#sjmaasedit

“Because I am from Terrasen and believed my queen dead. And now she is alive, and fighting, so I will fight with her. So that no other girls will be taken from their homes and brought to Morath and forgotten.” 

“You could rattle the stars,“ she whispered. "You could do anything, if only you dared. And deep down, you know it, too. That’s what scares you most.”

“As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn’t particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting... I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.” He eased to his feet with a groan, his unbound hair glimmering as the midday sun overhead set the blood and wine hues aglow.  “I’d say that sounds more High-Lord-like than the life of an idle, unwanted son.” A long, steely look. “Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?”

She was still in her clothes, and while she looked beautiful, that did nothing to mask the killing potential that lay beneath. It was present in her strong jaw, in the slope of her eyebrows, in the perfect stillness of her form. She was a honed blade made by the King of Assassins for his own profit. She was a sleeping animal— a mountain cat or a dragon— and her markings of power were everywhere.