When my husband brought that baby home from the war, I couldn't bear to look at him. Didn't want to see those brown stranger's eyes staring off at me. So I prayed to the Gods, Take him away. Make him die. He got the pox. And I knew I was the worst woman who ever lived. Murderer. I had condemned this poor, innocent child to a horrible death, all because I was jealous of his mother. A woman who he didn't even know. So I prayed to all seven Gods, let the boy live. Let him live and I'll love him. I'll be a mother to him. I'll beg my husband to give him a true name, to call him Stark and be done with it. To make him one of us. And he lived. And I couldn't keep my promise, and everything that's happened since then, all this horror that's come to my family, it's all because I couldn't love a motherless child.
[ game of thrones - dark wings, dark words ]
1 comment:
Love it! Vaja moment tant genial, em va agradar molt... poor Jon Snow.
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