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Started reading
January 14, 2024
“Your brother Jon asked it of me. And I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things.”
“An adventure,” Bran repeated wistfully. He heard his brother sob. The room was so dark he could not see the tears on Robb’s face, so he reached out and found his hand. Their fingers twined together.
Thick, moist air covered the city like a damp woolen blanket, and the riverside had grown unruly as the poor fled their hot, airless warrens to jostle for sleeping places near the water, where the only breath of wind was to be found.
“Near forty years I have been Grand Maester of the Seven Kingdoms,” Pycelle replied. “Under our good King Robert, and Aerys Targaryen before him, and his father Jaehaerys the Second before him, and even for a few short months under Jaehaerys’s father, Aegon the Fortunate, the Fifth of His Name.
“He reports to Varys. The Spider has taken a great interest in you and all your doings.”
Notice that he enjoys a fine view of the door to this tower, the better to note who calls on you. There are others, many unknown even to me. The Red Keep is full of eyes. Why do you think I hid Cat in a brothel?”
the king tells the queen much too much,
“Lord Petyr,” Ned called after him. “I … am grateful for your help. Perhaps I was wrong to distrust you.” Littlefinger fingered his small pointed beard. “You are slow to learn, Lord Eddard. Distrusting me was the wisest thing you’ve done since you climbed down off your horse.”
he beheld the fattest boy he had ever seen standing in the door of the armory. By the look of him, he must have weighed twenty stone.
embroidered surcoat
Dressed for battle, the new boy looked like an overcooked sausage about to burst its skin.
Jon Snow winced.
Jon Snow took a step forward.
“Look at him, Halder,” Jon urged, ignoring Thorne as best he could. “There’s no honor in beating a fallen foe. He yielded.”
Suddenly Pyp was beside him.
Grenn had stepped up to make a third.
“My name is Samwell Tarly, of Horn …”
What sort of man would proclaim himself a coward?
On a clear day you could see half the world from the top of the Wall, and the air was always cold and bracing.
“I’ll die if I have to climb that.”
It was Ghost who knew what to do. Silent as shadow, the pale direwolf moved closer and began to lick the warm tears off Samwell Tarly’s face. The fat boy cried out, startled … and somehow, in a heartbeat, his sobs turned to laughter.
“Sometimes I dream about it,” he said. “I’m walking down this long empty hall. My voice echoes all around, but no one answers, so I walk faster, opening doors, shouting names. I don’t even know who I’m looking for. Most nights it’s my father, but sometimes it’s Robb instead, or my little sister Arya, or my uncle.”
A lot of Targaryans have dreams of the future.. Aegon the conqueror had a dream of the Long Night, his sister had a dream of Valyria's doom. I wonder if this dream is significant in any way.. Possibly foretelling the events of when Winterfell is lost of the Starks? Very interesting little thing.
Even the ravens are gone from the rookery, and the stables are full of bones. That always scares me. I start to run then, throwing open doors, climbing the tower three steps at a time, screaming for someone, for anyone. And then I find myself in front of the door to the crypts. It’s black inside, and I can see the steps spiraling down. Somehow I know I have to go down there, but I don’t want to. I’m afraid of what might be waiting for me. The old Kings of Winter are down there, sitting on their thrones with stone wolves at their feet and iron swords across
more on the dream.. I'm interested to know if this plays differently in the books than in the show. This is very early foreshadowing.
their laps, but it’s not them I’m afraid of.
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I scream that I’m not a Stark, that this ...
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A literal direct foreshadow to later on.
Do we ever find out in the books that he's a Targaryan?
I start down, feeling the walls as I descend, with no torch to light the way. It gets darker and darker, until I want to scream.” He stopped, frowning, embarrassed. “That’s when I always wake.”
He never makes it to the bottom... wonder why?
His passions were books and kittens and dancing, clumsy as he was.
One man had him sleep in his chainmail to make him more martial. Another dressed him in his mother’s clothing and paraded him through the bailey to shame him into valor.
“two men came to the castle, warlocks from Qarth with white skin and blue lips. They slaughtered a bull aurochs and made me bathe in the hot blood, but it didn’t make me brave as they’d promised. I got sick and retched. Father had them scourged.”
Is this not like the warlocks Danaerys meets in the show? Nice cross reference here
Nothing would please me more than to hunt you down like the pig you are.”
When he was done, they sat together and listened to the wind for a time. There was no other sound in all the world.
Jon knew the words to move him. One by one the rest fell in line. Jon persuaded some, cajoled some, shamed
the others, made threats where threats were required. At the end they had all agreed … all but Rast.
“We’re fortunate my brother Stannis is not with us. Remember the time he proposed to outlaw brothels?
In the songs, Lann was the fellow who winkled the Casterlys out of Casterly Rock with no weapon but his wits, and stole gold from the sun to brighten his curly hair.
Inside was a miniature painted in the vivid Myrish style, of a lovely young girl with doe’s eyes and a cascade of soft brown hair.
Loras Tyrell’s sister Margaery,
I could fashion a direwolf helm so real that children will run from you in the street,” he vowed.
his arms and chest corded with muscle.
sullen blue eyes
“This is Gendry. Strong for his age, and he works hard.
“It is better than the songs,” she whispered
she knew they were looking at her and smiling.
Jeyne covered her eyes whenever a man fell, like a frightened little girl, but Sansa was made of sterner stuff. A great lady knew how to behave at tournaments. Even Septa Mordane noted her composure and nodded in approval.
Sansa never saw it. Her eyes were only for Ser Loras.
She was drunk on the magic of the night, giddy with glamour, swept away by beauties she had dreamt of all her life and never dared hope to know.
Sandor Clegane stopped suddenly in the middle of a dark and empty field. She had no choice but to stop beside him. “Some septa trained you well. You’re like one of those birds from the Summer Isles, aren’t you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite.”
Ned had slept badly last night and he felt tired beyond his years. “None of us is ever ready,” he said. “For knighthood?” “For death.”
Syrio was teaching her to see with her ears and her nose and her skin, she told him. Before that, he had her doing spins and back flips.
Jon Arryn had been Hand for fourteen years. What was he doing that they had to kill him?” “Asking questions,” Varys said, slipping out the door.
