#olenna tyrell

[alicentgwayne]

Tell us the truth, no harm will come to you. My father always told the truth. Yes, he had that reputation. And they named him traitor.

GAME OF THRONES — 3.02 "Dark Wings, Dark Words"

[stormborns]

GAME OF THRONES 3.06, The Climb

[arte072]

a young Olenna Tyrell née Redwyne: The Queen of Thorns 🍇🌹✨

[omgellendean]

Some ASoIaF (main books) child-killers and how they feel about their crimes:

Tywin Lannister: 1 (plus however many Reyne-Tarbeck kids there were). Would quote Sun Tzu at you if he could.

Roose Bolton: 1 that we know about. Just another Tuesday for him.

Petyr Baelish: 1 WIP. You won't prove anything.

Gregor Clegane: 2 that we know about. Just another Tuesday for him.

Theon Greyjoy: 2, but not the ones everyone thinks; 1 threat. Pretended not to care but actually feels bad, currently a bit distracted by the horrors.

Olenna Tyrell: 1. He had bad vibes.

Sandor Clegane: 1 that we know about. Had to be repeatedly called out and retraumatised to notice people tend to get upset by murders. Still dgaf about Mycah personally.

Jaime Lannister: 2 failed attempts, 2 threats. Technically shouldn't even be on the list unless we include a half of Westeros, but everyone thinks he belongs here. Jaime agrees.

Cersei Lannister: ~20. Fuck them kids.

[missswritesalot]

Winter’s thorn

Summary: Lady Y/N Tyrell, the rose of Highgarden, had no intentions of marriage when she visited Winterfell. But with her honor on the line, she might have to reconsider.

Part two

“What about Lady Y/N Tyrell, the younger sister of Lady Margery Tyrell,” the maester suggested. “She is young and Lady Olenna is seeking an alliance. Her raven comes with certain peculiar ideas that need careful execution.”

Catelyn was delighted. After hours of pouring over letters from all the heads of the houses, she found Robb his ideal match. She ordered a feast to be held, and invited Lady Y/N Tyrell under the pretense of trade.

“Almost here, Y/N,” said your cousin Taena. You shivered and wrapped your cloak around you tighter. “You are aware this visit is not purely of trade?”

“Now, Taena, that’s enough.” The septa chided.

“Even Queen Daenerys wishes to see you married, cousin. Perhaps to-“

“No more, cousin. I tire of this, although you mean it in jest.” You said, exhausted by these rumors.

“It would mean strengthening our loyalty to the Targaryens. He is Jon Snow’s brother,” Taena said.

“Cousin,” you corrected. She took it as though you were chiding her, and unexpectedly fell silent.

You took two steps out of the carriage, unassisted. You tried holding your head high, like the wind wasn’t cutting into your skin.

You were astonished to find the people of House Stark assembled in the courtyard, waiting for your arrival.

Catelyn was the first to greet you.

“My son, the Lord of Winterfell, Robb Stark.” She said, motioning to him. You’d heard of him, they called him the young wolf. Honorable. Gentle and strong.

Robb had the most gorgeous blue eyes you’d ever seen, framed by thick auburn lashes. His hair was a signature Tully red, just like Sansa’s. You’d once thought she was the most comely maiden at court, and her brother had all of her good looks in his ruggedly handsome way.

You courtesied in greeting. He took your gloved hand in his bare one and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Your heart raced. He was so beautiful. You didn’t look up, and affixed your eyes on your boots instead.

“Lady Tyrell, we thank you for making the long journey up north. I hope it was not too difficult.” His voice could’ve melted the snow around you.

You nodded curtly: he should not see the blush on your face.

In your haste, you tripped on a stone hidden in the snow. A strong, leather clad arm wrapped around your waist to pull you up. You felt him stand you upright and the fingers of his other hand dug into your arm to steady you.

You gasped at the close contact, and turned to face him. He might be the lord of Winter but his arm felt like it might burn you. His fingers, where they touched the smallest silver of skin at your shoulder, were equally scalding. You didn’t want to step away from him into the cold.

“Forgive me, Lady Tyrell,” Robb said, his blue eyes still peering into yours. There was an instinct to lean into him, to step into his arms. But you resisted.

You turned your face away, and looked as angry as you could.

“Unhand me at once,” you said slowly. The Septa behind you gasped at your lack of courtesy.

“Lady Tyrell-“ Catelyn began, but you cut her off.

“Pardon me, Lady Stark, but the carriage journey was long and tiring. My companions and I would be obliged for a warm room.” You asked.

The walls of Winterfell were bare, the tapestries grey with little or no embroidery. The heat you had longed for suffocated you. Your mind still harbored thoughts of Robb and only Robb. No, you corrected, Lord Stark. You touched your shoulder where his fingers had rested, and giggles burst out of you. Thankfully, your cousins weren’t around to witness your shame.

You thought of how this was where Robb grew up, his childhood home that was now his.

You tugged on a new dress, one that stood out against the drab castle walls, with its golden roses and green leaves on a background of ivory and pale green.

You heard a loud sound outside. You opened the chamber door at once, and Robb Stark tumbled in.

“My lord, what does this mean?” You asked, horrified he was in your chambers.

“I only meant to escort you to the great hall, my Lady. But there has been an invasion into Winterfell and as my guest I must see to your safety myself.”

You only just noticed his armor. He bolted the doors and you backed away from him.

“My cousins?” You asked.

“They are safe, in the library. Do not fret, my Lady. You will be reunited as soon as the threat is stopped.”

You trusted Robb, you realized. It was a fool’s idea to put your trust in a strange man who you didn’t know, just because you found him attractive. But you trusted him.

“My Lord, it is most improper for a Lady to be in the presence of a man without companions.” You protested, just to save face.

“Proprietary will not restore your life when it has been taken by a criminal’s blade.” Robb said. You closed your eyes.

“I apologize you have not yet supped, my Lady.” Rob said softly. His concern endeared him to you even more.

“I’m not hungry,” you said. You went to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Do not mind me, Lady Tyrell. I cannot express the depth of my displeasure that Winterfell is inadequate on your first night here. Please rest until my men finish the task.” Robb said courteously.

You laid on the bed, the dress too uncomfortable to sleep in but fitful sleep did come.

It was in the early hours of the morn when the Septa found you curled on the furs in the chamber room. Robb was resting against your bed, his head lying on furs with his legs sprawled out across the floor.

“Taena,” you said, going into her embrace.

“Oh cousin,” she said, crying. More of your companions rushed in and fussed over you. You broke your fast with them, your voices and laughter could be heard across the hallways.

Your septa walked in just as soon as the servants cleared the room.

“Y/N, do not tell untruths when I ask you this,” she said. “And I place no blame on you. Was Lord Stark in your chambers during the attack?”

“Why, yes,” you confirmed, head nodding. “He was the most noble.”

“And you did not think of your honor?” The septa asked gently.

“Even the most noble ladies laid next to their knights with nay but a sword between them.” You protested.

“Robb Stark is neither your sworn protector nor a knight.” She said. “Lady Catelyn has written an apology to your grandmother, and suggested a proposal.”

“A proposal for what, septa?”

“A marriage between two great houses. You’ll be betrothed to Lord Stark.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

A Tyrell in the Lion's Den (part 1)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Word count: 3.4k

Pairing: Tywin Lannister x Tyrell!reader

Summary: A Tyrell woman, bored and frustrated in King's Landing, unexpectedly falls for Tywin Lannister as their teasing evolves into a secret and deepening relationship

________________________________________________________

Being in King’s Landing was nothing like being at Highgarden. At home, the air was scented with roses, and the fields stretched as far as the eye could see. There was always something to do, someone to see, or some mischievous game to engage in with my siblings. But here, in the capital, I felt as though the walls of the Red Keep were closing in on me, stifling my spirit and curbing my freedom.

Margaery, of course, seemed to flourish in this gilded cage. My younger sister was ever the perfect lady, effortlessly charming and graceful, as if she were born to wear the crown she was soon to inherit. But I could see what others could not—how carefully she measured every smile, every glance, every word. She was playing a dangerous game, and while I respected her for it, I had no taste for it myself. I craved the sun on my face, the earth beneath my feet, the wild freedom of Highgarden. But in King’s Landing, there was none of that.

The days passed slowly, each one bleeding into the next with nothing to distinguish it. I tried to fill the hours with walks in the gardens, but even they paled in comparison to the ones at home. I would spend afternoons in the library, but the tomes held little interest when my mind was preoccupied with thoughts of home. I dined with the court, attended the various events Margaery was obligated to attend, but all the while I felt like an outsider. The courtiers were insipid, the knights pompous, and the noble ladies shallow. I was bored out of my mind.

Then, one evening, I found my distraction.

We were dining with the Lannisters, Margaery’s soon-to-be family. The atmosphere was tense, as it often was when the Tyrells and Lannisters gathered. My grandmother, Olenna, was sharp-tongued and unrelenting, and I loved her for it. She took every opportunity to poke at the lions, her remarks as barbed as any sword. Margaery, as usual, played the innocent, delicate flower, but I knew better. She was a Tyrell through and through.

And then there was Tywin Lannister.

The Lord of Casterly Rock was an imposing figure, his presence commanding the room. His icy gaze swept over everyone as though they were mere pawns on his chessboard. He was the most formidable man I had ever met, and I disliked him immediately.

I also found myself strangely fascinated by him.

As the dinner progressed, I found myself watching him, studying the way he interacted with his family and ours. He was as cold and calculating as I had expected, but there was something else there, something beneath the surface. He was a man who had built his house into the most powerful in the realm, who had orchestrated the rise of his children to positions of unimaginable power. And yet, I sensed a weariness in him, a tiredness that came from shouldering the weight of the world for far too long.

I decided to entertain myself by irritating him. It wasn’t difficult—he was so rigid, so controlled, that any small breach in protocol seemed to annoy him. I began with little things: interrupting him while he was speaking, contradicting his opinions with the sweetest smile, deliberately misunderstanding his intentions. To my delight, I noticed his jaw tightening, the only outward sign of his irritation.

After dinner, as the men gathered for their usual discussions and the women for their gossip, I found myself seeking him out. He was standing by one of the windows, looking out over the city, no doubt lost in thought about whatever grand scheme he was concocting. I approached quietly, standing beside him and mimicking his stance.

"A fine view," I remarked, though in truth, I found the city ugly compared to the sprawling beauty of Highgarden.

"Indeed," Tywin replied, his voice clipped. "One can see much from here."

"Including the dangers?" I asked, turning my head to look at him. He glanced at me, his expression unreadable.

"Especially the dangers," he said.

"How exhausting," I sighed dramatically. "To always be on the lookout for treachery and deceit. How do you manage it, Lord Tywin?"

"It is a necessary burden," he said, turning his gaze back to the city. "One that I bear gladly for the sake of my family and the realm."

"A noble sentiment," I said with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. "Though I wonder if it leaves any room for joy."

He looked at me then, truly looked at me, and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or maybe curiosity. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"Joy is a luxury," he said. "One that few can afford."

"And what about you, my lord? Can you afford it?"

Tywin’s lips pressed into a thin line, and I knew I had hit a nerve. He didn’t answer, and I didn’t press him. Instead, I gave him a sweet smile and curtsied slightly.

"Well, if ever you find yourself in need of a distraction, you know where to find me," I said, before turning and walking away, leaving him to his thoughts.

Over the next few weeks, I made it my mission to annoy Tywin Lannister at every opportunity. Whether it was at dinners, during court sessions, or in passing conversations, I would always find some way to needle him. A careless remark here, a sly comment there, all designed to get under his skin. To his credit, he rarely showed his irritation in public, but I could see it in the way his eyes would narrow slightly, or how he would clench his jaw.

It became the highlight of my days, this little game of ours. It made King’s Landing bearable. And, truth be told, I started to look forward to our encounters. He was the only one in the capital who challenged me, who didn’t treat me like a delicate flower to be admired from afar. He was formidable, and I enjoyed matching wits with him, even if he didn’t realize that was what we were doing.

My family, of course, noticed.

"My dear, you seem to spend quite a lot of time in Lord Tywin’s company," Margaery said one afternoon as we walked in the gardens.

"Oh, I just find him... fascinating," I replied, feigning innocence. "Don’t you?"

Margaery laughed, a light, melodic sound that masked her sharpness. "I find him intimidating. But then, I’m not as brave as you."

"Brave? Hardly," I said, waving a hand dismissively. "I just like to poke at him. It’s like trying to ruffle the feathers of a stone statue."

"You do more than poke, dear," my grandmother Olenna chimed in as she joined us. "I think the old lion has taken quite a shine to you."

I rolled my eyes. "Nonsense. He barely tolerates me."

"Men like Tywin Lannister don’t tolerate anything they don’t want," Olenna said with a knowing look. "And I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching."

I felt a blush creep up my neck. "He’s an old man, and I’m merely a distraction."

"Sometimes, distractions can become more," Margaery said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Perhaps he sees something in you that you don’t see in yourself."

I didn’t dignify that with a response, though I couldn’t help but wonder if they were right. Was there something more to this game I had been playing with Tywin? Did he see me as more than just an annoyance?

The next time I encountered Tywin was at another of the many dinners we attended. This time, I decided to push him a little further.

"Lord Tywin," I said sweetly as I sat beside him, "do you ever tire of these endless dinners and formalities? I imagine they must be dreadfully boring for a man of your... stature."

He looked at me, his gaze cool. "Boredom is a luxury I cannot afford."

"Ah, yes. Always the dutiful servant of the realm," I said with a mock sigh. "It must be so exhausting, always being the one in control, the one who must bear the weight of the world."

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you pity me, Lady Tyrell?"

"Pity? No, my lord. I admire you," I said, and for once, I wasn’t being entirely sarcastic. "You’re a man who knows what he wants and takes it. There’s something... refreshing about that."

He studied me for a moment, as if trying to decide whether I was mocking him or not. Then, to my surprise, he smiled. It was a small smile, barely more than a quirk of his lips, but it was there.

"And what is it that you want, Lady Tyrell?" he asked, his tone curious.

I blinked, taken aback by the question. What did I want? Freedom, certainly. The open fields of Highgarden, the sweet scent of roses, the feel of the sun on my skin. But beyond that?

"I want to be seen," I said, surprising myself with the admission. "Not as just another pretty face or a pawn in someone else’s game, but as a person in my own right."

Tywin’s gaze softened, just a fraction. "You are seen," he said quietly. "By those who matter."

Our eyes locked, and for a moment, the world around us faded. There was no King’s Landing, no political machinations, no family expectations. Just us, two people who had found something unexpected in each other.

I quickly looked away, my heart pounding. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to tease him, annoy him, make my time in the capital more bearable. I wasn’t supposed to… feel anything for him.

But the more I tried to deny it, the more I realized that I was drawn to him. Tywin Lannister, the cold, calculating, fearsome lion, had somehow managed to slip past my defenses. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

As the days turned into weeks, our encounters became more frequent. Tywin would seek me out at dinners, in the gardens, even during court sessions. Our conversations grew deeper, more personal, and I found myself looking forward to them more than I cared to admit.

My family, of course, noticed the change.

“You seem to be in a better mood these days,” Margaery remarked one evening as we prepared for bed. “I take it Lord Tywin is proving to be more than just a distraction?”

I huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s an old man, and I’m just… amusing myself.”

Olenna cackled from her chair by the fire. “Amusing yourself, is it? My dear, you’re playing with fire. And I think you’re starting to enjoy the burn.”

I glared at her. “I’m not falling for him, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Of course not,” Margaery said, though the smirk on her face said otherwise. “But just remember, sister, that the most dangerous games are the ones where we don’t realize we’re the ones being played.”

I didn’t respond, though her words lingered in my mind long after she left the room. Was I being played? Or was I the one playing Tywin? And did it even matter anymore?

The turning point came during a feast celebrating Margaery’s upcoming wedding. The hall was filled with nobles, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats and rich wine. The music was lively, the laughter louder, but all I could think about was the man sitting across the room.

Tywin had been watching me all night, his gaze a constant weight on me. I tried to ignore it, to focus on the festivities, but I found myself glancing at him more than I should. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I excused myself from the table and slipped out into the gardens, hoping the cool night air would clear my head.

I hadn’t been outside for more than a few minutes when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to find Tywin standing there, his expression unreadable.

“Lord Tywin,” I said, my voice more breathless than I intended. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same,” he replied, stepping closer. “But I think I already know.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding. “And what is it that you think, my lord?”

He took another step, closing the distance between us. “I think you’re tired of the games, as am I.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the tension between us crackling in the air. And then, before I could think better of it, I reached up and kissed him.

It was a bold move, one that surprised both of us. But after a brief hesitation, he responded, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me close. The kiss was fierce, passionate, and I felt as though I was being consumed by it, by him.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily. I looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of regret, but all I saw was desire.

“This… this doesn’t change anything,” I said, though even I wasn’t sure what I meant by that.

“No, it doesn’t,” Tywin agreed, his voice rough. “But it also changes everything.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He was right. This did change everything. But what that meant, I wasn’t sure.

In the days that followed, I found myself thinking more and more about Tywin. Our stolen kiss haunted me, and I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. Would he pursue me? Would I pursue him? Or would we both pretend it never happened and continue our little game?

My family, of course, noticed my distraction.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Olenna remarked as we broke our fast one morning. “Thinking about a certain lion, are we?”

I rolled my eyes. “Grandmother, please. I’m just… trying to figure out what to do with myself. King’s Landing is so dreadfully boring.”

“Boring? Or is it that you’re too afraid to admit you’ve fallen for him?” Margaery asked, her tone light but her eyes serious.

“I haven’t fallen for him,” I said, though the words felt hollow. “I just… enjoy his company, that’s all.”

“Enjoy his company?” Olenna cackled. “My dear, I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. There’s more than just ‘company’ there.”

I sighed, knowing they wouldn’t let it go. “Fine. Maybe there is something more. But it’s complicated. He’s Tywin Lannister, for gods’ sake. And I’m… well, I’m me.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Margaery asked, tilting her head. “You’re a Tyrell. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and you’ve managed to capture the attention of the most powerful man in the realm. That’s no small feat.”

“But what if it’s just a game to him?” I asked, voicing my deepest fear. “What if I’m just another pawn in his grand scheme?”

Olenna reached across the table and patted my hand. “You may be a pawn, my dear, but you’re a clever one. And I have a feeling that Tywin Lannister doesn’t see you as a mere piece to be moved. He sees you as an equal, a partner. And that, my dear, is something to be reckoned with.”

That night, I found myself wandering the halls of the Red Keep, unable to sleep. My thoughts were a whirlwind, and I needed to clear my head. I didn’t have a destination in mind, but my feet seemed to know where they were going.

I ended up outside Tywin’s chambers, my heart pounding in my chest. I hesitated, unsure of what I was doing, but then the door opened, and there he was, as if he had been expecting me.

“Lady Tyrell,” he said, his voice low and even. “What brings you here at this hour?”

“I… I’m not sure,” I admitted, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I just… needed to see you.”

He stepped aside, allowing me to enter his chambers. I looked around, noting the sparse, almost austere furnishings. It was a room that reflected the man who inhabited it—practical, efficient, and devoid of any unnecessary comforts.

Tywin closed the door behind me and turned to face me, his expression unreadable. “Why are you really here?”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “Because I’m tired of playing games,” I said, echoing his words from the garden. “I’m tired of pretending that there’s nothing between us when there clearly is.”

He regarded me for a long moment, his gaze intense. “And what do you want from me, Lady Tyrell?”

“I want you to be honest with me,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “I want to know where we stand. Is this… whatever this is… is it real? Or am I just another piece on your board?”

Tywin’s expression softened, and for the first time, I saw a glimpse of the man behind the mask. “You are not a piece on my board,” he said quietly. “You are… more than that. Far more.”

I felt a surge of emotion at his words, but I didn’t want to let myself believe it so easily. “Then what am I to you?”

“You are a challenge,” he said, taking a step closer. “A distraction. A temptation. But more than that, you are someone who sees me as I am, not as the world expects me to be. And that is something I did not expect to find.”

“And what about you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “What do you see when you look at me?”

“I see a woman who is brave, intelligent, and not afraid to speak her mind,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine. “I see someone who challenges me in ways I haven’t been challenged in years. And I see someone who I am… drawn to, despite my better judgment.”

My breath caught in my throat at his admission. “And what do we do now?”

Tywin reached out, his hand gently cupping my cheek. “Now, we stop pretending,” he said before lowering his lips to mine.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with all the unspoken words between us. When we finally pulled apart, I felt as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

“Whatever happens,” Tywin said, his forehead resting against mine, “know that this is real. You are not just a distraction, not just a game. You are something I never expected to find in King’s Landing.”

“And you,” I said, my voice trembling with emotion, “are something I never expected to want.”

We stood there for a long moment, just holding each other, both of us realizing that we had crossed a line we could never uncross. But as I looked into his eyes, I knew that I didn’t want to go back.

This was real. This was something more than either of us had anticipated. And whatever happened next, we would face it together.

As the days passed, our relationship deepened. We were careful to keep it hidden from the court—Tywin, after all, had a reputation to maintain, and I had no desire to become the subject of court gossip. But in the quiet moments we stole away together, I found myself growing closer to him than I ever thought possible.

My family, of course, was not fooled.

“You seem… different,” Margaery remarked one morning as we broke our fast. “Happier, perhaps?”

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “I suppose I’ve just… found something to occupy my time.”

Olenna smirked. “And does this ‘something’ have a name?”

I felt my cheeks flush. “Grandmother, please.”

“Oh, don’t be coy, dear,” Olenna said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you’ve finally found something—or someone—to make your time in King’s Landing more bearable.”

“And if I have?” I asked, meeting her gaze. “Is that so wrong?”

Olenna’s expression softened. “Not at all, my dear. Just be careful. Tywin Lannister is a powerful man, but he’s also a dangerous one. Don’t lose yourself in him.”

“I won’t,” I promised, though I wasn’t entirely sure if I believed it myself. Tywin was a force of nature, and being with him was like being caught in a storm. But it was a storm I had no desire to escape.

Margaery, for her part, was more supportive. “I’m glad you’ve found someone who makes you happy,” she said as we walked in the gardens later that day. “Just… be careful. The court can be a treacherous place, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assured her, though her concern touched me. “I’m not some naive girl who can’t handle herself. And Tywin… he’s different with me. I think I can trust him.”

“I hope you’re right,” Margaery said, squeezing my hand. “But just know that I’m here for you, no matter what.”

[mikasaerens]

House of the Dragon lacks fearlessness

The characters are all too safe and sanitized.

Meanwhile in ASOIAF/GOT we had actual female rivalries and ambitious female characters.

Cersei destroys her entire kingdom and rule just to get Margaery locked up on false charges. She tortures an innocent man, has the High Septon killed, secures her bastards on the throne not caring that it led to a war, murdered her best friend at age 11 just because her friend had a crush on Jaime etc..

Daenerys is not afraid to kill her abusive brother brutally, she secures her rule by brutally killing slave masters (as she should)

Olenna commits regicide

Sansa feeds Ramsay to the dogs and smiles. She goes behind her brother’s back to secure the Army of the Vale to claim victory for herself in the Battle of the Bastards.

And so on and so on!! Nobody regrets shit. They’re allowed to be fucking actual human beings!! Complex, flawed and brutal!

Meanwhile we have Alicent hesitating at defending her own family and getting mad at Aemond for suggesting Helaena get off her ass and fight.

We have Rhaenyra worrying about the small folk like any royal would ever give a fuck.

This show butchered its female characters. Completely and utterly.

[wodania]

Olenna and her (not) father-in-law Egg for @wickedlittlebxtchfromhighgarden 🤍🤍🤍 happy birthday!!!!

[idonsul]

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Lotus Elan S3, 1966. The Elan was an era-defining car and was for Lotus, their first really commercially successful road car. It featured a steel backbone chassis with a fibreglass body and was powered by a DOHC 1,558 cc engine, with 4-wheel disc brakes, rack and pinion steering and 4-wheel independent suspension. Sales were boosted in the UK and internationally when the character Emma Peel (played by Diana Ring) drove one in 60’s TV series The Avengers. It provided the template for the Mazda MX-5 Miata. In 2004, Sports Car International placed the Elan number 6 in a list of Top Sports Cars of the 1960s. 

PS: Diana Rigg had to learn to drive for the TV show, Lotus gave her the car when she left The Avengers, but she wasn't a keen driver and passed the Elan onto a friend. More recently Dame Diana played the role of Olenna Tyrell in Game of Thrones, she passed away in 2020, aged 82. R.I.P

[toadpeee]

One of the lastest of the asoiaf 6 fanarts thing I did ♡

[stormborns]

GAME OF THRONES 3.02, Dark Wings, Dark Words

[elycetellsall]

inherited feminine rage

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐲𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝑜𝑓 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛

𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐: "Growing Strong". 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒍: Is a golden rose on a green field. 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔: Members of the family tend to have curly brown hair and brown eyes.

Lords Paramount of the Mander and the liege lords of the Reach. House Tyrell is a large, wealthy house, its wealth is only surpassed among the Great Houses by House Lannister. The Tyrells control much of the agriculture in the Reach, making them influential players in the politics of Westeros.

Unlike most other Great Houses, the Tyrells never ruled as kings. Instead, they trace their line of descent through the female line to the legendary Garth the Gardener, the mythical first King of the Reach reigning in the Age of Heroes, and the son of the equally mythic Garth Greenhand.

After the fall of House Gardener, the Tyrells rose to prominence by supporting Aegon I Targaryen. In return for their loyalty, they were granted the title of Wardens of the South and became one of the most powerful houses in Westeros.

During the reign of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, the Tyrells hosted the famed Tourney of the Field of Roses.

As the Dance of the Dragons began, Lord Lyonel Tyrell was an infant, and his regent mother was judged likely to align the Reach with the House's "overmighty" bannermen, the Hightowers, and the greens.

However, House Tyrell decided to take no part in the war. The Tyrell bannermen, on the other hand, were split during the war, with men of the Reach fighting on both sides. Later Ser Ulf White attempted to claim Highgarden for himself, as House Tyrell had taken no part in the Dance and he believed they should be considered traitors.

During Robert's Rebellion, House Tyrell stayed loyal to King Aerys II Targaryen. Lord Mace Tyrell's forces achieved victory against Lord Robert Baratheon at the Battle of Ashford.

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