Our enemy is ready. His full strength’s gathered. Not only Orcs, but Men as well. Legions of Haradrim from the south, mercenaries from the coast. All will answer Mordor’s call.
Your father and I are ashamed and in disbelief at your reprehensible decision to not only associate with mudbloods, but to go off and marry one! You are a disgrace to not only us, but to your sisters and to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Your disgusting, traitorous actions will not be tolerated. We raised you to be the archetypal pureblood witch and not only have you failed to reach that standard, you have also disgraced what it means to be a pureblood- to be a Black.
You are no longer welcome in our household. We do not allow traitors, harlots or those who associate with mudbloods to remain in our family. You have besmirched the House of Black. You are no daughter of mine.
Do not attempt to contact us.
The Lord of the Rings book covers designed by J.R.R Tolkien himself.
I waited, and so can he. I waited half my life. She had played the dutiful daughter, the blushing bride, the pliant wife. She had suffered Robert’s drunken groping, Jaime’s jealousy, Renly’s mockery, Varys with his titters, Stannis endlessly grinding his teeth. She had contended with Jon Arryn, Ned Stark, and her vile, treacherous, murderous dwarf brother, all the while promising herself that one day it would be her turn. If Margaery Tyrell thinks to cheat me of my hour in the sun, she had bloody well think again.