There are gods and there are true knights too. All the stories can’t be lies.
I’ll want my commission in writing. A document that will leave Mace Tyrell in no doubt as to my authority, granting me full power to treat with him concerning this match and any other arrangements that might be required, and to make binding pledges in the king’s name. It should be signed by Joffrey and every member of this council, and bear all our seals.
Ser used to call me Shitmouth, if it please m’lord.
Nothing knits a broken realm together so quick as an invading army on its soil.
Dreams can lie, your Grace.
Alysanne would like that,” the king said. “She enjoys the company of clever women.
It’s like putting on new clothes, Sam had told him. The fit feels strange at first, but once you’ve worn them for a while you get to feeling comfortable.
I’m going to tell Mother!” Joffrey exclaimed.
So Ned bent his head and wrote, but where the king had said “my son Joffrey,” he scrawled “my heir” instead.
Dreams turn to dust in light of day.
We should start back,” Gared urged as the woods began to grow dark around them. “The wildlings are dead.” “Do the dead frighten you?” Ser Waymar Royce asked with just the hint of a smile. Gared did not rise to the bait. He was an old man, past fifty, and he had seen the lordlings come and go. “Dead is dead,” he said. “We have no business with the dead.” “Are they dead?” Royce asked softly. “What proof have we?” “Will saw them,” Gared said. “If he says they are dead, that’s proof enough for me.
I know skinchangers who’ve tried hawks, owls, ravens. Even in their own skins, they sit moony, staring up at the bloody blue.
Another day done” – he would sigh – “and who knows what the morrow will bring us, eh, Dunk?
My Throne is made from the swords of my enemies.
I have been half my life away from home,” Theon ventured at last. “Will I find the islands changed?” “Men fish the sea, dig in the earth, and die. Women birth children in blood and pain, and die. Night follows day. The winds and tides remain. The islands are as our god made them.
Careful now, Shagga, you’ve cut him.” Shagga growled. “Dolf fathered warriors, not barbers.
Aegon the Conqueror brought fire and blood to Westeros, but afterward he gave them peace, prosperity, and justice. But all I have brought to Slaver’s Bay is death and ruin. I have been more khal than queen, smashing and plundering, then moving on.
How they loved to promise heads, these men who would be king.
Bleed a cold but feast a fever.
I, however, am innocent as a little lamb. Shall I bleat for you?