π•Ώβ„Žπ‘’ π“šπ‘–π‘›π‘”π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘Ÿ. (@aDutifulKnight) header
π•Ώβ„Žπ‘’ π“šπ‘–π‘›π‘”π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘Ÿ. (@aDutifulKnight) profile picture

β‚»β€”βπ‘ƒπ‘’π‘Ÿβ„Žπ‘Žπ‘π‘  𝑀𝑦 π‘ƒπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘›π‘π‘’ π‘…π‘’π‘π‘Žπ‘™π‘™π‘  π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› 𝐼 πΎπ‘›π‘œπ‘π‘˜π‘’π‘‘ π»π‘–π‘š 𝑂𝑓𝑓 𝐻𝑖𝑠 π»π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘ π‘’.❞ (α΄€ α΄˜α΄€Κ€α΄α΄…Κ α΄€α΄„α΄„α΄α΄œΙ΄α΄›.)

Joined May 2023
Photo by π•Ώβ„Žπ‘’ π“šπ‘–π‘›π‘”π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘Ÿ. (@aDutifulKnight)Photo by π•Ώβ„Žπ‘’ π“šπ‘–π‘›π‘”π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘Ÿ. (@aDutifulKnight)
"The heroes will always be remembered. The best. The best and the worst. & a few who were a bit of both. Like him." β€” π‘±π’‚π’Šπ’Žπ’† π‘³π’‚π’π’π’Šπ’”π’•π’†π’“ 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 π‘ͺπ’“π’Šπ’”π’•π’π’ π‘ͺ𝒐𝒍𝒆. 》♑ &βŸ²γ€Š
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π•Ώβ„Žπ‘’ π“šπ‘–π‘›π‘”π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘Ÿ. retweeted
leave one wolf alive & the sheep are never safe.
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π•Ώβ„Žπ‘’ π“šπ‘–π‘›π‘”π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘Ÿ. retweeted
those who escape hell, however, rarely talk about it and nothing much bothers them after that.
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π•Ώβ„Žπ‘’ π“šπ‘–π‘›π‘”π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘Ÿ. retweeted
the snake in the grass; the thorns on the rose.
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keeping to himself in thought but clearly listening to what the Queen said, Criston allowed another soft breath to leave him. "I believe it is never easy, but I don't think every Queen is the same or has the same experiences, but I have only known one Queen personally ---
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--- to make such observation, and to avoid being a bias opinion I won't elaborate too much. But I think you have done extraordinary with the hand you were dealt." Criston lifted his lightly bearded chin a bit, he's not know Aemma other that her warm reputation given by many ---
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--- and how much the King loved her, and a few other noted mentions he's been graced with. "There is the Seven, but..." the male's voice trailed off, as if he meant to leave it there as they approached the doors of the small council chamber.
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A slow exhale left the Dornishman as he walked with the Dowager Queen, and warm brown eyes shifted to her. "I... don't think I've ever known you to not be stressed or have something on your mind. I suppose I expected you'd get some rest eventually, your grace."
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"It does, I mean It would." Criston very lightly cleared his throat before folding his hands behind his back, resting them at the small of his back. "Did you get any rest, your grace?"
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He lightly pressed the tip of his tongue behind his lips and offered a small smile back. "I am. Would you like to walk with me?"
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"Your Grace." Tips his head to her.
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a knowing expression fell from the dornish male's face, processing a range of what to say or if he should say it. There wasn't anything he would not do to serve the Queen, there wasn't anything he had not done for in honesty, yet He felt like he was keeping ---
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--- something from her, but for whos safety was it really for hers or his own. "My Queen, What is on your mind? Is there something I can do?" his tone laced with concern, her distraught disposition far beyond what he normally saw her in lately.
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so many things he could say, but he withholds them out of respect to the Queen. His eyes drop to her flexing hand seeing the all to familiar gesture and remains quiet until he's spoken to.
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Happy Mother's Day to the greatest mothers who live in the westeros, and may those who have passed be remembered always for their greatness through their legacies.
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