Her love for Daario is poison. A slower poison than the locusts, but in the end as deadly.
A Dance with Dragons, The Kingbreaker.
Category: Art
Bellegere Otherys
Smuggler, trader, sometime pirate, captain of the Widow Wind, born of a union between a Braavosi merchant’s daughter and an envoy from the Summer Isles. After Naerys fell pregnant and almost died in 161, King Baelor sent Aegon to Braavos on a diplomatic mission. Accounts of the time suggest it was an excuse to make certain Aegon left Naerys alone as she recovered from a failed childbirth. There he met Bellegere Otherys. His affair with the Black Pearl continued for ten years, though it was said that Bellegere had a husband in every port and that Aegon was but one of many.
When one man-at-arms grew careless in her presence she had snatched his dagger from its sheath and stabbed him in the neck. Another inch to the left and he might have died.
Lonely and lovely and lethal, Jon Snow reflected, and I might have had her. Her, and Winterfell, and my lord father’s name.
A Dance with Dragons, Jon III.
Done for Two Feet Studios with love and a lot of frustration over Adobe Fresco (I’m convinced my laptop can’t handle the amount of layers I tend to use).
I’m not a good plant mom. I’ve killed succulents and herbs and I might be currently killing a small palm tree I have. I just can’t tell what they need from me. But this croton’s been with us for about a year now, and going strong. She’s my baby. I’ve let her wilt a few too many times, and lost some leaves on the way, but she always bounces back perkier than ever. It must be growing season now, because she’s sprouting in all three branches. I’m proud of her.
I’m also not a great painter. I’m much more comfortable with sketching and making things a little bit cartoony. I never studied hardcore art theory, so it feels like every time I try to be more realistic, whether in shape or color, shit gets wonky. But I wanted to switch things up this time. It took so much longer than I’m used to, and I’ll admit I had to trace the leaf shapes (I’ll get there one day, but for now this was a color study — one step at a time), but I’m also proud of this one.
Happy to leave that comfort zone every once in a while.
“Oberyn wanted vengeance for Elia. Now the three of you want vengeance for him. I have four daughters, I remind you. Your sisters. My Elia is fourteen, almost a woman. Obella is twelve, on the brink of maidenhood. They worship you, as Dorea and Loreza worship them. If you should die, must El and Obella seek vengeance for you, then Dorea and Loree for them? Is that how it goes, round and round forever? I ask again, where does it end?”
Ellaria Sand laid her hand on the Mountain’s head. “I saw your father die. Here is his killer. Can I take a skull to bed with me, to give me comfort in the night? Will it make me laugh, write me songs, care for me when I am old and sick?”
A Dance with Dragons, The Watcher.
But it was not the plains Dany saw then. It was King’s Landing and the great Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had built. It was Dragonstone where she had been born. In her mind’s eye they burned with a thousand lights, a fire blazing in every window. In her mind’s eye, all the doors were red.
A Game of Thrones, Dany III.
“This story is about the Baudelaires. And they are the sort of people who know that there’s always something. Something to invent, something to read, something to bite, and something to do, to make a sanctuary, no matter how small. And for this reason, I am happy to say, the Baudelaires were very fortunate indeed.”
The Bad Beginning
