#asong of ice and fire

[amorvincitomniamore]

Arya Stark and Edric Dayne

[atena75]

Bracelets for a Lhazareen woman.

Donna Karan | SS 2011

[jadedselfconclusion]

[malyen0retsev]

“You’re home.”

Requested fic - Theon enters the nightlands and finds Robb waiting for him. Inspiration taken from this post by @asong-of-thrones​

His chest was on fire. The dagger had felt at first like ice, then like fire, and it was all Theon could do to not fall to his knees there and then. He stared up at the King’s cold, frozen, eyes, and told himself not to be afraid.

He had saved his brother’s life - that was who Bran was, when it came down to it. He had protected Bran from wildlings before, years before, and Robb had asked him why he felt he had the right to do so. Standing shaking here now, feeling his blood leave his body (and his life with it), he realised he had his true answer.

Because Bran was his brother. He always had been. He always would be. Even as Theon shakily fell to his knees, his breath growing shorter and shorter, Bran’s words echoed in his ears. 

“Theon. You’re a good man. Thank you.”

He had repaid his debts to Bran, to the Starks. He was Theon Greyjoy, son of Balon Greyjoy; but he was also Theon Stark, son of Ned Stark, brother to Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, and Rickon Stark, and brother to Jon Snow. He was dying to protect his siblings - his siblings who had forgiven him. 

With one final breath, Theon keeled to the floor, stars dancing before his eyes. The pain in his chest eased, and the world went black. Then, suddenly - 

“You stupid fuck, what were you doing, you can’t just fucking run at the fucking Night King!”

He knew that voice. He would know it anywhere.

Theon felt his eyes flutter open. He was stood up again, and the pain in his chest was gone. He was wearing the soft, warm furs he had worn in Winterfell in years gone by - but the cloak was sealed with a golden kraken. The sky above him was dark; but a warm dark, not a cold, terrifying dark like the dark he had just seen. It was shot through with stars, glowing gold down onto the weirwood tree so similar to the one he had just been stood by.

He looked across to it, blinking so he knew his eyes weren’t deceiving him. 

And stood just across from him, one hand lightly resting on the tree trunk, was his brother. His closest friend. The man he had betrayed. Robb.

Except Robb was smiling. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and as Theon stared he removed his hand from the tree and spread his arms wide. “My brother,” he said quietly.

Theon felt himself move before he realised he was - he wasn’t limping, he realised. His body was healed. He tilted his head slightly as he slowly moved towards Robb. 

“At least I didn’t die at a fucking wedding,” he finally said, choking with the tears which were now constricting his throat.

Robb’s smile grew broader, and this time he was the one moving forwards. He closed the space between the two of them in three large strides, and threw his arms around Theon.

Gods, Theon had missed him. He had thought he’d known. But as his arms clamped around Robb, tears silently pouring down his cheeks, he realised he had never known how much he had missed Robb until this moment. 

“Thank you,” Robb murmured, still tightly holding Theon. “Thank you for what you did for my brothers and sisters - for our brothers and sisters.”

“You can see them?” Theon asked, breaking away to stare into his best friend’s face. Robb looked older than he remembered - he had a full beard where Theon only remembered light fluff. 

“I always see them,” Robb gestured at the tree. “I am with them always, whether they realise it or not. And you... you saved their lives.”

“They - they’ve won?” Theon gagged out.

Robb nodded, taking Theon’s elbow and moving it to the tree. “Look for yourself, Theon of House Greyjoy and House Stark.”

“Where am I?” Theon asked, just before he placed his hand onto the tree.

“Some call this the nightlands. Others the land of the Old Gods,” Robb shrugged, his hand tightening on Theon’s elbow. He was smiling again. “Some say it is where we wait for those we love until they are ready to join us in the land beyond.”

“You’ve been waiting?” Theon said shakily.

Robb nodded. “You’re my brother. I’m so proud of you. Of course I waited.” He swallowed. “But what do I call this place? I call it home. It is home. And you’re home now, Theon Greyjoy. The world can’t hurt you anymore. You’re home, with me, my brother.”

“Now and always,” Theon said, a smile growing across his face.

“Now. And always,” Robb agreed.

And together, they reached for the tree, to watch the siblings they loved so dearly in the world below fight for the living.

[bogdevilblog]

#ASongOfMadness begins today, 3/32020. A tourney of book characters from ASong of Ice and Fire, The Hedge Knight, and Fire and Blood. All the Twitteros community come together every year for 6 weeks of agony, pain, regret and misery in this championship tournament of their favourites. Please join us on Twitter @davosfingers .

You can also follow me @beyond_wall for Meera Reed updates, trash talk and general mayhem, which is mostly why I'm into this horrible, horrible, tournament.

I drew a first round bye this year, so with your support, I have a good chance to make a run for it this year.

#ASongOfMadness #VoteMeeraReed2020 🐊🔱🍃💚

[kero-sabry-blog]

A mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone ,if it is to keep its edge...

_George.R.R.martin -game of Thrones Asong of ice and fire

#writing #read #quote #kero #benefit #firstly #post #daily #fun #hope #smile #french

_George.R.R.martin

[eleanorvalentino]

Margery Tyrell

Margery's role is in direct competition to Cersei. They are both queens of Westeros. The traditional conflict between mother and daughter-in-law is brilliantly acted out on the pages of GRRM's Song of Ice and Fire. Cersei Lannister feels threatened, not only by Margery's beauty but by her political power. Where Cersei is isolated, Margery surrounds herself with loyal family, friends and servants. Where Cersei uses wrath and Margery uses love. They are conflicting female archetypes, both striving for the other's demise.

[lee-yan-druh]

If ice can burn, then love and hate can mate.

-A Storm of Swords, George R.R. Martin

[winginoverthings-blog]

Omg, I just read the funniest thing in a Tumblr post: "Ned was raised by the most Arryn to ever Arryn, the foolishly noble Jon Arryn"

[kokohbop]

A Clash of Kings

Damn, your sass Tyrion.