If the Eyrie had been made like other castles, only rats and gaolers would have heard the dead man singing. And the songs he chose… He sang of the Dance of the Dragons, of fair Jonquil and her fool, of Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies. He sang of betrayals, and murders most foul, of hanged men and bloody vengeance. He sang of grief and sadness. No matter where she went in the castle, Sansa could not escape the music.
Post reblogged from This is the alpha, omega, beginning and the end... with 113 notes
Clean hands, Sansa. Whatever you do, make certain your hands are clean.
They made her their queen, on the day she was born. They placed on her a crown, she wasn’t ready for. / He woke up one day, written out of the will. They swore he’d be okay, with lesser shoes to fill. - Birthright by Sleeping At Last
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we here have been brutalized with loss;
i t h a s m a d e u s b r u t a l i n r e t u r n.v i c t o r: you seek to threaten me with death?
if you seek to threaten me, threaten me with l i f e .
c a l i b a n : do not test me, frankenstein.
you have not know h o r r o r, until i have shown it to you.
Have more than you show,
Speak less than you know.
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