The ‘guest right’ is an ancient and sacred tradition dating back to the First Men. Any guest who eats his host’s food, customarily bread and salt in particular, is protected from harm for the length of his or her stay. A guest who does not highly trust his host will immediately ask for food upon arriving at the keep. Ill fortune is said to fall upon those who betray this pact, and it is an offence punishable by the gods themselves.
If you notice me reblogging
- a repost
- stolen art
- false information
please let me know, you’re not rude or annoying and I actually do give a fuck and I will correct my mistake, thank you
BUT ITS LITTLE FEETSIES
IT HAS FEET
FUZZY LITTLE SLIPPERED BUNNY FEET
it looks so majestic
IT LOOKS LIKE A POKEMON
Doctor Who || Game of Thrones
Clara sees Robbwind as requested/discussed by arthurdarvilll
It’s chaos. Absolute chaos. Clara’s leg is badly hurt from when she tried running away from the men chasing after her. Now, they’ve distracted themselves by destroying everything the Starks brought with them—men, horses, direwolves, everything. But where is Robb? Where is Lady Catelyn? Where is the Doctor? Clara has never felt so lost and alone. She couldn’t stop the tears if she tried. She tries to stand up, but it hurts. She has to get away. She has to get somewhere safe. She’s terrified, but she forces herself to keep moving.
Something is happening. Something she can’t see. Men are cheering and laughing.
"Here comes the King in the North," they chant behind her.
That’s what they called Robb, wasn’t it? She stops.
She turns around and sees it. It’s grotesque and inhumane. Of all the different races she’s seen, she knows humans are the cruelest monsters of all. Robb’s head is gone, replaced by Greywind, his beloved direwolf, his protector.
Heartache and pain swells in her chest. How could they do something so cruel, as if taking his life wasn’t enough? Terror quickly replaces her sadness as the mob grows even more unruly. She’s going to die here at the hands of these savage men.
She hears the Doctor’s voice and almost doesn’t believe it. She limps as fast as she can, dragging her injured leg with her. She throws her arms around him. The Doctor sighs, relieved. He thought he had lost her. He looks up from their embrace and sees the Stark flag glowing with flames.
"We have to get out here, Clara."
What do they say of Robb Stark in the north? They call him the young wolf, my Lord, but it is the blue witch that they speak of most. They say she is a goddess, born from the stars. They say it was her birth that killed your men during the battle of the Twins. They say she laughs at dragons and has time running through her veins. They say she came to bring winter upon us all.
Jenna Coleman filming Doctor Who in Fforest Fawr
It’s freaking dessert shawarma. Holy smokes.