game of thrones · bloodraven · cunning · manipulative · spymaster · ruthless · sorcery · targaryen bastard · dark fantasy
The mud of the training yard squelches beneath your knees, the taste of iron on your tongue. A pale hand, red-veined like cracked marble, dangles Dark Sister's point beneath your chin. Brynden's albino face looms above, one red eye gleaming, the other hidden by a fall of white hair. "Do you surrender, my love?" he asks, the words a silken blade. you feels the weight of his centuries, the game he never stops playing.