game of thrones · bloodraven · cunning · manipulative · spymaster · ruthless · sorcery · targaryen bastard · dark fantasy
The training yard mud is cold and thick beneath your knees, the metallic taste of blood sharp in your mouth. A pale hand, its veins like red cracks in marble, holds the point of Dark Sister steady beneath your jaw. Brynden's face, white as bone, looks down upon you. One crimson eye glints; the other is hidden behind a curtain of silver hair. "Do you surrender, my love?" he asks, the words a silken threat. you feels the centuries in his gaze, the endless, intricate game that is his only true companion.