Oct 16, 2017
continued | @bastardbled
“Oh TRUST ME, I do –” Ramsay spoke, glancing over at his wife.
“I didn’t want to.”
Sansa raised an eyebrow and looked nonplussed. “That’s not an excuse, much less a good one.”
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continued | @bastardbled
“Oh TRUST ME, I do –” Ramsay spoke, glancing over at his wife.
“I didn’t want to.”
Sansa raised an eyebrow and looked nonplussed. “That’s not an excuse, much less a good one.”
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continued | @gcldenscn
no one ever has faith in his ability to plan, perhaps he can’t blame them for that considering his past is littered with reckless decisions but he has a mind for battle and soldiers, more than that he has a mind for making soldiers want to follow him, always has. “well, perhaps not with that attitude. no one wants to die for someone that doesn’t seem like they believe their own plan will work.”
"Plans require more than just confidence," Lady Stark cautions. "And the men here have no love for Lannisters." This is a bit of an understatement, but Sansa knows she can trust that the knights from the Eyrie sworn to her service will follow Jaime because she commands it. "Still, I can't approve of this plan, it's too risky, and we can ill-afford to lose anything in the war for the living."
continued | @cruelxlittleshxt
“Finally awake. You will be glad to know that the horse that threw you off has been subsequently slaughtered; I’d say executed but it is just a dumb animal. It’s not just for your sake, but because I cannot have it doing the same to me and making me look bad. Besides, I have not tried horse-flesh yet.”
Golden eyebrows raise at the tumble of words coming out of her grandson's mouth. She smiles a little. "Of course not, dear, I hardly expect you to spare a thought avenging me when you have so many more kingly things to attend to. I am very honored to find you by my side as I wake."
continued | @lionoftherock
âťť and you are implying on my son? âťž choosing between her mother and her son is impossible. both of them have a very special place deep in her heart, a goddess, a pride, someone to look upon, and joffrey, on the other side, a firstborn, a special child, it is impossible to pick between the two probably most important family members of cersei. she is fully aware of this fact, joffrey would need much more knowledge of how to rule the seven kingdoms, and all he knows right now is, how to make orders, how to let his anger out. he is her little boy, her sweet child, overprotection perhaps takes place as she would pretty much support him in anything in order to keep him alive.
"I am not implying anything," she replies silkily, glancing out a window to the gardens of the Red Keep. "But if you are inferring something about my dear grandson from my statement, perhaps that says something on its own." She knows Joffrey has been entirely too indulged in his early years, and she wishes she had stayed in the capitol with her daughter instead of returning to the Rock. She may have had a chance of turning him into a prince worthy of being called Lannister, instead of a petulant brat.
continued | @longmayshereign-cersei
The words filled her with a sharp irritation and Cersei tried her best to keep a hold on her rage, though even with her mother it proved to be a hard task for her to manage.
The cup of Arbour Gold in her hands did not seem as sweet as it had been only a few moments ago and so Cersei placed it back down on the table and began to play with the loose thread on one of her sleeves, there seemed to be more of them as of late. She would need to deal with that foolish old seamstress.
“I am the Queen, Mother. I shall drink as much as it pleases me to do so.”
"Drinking dulls your senses, and when done to excess, dulled senses are more dangerous than your enemies." Joanna took her daughter's hand, making her release the sleeve. "When did this happen?" She frowned, looking at the dangling thread like it had personally affronted her. Which, in her mind, it more or less had.
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continued | @indominusjoff
The unfortunate thing was this: Joffrey was shamefully fond of his grandmother. She had always been gentler than Tywin, and a good skirt to hide behind if he happened to upset Tyrion or Jaime. As he grew older, though, started falling more into his own line than anyone else’s - taking after his father - her softness had started to harden.
And she seemed to think she had a place in telling him things like this.
“No one makes my choices for me, grandmother,” he replied, voice snipped with impatience.
"Just because you're the king does not mean you get to decide everything," Joanna corrected him, not a bit put off by his harsh tone. "Your marriage is one such thing that will not be left to the whims of a spoiled boy."
continued | @isylaofwyl
Her lady was all but quaking. The Mad King had been leering again, no doubt, spouting obscenities from his polluted trap. Isyla was quick to aid where the other ladies in wait dared not, she held Joanna’s hands between her own, gently attempting to comfort her.
“Soon you’ll be home, where he can’t bother you.” she soothed.
“Help me out of here.” Joanna’s voice was a quavering whisper. As they left the room, Joanna’s hands tight fists hidden in the long sleeves of her gown, she held her head high, kept her face bland and unbothered until they had traversed the whole of the keep to her rooms.
Once inside with the door closed, Joanna sank to her knees, and then onto the floor, hardly two steps from the door, red silk billowing around her like a pool of blood on the stones of her chamber. “Thank you,” she breathed, voice steady despite the tears beginning to run down her face.
continued | @agirlofmanyfacess
“We can and we will, I will see to it. You don’t have to worry anymore, Sansa. I’m getting you out of this mess, as a sister should do”
A low blow from the younger sister to the older, Sansa thought; but if it was an attempt on Arya’s part to call her to her senses, it was well-timed, and appropriate. “I’m sorry I was so foul to you, Arya,” she said, suddenly embracing the smaller girl with a sniffle.