And Pray That He Is The Man

His Cloak Was His Crowning Glory; Sable, Thick And Black And Soft As Sin.

I Had An Encyclopedia With A List Of Flags In The Back, So I Would Look At All These Flags Of China And Liberia And England And Denmark And Whatever, And I Learned All The Different Flags And I Tried To Imagine What It Would Be Like To Be Voyaging On Some Of These Ships.

Choosing... It Has Always Hurt. And Always Will. I Know.

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.

Trust Is Earned. Like Gold.