#knight of the seven kingdoms

[pompodoko]

Older art of Princess Elia Martell and Queen Myriah Martell

[lupiiny]

The Prince who thought he was a dragon

[thetorturedlover]

Duncan The Tall

[thelittlecrannogmen]

thinking about how when dunk turns to the crowd and shouts “are there no true knights among you?” he’s right. there are no true knights left in westeros. it’s just him.

[wodania]

Prince Aegon and Lady Betha (220 AC)

[cryptgrrrl1313]

Stannis the Mannis

Stannis Baratheon, rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms, the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Protector of the Realm, and self-appointed commander of the Nightfort, is a man cloaked in titles and burdened by destiny. To his red priestess, he is the Lord’s Chosen, the Son of Fire, the Warrior of Light. But beneath the prophecy and pomp, Stannis is a living paradox: justice without mercy, duty without love. His rigid devotion to law and obligation hollows him out, leaving behind a tragic husk consumed by his own relentless righteousness.

Stannis suffers from textbook middle child syndrome but not the kind that breeds rebellion. Instead, it bred a quiet, festering resentment. After watching his parents die in a shipwreck off Storm’s End, he was left in the ruins with Renly, too young to understand anything except that their eldest brother, Robert, was gone spirited away to the Eyrie, where he flourished under Jon Arryn, laughing with Ned Stark and Brandon like a golden boy out of legend. Meanwhile, Stannis learned silence, isolation, and responsibility. The message was clear: Robert was chosen; Stannis was convenient. That abandonment calcified into bitterness toward Robert, and toward the brothers Robert chose when Stannis had no choice at all. Cressen, the old maester of Storm’s End, saw the damage. He clung to Stannis not because Stannis was lovable, but because he needed love more than anyone. Even as a boy, Stannis was severe and joyless an old soul trapped in a child’s body, carrying burdens too heavy for his narrow frame.

When Robert rebelled against the Targaryens, it was Stannis who held Storm’s End through starvation and siege, keeping the Baratheon name intact through sheer grim will. His reward? Dragonstone a volcanic rock reeking of sulfur and isolation. Robert handed the ancestral seat of House Baratheon not to the brother who earned it, but to the youngest, Renly, untested and politically naive. It wasn’t strategy. It was a slap in the face.

To truly understand Stannis Baratheon, you have to look beyond his titles and sense of duty to see the man himself shaped by bitterness, driven by responsibility. Yet the same qualities that make him strong also lead to his downfall. He seeks justice but lacks compassion, is proud yet plagued by self-hatred, and clings so tightly to his idea of “right” that it suffocates everything around him. These contradictions define his journey, his ultimate failure, and the tragic impact he leaves on Westeros.

And yet, for all his rigidity and moral absolutism, Stannis is a walking contradiction especially when the Iron Throne comes into view. A man so obsessed with law, order, and legitimacy becomes shockingly willing to strike deals in shadow and blood. Another version of Stannis surfaces here not the ironclad judge of Westeros, but a desperate claimant willing to wager his soul for power.

Stannis is a practical man not pious, not fanatical. He never placed much faith in the Seven, especially after the untimely death of his parents and a lifetime of feeling like Westeros had it out for him. But everything shifts when he witnesses the very real results Melisandre can conjure. It isn’t her faith that seduces him it’s her power. Though, let’s be honest, the red priestess herself is hard to ignore. From there, his already shaky moral compass begins to spin wildly.

First comes the burning of the Sept troubling, but arguably tactical. Then the leeches: Edric Storm’s royal blood leeched and burned as Stannis names his rivals Balon Greyjoy, Robb Stark, and Joffrey Baratheon. It’s a compromise, yet it sets a grim precedent. And we all know what comes next. Mel will ask for a greater sacrifice. Maybe it’s Shireen. Maybe Val, our icy eyed wildling princess, lights the pyre with eerie satisfaction. Personally, I subscribe to the theory that Melisandre will attempt some sort of shadow-binding resurrection ritual a callback to Mirri Maz Duur’s fiery chaos to yank Jon Snow back from his second life inside Ghost. Something something, “mount go into the spirit of the rider.”

If Melisandre is the whisper of fire and temptation in Stannis’ ear, then Davos Seaworth is the gravel-voiced conscience clinging to his other shoulder his Jiminy Cricket. Davos is loyalty forged in hardship, honesty sharpened by poverty, and the one man brave (or foolish) enough to tell Stannis when he’s wrong. Their relationship is messy built on mutual respect, frustration, and the push-pull of idealism versus pragmatism. Davos tries, time and again, to tether Stannis to something resembling a soul, warning against the dangers of prophecy and blood magic even as his king begins slipping further away.

Then there’s Shireen his daughter, his blood, and the crack in his granite shell. With her, we glimpse a softer Stannis: the man who reads history books to his child, who tries to explain the world’s complexities, who almost almost smiles. Shireen is his last link to innocence, the anchor to whatever humanity he has left. The moral horror of her death, when it comes, will mark his final transformation from man to monster. It’s the moment where duty and prophecy obliterate love entirely.

And finally, Jon Snow. The bastard of Winterfell and the would-be king meet at the cold crossroads of duty both stoic, both burdened, both bound to thankless causes. Yet where Jon bends toward compassion, Stannis breaks under pride. Their uneasy alliance is laced with mutual respect, but never full trust. Too alike, too different two men standing in the snow, trying to lead ghosts.

Stannis thinks he’s the only one with the stomach to do what’s right but justice without mercy? That’s not justice. That’s tyranny wrapped in legitimacy. Unlike Ned Stark, who tempered honor with empathy, Stannis wields the law like a blade, driving it straight through the heart of anyone who stands in his way even if that someone is his own daughter. Ned would bend to save those he loved; Stannis sets them on fire to fulfill a prophecy.

And speaking of prophecy Azor Ahai, the flaming sword, the whole Lightbringer mess it stops being a metaphor the second he lets Melisandre sacrifice Shireen. The story shifts from saving the realm to a man unraveling for a crown no one truly wants him to wear. Stannis becomes a fiery inversion of the Night’s King: cold death versus burning righteousness, both enchanted by supernatural forces, both losing whatever made them human in the first place. One weds a corpse queen; the other burns his bloodline alive. The difference is that only one of them thinks he’s saving the world.

In the end, Stannis Baratheon isn’t a hero but he’s not exactly a villain either. He’s what happens when duty calcifies into dogma, when law is treated as sacred scripture, and when mercy is seen as weakness. He embodies justice stripped of compassion and love sacrificed at the altar of legitimacy. In a world where the lines between good and evil blur, Stannis doesn’t straddle them he burns a straight path through, convinced of his own moral clarity. And that’s what makes him so terrifying. In the broader themes of A Song of Ice and Fire, where power corrupts and prophecy distorts, Stannis stands as a stark reminder that righteousness without empathy doesn’t save kingdoms it razes them. In the shadow of dragons and the firelight of prophecy, he remains: not a savior, not a monster, but a warning. One that tells us the real danger isn’t in choosing the wrong side, but in believing so completely that you’re right you forget what you’re fighting for in the first place.

[sunderingrivers]

The Queens Who Never Were 〚9 / 17〛

Little is written about Jena Dondarrion, save for her likely happy marriage to Prince Baelor 'Breakspear' Targaryen, and the lives of their two sons, Prince Valarr and Prince Matarys. Contemporary Dondarrions include Ser Manfred, who rode to defeat the Vulture King and attended Ashford Tourney; though it is unknown how the two were related.

It is interesting to note that Prince Valarr was described as having a streak of silver hair, despite neither of his parents being described as bearing that feature. It is possible that as a recessive gene, this may have come about both through his grandfather, King Daeron, and Jena's line, which may include the Penroses descended from Elaena Targaryen.

In the same year Baelor Targaryen died at Ashford Tourney, Valarr and Matarys died of the Spring Sickness. Much like the rest of her life, there is nothing written about whether Jena too passed, or outlived her entire family. Had Baelor survived, she would have been Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, or Queen Mother had either of her sons survived.

[nowhereelsetopost]

Google is referring to Aerion as “le Flamboyant” and I mean… it’s not wrong

[mermaidslabyrinth]

"How many eyes does Lord Bloodraven have? A thousand eyes, and one."

And it was said that Daemon Dragonfyre's were the ones that were feared the most.

They are a poison that only the two of them are immune to.

This lovely artwork was created by @lonelymagpies. It is of my OC Daemon Dragonfyre and Brynden "Bloodraven" Rivers.

Is it an overused phrase? Yes. Is it a banger? Absolutely.

[cruciomee]

Matching Hats!

[bastardofharrenhal]

going from reading a storm of swords to the knight of the seven kingdoms is wild. 900 pages filled with political intrigue and consequences of war longing and grief vs weeewooo ashforth tourney :D my squire's eyes are a little funny lookin but im sure thats fine :)

[lupiiny]

Aerion Brightflame

[vesper-the-solitaire]

Myriah Martell

Myriah Martell

Crown Princess of Dorne and later Queen of the Seven Kingdoms as wife of Daeron II Targaryen.

As the eldest children of the Prince of Dorne, Myriah was supposed to succeed him as Princess Ruling, but her life took a different course when her father and the King on the Iron Throne Baelor I arranged a peaceful marriage beetwen her and Daeron Targaryen. In 184, Daeron became king and Myriah his queen, giving her claim to Dorne to her younger brother Maron.

Maron would later marry Daeron's younger sister Daenerys and unite Dorne with the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.

Daeron and Myriah had four sons: Baelor, Aerys I, Rhaegel, and Maekar I.

[unknown-terrain]

Brienne and Egg

Fun little tidbit but I just noticed the little cute blonde boy who costarred with Gwendoline Christie in Robin and the Hoods is Dexter Sol Ansell who is playing Egg in the new Dunk and Egg show. Awwww.....

[wodania]

guess who is re-experiencing the wonder and whimsy that is the tales of dunk and egg