They are not children of golden summer; gilded hair and gilded destinies notwithstanding. Summer is fat and easy. Winter is unprofitable. The middle way, and the middle men: that's a Lannister's place. Because in autumn, all debts are paid: all that living fat off easy pickings, it starts to hit home, starts to bite.
They say a Lannister always pays his debts. True. But a Lannister's debtors always repay too. With interest. Of one sort or another.
Cersei breathes in the air from the north. They say winter is coming, but a Stark always says as much. It has been too long, and she's almost stopped believing in winter, lost the memory of how it will be again. Till now. She breathes again, tasting the scent on the breeze and- yes, there. There is a hint. Of smoke and mist, putrefaction and dark rich rot. Of what comes before winter. Of a season of fruitful richness before white death comes upon them
( ... )
Yesss, middle men, harsh but not bleak, lavish but not spoiled, exactly. I love Carsei as the harbinger of autumn, smelling like rotting foliage and sour but beautiful apples.
in conclusion YOU ARE MY FAVOURITE FOREVER and thank you.
They are not children of golden summer; gilded hair and gilded destinies notwithstanding. Summer is fat and easy. Winter is unprofitable. The middle way, and the middle men: that's a Lannister's place. Because in autumn, all debts are paid: all that living fat off easy pickings, it starts to hit home, starts to bite.
They say a Lannister always pays his debts. True. But a Lannister's debtors always repay too. With interest. Of one sort or another.
Cersei breathes in the air from the north. They say winter is coming, but a Stark always says as much. It has been too long, and she's almost stopped believing in winter, lost the memory of how it will be again. Till now. She breathes again, tasting the scent on the breeze and- yes, there. There is a hint. Of smoke and mist, putrefaction and dark rich rot. Of what comes before winter. Of a season of fruitful richness before white death comes upon them ( ... )
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Yesss, middle men, harsh but not bleak, lavish but not spoiled, exactly. I love Carsei as the harbinger of autumn, smelling like rotting foliage and sour but beautiful apples.
in conclusion YOU ARE MY FAVOURITE FOREVER and thank you.
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A pleasure to serve.
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