THE KNIGHT'S VOW.

ASK THE GODS TO SEND A SWORDSMAN [ AND THE GODS SAY LOOK AT YOUR HANDS. ]

[halfgigas]

#HALFGIGAS. PRIVATE PORTRAYAL OF SER DUNCAN THE TALL FROM GEORGE R. R. MARTIN'S A KNIGHT OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS SET WITHIN THE WORLD OF ICE AND FIRE WITH SECONDARY ALTERNATIVE SETTINGS IN TOLKIEN'S MIDDLE EARTH，FAERÛN，THEDAS，ARTHURIANA AND MYTH，KINGDOM COME: DELIVERANCE，ELDEN RING，AND THE WITCHER AVAILABLE. TWENTY ONE PLUS.

#LINKS. GUIDELINES， DOSSIER， PROMPTS， ART CREDIT.

[baratheonpilled]

A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms 1.01

[halfgigas]

thinking about kcd because of my lovely friends and mutuals and in canon hans is relatively low on the nobility ladder so he probably would not be a lannister in awoiaf but unfortunately he's a lannister in my heart. i can just feel it.

[halfgigas]

looking mostly at houses stackspear because their arms are similar to pirkstein's / the lords of leipa's arms but am i looking at house serrett because of their peacock insignia? yes.

[halfgigas]

thinking about kcd because of my lovely friends and mutuals and in canon hans is relatively low on the nobility ladder so he probably would not be a lannister in awoiaf but unfortunately he's a lannister in my heart. i can just feel it.

[lyonelb]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀bashful, the lad, in the talk of bedding and how endeared the lord looks upon the sanguine blossom spilling across freckles cheeks. three sennights must bleed away ere he might take @halfgigas again, so said this noor, and of scant patience is the lord of storm's end. " mm, a fate worse than an eunuch's. " he gripes with a mouth unchaste, smiles a leer puckish and honey-heavy. " i've hungered sorely for that sweet thing of yours. " and so he had, and had tilted and capered and carolled, and afterwards lain abed and imagined the honey-milk cunt he'd savoured as a ravenous hound and where, pray, the bearer thereof may have betaken himself and whether the storm-seed had been sown.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and forsaken is the matter of men and not babes when betwixt arms weathered and scraped from the sea-gust's echinate tongue is gathered the flea of a boy that tempered palms do not falter to hold, yet require the hedge knight's guidance to do so. warm and light as a foal, the little lordling, with breath as faint as a leaf. a babe, in sooth, this little thing certainly is and pink and frail as a skinned hare, but lyonel's babe, that he can scarce conceive. he angles his head to see the boy's eyes of kindred amber, round as the moon, and blinking and frowning the smallest and thinnest of frowns they are against the stroke of a black-and-silver bristle against a down-soft cheek. knows how to marshal men into battle and how to grip a lance beneath mailed grip, and how to bloody a knight so he rises nevermore, lyonel does, but not how to hold nor father a babe.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" sailed well-nigh a full moon for you. " he meets the child's beetled face with a grimace, touches the pad of this thumb to a thin, nigh smooth brow. " and you're eyeing me like i've torn you from the teat myself. " and then speaks to the sire but gazes at the babe and the tufts of fire. " a queer little thing. there hasn't been a baratheon with hair like his so long as the smith's been beating his hammer. " and upturns the eyes aglow. " ought to give you a second one soon as you're able, mm? see which sort you bear me next. " wily he speaks and syrupy the simper that to the knight's lips presses a kiss and from below the hollow his jaw steals the warm scent of milk and musk and sweat, yet chastised such amour promptly is with a lamb's bleat, a second one, wailing from betwixt the sires' close-leaning breasts.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀lyonel scowls, leans backwards. " he keeps no watch for noor. " he says. " it's himself he's looking out for. can't suffer a brother or a sister to share you with. " and then to the greedy beast. " can you, little lord? "

[halfgigas]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀mirrors, the father and the flea of a babe, with faces beetled into twain frowns; the flea of a babe disgruntled, the father disgruntled, too, by the flea of a babe's disgruntlement and grimacing. if lyonel is the storm, then durran is the levin, crowned by fire. there hasn't been a baratheon with hair like his so long as the smith's been beating his hammer, lyonel says, gazing unto the babe crowned by fire with eyes of gossamer gold. 'tis exceptional for a newly born babe's eyes to be so brilliant, so said eira, whose two daughters, inara is seven and mari is four and mischievous, had grey eyes 'til heralded by their ninth moon were their eyes of hazel green, and so too will the eyes of eira's youngest be grey 'til then. dark are yenesia's eyes, and dark, too, are the eyes of yesenia's husband. locust's eyes, then, yesenia had laughed, will surely stay dark. and so too will durran's stay the sweet honey of a lord sire's. "he's all you elsewise," duncan says with a smile as amused as it is fond and a finger featherlight down the bridge of the babe's button nose, "frowning as he is."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀a second, lyonel speaks of, 'though a second there was, crowned too by wisps of fire 'though with eyes hidden 'neath lids pallid and near translucent. (blue, duncan believes they were, of the summer sea and of a mother forgotten to time.) small, she was, smaller than durran, and still. a ghost of a girl, duncan isn't sure if she'd ever existed at all 'til rayyan's words echo, i'm sorry, but your girl is with the gods now. then through kisses does the girl's twin wail — little lungs surely the laughing storm's, too, aye, the smallest of thunder squalls — and squirm again in the swaddle. can't suffer a brother or sister to share you with, but a twin he was, an elder brother by mere minutes. "mm, he likes egg well enough." another touch, light as ever, to the babe's brow. now's not the time to tell lyonel. "he's not used to you, is all." but when will it ever be the time?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀a blessing once more is noor of summer salt, for unbothered and unannounced does the small woman waltz into the room with fabrics of red and white suzani in hand for a ring sling. the boy's been fed, noor regards lord lyonel not as a lord but as no more than a man, you'll walk with him, hm? allow him to become accustomed to you and ser duncan rest. surely your older boy would like to see you as well. duncan snorts, brushing a careful hand o'er durran's crown, then against one of lyonel's own hands. not a targaryen aegon is, no, but a baratheon and lyonel's older boy. "aye, best not cross her, lyonel."

[sigilstag]

 A STUDY IN    ────── THE  YOUNGEST  DAUGHTER,  RUNT  OF  THE  LITTER,  FINDING  OF  SELF  AND  AUTONOMY,  LITTLE  REBELLIONS,  PREY  FERAL  ANTICS,  VANITY,  TEMPESTOUSNESS,  HOPELESS  ROMANTICISM,  NEVERENDING  WHIMSY,  AND  YEARNING.

Visit Original Link

[keyfili]

PETER CLAFFEY as SER DUNCAN THE TALL A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms S1.E6 "The Morrow"

[halfgigas]

CLOSED STARTER, ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF ASHFORD MEADOW. @lyonelb.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀WITHOUT A SQUIRE IS THE HEDGE KNIGHT, although as similar to a hedge knight ser duncan the tall is as daemon blackfyre was to a targaryen prince; a pretender daemon blackfyre was, and a pretender too is ser duncan the tall, and 'though the gods favor a fraud not, favor a mockery the gods do, lord lyonel said, and a right laugh and a sure riot ser duncan must be, feigning hedge knighthood. 'least the black dragon pretended to be a prince. 'least the black dragon were targaryen blood, a would be prince were he not bastard born. men fought and died for the half bastard blood of the dragon and believed it righteous, for no pretender daemon blackfyre was to those who flew the black dragon's banner. knights of house hardyng and house beesbury, sworn by sword and before the seven into service, and the prince of dragonstone blood of the dragon through and through and true had died for a fraud, for a flea bottom bastard born of gutter blood wielding a sword not his by right and a shield with an insignia he need not need, for a knight he is not but a squire overgrown. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀maybe you're not the knight i thought you were, a knife to the heart it is to duncan, but the boy's right: 'twas a monstrous lie they both told, the stableboy squire no squire and the hedge knight no knight. but a boy of ten aegon is, and wont to lie to get what they want are boys of ten, hardly men grown. but one man knows of duncan's monstrous lie and had natheless been one of the knights 'mongst duncan's seven and asked of the deceiver accompaniment. come with me to storm's end, lord lyonel'd said, where they'll hunt and hawk and make merry and where the monstrous lie duncan had told will be banished to the bottom of shipbreaker bay sailing to the sapphire isle. and 'though all he does is bring pain and suffering to those around him, aye, desperate enough is the hedge knight to blight the lord of storm's end with his presence. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀to the baratheon's cavalcade, then, does the hedge knight lead with a limp chestnut and thunder, and there bruised and with dried blood clinging still to a beard canescent sits the lord paramount of the stormlands perched 'pon a phaeton betwixt the parade of carts and men and horses. a beautiful sight to behold is the lord bathed in sunlight, and breathless is the hedge knight. "lyonel, m'lord," he says, swallowing, blue eyes to those of honeyed amber, "if ... if the offer still stands, it would be an honor to accompany you to storm's end, ser."

[dailyakotsk]

Peter Claffey as Ser Duncan the Tall A KNIGHT OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS 1.01 | The Hedge Knight

[halfgigas]

(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

house halfgigas has been blessed by nausi and is therefore safe from any of tumblr's further transgressions