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A Quiver of Quotes


Lady Shadow Cat

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Proposed Re-read Project

After being on the forum for a few weeks, and sorting through the multitude of theories, hypotheses, crack pots, heresies and what have you, I find the amount of information incredibly daunting and amazing.

What I am proposing is to have a collection of quotes that are word for word from the books that people can refer to more easily when compiling a theory and need evidence.

For example; I am currently starting with the topic of the Others/White Walkers and organizing relevant quotes into sub topics. Some of these topics are Behaviour, Descriptions, Battle and Weapons, General Referene to, and The Cold. Then I systematically put direct quotes with a reference to which novel, chapter and POV it came from under the appropriate heading.

I'm looking for others on this forum to help out with other topics. What I want is an unbiased, concise, organized "Quiver of Quotes" with absolutely no opinion or alterations to the text. Any possible relevant quote about the topic is fine as long as it comes direct from the novels or other GRRM work/interview that is relevant to the topic.

I know there are areas on the site that have chapter summaries and such but I want actual quotes collected that people can use while researching a theory. I can't stress the 'direct quote with references' thing enough.

I invite anyone interested to pick a subject and begin collecting their quotes. I look forward to see what we can come up with.

Topics that need to be covered.

Feel free to add any others you think should be on here.

  • The Others/White Walkers <--I'm currently working on this but don't mind collaborating :)
  • Children of the Forest
  • Wights
  • First Men
  • Andals
  • Rhoynors
  • Fire
  • Ice
  • Dragons
  • The Doom
  • Ashaii and the Shadow
  • Dragon lore
  • The PTWP
  • AA
  • Three Headed Dragon
  • Weirwood lore
  • FM
  • R+L=J and any other Jon parentage theories
  • Jon as King
  • Tyrion as a Fool
  • Tyrion as a King
  • Sansa and Sandor
  • Old Nan's stories (I think there might be one on here somewhere?)
  • Giants
  • Direwolves
  • Grumpkins
  • Wargs/Skinchangers
  • History of the Wall
  • The Starks (heritage/histories)
  • The Winterfell Crypts
  • Wildlings
  • Coldhands
  • Valyrians
  • Valyrian swords (any references to them)
  • Nights Watch
  • Nights KIng
  • Kingsguard
  • Giscari
  • R'hollor religion
  • The Seven religion
  • The Old Gods religion
  • Drowned God religion
  • Other religions mentioned?
  • The Stallion that Mounts the World
  • The Last Hero
  • Jaqen H'agar
  • Syrio
  • Quaithe's Prophesies
  • Visions/Dreams
  • Shadows
  • Hodor's background

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This is where I'm at so far with The Others. Just working my way through AGoT.

The Others/White Walkers

Descriptions:

AGoT Prologue p7-Will POV

"A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood...Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armour seemed to change as it moved; here it was white as new fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with ever step it took....It was very cold."

"Will saw its eyes, blue, deeper and bluer than any human eyes, a blue that burned like ice."

AGoT p203-Bran POV

“They were cold things, dead things, that hated iron and fire and the touch of the sun, and every creature with hot blood in its veins. "

Battle and Weapons:

AGoT Prologue p7-Will POV

"In its hand was a longsword like none that Will had ever seen. No human metal had gone into forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it almost seemed to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor."

AGoT Prologue p8-Will POV

"The pale sword cam shivering through the air. Ser Waymar met it with steel. When the blades met, there was no ring of metal on metal; only a high,thin sound at the edge of hearing, like an animal screaming in pain."

"Again and again the swords met, until Will wanted to cover his ears against the strange anguished keening of their clash...His blad was white with frost; The Other's danced in the pale blue light."

"Then Royce's parry came a bit too late. The pale sword bit throughthe ringmail beneath his arm...the droplets seemed red as fire where they touched the snow."

"Ser Waymar Royce...lifting the frost covered longsword with both hands and swinging it around in a flat sidearm slash with all his weight behind it. The Other's parry was almost lazy. When the blades touched, the steel shattered. A scream echoed through the forest night, and the longsword shivered into a hundred brittle pieces, the shards scattering like a rain on needles."

"The pale blades sliced throught ringmail as if it were silk."

AGoT p203-Bran POV

"They swept over holdfasts and cities and kingdoms, felled heroes and armies by the score, riding their pale dead horses and leading hosts of the slain. All the swords of men could not stay their advance, ..."

Behaviour:

AGoT Prologue p 7-Will POV

"The Others made no sound."

"Will saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Pale shapers gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it was gone."

AGoT Prologue p8 -Will POV

"They emerged silently from the shadows, twins to the first. Three of them..four...five..."

"Behind him, to right, to left, all around him, the watchers stood patient, faceless, silent, ...Yet they made no move to interfere."

"The Other said something in a language that Will did not know; his voice was like the cracking of ice on a winter lake, and the words were mocking."

"The watchers moved forward together, as if some signal had been given. Swords rose and fell, all in a deathly silence. It was cold butchery...Far beneath him, he heard their voices and laughter sharp as icicles."

AGoT p203-Bran POV

" Old Nan nodded. “In that darkness, the Others came for the first time,” she said as her needles went click click click. “They were cold things, dead things, that hated iron and fire and the touch of the sun, and every creature with hot blood in its veins. They swept over holdfasts and cities and kingdoms, felled heroes and armies by the score, riding their pale dead horses and leading hosts of the slain. All the swords of men could not stay their advance, and even maidens and suckling babes found no pity in them. They hunted the maids through frozen forests, and fed their dead servants on the flesh of human children.”

"One by one his friends died, and his horse, and finally even his dog, and his sword froze so hard the blade snapped when he tried to use it. And the Others smelled the hot blood in him, and came silent on his trail, stalking him with packs of pale white spiders big as hounds-”

AGOT p209-Bran POV

" 'There's not a man on the Wall knows the haunted forest better than Benjen Stark. He'll find his way back.'

'Well,' said Yoren, 'maybe be will and maybe he won't. Good men have gone into those woods before, and never come out.'

All Bran could think of was Old Nan's story of the Others and the last hero, hounded through the white woods by dead men and spiders big as hounds. He was afraid for a moment, until he remembered how the story ended."

The Cold:

AGoT Prologue p7

"He must have felt them, as Will felt them. There was nothing to see. 'Answer me! Why is it so cold?' " {ref to Ser Waymar Royce}

"It was cold. Shivering, Will clung more tightly to his perch."

"The wind had stopped. It was very cold."

"His hands trembled from the weight of it, or perhaps from the cold." {ref to his sword}

AGoT Prologue p 8-Will POV

"Ser Waymar may have felt the cold that came with them, but he never saw them."

AGoT p 175-Tyrion POV

{in ref to talking about White Walkers} "Lord Mormont moved to the window and stared out at the night. 'These are old bones, Lannister, but they have never felt a chill like this.' "

AGOT p202-Bran POV

“ 'Oh, my sweet summer child,” Old Nan said quietly, “what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods.”

“You mean the Others,” Bran said querulously.

“The Others,” Old Nan agreed.""

General References to the Others:

AGoT Chapter 2 p20-Catelyn POV

" 'There are darker things beyond the wall."...His smile was gentle. 'You listen to too many of Old Nan's stories. The Others are as dead as the children of the forest, gone eight thousand years. Maester Luwin will tell you they never lived at all. No living man has ever seen one.' "

AGOT p175- Tyrion POV

" 'There are wild things in the woods, direwolves and mamoths and snow bears the size of aurochs, and I have seen darker things in my dreams.'

'In your dreams,' Tyrion echoed...Mormont was deaf the the edge in his voice.

'The fisherfolk near Eastwatch have glimpsed white walkers on the shore.'....'They are running my lord but from what?.....Winter is coming, and when the Long Night falls, only the NIght's Watch will stand between the realm and the darkness that sweeps from the north. The gods help us if we are not ready.' "

AGoT p338-Bran POV

"“You’re as stupid as you are ugly, Hali,” said the tall woman. “The boy’s worth nothing dead, but alive … gods be damned, think what Mance would give to have Benjen Stark’s own blood to hostage!”

“Mance be damned,” the big man cursed. “You want to go back there, Osha? More fool you. Think the white walkers will care if you have a hostage?” He turned back to Bran and slashed at the strap around his thigh. "

AGoT p464-Jon POV

{In ref to finding the dead wight bodies} “ ‘So you believe this is Mance Rayder’s work? This close to the wall?’

‘Who else, my lord?’

Jon could have told him. He knew, they all knew, yet no man of them would say the words. The Others are only a story, a tale to make children shiver. If they ever lived at all, they are gone eight thousand years.”

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Nights Watch, Shieldhall, numbers (what's the policy on extended quotes?)

The Shieldhall was one of the older parts of Castle Black, a long drafty feast hall of dark stone, its oaken rafters black with the smoke of

centuries. Back when the Night’s Watch had been much larger, its walls had been hung with rows of brightly colored wooden shields. Then as now,

when a knight took the black, tradition decreed that he set aside his former arms and take up the plain black shield of the brotherhood. The shields

thus discarded would hang in the Shieldhall.

Hundreds of knights meant hundreds of shields. Hawks and eagles, dragons and griffins, suns and stags, wolves and wyverns, manticores,

bulls, trees and flowers, harps, spears, crabs and krakens, red lions and golden lions and chequy lions, owls, lambs, maids and mermen, stallions,

stars, buckets and buckles, flayed men and hanged men and burning men, axes, longswords, turtles, unicorns, bears, quills, spiders and snakes

and scorpions, and a hundred other heraldic charges had adorned the Shieldhall walls, blazoned in more colors than any rainbow ever dreamed of.

But when a knight died, his shield was taken down, that it might go with him to his pyre or his tomb, and over the years and centuries fewer and

fewer knights had taken the black. A day came when it no longer made sense for the knights of Castle Black to dine apart. The Shieldhall was

abandoned. In the last hundred years, it had been used only infrequently. As a dining hall, it left much to be desired—it was dark, dirty, drafty, and

hard to heat in winter, its cellars infested with rats, its massive wooden rafters worm-eaten and festooned with cobwebs.

But it was large and long enough to seat two hundred, and half again that many if they crowded close. When Jon and Tormund entered, a sound

went through the hall, like wasps stirring in a nest. The wildlings outnumbered the crows by five to one, judging by how little black he saw. Fewer

than a dozen shields remained

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Nights Watch, Shieldhall, numbers (what's the policy on extended quotes?)

Please put what novel, chapter POV, and page number along with your quotes so it is easily cross checked. I'm not sure if there is a forum policy on how to manage long quotes, but Im sure it must be posted in a help section somewhere.

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  • 1 month later...

May I suggest adding a Young Griff category? There isn't much pre-Dance, but there are few things... Illyrio's "enigmatic smile" in Game and Rhagear's "the dragon has three heads, there has to be one more" (paraphrasing, I can get the exact quote if you want) in the HotU come to mind.

I already highlighted a lot of stuff related to Jon's parentage/RLJ/ToJ on my last reread, let me copy them here. I guess maybe somebody has done it before, probably better than I have, but oh well.

ETA: Okay, some of them are pretty far-fetched, so feel free not to include them. Problem is, as I am realizing on my current reread, that depending on my mood (and how far my highlighter was at the time...), I sometimes let go of things like Jon's appearances, and sometimes highlighted them. But it's still a starting point I guess.

I've sometimes added comments, who are mostly just rambling or justifications of why the quotes seem relevant to Jon's parents imo. Feel free to skip them entirely, they basically belong in the RLJ threads more than here, except they don't, really, because they are not deep analysis or actual theories or anything.

I put them in the order they appeared in the books, but I could easily separate them into subcategories like you did with your WW findings if you like.

Here goes!

A GAME OF THRONES (all pages are from a Bantam edition)

Eddard I (Chapter 4; pages 43-44)

He could hear her still at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister's eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. After that he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his. Ned could recall none of it. "I bring her flowers when I can," he said. "Lyanna was... fond of flowers."

(Comments: I kept Ned's words to Robert at the end because I found it weird that he would hesitate, or consider saying something else, or something.)

Catelyn II (Chapter 6; pages 60, 65-66)

Eddard Stark had married her in Brandon's place, as custom decreed, but the shadow of his dead brother still lay between them, as did the other, the shadow of the woman he would not name, the woman who had borne him his bastard son.
Ned would not speak of the mother, not so much as a word, but a castle has no secrets, and Catelyn heard her maids repeating tales they heard from the lips of her husband's soldiers. They whispered of Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, deadliest of the seven knights of Aerys's Kingsguard, and of how their young lord had slain him in single combat. And they told how afterward Ned had carried Ser Arthur's sword back to the beautiful young sister who awaited him in a castle called Starfall on the shores of the Summer Sea.The Lady Ashara Dayne, tall and fair, with haunting violet eyes. It had taken her a fortnight to marshal her courage, but finally, in bed one night, Catelyn had asked her husband the truth of it, asked him to his face.

That was the only time in all their years that Ned had ever frightened her. "Never ask me about Jon," he said, cold as ice. "He is my blood, and that is all you need to know. And now I will learn where you heard that name, my lady." She had pledged to obey; she told him; and from that day on, the whispering had stopped, and Ashara Dayne's name was never heard in Winterfell again.

Whoever Jon's mother had been, Ned must have loved her fiercely, for nothing Catelyn said would persuade him to send the boy away.

Eddard II (Chapter 12, pages 110-111, 112-113)

(Robert is talking at the beginning of the quote)

"[...] Yours was... Aleena? No. You told me once. Was it Merryl? You know the one I mean, your bastard's mother?"

"Her name was Wylla," Ned replied with cool courtesy, "and I would sooner not speak of her."

"Wylla. Yes." The king grinned. "She must have been a rare wench if she could make Lord Eddard Stark forget about his honor, even for an hour. You never told me what she looked like..."

Ned's mouth tightened in anger. "Nor will I. Leave it be, Robert, for the love you say you bear me. I dishonored myself and I dishonored Catelyn, in the sight of gods and men."

"Gods have mercy, you scarcely knew Catelyn."

"I had taken her to wife. She was carrying my child."

(Comments: I actually did not highlight the last two sentences. They may be of interest to timeline experts and/or people who think Jon is actually older than Robb - bastards grow up faster and whatnot.)

(Robert is talking at the beginning of the quote)

"[...] And Rhaegar... How many times do you think he raped your sister? How many hundreds of times?"

Tyrion II (Chapter 13, page 124)

He had the Stark face if not the name: long, solemn, guarded, a face that gave nothing away. Whoever his mother had been, she had left little of herself in her son.

Sansa I (Chapter 15, page 144)

And Jon's mother had been common, or so people whispered.

Jon III (Chapter 19, page 181)

Not my mother, Jon thought stubbornly. He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. In his dreams, she was beautiful, and highborn, and her eyes were kind.

(Comments: I hope I would have highlighted any physical description of Lyanna... It would be interesting to see if her eyes are ever described as "kind". On an unrelated note, this reminds me of a discussion about A+J=Jaime and Cersei, where the guy used Jaime's dream and Joanna's words as a clue. Somebody replied something among the lines of "Jaime would not know, so where would that knowledge come from?" One could argue that our true parentage is, somehow, written deep within ourselves - which would explain why Jon can "almost see" his mother. Or that could just mean he actually met her when he was a baby, or that I am reading too much into that and he just sees a hot highborn chick cause nobody wants a fat tavern wench for a mom. Sorry about the huge digression.)

Eddard VIII (Chapter 33, page 357)

Some secrets are safer kept hidden. Some secrets are too dangerous to share, even with those you love and trust.

Eddard IX (Chapter 35, pages 379, 380 (twice), 381)

"Robert will never keep to one bed," Lyanna had told him at Winterfell, on the night long ago when their father had promised her hand to the young Lord of Storm's End. "I hear he has gotten a child on some girl in the Vale." Ned had held the babe in his arms, he could scarcely deny it, nor would he lie to his sister, but he had assured her that what Robert did before their betrothal was of no matter, that he was a good man and true who would love her with all his heart. Lyanna had only smiled. "Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature."

Ned Stark kept his vows. He thought of the promises he'd made Lyanna as she lay dying, and the price he'd paid to keep them.

Ned saw Jon Snow's face in front of him, so like a younger version of his own. If the gods frowned so on bastards, he thought dully, why did they feel men with such lusts?

(Comments: Okay, I went "dude, seriously?" at myself when I saw this was highlighted, but then two things seemed of interest. The fact that, given the context - he just met Barra - he does not think of Jon as, say, "his own bastard son"; and the fact that, not only does he seem to consider Jon as a bastard (which he would not really be if Rhaegar had married Lyanna), but also as the fruit of a man's lusts (which he would not entirely be if, for some reason, Rhaegar knew it had to be Lyanna who'd be AAR's mom.))

For the first time in years, he found himself remembering Rhaegar Targaryen. He wondered if Rhaegar had frequented brothels; somehow he thought not.

(Comments: Far fetched, but the way he compares Rhaegar with Robert might indicate he knew Lyanna was not so innocent of her abduction. Further fetched, but he did start thinking about Rhaegar, which apparently he did not do often, right after going on about Jon and bastardness. Right? Right?!)

Eddard X (Oh Joy! Chapter 39, pages 424-425, 427)

(quote pasted from the wiki)

He dreamt an old dream, of three knights in white cloaks, and a tower long fallen, and Lyanna in her bed of blood.

In the dream his friends rode with him, as they had in life. Proud Martyn Cassel, Jory's father; faithful Theo Wull; Ethan Glover, who had been Brandon's squire; Ser Mark Ryswell, soft of speech and gentle of heart; the crannogman, Howland Reed; Lord Dustin on his great red stallion. Ned had known their faces as well as he knew his own once, but the years leech at a man's memories, even those he had vowed never to forget. In the dream they were only shadows, grey wraiths on horses made of mist.

They were seven, facing three. In the dream as it had been in life. Yet these were no ordinary three. They waited before the round rower, the red mountains of Dorne at their backs, their white cloaks blowing in the wind. And these were no shadows; their faces burned clear, even now. Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, had a sad smile on his lips. The hilt of the greatsword Dawn poked up over his right shoulder. Ser Oswell Whent was on one knee, sharpening his blade with a whetstone. Across his white-enameled helm, the black bat of his House spread its wings. Between them stood fierce old Ser Gerold Hightower, the White Bull, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

“I looked for you on the Trident,” Ned said to them.

“We were not there,” Ser Gerold answered.

“Woe to the Usurper if we had been,” said Ser Oswell.

“When King's Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were.”

“Far away,” Ser Gerold said, “or Aerys would yet sit the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in seven hells.”

“I came down on Storm's End to lift the siege,” Ned told them, and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them.”

“Our knees do not bend easily,” said Ser Arthur Dayne.

“Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you might have sailed with him.”

“Ser Willem is a good man and true,” said Ser Oswell.

“But not of the Kingsguard,” Ser Gerold pointed out. “The Kingsguard does not flee.”

“Then or now,” said Ser Arthur. He donned his helm.

“We swore a vow,” explained old Ser Gerold.

Ned’s wraiths moved up beside him, with shadow swords in hand. They were seven against three.

“And now it begins,” said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light.

“No,” Ned said with sadness in his voice. “Now it ends." As they came together in a rush of steel and shadow, he could hear Lyanna screaming. "Eddard!" she called. A storm of rose petals blew across a blood-streaked sky, as blue as the eyes of death.

"Lord Eddard," Lyanna called again.

"I promise," he whispered. "Lya, I promise..."

"Lord Eddard," a man echoed from the dark.

(Comments: Left the last part just so people don't go HEY WHY DID LYANNA CALL HER BROTHER LORD EDDARD LOL)

(Ned is talking at the beginning of the quote)

"[...] Jory would want to lie beside his grandfather."

It would have to be his grandfather, for Jory's father was burried far to the south. Martyn Cassel had perished with the rest. Ned had pulled the tower down afterward, and used its bloody stones to build eight cairns upon the ridge. It was said that Rhaegar had named that place the Tower of Joy, but for Ned it was a bitter memory. They had been seven against three, yet only two had lived to ride away; Eddard Stark himself and the little crannogman, Howland Reed. He did not think it omened well that he should dream that dream again after so many years.

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Jon V (Chapter 41, page 448)

Even his own mother had not had a place for him. The thought of her made him sad. He wondered who she had been, what she had looked like, why his father had left her. Because she was a whore or an adulteress, fool. Something dark and dishonorable, or else why was Lord Eddard too ashamed to speak of her?

Eddard XII (Chapter 45, pages 486, 487)

If it came to that, the life of some child I did not know, against Robb and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon, what would I do? Even more so, what would Catelyn do, if it were Jon's life, against the children of her body?

(Cersei is talking at the beginning of the quote)

"[...]You've a bastard of your own, I've seen him. Who was the mother, I wonder? Some Dornish peasant you raped while her holdfast burned? A whore? Or was it the grieving sister, the Lady Ashara? She threw herself into the sea, I'm told. Why was that? For the brother you slew, or the child you stole? [...]"

Jon VII (Chapter 52, pages 560, 561)

I will ask him about my mother, he resolved. I am a man now, it is past time he told me. Even if she was a whore, I don't care. I want to know.

(Comments: Uh, yeah.)

Lord Eddard Stark would never dishonor himself... Would he?

He fathered a bastard, a small voice whispered inside him. Where was the honor in that? And your mother, what of her? He will not even speak her name.

Eddard XV (Chapter 59, pages 629, 630-631, 635)

When he slept, he dreamed: dark disturbing dreams of blood and broken promises.

(Comments: what broken promises, bro)

(Harrenhal tourney!)

The memory came creeping upon him in the darkness, as vivid as a dream. It was the year of the false spring, and he was eighteen again, down from the Eyrie to the tourney at Harrenhal. He could see the deep green of the grass, and smell the pollen on the wind. Warm days and cool nights and the sweet taste of wine. He remembered Brandon's laughter, and Robert's berserk valor in the melee, the way he laughed as he unhorsed men left and right. He remembered Jaime Lannister, a golden youth in scaled white armor, kneeling on the grass in front of the king's pavilion and making his vows to protect and defen King Aerys, Afterward, Ser Oswell Whent helped Jaime to his feet, and the White Bull himself, Lord Commander Ser Gerold Hightower, fastened the snowy cloak of the Kingsguard about his shoulders. All six White Swords were there to welcome their new brother.

Yet when the jousting began, the day belonged to Rhaegar Targaryen. The crown prince wore the armor he would die in: gleaming black plate with the three-headed dragon of his House wrought in rubies on the breast. A plume of scarlet silk streamed behind him when he rode, and it seemed no lance could touch him. Brandon fell to him, and Bronze Yohn Royce, and even the splendid Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning.

Robert had been jesting with Ned and old Lord Hunter as the prince circled the field after unhorsing Ser Barristan in the final tilt to claim the champion's crown. Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost.

Ned Stark reached out his hand to grasp the flowery crown, but beneath the pale blue petals the thorns lay hidden. He felt them clawing at his skin, sharp and cruel, saw the slow trickle of blood run down his fingers, and woke, trembling, in the dark.

Promise me, Ned, his sister had whispered from her bed of blood. She had loved the scent of winter roses.

(Varys is speaking at the beginning of the quote)

"[...] I believe she will allow you to take the black and live out the rest of your days on the Wall, with your brother and that baseborn son of yours."

The thought of Jon filled Ned with a sense of shame, and a sorrow too deep for words. If only he could see the boy again, sit and talk with him...

Jon VIII (Chapter 60, page 662)

He wanted to say that Lord Eddard would never dishonor himself, not even for love, yet inside a sly small voice whispered, He fathered a bastard, where was the honor in that? And your mother, what of his duty to her, he will not even say her name.

(Comments: Never noticed how Jon thinks the exact same thing, almost word for word, a few chapters apart. Nosrsly guys, he would never. Would he?)

Bran VII (Chapter 66, page 730)

(Bran is talking at the beginning of the quote)

"[...]We went down to the crypts. Father was there, and we talked. He was sad."

"And why was that?" Luwin peered through his tube.

"It was something to do about Jon, I think." The dream had been deeply disturbing, more so than any of the other crow dreams. "Hodor won't go down in the crypts."

(Comments: You had one job, Bran. ONE JOB. TWoW is gonna start with Bran going "OH SHIT I GOTTA HEAD BACK TO CASTLE BLACK TELL MY BRO SOMETHING")

Jon IX (Chapter 70, page 784)

(Jeor is talking at the beginning of the quote)

"Your lord father sent you to us, Jon. Why, who can say?"

"Why? Why? Why?" the raven called.

(Comments: Might be relevant for those who believe Jeor's raven is warged by Bloodraven.)

A CLASH OF KINGS (all pages are from a bantam edition)

Bran III (Chapter 21, page 332)

(Ned is talking at the beginning of the quote, during a flashback)

"[...] They called him the Sword of the Morning, and he would have killed me but for Howland Reed." Father had gotten sad then, and he would say no more. Bran wished he had asked him what he meant.

Catelyn VI (Chapter 45, pages 650, 653-654)

I did so gladly, though I never saw Ned's face until our wedding day. I gave my maidenhood to this solemn stranger and sent him off to his war and his king and the woman who bore him his bastard, because I always did my duty.

Arya was the only one to show much of Ned in her features. And Jon Snow, but he was never mine. She found herself thinking of Jon's mother, that shadowy secret love her husband would never speak of. Does she grieve for Ned as I do? Or did she hate him for leaving her bed for mine? Does she pray for her son as I have prayed for mine?

They were uncomfortable thoughts, and futile. If Jon had been born of Ashara Dayne of Starfall, as some whispered, the lady was long dead; if not, Catelyn had no clue who or where his mother might be. And it made no matter. Ned was gone now, and his loves and his secrets had all died with him.

Still, she was struck again by how strangely men behaved when it came to their bastards. Ned had always been fiercely protective of Jon, [...]

Daenerys IV (House of the Undying! Chapter 48, pages 701, 706)

(Rhaegar vision)

He looked up when he said it and his eyes met Dany's, and it seemed as if he saw her standing there beyond the door. "There must be one more," he said, though whether he was speaking to her or the woman in the bed she could not say. "The dragon has three heads."

(Comments: not gonna get into details here, I could talk about this vision for hours, but I think a lot of people have considered the one missing head to be Jon)

A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness....

Jon VI (Chapter 51, pages 739-740, 745, 749)

Jon had made a joke of it, saying how he'd always wondered who his mother was, but never thought to find her in the Frostfangs. It did not seem nearly so amusing now.

(Comments: I so love this one. COLDHANDS IS LYANNA.)

(Ygritte is talking at the beginning of the quote)

"Who was your mother?"

"Some woman. Most of them are." Someone had said that to him once. He did not remember who.

She smiled again, a flash of white teeth. "And she never sung you the song o' the winter rose?"

"I never knew my mother. Or any such song."

He was his father's son. Wasn't he? Wasn't he?

(Comments: Like, really? Wasn't he? WASN'T HE?)

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A STORM OF SWORDS (all pages are from a Voyager edition, which split the book in two)

Bran II (Knight of the Laughing Tree! Chapter 24, pages 357-364)

(quote originally typed by Anvik, few corrections by myself)

"There was one knight," said Meera, "in the year of the false spring. The Knight of the Laughing Tree, they called him. He might have been a crannogman, that one."

"Or not, " Jojen's face was dappled with green shadows. "Prince Bran has heard that tale a hundred times, I'm sure."

"No," said Bran. "I haven't. And if I have it doesn't matter. Sometimes Old Nan would tell the same story she'd told before, but we never minded, if it was a good story. Old stories are like old friends, she used to say. You have to visit them from time to time."

"That's true." Meera walked with her shield on her back, pushing an occasional branch out of the way with her frog spear. Just when Bran began to think she wasn't going to tell the story after all, she began, "Once there was a curious lad who lived in the Neck. He was small like all crannogmen, but b rave and smart and strong as well. He grew up hunting and fishing and climbing trees, and learned all the magics of my people."

Bran was almost certain he had never heard this story. "Did he have green dreams like Jojen?"

"No," said Meera, "but he could breathe mud and run on leaves, and change earth to water and water to earth with no more than a whispered word. He could talk to trees and weave words and make castles appear and disappear."

"I wish I could," Bran said plaintively. "When does he meet the tree knight?"

Meera made a face at him. "Sooner if a certain prince would be quiet."

"I was just asking."

"The lad knew the magics of the crannogs," she continued, "but he wanted more. Our people seldom travel far from home you know. We're a small folk, and our ways seem queer to some, so the big people do not always treat us kingly. But this lad was bolder than most, and one day when he had grown to manhood he decided he would leave the crannogs and visit the Isle of Faces."

"No one visits the Isle of Faces." objected Bran. "That's where the green men live."

"It was the green men he meant to find. So he donned a shirt sewn with bronze scales, like mine, took up a leather shield and a three-pronged spear, like mine, and paddled a little skin boat down the Green Fork."

Bran closed his eyes to try and see the man in his little skin boat. In his head, the crannogman looked like Jojen, only older and stronger, and dressed like Meera.

"He passed beneath the Twins by night so the Freys would not attack him, and when he reached the Trident he climbed from the river and put his boat on his head and began to walk. It took him many a day, but finally he reached the Gods Eye, threw his boat in the lake, and paddled out to the Isle of Faces."

"Did he meet the green men?"

"Yes," said Meera, "But that's another story, and not for me to tell. My prince asked for knights."

"Green men are good too."

"They are," she agreed, but said no more about them. "All that winter the crannogman stayed on the isle, but when spring broke he heard the wide world calling and knew the time had come to leave. His skin boat was just where he'd left it, so he said his farewells and paddled off toward shore. He rowed and rowed, and finally saw the distant towers of a castle rising beside the lake. The towers reached ever higher as he neared shore, until he realized this must be the greatest castle in all the world."

"Harrenhal!" Bran knew at once. "It was Harrenhal!"

Meera smiled. "Was it? Beneath it's walls he saw tents of many colors, bright banners cracking in the wind, and knights in mail and plate on barded horses. He smelled roasting meats, and heard the sound of laughter and the blare of heralds' trumpets. A great tourney was about to commence, and champions from all over the land had come to contest it. The king himself was there, with his son the dragon prince. The White Swords had come, to welcome a new brother to their ranks. The storm lord was on hand, and the rose lord as well. The great lion of the rock had quarreled with the king and stayed away, but many of his bannermen and knights attended all the same. The crannogman had never seen such pageantry, and knew he might never see the like again. Part of him wanted nothing so much as to be part of it."

Bran knew that feeling well enough. When he'd been little, all he had ever dreamed of was being a knight. But that had been before he fell and lost his legs.

"The daughter of the great castle reigned as queen of love and beauty when the tourney opened. Five champions had sworn to defend her crown; her four brothers of Harrenhal, and her famous uncle, a white knight of the Kingsguard."

"Was she a fair maid?"

"She was," said Meera, hopping over a stone, "but there were others fairer still. One was the wife of the dragon prince, who'd brought a dozen lady companions to attend her. The knights all begged them for favors to tie about their lances."

"This isn't going to be one of those love stories, is it?" Bran asked suspiciously. "Hodor doesn't like those so much."

"Hodor," said Hodor agreeably.

"He likes the stories where the knights fight monsters."

"Sometimes the knights are the monsters, Bran. The little crannogman was walking across the field, enjoying the warm spring day and harming none, when he was set upon by three squires. They were none older than fifteen, yet even so they were bigger than him , all three. This was their world, as the saw it, and he had no right to be there. They snatched away his spear and knocked him to the ground, cursing him for a frogeater."

"Were they Walders?" It sounded like something Little Walder Frey might have done.

"None offered a name, but he marked their faces well so he could revenge himself upon them later. They shoved him down every time he tried to rise, and kicked him when he curled up on the ground. But then they heard a roar. 'That's my father's man you're kicking,' howled the she-wolf."

"A wolf on four legs, or two?"

"Two," said Meera. "The she-wolf laid into the squires with a tourney sword, scattering them all. The crannogman was bruised and bloodied, so she took him back to her lair to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen. There he met her pack brothers: the wild wolf who led them, the quiet wolf beside him, and the pup who was youngest of the four.

"That evening there was to be a feast in Harrenhal, to mark the opening of the tourney, and the she-wolf insisted that the lad attend. He was of high birth, with as much a right to a place on the bench as any other man. She was not easy to refuse, this wolf maid, so he let the young pup find him garb suitable to a king's feast, and went up to the great castle.

"Under Harren's roof he ate and drank with the wolves, and many of their s worn swords besides, barrowdown men and moose and bears and mermen. The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle, but when her pup brother teased her for crying she poured wine over his head. A black brother spoke, asking the knights to join the Night's Watch. The storm lord drank down the knight of skulls and kisses in a wine-cup war. The crannogman saw a maid with laughing purple eyes dance with a white sword, a red snake, and the lord of griffins, and lastly with the quiet wolf...but only after the wild wolf spoke to her on behalf of a brother too shy to leave his bench.

"Amidst all this merriment, the little crannogman spied the three squires who'd attacked him. One served a pitchfork knight, one a porcupine, while the last attended a knight with two towers on his surcoat, a sigil all crannogmen know well."

The Freys," said Bran. "The Freys of the Crossing."

"Then, as now," she agreed. "The wolf maid saw them too, and pointed them out to her brothers. 'I could find you a horse, and some armor that might fit,' the pup offered. The little crannogman thanked him, but gave no answer. His heart was torn. Crannogmen are smaller than must, but just as proud. The lad was no knight, no more than any of his people. We sit a boat more often then a horse, and our hands are made for oars, not lances. Much as he wished to have his vengeance, he freared he would only make a fool of himself and shame his people. The quiet wolf had offered the little crannogman a place in his tent that night, but before he slept he knelt on the lakeshore, looking across the water to where the Isle of Faces would be. and said a prayer to the old gods of north and Neck..."

"You never heard this tale from your father?" asked Jojen.

"It was Old Nan who told the stories. Meera, go on, you can't stop there."

Hodor must have felt the same. "Hodor," he said, and then, "Hodor hodor hodor hodor."

"Well," said Meera, "if you would hear the rest..."

"Yes, Tell it."

"Five days of jousting were planned," she said. "There was a great seven-sided melee as well, and archery and axe-throwing, a horse race, and tourney of singers..."

"Never mind about all that." Bran squirmed impatiently in his basket on Hodor's back. "Tell about the jousting."

"As my prince commands. The daughter of the castle was queen of love and beauty, with four brothers and an uncle to defend her, but all four sons of Harrenhal were defeated on the first day. Their conquerors reigned briefly as champions, until they were vanquished in turn. As it happened the end of the first day saw the porcupine knight win a place among the champions, and on the morning of the second day the pitchfork knight and the knight of the two towers were victorious as well. But late on the afternoon of that second day, as the shadows grew long, a mystery knight appeared in the lists."

Bran nodded sagely. Mystery knights would oft appear at tourneys, with helms concealing their faces, and shields that were either blank or bore some strange device. Sometimes they were famous champions in disguise, the Dragonknight once won a tourney as the Knight of Tears, so he could name his sister the queen of love and beauty in place of the king's mistress. And Barristan the Bold twice donned a mystery knight's armor, the first time when he was only ten. "It was the little crannogman, I bet."

"No one knew," said Meera, "but the mystery knight was short of stature, and clad in ill-fitting armor made up of bits and pieces. The device upon his shield was a heart tree of the old gods, a white weirwood with a laughing red face."

"Maybe he came from the Isle of Faces," said Bran. "Was he green?" In Old Nan's stories the guardians had dark green skin and leaves instead of hair. Sometimes they had antlers too, but Bran didn't see how the mystery knight could have worn a helm if he had antlers. "I bet the old gods sent him."

"Perhaps they did. The mystery knight dipped his lance before the king and rode to the end of the lists, where the five champions had their pavilions. You know the three he challenged."

"The porcupine knight, the pitchfork knight, and the knight of the twin towers." Bran had heard enough stories to know that. "He was the little crannogman, I told you."

"Whoever he was, the old gods gave strength to his arm. The porcupine knight fell first, then the pitchfork knight, and lastly the knight of the two towers. None were well loved, so the common folk cheered lustily for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, as the new champion soon was called. When his fallen foes sought to ransom horse and armor, the Knight of the Laughing Tree spoke in a booming voice through his helm, saying, 'Teach your squires honor, that shall be ransom enough.' Once the defeated knights chastised their squires sharply, their horses and armor were returned. And so the little crannogman's prayer was answered...by the green men, or the old gods, or the children of the forest, who can say?"

It was a good story, Bran decided after thinking about it a moment or two. "Then what happened, Did the Knight of the Laughing Tree win the tourney and marry a princess?"

"No," said Meera. "That night at the great castle, the storm lord and the knight of skulls and kisses each sword they would unmask him, and the king himself urged men to challenge him,, declaring that the face behind that helm was no friend of his. But the next morning, when the heralds blew their trumpets and the king took his seat, only two champions appeared. The Knight of the Laughing Tree had vanished. The king was wroth, and even sent his son the dragon prince to seek the man, but all they ever found was his painted shield, hanging abandoned in a tree. It was the dragon prince who won that tourney in the end."

"Oh." Bran thought about the tale awhile. "That was a good story. But it should have been the three bad knights who hurt him, not their squires. Then the little crannogman could have killed them all. The part about the ransoms was stupid. And the Mystery knight should win the tourney, defeating every challenger, and name the wolf maid the queen of love and beauty."

"She was," said Meera, "but that's a sadder story."

"Are you certain you never heard this tale before Bran?" asked Jojen. "Your lord father never told it to you?"

Bran shook his head.

Jon III (Chapter 26, pages 376-377, 380 (twice))

(At the beginning of the quote, Jon is thinking about Arya)

Is she still my sister? He wondered. Was she ever? He had never truly been a Stark, only Lord Eddard's motherless bastard, with no more place at Winterfell than Theon Greyjoy.

Even my father stumbled once, when he forgot his marriage vows and sired a bastard. Jon vowed that it would be the same with him. It will never happen again.

Was this how it was for my father? he wondered. Was he as weak as I am, when he dishonored himself in my mother's bed?

Jon V (Chapter 41, page 595)

Many a night he lay with Ygritte warm beside him, wondering if his lord father had felt this confused about his mother, whoever she had been.

(more to come...)

(Or not D:)

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