Najdraži odlomci iz ASOIAF-a

[Garfieldica 007]

ovo je tema na kojoj možete postati najdraže odlomke iz knjiga, najsmješnije, one koji su vas rastužili ili šokirali.... pričati kako su na vas djelovali, objasniti zašto su vam najdraži, raspravljati o njima....

pa navali narode.

Za početak...jedan od mojih najdražih ulomaka, iz Gozbe Vrana, zadnje Jaimievo poglavlje....

"Jaime read it in the window seat, bathed in the light of that cold white morning. Qyburn’s words were terse and to the point, Cersei’s fevered and fervent. ‘Come at once,’ she said. ‘Help me. Save me. I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at once.’ Vyman was hovering by the door, waiting, and Jaime sensed that Peck was watching too. ‘Does my lord wish to answer?’ the maester asked, after a long silence. A snowflake landed on the letter. As it melted, the ink began to blur. Jaime rolled the parchment up again, as tight as one hand would allow, and handed it to Peck. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Put this in the fire.’ "

uh, kad sam ovo pročitala, doslovno sam dobila osjećaj da ustanem i



Jaime, većina vas zna da mi je najdraži lik, toliko se mijenja, ovo je bio onaj završni čin u kojem napušta Cersei, okreće se od nje iako je emotivno još vezan za nju. Razum mu govori što je ispravno, postaje mu jasno što je sve zabrljao u životu zbog nje i ovo je prvi put da donosi odluku u kojoj joj govori - zbogom.

Skoro me rasplakalo.....jer ovo je pravi Jaime, onaj kakav bi bio da nije dio Kingsguarda.

[Clint Eastwood]

Ovo je lagano.

Nisam razmišljao ni trenutka, ovo je najbolji ulomak i knjige:



“Ser? My lady?” said Podrick. “Is a broken man an outlaw?”

“More or less,” Brienne answered.

Septon Meribald disagreed. “More less than more. There are many sorts of outlaws, just as there are many sorts of birds. A sandpiper and a sea eagle both have wings, but they are not the same. The singers love to sing of good men forced to go outside the law to fight some wicked lord, but most outlaws are more like this ravening Hound than they are the lightning lord. They are evil men, driven by greed, soured by malice, despising the gods and caring only for themselves. Broken men are more deserving of our pity, though they may be just as dangerous. Almost all are common-born, simple folk who had never been more than a mile from the house where they were born until the day some lord came round to take them off to war. Poorly shod and poorly clad, they march away beneath his banners, ofttimes with no better arms than a sickle or a sharpened hoe, or a maul they made themselves by lashing a stone to a stick with strips of hide. Brothers march with brothers, sons with fathers, friends with friends. They’ve heard the songs and stories, so they go off with eager hearts, dreaming of the wonders they will see, of the wealth and glory they will win. War seems a fine adventure, the greatest most of them will ever know.

“Then they get a taste of battle.

“For some, that one taste is enough to break them. Others go on for years, until they lose count of all the battles they have fought in, but even a man who has survived a hundred fights can break in his hundred-and-first. Brothers watch their brothers die, fathers lose their sons, friends see their friends trying to hold their entrails in after they’ve been gutted by an axe.

“They see the lord who led them there cut down, and some other lord shouts that they are his now. They take a wound, and when that’s still half-healed they take another. There is never enough to eat, their shoes fall to pieces from the marching, their clothes are torn and rotting, and half of them are shitting in their breeches from drinking bad water.

“If they want new boots or a warmer cloak or maybe a rusted iron halfhelm, they need to take them from a corpse, and before long they are stealing from the living too, from the smallfolk whose lands they’re fighting in, men very like the men they used to be. They slaughter their sheep and steal their chickens, and from there it’s just a short step to carrying off their daughters too. And one day they look around and realize all their friends and kin are gone, that they are fighting beside strangers beneath a banner that they hardly recognize. They don’t know where they are or how to get back home and the lord they’re fighting for does not know their names, yet here he comes, shouting for them to form up, to make a line with their spears and scythes and sharpened hoes, to stand their ground. And the knights come down on them, faceless men clad all in steel, and the iron thunder of their charge seems to fill the world…

“And the man breaks.

“He turns and runs, or crawls off afterward over the corpses of the slain, or steals away in the black of night, and he finds someplace to hide. All thought of home is gone by then, and kings and lords and gods mean less to him than a haunch of spoiled meat that will let him live another day, or a skin of bad wine that might drown his fear for a few hours. The broken man lives from day to day, from meal to meal, more beast than man. Lady Brienne is not wrong. In times like these, the traveler must beware of broken men, and fear them…but he should pity them as well.”

When Meribald was finished a profound silence fell upon their little band. Brienne could hear the wind rustling through a clump of pussywillows, and farther off the faint cry of a loon. She could hear Dog panting softly as he loped along beside the septon and his donkey, tongue lolling from his mouth. The quiet stretched and stretched, until finally she said, “How old were you when they marched you off to war?”

“Why, no older than your boy,” Meribald replied. “Too young for such, in truth, but my brothers were all going, and I would not be left behind. Willam said I could be his squire, though Will was no knight, only a potboy armed with a kitchen knife he’d stolen from the inn. He died upon the Stepstones, and never struck a blow. It was fever did for him, and for my brother Robin. Owen died from a mace that split his head apart, and his friend Jon Pox was hanged for rape.”

“The War of the Ninepenny Kings?” asked Hyle Hunt.

“So they called it, though I never saw a king, nor earned a penny. It was a war, though. That it was.”

[Ajvz]

Garfieldica 007 kaže:

Skoro me rasplakalo.....jer ovo je pravi Jaime, onaj kakav bi bio da nije dio Kingsguarda.

Dobar odlomak za sve nas Jaimeljupce, ali nije mi jasan ovaj dio gdje kažeš da bi bio takav da nema Kingsguarda. Mislim da Kingsguard njega i drži na pravom putu i daje mu taj osjećaj časti i pripadnosti koji je u obitelji izgubio. Biti vitez mu je oduvijek puno značilo i ponosio se svojim vještinama, bez toga ne bi bio tko je.

[Black Revenger]

Winter is comming.





aj sad za ozbiljno,
nemam bas neki omiljeni odlomak, ali mi je ovo jako dobro:

Waddling to the door, he listened a moment, then eased it open slowly. A lamp burned in a stone niche, casting wan yellow light over the empty hallway. Only the flame was moving. Tyrion slid out, holding the crossbow down against his leg.

He found his father where he knew he’d find him, seated in the dimness of the privy tower, bedrobe hiked up around his hips. At the sound of steps, Lord Tywin raised his eyes.

Tyrion gave him a mocking half bow. “My lord.”

“Tyrion.” If he was afraid, Tywin Lannister gave no hint of it. “Who released you from your cell?”

“I’d love to tell you, but I swore a holy oath.”

“The eunuch,” his father decided. “I’ll have his head for this. Is that my crossbow? Put it down.”

“Will you punish me if I refuse, Father?”

“This escape is folly. You are not to be killed, if that is what you fear. It’s still my intent to send you to the Wall, but I could not do it without Lord Tyrell’s consent. Put down the crossbow and we will go back to my chambers and talk of it.”

“We can talk here just as well. Perhaps I don’t choose to go to the Wall, Father. It’s bloody cold up there, and I believe I’ve had enough coldness from you. So just tell me something, and I’ll be on my way. One simple question, you owe me that much.”

“I owe you nothing.”

“You’ve given me less than that, all my life, but you’ll give me this. What did you do with Tysha?”

“Tysha?”

He does not even remember her name. “The girl I married.”

“Oh, yes. Your first whore.”

Tyrion took aim at his father’s chest. “The next time you say that word, I’ll kill you.”

“You do not have the courage.”

“Shall we find out? It’s a short word, and it seems to come so easily to your lips.” Tyrion gestured impatiently with the bow. “Tysha. What did you do with her, after my little lesson?”

“I don’t recall.”

“Try harder. Did you have her killed?”

His father pursed his lips. “There was no reason for that, she’d learned her place . . . and had been well paid for her day’s work, I seem to recall. I suppose the steward sent her on her way. I never thought to inquire.”

“On her way where?”

“Wherever whores go.”

Tyrion’s finger clenched. The crossbow whanged just as Lord Tywin started to rise. The bolt slammed into him above the groin and he sat back down with a grunt. The quarrel had sunk deep, right to the fletching. Blood seeped out around the shaft, dripping down into his pubic hair and over his bare thighs. “You shot me,” he said incredulously, his eyes glassy with shock.

“You always were quick to grasp a situation, my lord,” Tyrion said. “That must be why you’re the Hand of the King.”

“You . . . you are no . . . no son of mine.”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong, Father. Why, I believe I’m you writ small. Do me a kindness now, and die quickly. I have a ship to catch.”

For once, his father did what Tyrion asked him. The proof was the sudden stench, as his bowels loosened in the moment of death. Well, he was in the right place for it, Tyrion thought. But the stink that filled the privy gave ample evidence that the oft-repeated jape about his father was just another lie.

Lord Tywin Lannister did not, in the end, shit gold.



dok sam ovo prvi put procito, umiro sam od smijeha.
Lord Tywin Lannister did not, in the end, shit gold.

[Klodovik2]

Jamie zaslužuje smrt ito bolnu i sporu
nadam se da će mi zombi Cat ispunit tu želju

ništa ne mere izbrisat njegove zločine

[Klodovik2]

Nečija ga ruka pograbi za rame, pet prstiju čvrstih poput željeza zakopaše se
duboko u njegovo meso. "Traže te, Vonju", reče Kiseli Alyn, čiji je dah zaudarao
po pokvarenim zubima. Žuti Dick i Damon Pleši Za Me bijahu s njime. "Ramsay
kaže da mu trebaš dovesti nevjestu u postelju."

Prožele su ga srsi od straha. Odigrao sam svoju ulogu, pomislio je. Zašto ja? Ali
znao je da mu ne bi bilo pametno odbiti.
Knez Ramsay je već ostavio dvoranu. Njegova nevjesta, sama i naizgled
zaboravljena, sjedila je zgrbljena i tiha pod barjakom kuće Stark, stišćući srebrni
pehar objema rukama. Sudeći prema načinu na koji ga je pogledala kad joj je
pristupio, iskapila je taj pehar više no jedanput. Možda se nadala da će je, ako
dovoljno popije, ova muka mimoići. Theon je znao da neće biti tako. "Gospo
Arya", rekao je. "Doñite. Vrijeme je da ispunite svoju dužnost."
Šestorica Kopilanovih momaka pratila su ih dok je Theon vodio djevojku stražnjim
dijelom dvorane i preko ledenog dvorišta do Velike tvrñe. Tri niza kamenih stuba
dijelilo ih je od ložnice kneza Ramsayja, jedne od soba koje je požar tek neznatno
dotakao. Dok su se penjali, Damon Pleši Za Me je zviždukao, dok se Gulikoža
hvalisao kako mu je knez Ramsay obećao komad krvave plahte kao znak posebne
naklonosti.
Ložnica je bila dobro opremljena za konzumaciju braka. Sav je namještaj bio nov,
donijet iz Humkograda u teretnoj povorci. Krevet s baldahinom imao je pernati
madrac i zastore od krvavocrvenog baršuna. Kameni pod prekrivale su vučje kože.
Vatra je gorjela u ognjištu, a svijeća na stoliću uz uzglavlje. Na komodi je stajao
vrč vina, dva pehara i pola koluta žilicama prošaranog bijelog sira.
Bio je ondje i stolac, izrezbaren od crne hrastovine s crvenim kožnatim sjedalom.
Knez Ramsay sjedio je na njemu kad su ušli. Pljuvačka mu se caklila s usnice.
"Evo moje ljupke djeve. Bravo, momci. Možete nas ostaviti. Ne ti, Vonju. Ti
ostani."
Vonj, vonj, rimuje se sa znatiželjni konj. Osjetio je kako mu se amputirani prsti
grče; dva na lijevoj ruci i jedan na desnoj. O boku mu je počivao bodež, spavajući
u kožnim koricama, ali težak, o, tako težak. Na desnici mi nedostaje samo mali
prst, podsjetio se Theon. Još mogu držati nož. "Gospodaru. Kako vam mogu
služiti?"
"Predao si mi djevojčuru. Ima li itko bolji da odmota dar? Da vidimo kćerkicu
Neda Starka."
Ona nije u rodu s knezom Eddardom, umalo izlane Theon. Ramsay zna, sigurno
zna, kakva je ovo nova okrutna igra? Djevojka je stajala uz stup kreveta, drhteći
poput srne. "Gospo Aryjo, ako biste okrenuli leña, moram vam razdriješiti haljinu."
"Ne." Knez Ramsay si natoči pehar vina. "To s vezicama predugo traje. Odreži je s
nje."

Theon isuče bodež. Moram se samo okrenuti i probosti ga. Dotad je već prepoznao
igru.
Još jedna zamka, rekao je u sebi, sjetivši se Kyre s njezinim ključevima. Želi da ga
pokušam ubiti. A kad ne uspijem, oderat će mi kožu s ruke kojom sam držao
oštricu. Pograbio je rukovet nevjestine suknje. "Ne mičite se, moja gospo." Haljina
je bila široka ispod pojasa, pa je ondje zario oštricu, polako je povlačeći prema
gore kako je ne bi porezao. Čelik je zašaputao kroz vunu i svilu tihim, mekim
zvukom. Djevojka se tresla. Theon ju je morao zgrabiti za ruku da je smiri. Jeyne,
Jeyne, rimuje se s plijen. Pojačao je stisak koliko god mu je osakaćena ljevica to
dopuštala. "Ne mičite se."
Naposljetku haljina spuzne s nje, blijedo klupko oko njezinih nogu. "I rublje",
zapovjedi Ramsay. Vonj posluša.
Kad je završio, nevjesta je stajala naga, a njezino svadbeno ruho svelo se na hrpu
bijelih i sivih dronjaka oko njezinih nogu. Imala je male, zašiljene grudi, uske i
djevojačke bokove, a noge tanke kao u ptice. Dijete. Theon je zaboravio koliko je
mlada. Sansina vršnjakinja. Arya bi bila još mlaña. Unatoč vatri u ognjištu, u
ložnici je bilo prohladno. Jeyneina blijeda koža bila je hrapava od žmaraca. U
jednom trenutku podigla je ruke kao da će pokriti grudi, ali Theon izgovori nijemi
ne, a ona to opazi i smjesta se zaustavi.
"Kako ti se čini, Vonju?" upita knez Ramsay.
"Ona..." Koji je odgovor htio? Sto je ono djevojka rekla prije božanske šume? Svi
su govorili da sam dražesna. Više nije dražesna. Na leñima joj se nazire paučina
neznatnih tankih brazgotina gdje ju je netko išibao. "... lijepa je, tako... tako lijepa."
Ramsay se vlažno osmjehne. "Diže li ti se na nju, Vonju? Napinju li ti se od nje
vezice? Bi li je prvi želio poševiti?" Nasmijao se. "Princ Oštrozimlja trebao bi
imati to pravo, kao i svi knezovi iz davnina. Prva noć. Ali ti nisi knez, zar ne?
Samo Vonj. Nisi čak ni čovjek, da budemo iskreni." Otpio je još jedan gutljaj vina,
a onda zavitlao pehar preko sobe tako da se odbio od zida. Crveni potoci potekoše
niz kamen. "Gospo Aryjo. Ležite na krevet. Da, na jastuke, to je dobra ženica. Sad
raširite noge. Da vam vidimo pičku."
Djevojka šutke posluša. Theon načini korak natrag prema vratima. Knez Ramsay
sjedne do svoje nevjeste, prijeñe rukom po unutrašnjoj strani njezina bedra, a onda
zarije dva prsta u nju. Djevojka ispusti bolan uzdah. "Suha si kao stara kost."
Ramsay izvuče ruku i ošamari je. "Rečeno mi je da znaš zadovoljiti čovjeka. Je li
to bila laž?"

"Nnije, gospodaru. Oobučena sam."
Ramsay ustane, a svjetlost vatre obasja mu lice. "Vonju, dolazi ovamo. Pripremi je
za mene."
Na trenutak nije shvatio. "Ja... mislite... gosp'aru, nemam... ja..."
"Ustima", reče Ramsay. "I požuri. Ne bude li vlažna dok se svučem, odsjeći ću ti
taj jezik i pribiti ga o zid."
Negdje u božanskoj šumi zakriješti gavran. Bodež mu je još bio u ruci.
Spremio ga je u korice.
Vonj, moje ime je Vonj, rimuje se s kukavni konj.
Vonj prione na posao.


ovaj dio obožavan jer najbolje pokaziva što je ramsey napravio Theonu, kako ga je slomio
ujedno prikaz Ramseyeve genijalnosti u mučenju i ponižavanju ljudi

[Leecher]

Kad sam vidio ovaj topic ovo mi je prvo palo na pamet

“Once, so tormented she could not sleep, Dany slid a hand down between her legs, and gasped when she felt how wet she was. Scarce daring to breathe, she moved her fingers back and forth between her lower lips, slowly so as not to wake Irri beside her, until she found one sweet spot and lingered there, touching herself lightly, timidly at first and then faster. Still, the relief she wanted seemed to recede before her, until her dragons stirred, and one screamed out across the cabin, and Irri woke and saw what she was doing.

Dany knew her face was flushed, but in the darkness Irri surely could not tell. Wordless, the handmaid put a hand on her breast, then bent to take a nipple in her mouth. Her other hand drifted down across the soft curve of belly, through the mound of fine silvery-gold hair, and went to work between Dany's thighs. It was no more than a few moments until her legs twisted and her breasts heaved and her whole body shuddered. She screamed then. Or perhaps that was Drogon. Irri never said a thing, only curled back up and went back to sleep the instant the thing was done.”

[VK Girl]

Pih Cersie i Taena su waaaay better


Meni je super ono poglavlje gdje Arya baca sve stvari osim "Igle" - tu me uvijek malo stegne u grlu

[Garfieldica 007]

Ajvz kaže:

Dobar odlomak za sve nas Jaimeljupce, ali nije mi jasan ovaj dio gdje kažeš da bi bio takav da nema Kingsguarda. Mislim da Kingsguard njega i drži na pravom putu i daje mu taj osjećaj časti i pripadnosti koji je u obitelji izgubio. Biti vitez mu je oduvijek puno značilo i ponosio se svojim vještinama, bez toga ne bi bio tko je.

Znam, malo sam se krivo izrazila.

Kingsguard ga drži na pravom putu ali samo od kad se vratio u Kings Landing. Mislim da je prije toga KG shvaćao na drugačiji način. S obzirom da je prekršio najvažnije zakletve Kguarda - ubio je kralja i na kraju balade ima troje djece, mislim da i nije puno razmišljao što njemu zapravo KG znači. Uzeo je taj plašt samo i samo zbog Cersei, sada kada dolazi do raskida među njima, mislim da on počinje preispitivati svoji ulogu u KG, i tek onda zapravo počinje živjeti prema stvarnim načelima kraljeve garde. Istina, KG je san snova svakog viteza, Jaime je od malena bio odgajan kao ratnik ali mislim da bez Cersei on nikada ne bi postao bijeli vitez.

Često razmišljam kakav bi Jaime bio da ustvari nije uzeo taj plašt i dolazim do zaključka (možda i krivog) da bi bio puno gora osoba.

The things I do for love u njegovom slučaju nije samo floskula, on stvarno sve radi po nekom instinktu i iz emocija, ne mogu njega zamislit u braku s Lysom Tully, mislim da bi ga takav život samo napravio ogorčenim i punim prezira prema svima kao što je slučaj sa Cersei.

Ovaj odlomak mi je toliko više upečatljiv jer predstavlja kraj jedne veze bolesne i poremećene svakako, ali opet s njegove strane iskrene i duboke. Drago mi je što je Martin uveo Cersein POV u Gozbu Vrana, jer se u biti taj prekid vidi s obe strane, vidljive su sve one nijanse ali i razlike u načinu na koji njih oboje kroz to prolaze. Njemu postaje jasno da je on apsolutno sve u životu žrtvovao radi nje, praktički titulu i imanje, čak se vlastite djece odrekao dok je njoj bio samo sredstvo za postizanje određenih ciljeva. Zato mi je i onaj susret s Lancelom u Darryju drag - pomalo je komičan (zamisli žgolju Lancela i Jaimea zajedno) ali mislim da ga zapravo tu istina pogađa drito u lice. "Lancel you´re a bloody fool" stoji jednako "Jaime you´re a bloody fool" Jasno mu je da je Lancelu napravila posve isto što i njemu, da je Lancel napravio iste greške kao i on i vidi koliko je to sve bilo za ništa.

Ova posljednja rečenica "Put this in the fire" mi nekako predstavlja točku na i twincesta, i mislim da je njegova promjena što se tiče uloge koju emocije vezane za Cersei imaju u njegovim odlukama na tom mjestu završena. (Već u Plesu razmišlja o načinu da makne tommena od nje, i nju općenito iz Igre)

Martin me zna raspizdit puno puta sa glupostima i nekim nebulozama, ali za lik Jaimea stvarno mu skidam kapu. Mislim da je jedan od najsloženijih ako ne i najsloženiji lik u priči. Kad sam čitala Vrane, pogotovo Jaimieva poglavlja, stvarno su mi standing ovation scene došle par puta u glavu.

@Clint - i taj odlomak zaslužuje standing ovation. Je da nema puno veze s radnjom ali je maestralan.

[sonja:)]

Garfieldica 007 kaže:

Za početak...jedan od mojih najdražih ulomaka, iz Gozbe Vrana, zadnje Jaimievo poglavlje....

"Jaime read it in the window seat, bathed in the light of that cold white morning. Qyburn’s words were terse and to the point, Cersei’s fevered and fervent. ‘Come at once,’ she said. ‘Help me. Save me. I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at once.’ Vyman was hovering by the door, waiting, and Jaime sensed that Peck was watching too. ‘Does my lord wish to answer?’ the maester asked, after a long silence. A snowflake landed on the letter. As it melted, the ink began to blur. Jaime rolled the parchment up again, as tight as one hand would allow, and handed it to Peck. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Put this in the fire.’ ".

meni je isto bilo strasno drago ovo procitat, nekako je raskrstio do kraja tu s njom i to je bilo to


meni je ono kad Jorah zazvali Khaleesi na brodu vrh, jebiga, jadna sam šiparica

[Ajvz]

VK Girl kaže:

Meni je super ono poglavlje gdje Arya baca sve stvari osim "Igle" - tu me uvijek malo stegne u grlu

To je i moj najdraži odlomak.

“It's just a stupid sword," she said, aloud this time...
... but it wasn't.
Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister", she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes.”

The Many-Faced God traži da njegove sluge budu nitko i ništa, ali Arya Stark ne može biti nitko, makar se pretvara da je. Needle je nada da Arya neće zaboraviti tko je i da će staviti stare bogove i svoju obitelj ispred novog boga kad kucne čas.

[Garfieldica 007]

Uh, taj Aryin mi je bio dobar....i onaj sa Sansom i dvorcem od snijega u Valeu.

ali ovu scenu očekujem s toliko entuzijazma....moraš stvarno bit budaletina od scenarista da ovo zabrljaš.

Jaime stood. “I am tired of having highborn women kicking pails of shit at me, Father. No one ever asked me if I wanted to be Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, but it seems I am. I have a duty -”
“You do.” Lord Tywin rose as well. “A duty to House Lannister. You are the heir to Casterly Rock. That is where you should be. Tommen should accompany you, as your ward and squire. The Rock is where he’ll learn to be a Lannister, and I want him away from his mother. I mean to find a new husband for Cersei. Oberyn Martell perhaps, once I convince Lord Tyrell that the match does not threaten Highgarden. And it is past time you were wed. The Tyrells are now insisting that Margaery be wed to Tommen, but if I were to offer you instead -”
“NO!” Jaime had heard all that he could stand. No, more than he could stand. He was sick of it, sick of lords and lies, sick of his father, his sister, sick of the whole bloody business. “No. No. No. No. No. How many times must I say no before you’ll hear it? Oberyn Martell? The man’s infamous, and not just for poisoning his sword. He has more bastards than Robert, and beds with boys as well. And if you think for one misbegotten moment that I would wed Joffrey’s widow...”
“Lord Tyrell swears the girl’s still maiden.”
“She can die a maiden as far as I’m concerned. I don’t want her, and I don’t want your Rock!”
“You are my son -”
“I am a knight of the Kingsguard. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard! And that’s all I mean to be!”
Firelight gleamed golden in the stiff whiskers that framed Lord Tywin’s face. A vein pulsed in his neck, but he did not speak. And did not speak. And did not speak.
The strained silence went on until it was more than Jaime could endure. “Father...” he began.
“You are not my son.” Lord Tywin turned his face away. “You say you are the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and only that. Very well, ser. Go do your duty.”

mislim da će Charles i Nikolaj ovo maestralno odradit. Ako im ostave scenu nepromjenjenom - doduše, predviđam da će izbacit ovo o braku cersei i Oberyna, a možda i neće.....možda Loras dobrovoljno odustane od braka i ode u KG.

Scena je u svakom slučaju premoćna, već vidim Charlesa kako onako krvnički hladno probada Nikolaja pogledom - and did not speak, and did not speak, and did not speak.......

[Michael Collins]

Sada mi se ne da tražiti, Danny i sluškinja na brodu

[Leecher]

Michael Collins kaže:

Sada mi se ne da tražiti, Danny i sluškinja na brodu

nemoj reć ... podsjeti me o čem je riječ.

[Clint Eastwood]

Garfieldica 007 kaže:

mislim da će Charles i Nikolaj ovo maestralno odradit. Ako im ostave scenu nepromjenjenom - doduše, predviđam da će izbacit ovo o braku cersei i Oberyna, a možda i neće.....možda Loras dobrovoljno odustane od braka i ode u KG.

Promjenit će scenu, kako ne - Brienne će nekako tu upasti.

[Garfieldica 007]

Clint Eastwood kaže:

Promjenit će scenu, kako ne - Brienne će nekako tu upasti.

djevojčura se ne boji Tywina

[Garfieldica 007]

VK Girl kaže:

Pih Cersie i Taena su waaaay better

evo ga.......moram priznat da mi je ova akcija kraljice na damu super...ne samo zbog akcije nego i zbog toga koliko je na kraju jasno kako je Cersei postala Robert no.2

The sky outside the window was already beginning to lighten. Cersei sat on the bed beside Lady Merryweather, listening to her soft breathing, watching her breasts rise and fall. Does she dream of Myr? she wondered. Or is it her lover with the scar, the dangerous dark-haired man who would not be refused? She was quite certain Taena was not dreaming of Lord Orton.
Cersei cupped the other woman’s breast. Softly at first, hardly touching, feeling the warmth of it beneath her palm, the skin as smooth as satin. She gave it a gentle squeeze, then ran her thumbnail lightly across the big dark nipple, back and forth and back and forth until she felt it stiffen. When she glanced up, Taena’s eyes were open. “Does that feel good?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Lady Merryweather.
“And this?” Cersei pinched the nipple now, pulling on it hard, twisting it between her fingers.
The Myrish woman gave a gasp of pain. “You’re hurting me.”
“It’s just the wine. I had a flagon with my supper, and another with the widow Stokeworth. I had to drink to keep her calm.” She twisted Taena’s other nipple too, pulling until the other woman gasped. “I am the queen. I mean to claim my rights.”
“Do what you will.” Taena’s hair was as black as Robert’s, even down between her legs, and when Cersei touched her there she found her hair all sopping wet, where Robert’s had been coarse and dry. “Please,” the Myrish woman said, “go on, my queen. Do as you will with me. I’m yours.”
But it was no good. She could not feel it, whatever Robert felt on the nights he took her. There was no pleasure in it, not for her. For Taena, yes. Her nipples were two black diamonds, her sex slick and steamy. Robert would have loved you, for an hour. The queen slid a finger into that
Myrish swamp, then another, moving them in and out, but once he spent himself inside you, he would have been hard-pressed to recall your name.
She wanted to see if it would be as easy with a woman as it had always been with Robert. Ten thousand of your children perished in my palm, Your Grace, she thought, slipping a third finger into Myr. Whilst you snored, I would lick your sons off my face and fingers one by one, all those pale sticky princes. You claimed your rights, my lord, but in the darkness I would eat your heirs. Taena gave a shudder. She gasped some words in a foreign tongue, then shuddered again and arched her back and screamed. She sounds as if she is being gored, the queen thought. For a moment she let herself imagine that her fingers were a bore’s tusks, ripping the Myrish woman apart from groin to throat.
It was still no good.
It had never been any good with anyone but Jaime.
When she tried to take her hand away, Taena caught it and kissed her fingers. “Sweet queen, how shall I pleasure you?” She slid her hand down Cersei’s side and touched her sex. “Tell me what you would have of me, my love.”
“Leave me.” Cersei rolled away and pulled up the bedclothes to cover herself, shivering. Dawn was breaking. It would be morning soon, and all of this would be forgotten.
It had never happened.

[paloma26]

"Is there gold hidden in the village?", “Is there silver? Gems?”, “Is there food? Where is Lord Beric?”, “Where did he go? How many men were with him? How many knights? How many bowmen? How many, how many, how many, how many, how many, how many? is there gold in the village?”

[Black Revenger]

bas mi se sviđa ova tema,
lijepo je povremeno procitat kvalitetni odlomak

[zamiel]

“I looked for you on the Trident,” Ned said to them.
“We were not there,” Ser Gerold answered.
“Woe to the Usurper if we had been,” said Ser Oswell.
“When King's Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were.”
“Far away,” Ser Gerold said, “or Aerys would yet sit the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in seven hells.”
“I came down on Storm's End to lift the siege,” Ned told them, and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them.”
“Our knees do not bend easily,” said Ser Arthur Dayne.
“Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you might have sailed with him.”
“Ser Willem is a good man and true,” said Ser Oswell.
“But not of the Kingsguard,” Ser Gerold pointed out. “The Kingsguard does not flee.”
“Then or now,” said Ser Arthur. He donned his helm.
“We swore a vow,” explained old Ser Gerold.
Ned’s wraiths moved up beside him, with shadow swords in hand. They were seven against three.
“And now it begins,” said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light.
“No,” Ned said with sadness in his voice. “Now it ends.”