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The Last Sentence


rmholt

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"See," said Osha as she looked down from the hill of frozen ash where the Great Sept of Baelor once stood. "I told you spending winter on Skagos was a good idea. The Other's and the dragons have laid waste to all of Westeros by the look of it. There's nothing left, no people, no King's Landing, not even a road."

Rickon cocked an eyebrow. "Roads," he replied. "Where we're going, we don't need roads."

Rickon FTW!

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"I had the same nightmare last night", Rickon said. "There were two huge waves of ice and fire clashing together, destroying each other, melting in a huge water wave..."

"Water", Osha interrupted him, "Water for the seeds of new life that were planted. It was no nightmare Rickon, it was a dream of spring."

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At last they road over the downs and took the Kingsroad, and then Grenn and Pyp rode on to Castle Black; and already they were singing again as they went. But Sam turned to Horn Hill, and so came back up the hill, as the day was ending once more. And he went on, and there was yellow light, and fire within; and the evening meal was ready, as he was expected. And Gilly drew him in, and set him in his chair, and put their little baby upon his lap.

He drew a deep breath. "Well, I'm back" he said.

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At last they road over the downs and took the Kingsroad, and then Grenn and Pyp road on to Castle Black; and already they were singing again as they went. But Sam turned to Horn Hill, and so came back up the hill, as the day was ending once more. And he went on, and there was yellow light, and fire within; and the evening meal was ready, as he was expected. And Gilly drew him in, and set him in his chair, and put their little baby upon his lap.

He drew a deep breath. "Well, I'm back" he said.

👏

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Sitting at the high table, fat ran down his chin, soaking in his thick bushy beard as Sam gnawed away at the charred pork ribs. The stench of roast onion, blood sausage, apricots and roast pig invaded his nostrils, making him salivate even as he chewed away at the fine feast that the Summer Islanders had prepared for the sole Westerosi survivor of the Long Winter. Sam's belly ached, about to burst, but still he induldged, biting once into a fresh red apple only to toss it away and jam his hand into th keylime pie, smearing it against his chapped lips. Finally Sam thought, Food, and not just salt beerf! The Salt beef had got him through his long cravens trek south, but it had always left his mouth dry and a great thirst on his tongue. No need to worry about that now, for Sam had all the spiced ale and mulled wine he could possibly want to wash even the saltiest food down with.

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