An old man sat down beside her. "Well, aren't you a pretty little peach?" His breath smelled near as foul as the dead men in the cages, and his little pig eyes were crawling up and down her. "Does my sweet peach have a name?"
For half a heartbeat she forgot who she was supposed to be. She wasn't any peach, but she couldn't be Arya Stark either, not here with some smelly drunk she did not know. "I'm . . ."
"She's my sister." Gendry put a heavy hand on the old man's shoulder, and squeezed. "Leave her be."
The man turned, spoiling for a quarrel, but when he saw Gendry's size he thought better of it. "You sister, is she? What kind of brother are you? I'd never bring no sister of mine to the Peach, that I wouldn't." He got up from the bench and moved off muttering, in search of a new friend.
"Why did you say that?" Arya hopped to her feet, "You're not my brother."
"That's right," he said angrily. "I'm too bloody lowborn to be kin to m'lady high."
Arya was taken aback by the fury in his voice. "That's not the way I mean it."
"Yes it is." He sat down on the bench, cradling a cup of wine between his hands. "Go away. I want to drink this wine in peace. Then maybe I'll go find that black-haired girl and ring her bell for her."
"But . . ."
"I said, go away. M'lady."
Arya whirled and left him there. A stupid bullheaded bastard boy, that's all he is. He could ring all the bells he wanted, it was nothing to her.
Mots clés arya-stark gendry-waters
Tomorrow's trials concerned her more than yesterday's triumphs.
George R.R. MartinLady," she whimpered softly, wondering if she would meet her wolf again when she was dead.
George R.R. MartinSome instinct made her lift her hand and cup his cheek with her fingers. The room was too dark for her to see him, but she could feel the stickiness of the blood, and a wetness that was not blood. "Little bird," he said once more, his voice raw and harsh as steel on stone. Then he rose from the bed. Sansa heard cloth ripping, followed by the softer sound of retreating footsteps.
When she crawled out of bed, long moments later, she was alone. She found his cloak on the floor, twisted up tight, the white wool stained by blood and fire. The sky outside was darker by then, with only a few pale green ghosts dancing against the stars. A chill wind was blowing, banging the shutters. Sansa was cold. She shook out the torn cloak and huddled beneath it on the floor, shivering.
I would choose freedom over comfort every time.
George R.R. MartinMots clés asoiaf a-dance-with-dragons val
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Říká se, že noční krásy skomírají za
svítání a k dětem vína se v ranním světle často nikdo nehlásí.
Shaga: How would you like to die, little man?
Tyrion: In my bed, at the age of eighty with a belly full of wine and a woman's mouth around my cock.
Mots clés funny game-of-thrones geogre-r-r-martin
The singers make much of kings who valiantly die in battle, but your life is worth more than a sword. To me at least, who gave it to you.
George R.R. MartinMots clés game-of-thrones catelyn-stark asoif
EELLLLLIIIAAAAA!!
George R.R. MartinNel mio cuore c'è un debole per storpi, bastardi e cose spezzate.
Tyrion Lannister
Mots clés il-trono-di-spade
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