the vision slips away into nothingness (Robb/Jeyne)magisterequitumOctober 17 2011, 20:40:32 UTC
(so instead of doing what I'm supposed to do, I did this.)
He has never been to King's Landing. He knows not of what the city looks like, or the sea around it, or the smells of the streets and its people, or what the birds sound like, or what the land looks like outside the gates. Does the ground give way to green hills like the areas around Winterfell? Is the sky grey or blue? He does not know. He knows less of what the Iron Throne looks like.
Stories have been told. There are always stories, and even more that follow when the ones from before no longer offer any entertainment. Descriptions of the twisted metal, forged from fire and conquered swords, are plentiful. And if even they had not provided enough detail, Robb remembers his father's recount; his father had never liked to linger over the past events of the Rebellion, but stolen snatches had been picked up.
Robb knows what he is fighting for. His sisters, his family, the North, to stay alive. But what comes after? He is King in the North, hailed by his men
( ... )
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Pan curled up in her lap. “You can’t stay here forever, you know.”
“But I don’t know where to go! What am I supposed to do now?”
“You’ve still got the alethiometer. You could start learning to read it again.”
“And spend years hunched over a load of old books? I want to do something, Pan. I wish Will had been able to stay,” she added plaintively.
“Lord Asriel was an explorer. Even without the windows there’s a lot to explore.”
“That would be fun. We could get a balloon like Mr Scoresby had.”
[[just a little bit of nothing, hope you like it]]
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Thank you so much! :)
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He has never been to King's Landing. He knows not of what the city looks like, or the sea around it, or the smells of the streets and its people, or what the birds sound like, or what the land looks like outside the gates. Does the ground give way to green hills like the areas around Winterfell? Is the sky grey or blue? He does not know. He knows less of what the Iron Throne looks like.
Stories have been told. There are always stories, and even more that follow when the ones from before no longer offer any entertainment. Descriptions of the twisted metal, forged from fire and conquered swords, are plentiful. And if even they had not provided enough detail, Robb remembers his father's recount; his father had never liked to linger over the past events of the Rebellion, but stolen snatches had been picked up.
Robb knows what he is fighting for. His sisters, his family, the North, to stay alive. But what comes after? He is King in the North, hailed by his men ( ... )
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ROBB. MY CREYS. I love this.
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