#gwayne hightower

Daeron, Rhaena, Gwayne, and Laenor (Finally Get To Find Some Sweetness)

As Daeron heads for Tessarion, she goes for Sheepstealer.

Her dragon.

The bright edge of the dawn. 

Her joy, her rebirth—and Sheepstealer’s as well.

Rhaena runs a hand along his snout, along his spikes, his broken snout, the scars that he gathered over all of those years living in the Vale on his own, running wild, flying free.

They match, now, scarred and yet shining.

He bares his teeth, and she bares hers right back.

“You are a wild thing,” Rhaena says with all of the love in the world, “A monster, just as I am. But you are also the best thing that has ever happened to me, in truth. You are brutal and beautiful and wild and hopeful as the morning. And you are mine, just as much as I am yours.

And if you would like it—I thought I might give you a name that belongs to the two of us. Not to those that feared you, in the Vale, but rather—what you are to me.”

Sheepstealer rumbles, just on the verge of a roar.

And he craves so much. Craves to feed. Craves to live.

And she can give that to him.

“So,” Rhaena says, “How would you feel about the name Morning?”

-aletterinthenameofsanity, the fire is coming (so i think we should run)

🎶Men, men, men, men, manly men, men, men (Ooh) 

Men, men, men, men, manly men

I had two really good questions on Finding Your Place and I thought I should share here too: