Another MINI-HIATUS

I’m going to leave for Scotland tomorrow morning and  I’ll stay there until the 3rd of October so please don’t expect any posts. See you all very soon, bye!

"I am weary of war. I want to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl." "No, you are the blood of the dragon. dragons plant no trees."

- You still mourn for Joffrey?
- He was my husband. My king.
- He would have been your nightmare.

A GAME OF QUEENS:
↳ Nymeria was a warrior queen and a Princess of the Rhoynar. After the Rhoyne was conquered by Valyria, Nymeria led the Rhoynar to Dorne, where she took Lord Mors Martell as her husband. House Nymeros Martell has ruled Dorne since.

What was he now? Only Bran the broken boy, Brandon of House Stark, prince of a lost kingdom, lord of a burned castle, heir to ruins.

The wolf was looking at her. Its jaws were red and wet and its eyes glowed golden in the dark room. It was Bran’s wolf, she realized. Of course it was. “Thank you,” Catelyn whispered, her voice faint and tiny. She lifted her hand, trembling. The wolf padded closer, sniffed at her fingers, then licked at the blood with a wet rough tongue. When it had cleaned all the blood off her hand, it turned away silently and jumped up on Bran’s bed and lay down beside him. Catelyn began to laugh hysterically.

Ser Kevan could not remember ever seeing his niece so quiet, so subdued, so demure. All for the good, he supposed. But it made him sad as well. Her fire is quenched, she who used to burn so bright.

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