knightwithoutbanner:

lowborns-a-deactivated20161212:

       ivorytxsteel

        Gendry watched the girl reluctantly as she lingered
        near the heavy ebony doors of the shop, no doubt
        admiring the scenes that had been carved there, her
        copper-coloured head shinning cleanly in the noon
        light. Must be she’d wandered up the street from the
        Market Square— but a forge was no place for a little
        lady and today he had no Master to run her off. Though
        it was like that Mott would have offered one so pretty
        as this a seedy smile and cup of wine, she’d get no
        no such treatment from his apprentice.

                                                         “Are y’lost, miss?”

:: 〖 ❣ 〗――— ::

                       This was the first time she was out of the Red Keep,
                  the company of her Septa and a few of her lord father’s
                  men keeping her and Jeyne Poole safe as they explored
                  King’s Landing. Everything was so vibrant, unmuted and
                  r a w. It was a sight to see, so unlike the cold cloak of the
                  North. She was entranced by the heroic tales, remembering
                  her brother lying in a deep sleep amongst his furs. He had
                  wanted to be a knight. He would have been a great one.
                  Bran could have been h e r knight. Just like Ser Jaime was
                  for his queen sister. Tearing blue eyes away from it, Sansa
                  raised her eyebrows at the question. A quick glance around.

                        “I don’t think so. My Septa’s right there.” And so she was.
                  Sansa pointed at the carvings. “Can this be replicated?”