Heart warming moments?

[nara]

Jon's excitement when he hears that Bran is alive, even though it leads him to joke with Alliser Thorne.

Maester Luwin finding out that Bran and Rickon are still alive before he dies. I only wish Catelyn had been so lucky.

Jaime and Cersei's reunion in the sept...before they get nasty.

Sansa's snow castle

Cersei's faith in Jaime coming to her rescue and that she would know if he was dead.

The problem is these heartwarming moments are often ironic or followed by awful things

[thewingedwolf]

Sam and Gilly

[Northbound]

In hindsight, after knowing what has happened. Jon giving Needle to Arya. Robb and Jon's embrace, before Jon left for the wall. Jon asking Ned, if his mother was still alive, when they last spoke. All of these are pretty big for me, considering two them are no longer with us and who the hell knows if Jon and Arya, will ever see each other again.

[Hound Dog]

I thought it was nice the way Sandor forcefully took Arya away from the Twins during the RW (all axes aside), and then later on suggested to her that they hang around that village for the winter, implying he'd take care of her for the next few years. What a gent.

[Littlefingers In The Air]

Barristans badass Kingsguard exit speech made me feel all fuzzy inside

[KJR the PR of TaFW]

Barristans badass Kingsguard exit speech made me feel all fuzzy inside

oh yeah! :cool4:

[Le Cygne]

When Jon and Arya remember each other always got to me. If they don't see each other again...

[Fire Eater]

Jon giving Arya Needle

Sam with Gilly: What we did . . . if I could take a wife, I would sooner have you than any princess or highborn maiden, but I can't. I am still a crow. I said the words, Gilly. I went with Jon into the woods and said the words before a heart tree.

Sam deciding to go to swear his vows before a heart tree with Jon.

[SaltpansResident]

Sam with Gilly: What we did . . . if I could take a wife, I would sooner have you than any princess or highborn maiden, but I can't. I am still a crow. I said the words, Gilly. I went with Jon into the woods and said the words before a heart tree.

I actually cried a little at that. Sam finally expressed himself! :bawl:

Also the moment when LF comes back to the Vale to Sansa, and he's this totally evil poisoning murdering schemer and he's all, "I brought you a present!" and the ex-fiancee of King Joffrey and current wife of Tyrion the Imp is all, "Oh, great, you brought back lemons!" Because what matters in this world is keeping your promise to a bratty kid that he'll get to have 100 lemon tarts.

And that's the story of how I gave my heart to Sansa forever and ever.

[Malcolm of House Tucker]

Wylla Manderly's speech about her family's promise to the Starks. Up until that point, I had given up hope that the Starks would ever be avenged, but this speech helped remind me that "the North remembers." So when, later, Lord Wyman confesses his plans with Davos, I was as happy as a kid on Christmas. Of course, then George R.R. Martin cuts Wyman's throat...marking the third time in the series where I have literally thrown the book.

Also, the Theon chapters in A Dance With Dragons where he experiences remorse for betraying Robb. I never hated Theon like a lot of people do. He is a dislikeable character, sure, but I always thought of him as having a good heart, he just constantly made the wrong choices. The fact that he is showing remorse and wishes he could've been with Robb at the Red Wedding brought tears to my eyes.

[northernshe-wolf]

Theon and Jeyne have some lovely moments, like when he took her hand and rescued her.

Arya remembering Jon and the flour in the crypts. ;_;

Bran and Robb's fingers twining together.

NEEDLE WAS JON SNOW'S SMILE.

[Morienthar]

"Here Boy! melt it down and add it to the others"

[Mark Antony]

Even in the dark room, Bran could feel his brother’s smile. “And afterward, we’ll ride north to see the Wall. We won’t even tell Jon we’re coming, we’ll just be there one day, you and me. It will be an adventure.”

“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.

tear up every time

The quote about rescuing Ned's girls.

Lord Peasebury turned against the northmen. “This march was madness. More dying every day, and for what? Some girl?”

“Ned’s girl,” said Morgan Liddle.

“Ned’s girl,” echoed Big Bucket Wull. “And we should have had her and the castle both if you prancing southron jackanapes didn’t piss your satin breeches at a little snow.”

“A little snow?” Peasebury’s soft girlish mouth twisted in fury. “Your ill counsel forced this march upon us, Wull. I am starting to suspect you have been Bolton’s creature all along. Is that the way of it? Did he send you to us to whisper poison in the king’s ear?”

Big Bucket laughed in his face. “Lord Pea Pod. If you were a man, I would kill you for that, but my sword is made of too fine a steel to besmirch with craven’s blood.” He took a drink of ale and wiped his mouth. “Aye, men are dying. More will die before we see Winterfell. What of it? This is war. Men die in war. That is as it should be. As it has always been.”

Ser Corliss Penny gave the clan chief an incredulous look. “Do you want to die, Wull?”

That seemed to amuse the northman. “I want to live forever in a land where summer lasts a thousand years. I want a castle in the clouds where I can look down over the world. I want to be six-and-twenty again. When I was six-and-twenty I could fight all day and fuck all night. What men want does not matter.

Winter is almost upon us, boy. And winter is death. I would sooner my men die fighting for the Ned’s little girl than alone and hungry in the snow, weeping tears that freeze upon their cheeks. No one sings songs of men who die like that. As for me, I am old. This will be my last winter. Let me bathe in Bolton blood before I die. I want to feel it spatter across my face when my axe bites deep into a Bolton skull. I want to lick it off my lips and die with the taste of it on my tongue.

Oh man, it reminds me how much I loved Robb when I first read the series, which is why the Red Wedding really was so harrowing, because we actually really do care for him.

I hate you right now for your Bolton love

NEEDLE WAS JON SNOW'S SMILE.

“Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister," she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes.”

Here is another one that gets me

“The stone is strong. Bran told himself, the roots of the trees go deep, and under the ground the Kings of Winter sit their thrones. So long as those remained, Winterfell remained. It was not dead, just broken. Like me, he thought. I'm not dead either.”

[Rheagar Prime]

maester aemon telling jon who he was. Don't care what anyone says as crazy as aerys was and deserved what he got, but he still was his bro's grandson and family i felt for the guy not being able to help his family must have been brutal for him.

[Mark Antony]

Fat and awkward and frightened he might be, but Samwell Tarly was no fool. One night he visited Jon in his cell. “I don’t know what you did,” he said, “but I know you did it.” He looked away shyly. “I’ve never had a friend before.”

“We’re not friends,” Jon said. He put a hand on Sam’s broad shoulder. “We’re brothers.”

“First lesson,” Jon said. “Stick them with the pointy end.” Arya gave him a whap on the arm with the flat of her blade. The blow stung, but Jon found himself grinning like an idiot. “I know which end to use,” Arya said. A doubtful look crossed her face. “Septa Mordane will take it away from me.” “Not if she doesn’t know you have it,” Jon said. “Who will I practice with?” “You’ll find someone,” Jon promised her. “King’s Landing is a true city, a thousand times the size of Winterfell. Until you find a partner, watch how they fight in the yard. Run, and ride, make yourself strong. And whatever you do...” Arya knew what was coming next. They said it together. “Don’t... tell... Sansa!” Jon messed up her hair. “I will miss you, little sister.” Suddenly she looked like she was going to cry. “I wish you were coming with us.” “Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle. Who knows?” He was feeling better now.

She remembered a summer’s snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning. They’d each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she’d had none. Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she’d slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn’t, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing.

Sansa drifted past frosted shrubs and thin dark trees, and wondered if she were still dreaming. Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks. At the center of the garden, beside the statue of the weeping woman that lay broken and half-buried on the ground, she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams.

When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. it seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me. She scooped up a handful of snow and squeezed it between her fingers. Heavy and wet, the snow packed easily. Sansa began to make snowballs, shaping and smoothing them until they were round and white and perfect. She remembered a summer’s snow in Winterfell when Arya and Bran had ambushed her as she emerged from the keep one morning. They’d each had a dozen snowballs to hand, and she’d had none. Bran had been perched on the roof of the covered bridge, out of reach, but Sansa had chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until both of them were breathless. She might even have caught her, but she’d slipped on some ice. Her sister came back to see if she was hurt. When she said she wasn’t, Arya hit her in the face with another snowball, but Sansa grabbed her leg and pulled her down and was rubbing snow in her hair when Jory came along and pulled them apart, laughing.

What do I want with snowballs? She looked at her sad little arsenal. There’s no one to throw them at. She let the one she was making drop from her hand. I could build a snow knight instead, she thought. Or even…

She pushed two of her snowballs together, added a third, packed more snow in around them, and patted the whole thing into the shape of a cylinder. When it was done, she stood it on end and used the tip of her little finger to poke holes in it for windows. The crenellations around the top took a little more care, but when they were done she had a tower. I need some walls now, Sansa thought, and then a keep. She set to work. The snow fell and the castle rose. Two walls ankle-high, the inner taller than the outer. Towers and turrets, keeps and stairs, a round kitchen, a square armory, the stables along the inside of the west wall. It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell. She found twigs and fallen branches beneath the snow and broke off the ends to make the trees for the godswood. For the gravestones in the lichyard she used bits of bark. Soon her gloves and her boots were crusty white, her hands were tingling, and her feet were soaked and cold, but she did not care. The castle was all that mattered. Some things were hard to remember, but most came back to her easily, as if she had been there only yesterday. The Library Tower, with the steep stonework stair twisting about its exterior. The gatehouse, two huge bulwarks, the arched gate between them, crenelations all along the top...

And all the while the snow kept falling, piling up in drifts around her buildings as fast as she raised them.

I'll stop now

[bbstark]

When Jon and Arya remember each other always got to me. If they don't see each other again...

yes fuzzy hearts :)

actually people have mentioned so many good moments, Bran's crush on Meera, Sam and Gilly, Robb putting Bran to bed... just Bran is generally heartwarming, that kid is just so sweet :)

[Littlefingers In The Air]

Kevan and Tommen having a good laugh together. God, Tommen is the sweetest boy in literature, I swear.

[JonCon's Red Beard]

Theon admitting he wanted to be a Stark.

Jon saying he wanted to have children of his own, naming a son Robb and raising Gilly's baby in Winterfel so Sam could visit them.

In the show, the Hound taking Arya away from the RW. The way he did it, the imagery of the scene is very "knight-like".

[Tommen]

Kevan and Tommen having a good laugh together. God, Tommen is the sweetest boy in literature, I swear.

I agree.

My current pic reflects how I feel as I read this topic.

[Prefiera de Gryfalco]

I thought it was nice the way Sandor forcefully took Arya away from the Twins during the RW (all axes aside), and then later on suggested to her that they hang around that village for the winter, implying he'd take care of her for the next few years. What a gent.

And his line "this thing about your mother..." showed that even if Arya didn't understand it, he really did care in his own way.