mind.    the hound,    like he said,   is not the first man t’ ever say somethin’ crude t’ his face b’fore;    not the first one t’ put him down and t’ remind him o’ his place.     )    what else is the choice?     you left me to die,    the hound had said t’ her,   he heard    -    what does it mean?    what happened?    i left her,   and you came ‘n the place o’ me,   is that it ?

       ‘    arya.    ’      a pause.     ‘     or did ye’ took her from the brotherhood ?   took her ‘gainst her will ?     ’

             𝑩𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑺𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝑪𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑺          /       winter  had  settled over  the  north  the  way  night  had  blanketed  the  sky   ,    it  had  been  slow  at first  ,  creeping   ,   eking  across  land   ,  through  canopies  and  brush.   leaves  had  fallen  as  though  in  love  with  the  frozen  soil   ,   it  had  come  a  slow  inexorable  march.  and  then   ,   suddenly    ,    she’d  awoken  to  a snow  covered  ground  and  the  end  of  all   warmth.   THE  SUN  A  COLD  LIGHT   ,   shining  across  the  expanse  of  white   ,   reflecting  into  her  eyes   ,   the  fires   ,   hard  to  earn  had  been  the  only  comfort.    THEY    ,    SAVAGES      /    they    free    ,   whatever  was  thought  of them   ,   they  understood   ,   by  some  measure  of man.   there  was  a  primitive  animal  instinct  to  them  all.    NOBLE CAMOUFLAGE      their knights   ,   their  armour   ,   their    honor    ,    however they painted themselves   ,   words could not  wash  the  dye  from  their  hands.   THE  RED  STAIN  OF  BLOOD  STILL  SPILLED. 

sandor vc: look @ this puny frog man

               ❛   𝚒        𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝        𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙        𝚋𝚞𝚝        𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚞𝚛          .  ❜              good        was        never        a        word        petyr        baelish        would        use        to        describe        himself          .             SELFISH          /          CONFIDENT          /          INTELLIGENT          /          POWER        STARVED            ,       to        name        a        few          .            would        he        classify        himself        as        bad        ?             not        necessarily          .             his        actions        had        reasons          ,          ones        that        made        perfect        sense        in        his        mind          .             petyr        baelish        would        never        claim        to        be        good          .              corruption        &        rot        ate        away        at        his        very        being          .             

KING        OF        THE        ASHES        !             trail        of       wildfire        in        his        wake          .               ❛   being        good        is        what        will        get        them        killed          .             whether        it        be        from        trusting        the        one        that        holds       a        blade        behind        their        back          ,          or        trying        to        make        peace        with        those        who        do        not        seek        it          .  ❜              

SILENCE          ;             UNCOMFORTABLE          .                doubt         licked         at         bear's         mind           .               it         seemed         too         easy           .               even         ser         jorah         mormont         knew         that         lannister         queen         would         not         agree         so         quick           .               𝐖𝐀𝐑         𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐍            ,            gaze         shifts         to         the         man         riding         near           .               was         he         not         once         sworn         to         lannister           ?              ❛❛   do         you         trust         cersei         lannister         to         keep         her         word           ?  ❜❜