The Lord Of Winterfell Would Always Be

The Odd Thing About Being A Writer Is You Do Tend To Lose Yourself In Your Books. Sometimes It Seems Like Real Life Is Flickering By And You're Hardly A Part Of It. You Remember The Events In Your Books Better Than You Remember The Events That Actually Took Place When You Were Writing Them.

It Was Bitingly Cold Up Here,and The Wind Pulled At His Clothes Like An Insistent Lover.

The Pale Pink Light Of Dawn Sparkled On Branch And Leaf And Stone. Every Blade Of Grass Was Carved From Emerald, Every Drip Of Water Turned To Diamond. Flowers And Mushrooms Alike Wore Coats Of Glass. Even The Mud Puddles Had A Bright Brown Sheen. Through The Shimmering Greenery, The Black Tents Of His Brothers Were Encased In A Fine Glaze Of Ice. So There Is Magic Beyond The Wall After All.

You Promised Him Vengeance As Well.' 'i Promised Him Justice.' 'call It What You Will. It Still Comes Down To Blood." - Tywin & Tyrion

I Think Life Is A Jape. Yours, Mine, Everyone's