Melssndre - I Was A Golden Witch

Asshai by the shadow aesthetic

religions of asoiaf — R'hllor, also known as the Lord of Light, the Heart of Fire, the God of Flame and Shadow,is a prominent god in Essos, but has only a few followers in Westeros, where he is more commonly known as the red god. His symbol is a fiery heart. Red priests lead prayers to R'hllor at red temples. The religion is based on a dualistic, manichean view of the world: R'hllor, the god of light, heat, and life, and R'hllor's antithesis the Great Other, the god of ice and death. They are locked in an eternal struggle over the fate of the world; a struggle that, according the ancient prophecies from the books of Asshai, will only end when Azor Ahai, the messianic figure, returns wielding a flaming sword called Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and raises dragons from stone.

“One sailor with a story, aye, a man might laugh at that, but when oarsmen off four different ships tell the same tale in four different tongues …“

"The tales are not the same,” insisted Armen. “Dragons in Asshai, dragons in Qarth, dragons in Meereen, Dothraki dragons, dragons freeing slaves … each telling differs from the last.”

“Only in details. All speak of dragons, and a beautiful young queen.”

saturnincs 

Smoke rose as Melisandre throw some of her powders to the flames, the colors changing gradually and the ruby in her necklace glows and burns her skin.

the priestess press her lips together as she reads the flames, the vague messages from her lord always confusing. “what you seek” she says to the form behind her “is not yet here...” she trails off, words dying in her tongue like old songs “but it will come.”

The red woman was all Selyse was not; young, full-bodied, and strangely beautiful, with her heart-shaped face, coppery hair, and unearthly red eyes. 

As ever, she wore red head to heel, a long loose gown of flowing silk as bright as fire, with dagged sleeves and deep slashes in the bodice that showed glimpses of a darker bloodred fabric beneath. Her hair was not the orange or strawberry color of common red-haired men, but a deep burnished copper that shone in the light of the torches. Men’s eyes that once found her did not quickly look away, not even a maester’s eyes.