CREATORHUB SUMMER EVENT 2021 DAY 01: COLOUR ↳ Daenerys in red
CREATORHUB SUMMER EVENT 2021 DAY 01: COLOUR ↳ Daenerys in red
If they don’t use a wig, Eve’s Magical Unicorn Hair is gonna THRIVE in HoD!!! I’m excited (I hope they don’t ruin it)
*Link for character reference
a sketch of my favorite boi daeron the first 😭❤️🩹
𝓡𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓷𝔂𝓼, 𝓐𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓷, 𝓛𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪
Princessa Rhaenys, Aegon and Lyannna Lyanna is pregnant with Jon.
Lyanna: That's ridiculous. Rhaegar doesn't have a crush on me.
Jamie: Yes he does.
Arthur: Yes he does.
Barristan: Yes he does.
Howland: Yes he does.
Rhaegar: Yes I do.
✨💖 The Princess’s Lady 💖✨ “Whilst Princess Rhaenyra misliked her stepmother, Queen Alicent, she became fond and more than fond of her good-sister Lady Laena.” #FireAndBlood. _________________________________________ Super hot girlfriends being flirty flirty 🏳️🌈🥰 I said I’m not a fan of colored lashes, but I really wanna try how they look and honestly, not that bad! However, I do still like them with normal dark colored lashes for some reason….
Here, Rhaenyra is wearing The Empress Of Leng’s jade tiara, infamously gifted to her by Prince Daemon. She also doubles it with a garnet embedded gold ringlet (paired w/ garnet earrings), a gift from Laena’s mother: Princes Rhaenys (TQWNW). She also wears her idol and ancestor, Visenya Targaryen’s necklace (seen in my previous illustration!). She’s dressed in, ofc her royal highness loves them, golden Myrish laces and crimson velvet dress. Laena on the other hand, opt for something simpler but expensive: Her dress is made of deep Velaryon colored silk, with gabardine base and baby pearls as it’s trimmings. Her earrings are her sigil, carved from purple colored ceramic, made in Lys ✨
part i: Rhoyne and Dorne
RHOYNE: to start with the Mother Rhoyne, The Rhoynish Wars, and Nymeria of Ny Sar.
Rhoyne - the concept of a collection of city states ruled by princes and princesses with gender equality in terms of inheritance as well as in other ways, but i don’t remember for sure. the Rhoynar were one of the most powerful empires/kingdoms/countries at the time.
The Rhoynish Wars - i like that this collection of city states with its water magic and princes went to war with the greatest civilization known to man. there were many of these Rhoynish wars the last of these was the second spice war. where for the first time in Rhoynish history and possibly (conjecture) in Valyrian history that a nation had forced the Valyrian Freehold to focus entirely on a singular nation. this means that they were enough of a threat (to Volantis and Valyria) to require the full attention. I do not think that that the Rhoynish could have ever defeated Valyria in terms of taking it over, but no other nation (except i think Old Ghis) has forced Valyria to do anything.
Nymeria - this women is an ICON. she argued against a war which she thought would end in fire and blood, and the death of her people. instead of giving up she collected all the Rhoynish she could not just those of Ny Sar in an attempt to save her people. Nymeria when she arrived in Dorne starts a war and marries a lower lord, Mors Martell who was a bannerman of the Blood royal of Yronwood. This is not simply a war of conquest, but a war of survival for the rhoynish. they have no home, they suffered in Naath, and now them and their culture is at risk of extinction. Once she’s won this war, Nymeria’s War, princess Nymeria keeps her first child a daughter with Mors who died before she won the war is her heir. SO we know that she introduced similar if no the same inheritance customs and gender equality into Dorne under her rulership. BUT she also assimilated to the Dornish Cultre. She merged her house with that of the Martell’s instead of creating a new one. while she did create a new capital Sun Spear and kept the titles of prince and princess, it is not a symbol of Rhoynish superiority. it is a symbol of unification. the Dornish are represented by the spear a symbol of Martells and the Rhoynar are represented by the sun the symbol of the Rhoynar or Ny Sar. SHE also married an Yronwood and a Dayne.
DORNE: Dornish culture and geography, Meria Martell and the Dornish Wars, House Dayne, and House Yronwood
Dornish Culture - the Dornish Culture is my favorite in the 7 kingdoms. first off theres the views of love with paramours, bastards, and homosexuality. to this section start off with paramours and marriage. the Dornish have marriage mostly as a poltical thing because they seem not care for marital faithfulness. in a marriage BOTH people the husband and wife are known to have paramours. their children outside of marriage are not looked down on for being bastards. homosexuality and bisexuality are the only aspects of lgbtqia+ we see accepted in Dorne so far, but that does not mean we will not any others. The Dornish are very sexually driven/ hot blooded is also very interesting to me especially for a “mid evil” world.
Dornish Geograohy - the geography of Dorne is so cool to me. as someone who loves rivers, mountains, and deserts it makes me happy. the way the geography has influenced the political landscape and story is one of my favorite parts. The Red Mounts and desert give Dorne some very powerful natural defenses to invaders. as well as the climate gives the Dornish a very like harsh, independent temperament. The Dornish Wars with especially regarding Aegon i conquest of westros and his failure to conquer Dorne. George R. R. Martin said he based Dorne off of Wales, Palestine, and Spain. I would love to hear what part of those three influenced what.
Meria Martell and the Dornish Wars- Meria is arguably my favorite Dornish person from antiquity besides Nymeria. during the conquest of 7 Kingdoms the Dornish ALONE of all 7 kingdoms resisted the Targaryens and successfully killed a dragon Meraxes. instead of trying to fight in a traditional way like the Valemen or Harren the Black both who lost to the Targaryens, the Dornish WON sorta by adopting hit and run tactics, gorilla warfare, and by completely abandoning cities and castles. Even when Meria officially was peaceful she purposely did nothing to stop the rebellion of the Dornish people and their lords. Meria was called the yellow toad of Dorne which is pretty cool and a nod to how Dorne kinda poisons the Targaryens whenever they invade. She truly embodied the words of House Nymeros Martell. Unbowed Unbent Unbroken. Dorne maintianed its independence partly due to her.
House Dayne - House Dayne is one of my favorite Houses in all of ASOIAF. they look like classic valyrians, but martin has said they are not. they hold a sword that is said to be more powerful than a Valyrian Steele sword. the weilder of the sword is called the Sword of the Morning. It is not wielded by the heir but by the one who is most worthy to. they have relations to celestial bodies Morining, Starfall, Darkstar, Starfire, Sword of the Morning, Sword of the Evening, and Dawn the sword of House Dayne. their CLEAR support for Rhaegar Targaryen in the rebellion is intriguing. Both Lady Ashara Dayne and Arthur Dayne were close with Rhaegar and Elia. The theories surrounding them are incredibly intriguing.
Houses Yronwood, Uller, and Wyl - this one is much shorter because i like each of these for one or two reasons and thats it.
Yronwood - the ruler of House Yronwood before and after the arivial of Nymeria of Ny Sar is known as The Blood Royal. this title i think is incredibly cool. the Yronwoods are the second most powerful house of Dorne after Martell which puts them ahead of House Dayne.
Uller - House Uller are lords of Hellholt which is a dope ass name. the river Hellholt is built on is called the Brimstone again super cool. Elaria Sand is is the “natural borne” daughter of Lord Harman Uller Lord of Hellholt. The Ullers also supported Nymeria in Nymeria’s War. Nymeria also married an Uller after the death of Mors Martell before she married Daavos Dayne the Sword of the Morning.
Wyl - the wyls are arguably the most rebellious house during the Dornish Wars. They were cruel and ruthless and i just find them fascinating.
i am so sorry about how long this was and it is only part one. should i break these up in the future?
Daenerys in Meereen.
Could this be Baby Rhaenyra? 💕
The kingsmoot in Aeron’s POV in A Feast for Crows shows the Ironborn lords and captains selecting the next king to wear the Driftwood Crown after Balon’s death. Each candidate gives a speech for their pitch and disburses treasure as a way of buying support. There are six candidates total from Greyjoys to more obscure lords. However, look more closely and you can find an allegory for the political situation of Westeros as a whole.
Lord Gylbert began to speak. He told of a wondrous land beyond the Sunset Sea, a land without winter or want, where death had no dominion. "Make me your king, and I shall lead you there," he cried. "We will build ten thousand ships as Nymeria once did and take sail with all our people to the land beyond the sunset. There every man shall be a king and every wife a queen."
His eyes, Aeron saw, were now grey, now blue, as changeable as the seas. Mad eyes, he thought, fool's eyes. The vision he spoke of was doubtless a snare set by the Storm God to lure the ironborn to destruction. The offerings that his men spilled out before the kingsmoot included sealskins and walrus tusks, arm rings made of whalebone, warhorns banded in bronze. The captains looked and turned away, leaving lesser men to help themselves to the gifts. When the fool was done talking and his champions began to shout his name, only the Farwynds took up the cry, and not even all of them. Soon enough the cries of "Gylbert! Gylbert King!" faded away to silence. The gull screamed loudly above them, and landed atop one of Nagga's ribs as the Lord of the Lonely Light made his way back down the hill.
Gylbert Fawynd is clearly mad, as even Aeron notes. His eyes were described “as changeable as the seas.” Gilbert is Mad King Aerys, a madman whose house’s bid by the end is left only supported by itself.
The speaker was borne up the hill in a carved driftwood chair carried on the shoulders of his grandsons. A great ruin of a man, twenty stones heavy and ninety years old, he was cloaked in a white bearskin. His own hair was snow white as well, and his huge beard covered him like a blanket from cheeks to thighs, so it was hard to tell where the beard ended and the pelt began. Though his grandsons were great strapping men, they struggled with his weight on the steep stone steps. Before the Grey King's Hall they set him down, and three remained below him as his champions.
Sixty years ago, this one might well have won the favor of the moot, Aeron thought, but his hour is long past.
"Aye, me!" the man roared from where he sat, in a voice as huge as he was. "Why not? Who better? I am Erik Ironmaker, for them who's blind. Erik the Just. Erik Anvil-Breaker. Show them my hammer, Thormor." One of his champions lifted it up for all to see; a monstrous thing it was, its haft wrapped in old leather, its head a brick of steel as large as a loaf of bread. "I can't count how many hands I've smashed to pulp with that hammer," Erik said, "but might be some thief could tell you. I can't say how many heads I've crushed against my anvil neither, but there's some widows could. I could tell you all the deeds I've done in battle, but I'm eight-and-eighty and won't live long enough to finish. If old is wise, no one is wiser than me. If big is strong, no one's stronger. You want a king with heirs? I've more'n I can count. King Erik, aye, I like the sound o' that. Come, say it with me. ERIK! ERIK ANVIL-BREAKER! ERIK KING!"
As his grandsons took up the cry, their own sons came forward with chests upon their shoulders. When they upended them at the base of the stone steps, a torrent of silver, bronze, and steel spilled forth; arm rings, collars, daggers, dirks, and throwing axes. A few captains snatched up the choicest items and added their voices to the swelling chant. But no sooner had the cry begun to build than a woman's voice cut through it. "Erik!" Men moved aside to let her through. With one foot on the lowest step, she said, "Erik, stand up."
A hush fell. The wind blew, waves broke against the shore, men murmured in each other's ears. Erik Ironmaker stared down at Asha Greyjoy. "Girl. Thrice-damned girl. What did you say?"
"Stand up, Erik," she called. "Stand up and I'll shout your name with all the rest. Stand up and I'll be the first to follow you. You want a crown, aye. Stand up and take it." Elsewhere in the press, the Crow's Eye laughed. Erik glared at him. The big man's hands closed tight around the arms of his driftwood throne. His face went red, then purple. His arms trembled with effort. Aeron could see a thick blue vein pulsing in his neck as he struggled to rise. For a moment it seemed as though he might do it, but the breath went out of him all at once, and he groaned and sank back onto his cushion. Euron laughed all the louder. The big man hung his head and grew old, all in the blink of an eye. His grandsons carried him back down the hill.
Erik Ironmaker is up next, a warrior of great repute on the Iron Isles known for strength and ferocity, his warhammer, and virility, but he clearly is not the man he once was in his youth. Erik Ironmaker is Robert Baratheon, a once powerful warrior and embodiment of society’s ideals of masculinity gone to seed with his glory days far behind him. In the end, House Baratheon couldn’t stand on its own two feet with Renly and Stannis’s attempts to retake the Iron Throne ending in failure.
The Drumm came next, another old man, though not so old as Erik. He climbed the hill on his own two legs, and on his hip rode Red Rain, his famous sword, forged of Valyrian steel in the days before the Doom. His champions were men of note: his sons Denys and Donnel, both stout fighters, and between them Andrik the Unsmiling, a giant of a man with arms as thick as trees. It spoke well of the Drumm that such a man would stand for him.
"Where is it written that our king must be a kraken?" Drumm began. "What right has Pyke to rule us? Great Wyk is the largest isle, Harlaw the richest, Old Wyk the most holy. When the black line was consumed by dragonfire, the ironborn gave the primacy to Vickon Greyjoy, aye . . . but as lord, not king."
It was a good beginning. Aeron heard shouts of approval, but they dwindled as the old man began to tell of the glory of the Drumms. He spoke of Dale the Dread, Roryn the Reaver, the hundred sons of Gormond Drumm the Oldfather. He drew Red Rain and told them how Hilmar Drumm the Cunning had taken the blade from an armored knight with wits and a wooden cudgel. He spoke of ships long lost and battles eight hundred years forgotten, and the crowd grew restive. He spoke and spoke, and then he spoke still more.
And when Drumm's chests were thrown open, the captains saw the niggard's gifts he'd brought them. No throne was ever bought with bronze, the Damphair thought. The truth of that was plain to hear, as the cries of "Drumm! Drumm! Dunstan King!" died away.
Lord Dunstan Drumm is up next. He is noted to be younger than the previous candidate, and he has a Valyrian steel sword named Red Rain, which likely came from a Reyne. He starts off well, pointing out that there is no historical precedent that says only Greyjoys could only be kings over the Iron Isles. However, he just goes on and on about his ancestors’ accomplishments to bolster his credentials, boring everyone and his gifts are pretty cheap. His candidacy ultimately crashes and burns in the end.
Drumm is Tywin Lannister. Andrik’s description as a large man with “arms as thick as trees” matches Ned’s description of the Lannister’s champion, Gregor Clegane, and another champion being Tywin’s son, Jaime, himself a stout warrior of note. Tywin prides in his crushing of the Reynes in their rebellion (taking their lands after he exterminated them), with a song made about it that he plays at events, showing his obsession with the glory of his house. His house has a good start holding the Iron Throne after the Battle of the Blackwater with the backing of Highgarden, only for them to likely lose it all in the end. The Lannisters never really had any bold ideas other than holding onto power, and as Aeron put it “no throne was ever bought with bronze,” or no house can hold onto the throne with the poor offerings they have, or nothing in the way of vision.
Who shall be king over us?" the priest cried once more, but this time his fierce black eyes found his brother in the crowd. "Nine sons were born from the loins of Quellon Greyjoy. One was mightier than all the rest, and knew no fear."
Victarion met his eyes, and nodded. The captains parted before him as he climbed the steps. "Brother, give me blessing," he said when he reached the top. He knelt and bowed his head. Aeron uncorked his waterskin and poured a stream of seawater down upon his brow. "What is dead can never die," the priest said, and Victarion replied, "but rises again, harder and stronger."
When Victarion rose, his champions arrayed themselves beneath him; Ralf the Limper, Red Ralf Stonehouse, and Nute the Barber, noted warriors all. Stonehouse bore the Greyjoy banner; the golden kraken on a field as black as the midnight sea. As soon as it unfurled, the captains and the kings began to shout out the Lord Captain's name. Victarion waited till they quieted, then said, "You all know me. If you want sweet words, look elsewhere. I have no singer's tongue. I have an axe, and I have these." He raised his huge mailed hands up to show them, and Nute the Barber displayed his axe, a fearsome piece of steel. "I was a loyal brother," Victarion went on. "When Balon was wed, it was me he sent to Harlaw to bring him back his bride. I led his longships into many a battle, and never lost but one. The first time Balon took a crown, it was me sailed into Lannisport to singe the lion's tail. The second time, it was me he sent to skin the Young Wolf should he come howling home. All you'll get from me is more of what you got from Balon. That's all I have to say."
With that his champions began to chant: "VICTARION! VICTARION! VICTARION KING!" Below, his men were spilling out his chests, a cascade of silver, gold, and gems, a wealth of plunder. Captains scrambled to seize the richest pieces, shouting as they did so. "VICTARION! VICTARION! VICTARION KING!" Aeron watched the Crow's Eye. Will he speak now, or let the kingsmoot run its course? Orkwood of Orkmont was whispering in Euron's ear.
Victarion Greyjoy is next, the youngest of Balon Greyjoy’s brothers of HOuse Greyjoy that rules over the isles. He has the backing as well as blessing of the priest presiding over the kingsmoot, Aeron. He promotes himself as a traditionalist, offering just a continuation of the old policies and plays up the image of a warrior king. For the moment he stands out from the other candidates with plunder he gives out.
Victarion is Aegon, the (supposed) scion of the old dynasty that sat the Iron Throne, and youngest known child of Rhaegar who promises just a continuation of the ancien regime of House Targaryen, and will likely be receiving the backing and blessing of the High Septon.
However, he isn’t the only from his house pressing a claim as someone crashes his party.
But it was not Euron who put an end to the shouting, it was the woman. She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled, a sharp shrill sound that cut through the tumult like a knife through curds. "Nuncle! Nuncle!" Bending, she snatched up a twisted golden collar and bounded up the steps. Nute seized her by the arm, and for half a heartbeat Aeron was hopeful that his brother's champions would keep her silent, but Asha wrenched free of the Barber's hand and said something to Red Ralf that made him step aside. As she pushed past, the cheering died away. She was Balon Greyjoy's daughter, and the crowd was curious to hear her speak.
"It was good of you to bring such gifts to my queensmoot, Nuncle," she told Victarion, "but you need not have worn so much armor. I promise not to hurt you." Asha turned to face the captains. "There's no one braver than my nuncle, no one stronger, no one fiercer in a fight. And he counts to ten as quick as any man, I have seen him do it . . . though when he needs to go to twenty he does take off his boots." That made them laugh. "He has no sons, though. His wives keep dying. The Crow's Eye is his elder and has a better claim . . ."
"He does!" the Red Oarsman shouted from below.
“Ah, but my claim is better still." Asha set the collar on her head at a jaunty angle, so the gold gleamed against her dark hair. "Balon's brother cannot come before Balon's son!"
"Balon's sons are dead," cried Ralf the Limper. "All I see is Balon's little daughter!"
. . .
"Go home and know your wife," Asha shot back. "Nuncle says he'll give you more of what my father gave you. Well, what was that? Gold and glory, some will say. Freedom, ever sweet. Aye, it's so, he gave us that . . . and widows too, as Lord Blacktyde will tell you. How many of you had your homes put to the torch when Robert came? How many had daughters raped and despoiled? Burnt towns and broken castles, my father gave you that. Defeat was what he gave you. Nuncle here will give you more. Not me."
. . .
"And what have we grasped, Nuncle? The north? What is that, but leagues and leagues of leagues and leagues, far from the sound of the sea? We have taken Moat Cailin, Deepwood Motte, Torrhen's Square, even Winterfell. What do we have to show for it?" She beckoned, and her Black Wind men pushed forward, chests of oak and iron on their shoulders. "I give you the wealth of the Stony Shore," Asha said as the first was upended. An avalanche of pebbles clattered forth, cascading down the steps; pebbles grey and black and white, worn smooth by the sea. "I give you the riches of Deepwood," she said, as the second chest was opened. Pinecones came pouring out, to roll and bounce down into the crowd. "And last, the gold of Winterfell." From the third chest came yellow turnips, round and hard and big as a man's head. They landed amidst the pebbles and the pinecones. Asha stabbed one with her dirk. "Harmund Sharp," she shouted, "your son Harrag died at Winterfell, for this." She pulled the turnip off her blade and tossed it to him. "You have other sons, I think. If you'd trade their lives for turnips, shout my nuncle's name!"
"And if I shout your name?" Harmund demanded. "What then?"
"Peace," said Asha. "Land. Victory. I'll give you Sea Dragon Point and the Stony Shore, black earth and tall trees and stones enough for every younger son to build a hall. We'll have the northmen too . . . as friends, to stand with us against the Iron Throne. Your choice is simple. Crown me, for peace and victory. Or crown my nuncle, for more war and more defeat." She sheathed her dirk again. "What will you have, ironmen?"
"VICTORY!" shouted Rodrik the Reader, his hands cupped about his mouth. "Victory, and Asha!"
"ASHA!" Lord Baelor Blacktyde echoed. "ASHA QUEEN!"
Asha's own crew took up the cry. "ASHA! ASHA! ASHA QUEEN!" They stamped their feet and shook their fists and yelled, as the Damphair listened in disbelief. She would leave her father's work undone! Yet Tristifer Botley was shouting for her, with many Harlaws, some Goodbrothers, red-faced Lord Merlyn, more men than the priest would ever have believed . . . for a woman!
Victarion is challenged by his niece, Asha. Asha is the daughter of the old king described as mad, and though younger, is smarter than her uncle (although to be fair Victarion doesn’t set the bar too high). Asha has the backing of the Reader, lord of the wealthiest house on the Iron Isles. She points out that what Victarion is offering is a continuation of a failed policy that brought only defeat and disgrace, and promises peace and victory instead. She offers land and allying with the North, of course, missing that their invasion and supposed killing of Ned’s sons by Theon made that impossible.
Asha is Daenerys who is the daughter of Mad King Aerys, the only female claimant and is backed by a bibliophile who is lord (though not officially) over the wealthiest seat in the land, Tyrion. She will likely be offering a new policy that is in some way a break.
But others were holding their tongues, or muttering asides to their neighbors. "No craven's peace!" Ralf the Limper roared. Red Ralf Stonehouse swirled the Greyjoy banner and bellowed, "Victarion! VICTARION! VICTARION!" Men began to shove at one another. Someone flung a pinecone at Asha's head. When she ducked, her makeshift crown fell off. For a moment it seemed to the priest as if he stood atop a giant anthill, with a thousand ants in a boil at his feet. Shouts of "Asha!" and "Victarion!" surged back and forth, and it seemed as though some savage storm was about to engulf them all. The Storm God is amongst us, the priest thought, sowing fury and discord.
There seems to be a split among the Ironborn between the two major candidates from House Greyjoy: Asha and Victarion. This likely foreshadows the conflict between Targaryen supporters with Aegon and Dany in the second Dance of Dragons. Of course, just as Asha’s makeshift crown falls from her head, Daenerys likely won’t get to keep her crown in the end as another claimant comes forward.
Note: it was after a pinecone is thrown at her, which came from the North.
Sharp as a swordthrust, the sound of a horn split the air.
The squabbling is interrupted by a sorcerous horn. I think the hellhorn as Aeron called it is the Horn of Joramun (or hellhorn as Melisandre described it) that brings down the Wall, and exposes Westeros to the threat of the Long Night.
Euron Greyjoy climbed the hill slowly, with every eye upon him. Above the gull screamed and screamed again. No godless man may sit the Seastone Chair, Aeron thought, but he knew that he must let his brother speak. His lips moved silently in prayer.
Asha's champions stepped aside, and Victarion's as well. The priest took a step backward and put one hand upon the cold rough stone of Nagga's ribs. The Crow's Eye stopped atop the steps, at the doors of the Grey King's Hall, and turned his smiling eye upon the captains and the kings, but Aeron could feel his other eye as well, the one that he kept hidden.
"IRONMEN," said Euron Greyjoy, "you have heard my horn. Now hear my words. I am Balon's brother, Quellon's eldest living son. Lord Vickon's blood is in my veins, and the blood of the Old Kraken. Yet I have sailed farther than any of them. Only one living kraken has never known defeat. Only one has never bent his knee. Only one has sailed to Asshai by the Shadow, and seen wonders and terrors beyond imagining . . ."
"If you liked the Shadow so well, go back there," called out pink-cheeked Qarl the Maid, one of Asha's champions.
The Crow's Eye ignored him. "My little brother would finish Balon's war, and claim the north. My sweet niece would give us peace and pinecones." His blue lips twisted in a smile. "Asha prefers victory to defeat. Victarion wants a kingdom, not a few scant yards of earth. From me, you shall have both.
"Crow's Eye, you call me. Well, who has a keener eye than the crow? After every battle the crows come in their hundreds and their thousands to feast upon the fallen. A crow can espy death from afar. And I say that all of Westeros is dying. Those who follow me will feast until the end of their days.
"We are the ironborn, and once we were conquerors. Our writ ran everywhere the sound of the waves was heard. My brother would have you be content with the cold and dismal north, my niece with even less . . . but I shall give you Lannisport. Highgarden. The Arbor. Oldtown. The riverlands and the Reach, the kingswood and the rainwood, Dorne and the marches, the Mountains of the Moon and the Vale of Arryn, Tarth and the Stepstones. I say we take it all! I say, we take Westeros." He glanced at the priest. "All for the greater glory of our Drowned God, to be sure."
For half a heartbeat even Aeron was swept away by the boldness of his words. The priest had dreamed the same dream, when first he'd seen the red comet in the sky. We shall sweep over the green lands with fire and sword, root out the seven gods of the septons and the white trees of the northmen . . .
"EURON!" shouted Left-Hand Lucas Codd.
"EURON! CROW'S EYE! EURON!" cried the Red Oarsman.
The mutes and mongrels from the Silence threw open Euron's chests and spilled out his gifts before the captains and the kings. Then it was Hotho Harlaw the priest heard, as he filled his hands with gold. Gorold Goodbrother shouted out as well, and Erik Anvil-Breaker. "EURON! EURON! EURON!" The cry swelled, became a roar. "EURON! EURON! CROW'S EYE! EURON KING!" It rolled up Nagga's hill, like the Storm God rattling the clouds. "EURON! EURON! EURON! EURON! EURON! EURON!"
The final claimant comes forward, Euron “Crow’s Eye” Greyjoy. As he boasts, he has gone further than Greyjoy before, going as far as Asshai by the Shadow and Valyria (which is a lie), and he had been a longtime away from home due to being exiled by Balon for having slept with or rather raped, Victarion’s salt wife. He is the black sheep of the family, captain of the Silence rowed by a crew of mutes. He offers the greatest plunder of all the candidates combined with offering the grandest vision, promising the Ironborn all of Westeros.
Euron is, I think, Jon Snow, who like Euron is associated with a crow (synonym for member of the Night’s Watch), ventured further than any Targaryen before him going beyond the Wall, will likely be the last person to put their claim forward and will likely offer the grandest vision. Just as Euron has mute supporters, Jon has the mute direwolf, Ghost, as well as people who remained mute about his royal heritage. He was in hiding for a while given he is the son of the man who had taken the arranged wife of Robert and impregnated her. He will likely appear after the Horn of Joramun is likely blown, bringing the Wall down.
Tyanna of the Tower aka Tyanna of Pentos, the third wife of Maegor "the Cruel" Targaryen
She was the king's raven, his mistress of whispers, and supposedly quite fond of the torture.
I don't know if I like this coloring style but I really need to use references. The lighting on this was confusing
I'll start posting these on Instagram and I'm taking donations at ko-fi
because wolves are presented in such a good and positive light in tolkienverse right? oh wait-
my bad finrod died fighting a dragon. and it was a dragon that bit off beren’s hand, then killed him. and it was of course the same dragon that went on a rampage across beleriand and killed huan. sauron’s servants were dragons, not wolves and he himself was wont to take the shape of a great dragon, certainly not a wolf. and of course sauron and morgoth’s armies went to battle riding dragons, most certainly not wargs. where did i even get such silly notions from? i must have read the wrong books. only dragons bad, wolves always good!
moving on of course what could have possibly made people think that daenerys and dragons are essential to win the battle for the dawn and the targaryens are the central piece to a prophecy about saving the world from the literal apocalypse? what in the world?! unbelievable! there is certainly nothing in the books that might suggest this! right?
Sam rolled onto his side, eyes wide as the Other shrank and puddled, dissolving away. In twenty heartbeats its flesh was gone, swirling away in a fine white mist. Beneath were bones like milkglass, pale and shiny, and they were melting too. Finally only the dragonglass dagger remained, wreathed in steam as if it were alive and sweating. Grenn bent to scoop it up and flung it down again at once. "Mother, that's cold."
"Obsidian." Sam struggled to his knees. "Dragonglass, they call it. Dragonglass. Dragon glass." He giggled, and cried, and doubled over to heave his courage out onto the snow. - A Storm of Swords, Samwell I
"We knew all this. The question is, how do we fight them?"
"The armor of the Others is proof against most ordinary blades, if the tales can be believed, and their own swords are so cold they shatter steel. Fire will dismay them, though, and they are vulnerable to obsidian. I found one account of the Long Night that spoke of the last hero slaying Others with a blade of dragonsteel. Supposedly they could not stand against it." - A Dance with Dragons, Jon II
We will see, Jon thought, remembering the things that Sam had told him, the things he'd found in his old books. Longclaw had been forged in the fires of old Valyria, forged in dragonflame and set with spells. Dragonsteel, Sam called it. Stronger than any common steel, lighter, harder, sharper … But words in a book were one thing. The true test came in battle. -A Dance with Dragons, Jon XII
"No," the old man said. "It must be you. Tell them. The prophecy . . . my brother's dream . . . Lady Melisandre has misread the signs. Stannis . . . Stannis has some of the dragon blood in him, yes. His brothers did as well. Rhaelle, Egg's little girl, she was how they came by it . . . their father's mother . . . she used to call me Uncle Maester when she was a little girl. I remembered that, so I allowed myself to hope . . . perhaps I wanted to . . . we all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that . . . light without heat . . . an empty glamor . . . the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam. Daenerys is our hope." -A Feast for Crows, Samwell IV
He asked Sam to read for him from a book by Septon Barth, whose writings had been burned during the reign of Baelor the Blessed. Once he woke up weeping. "The dragon must have three heads," he wailed, "but I am too old and frail to be one of them. I should be with her, showing her the way, but my body has betrayed me." -A Feast for Crows, Samwell IV
If indeed this first fortress is Valyrian, it suggests that the dragonlords came to Westeros thousands of years before they carved out their outpost on Dragonstone, long before the coming of the Andals, or even the First Men (…) Septon Barth's claim that the Valyrians came to Westeros because their priests prophesied that the Doom of Man would come out of the land beyond the narrow sea can safely be dismissed as nonsense, as can many of Barth's queerer beliefs and suppositions. -The World of Ice and Fire - The Reach: Oldtown
"I'm not stupid, ser." Egg lowered his voice. "Someday the dragons will return. My brother Daeron's dreamed of it, and King Aerys read it in a prophecy. Maybe it will be my egg that hatches. That would be splendid." -The Mystery Knight
Rhaegar took no interest in the play of other children. The maesters were awed by his wits, but his father's knights would jest sourly that Baelor the Blessed had been born again. Until one day Prince Rhaegar found something in his scrolls that changed him. No one knows what it might have been, only that the boy suddenly appeared early one morning in the yard as the knights were donning their steel. He walked up to Ser Willem Darry, the master-at-arms, and said, 'I will require sword and armor. It seems I must be a warrior.'" -A Storm of Swords, Daenerys I
"He has a song," the man replied. "He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire." He looked up when he said it and his eyes met Dany's, and it seemed as if he saw her standing there beyond the door. "There must be one more," he said, though whether he was speaking to her or the woman in the bed she could not say. "The dragon has three heads." -A Clash of Kings, Daenerys IV
Heraldic banners had long been a tradition amongst the lords of Westeros, but such had never been used by the dragonlords of old Valyria. When Aegon’s knights unfurled his great silken battle standard, with a red three- headed dragon breathing fire upon a black field, the lords took it for a sign that he was now truly one of them, a worthy high king for Westeros. -Fire and Blood - Aegon’s Conquest
“In some sense he (Aegon the Dragon) saw what was coming, three hundred years later, and wanted to unify the Seven Kingdoms to be better prepared for the threat that he eventually saw coming from the North. The threat that we are dealing with in A Song of Ice and Fire.” -GRRM (x)
And he looked past the Wall, past endless forests cloaked in snow, past the frozen shore and the great blue-white rivers of ice and the dead plains where nothing grew or lived. North and north and north he looked, to the curtain of light at the end of the world, and then beyond that curtain. He looked deep into the heart of winter, and then he cried out, afraid, and the heat of his tears burned on his cheeks. -A Game of Thrones, Bran III
Perched above her, the dragon spread his wings and tore at the terrible dark heart, ripping the rotten flesh to ribbons, and when his head snapped forward, fire flew from his open jaws, bright and hot. She could hear the shrieks of the Undying as they burned, their high thin papery voices crying out in tongues long dead. Their flesh was crumbling parchment, their bones dry wood soaked in tallow. They danced as the flames consumed them; they staggered and writhed and spun and raised blazing hands on high, their fingers bright as torches. -A Clash of Kings, Daenerys IV
"… don't want to wake the dragon …"
The red door was so far ahead of her, and she could feel the icy breath behind, sweeping up on her. If it caught her she would die a death that was more than death, howling forever alone in the darkness. She began to run. -A Game of Thrones, Daenerys IX
"… want to wake the dragon …"
Ghosts lined the hallway, dressed in the faded raiment of kings. In their hands were swords of pale fire. They had hair of silver and hair of gold and hair of platinum white, and their eyes were opal and amethyst, tourmaline and jade. "Faster," they cried, "faster, faster." She raced, her feet melting the stone wherever they touched. "Faster!" the ghosts cried as one, and she screamed and threw herself forward. A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew. -A Game of Thrones, Daenerys IX
"I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come." -A Game of Thrones, Jon VI
"They never came in force, if that's your meaning, but they were with us all the same, nibbling at our edges. We lost more outriders than I care to think about, and it was worth your life to fall behind or wander off. Every nightfall we'd ring our camps with fire. They don't like fire much, and no mistake. When the snows came, though … snow and sleet and freezing rain, it's bloody hard to find dry wood or get your kindling lit, and the cold … some nights our fires just seemed to shrivel up and die. Nights like that, you always find some dead come the morning." -A Dance with Dragons, Jon XII
"The summers have been shorter since the last dragon died, and the winters longer and crueler." -The Hedge Knight
"To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward you must go back, and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow." -A Clash of Kings, Daenerys III
We should have twenty trebuchets, not two, and they should be mounted on sledges and turntables so we could move them. It was a futile thought. He might as well wish for another thousand men, and maybe a dragon or three. -A Storm of Swords, Jon VIII
(i would like to highlight in this particular chapter, in which jon wishes for a dragon or three, he is defending the wall against an army with unnumbered soldiers that attack in the night, and they fight until dawn comes. does that ring any bells?)
That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper's rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent. -A Storm of Swords, Daenerys III
Rhaenys Targaryen would have definitely worn this dress in order to seduce Aegon
Robert: * Talks any bullshit *
Rhaegar: I hope you don't do anything too aggressive.
Lyanna: I hope you're not hoping too hard.
( insp )
For a Targaryen Princess - Jenny Packham Pre fall 2020
Lyanna: What if I poured coffee in my cereal instead of milk? Rhaegar, concerned and taking the coffee pot from Lyanna: What if you didn't.
( insp )