charliebowater:

“Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

A little doodle for one the most beautiful lines from any poem, The Old Astronomer. Available on S6 for those who asked :)

mossworm:

my nephew showed me his horses in breath of the wild and I can’t stop thinking about neighbor

awildwickedslip:

i personally really liked the change to laena’s death because it is so strange and alien and offputting and targaryen for a woman to choose to be burned alive by her dragon as her method of death, and it tells us so much about laena as a character. the problem is simply we didn’t get more of her so it could really hit

awildwickedslip:

vhagar probably has dragon ptsd from having to immolate laena leave her alone!!!!

docpiplup:

Previous: the Hand’s private chambers

Feast by Tomislav Tomić

Peacocks were served in their plumage, roasted whole and stuffed with dates

Tyrion VIII, A Storm of Swords

docpiplup:

Previous: The Iron Throne

The Hand's private audience chamber by Adam Stower

The Hand's private audience chamber was not so large as the king’s, nor a patch on the vastness of the throne room, but Tyrion liked its Myrish rugs, wall hangings, and sense of intimacy. As he entered, his steward cried out, “Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King.” He liked that too.

Tyrion III, A Clash of Kings

jaydeewis:

“…And best of all, Lord Nestor’s cooks prepared a splendid subtlety, a lemon cake in the shape of the Giant’s Lance, twelve feet tall and adorned with an Eyrie made of sugar.
For me, Alayne thought, as they wheeled it out. Sweetrobin loved lemon cakes too, but only after she told him that they were her favorites. The cake had required every lemon in the Vale, but Petyr had promised that he would send to Dorne for more.”

jaydeewis:

“The Lord of White Harbor had furnished the food and drink, black stout and yellow beer and wines red and gold and purple, brought up from the warm south on fat-bottomed ships and aged in his deep cellars. The wedding guests gorged on cod cakes and winter squash, hills of neeps and great round wheels of cheese, on smoking slabs of mutton and beef ribs charred almost black, and lastly on three great wedding pies, as wide across as wagon wheels, their flaky crusts stuffed to bursting with carrots, onions, turnips, parsnips, mushrooms, and chunks of seasoned pork swimming in a savory brown gravy. Ramsay hacked off slices with his falchion and Wyman Manderly himself served, presenting the first steaming portions to Roose Bolton and his fat Frey wife, the next to Ser Hosteen and Ser Aenys, the sons of Walder Frey. “The best pie you have ever tasted, my lords,” the fat lord declared. “Wash it down with Arbor gold and savor every bite. I know I shall.”

jaydeewis:

“Joffrey and Margaery joined hands to lift the greatsword and swung it down together in a silvery arc. When the piecrust broke, the doves burst forth in a swirl of white feathers, scattering in every direction, flapping for the windows and the rafters. A roar of delight went up from the benches, and the fiddlers and pipers in the gallery began to play a sprightly tune. Joff took his bride in his arms, and whirled her around merrily.
A serving man placed a slice of hot pigeon pie in front of Tyrion and covered it with a spoon of lemon cream. The pigeons were well and truly cooked in this pie, but he found them no more appetizing than the white ones fluttering about the hall. Sansa was not eating either.”