“All you need do is tell Lord Nestor the same tale that you told Lord Robert,” Petyr went on.

Robert is only a sick little boy, she thought, Lord Nestor is a man grown, stern and suspicious. Robert was not strong and had to be protected, even from the truth. “Some lies are love,” Petyr had assured her. She reminded him of that. “When we lied to Lord Robert, that was just to spare him,” she said.

“And this lie may spare us. Else you and I must leave the Eyrie by the same door Lysa used.” Petyr picked up his quill again. “We shall serve him lies and Arbor gold, and he’ll drink them down and ask for more, I promise you.” — Sansa I, AFFC ♦ requested by mallumag


I thought you knew what I wanted. I was wrong. No, you weren’t. Every time I’m faced with a decision I close my eyes and see the same picture. Whenever I consider an action I ask myself, will this action help to make this picture a reality? Pull it out of my mind and into the world. And I only act if the answer is yes. A picture of me, on the iron throne, and you by my side. It’s a pretty picture.