“The High Septon once told me that as we sin, so do we suffer. If that’s true, Lord Eddard, tell me… why is it always the innocents who suffer most, when you high lords play your game of thrones?”
― A Game of Thrones
― A Game of Thrones
“Your brother Robb has been crowned King in the North. You and Aemon have that in common. A king for a brother.” said Mormont.
“And this too,” said Jon. “A vow.”
The Old Bear gave a loud snort, and the raven took flight, flapping in a circle about the room. “Give me a man for every vow I’ve seen broken and the Wall will never lack for defenders.”
“I’ve always known that Rob will be Lord of Winterfell.”
Mormont gave a whistle, and the bird flew to him again and settled on his arm. “A lord’s one thing, a king’s another. They will garb your brother Robb in silks, satins, and velvets of a hundred different colors, while you live and die in black ringmail. He will wed some beautiful princess and father sons on her. You’ll have no wife, nor will you ever hold a child of your own blood in your arms. Robb will rule, you will serve. Men will call you a crow. Him they’ll call `Your Grace’. Singers will praise every little thing he does, while your greatest deeds all go unsung. Tell me that none of this troubles you, Jon… and I’ll name you a liar, and know I have the truth of it.”
Jon drew himself up, taut as a bowstring “And if it did trouble me, what might I do, bastard as I am?”
“What will you do?” Mormont asked. “Bastard as you are.”
“Be troubled,” said Jon, “and keep my vows.”
― A Clash of Kings
“And this too,” said Jon. “A vow.”
The Old Bear gave a loud snort, and the raven took flight, flapping in a circle about the room. “Give me a man for every vow I’ve seen broken and the Wall will never lack for defenders.”
“I’ve always known that Rob will be Lord of Winterfell.”
Mormont gave a whistle, and the bird flew to him again and settled on his arm. “A lord’s one thing, a king’s another. They will garb your brother Robb in silks, satins, and velvets of a hundred different colors, while you live and die in black ringmail. He will wed some beautiful princess and father sons on her. You’ll have no wife, nor will you ever hold a child of your own blood in your arms. Robb will rule, you will serve. Men will call you a crow. Him they’ll call `Your Grace’. Singers will praise every little thing he does, while your greatest deeds all go unsung. Tell me that none of this troubles you, Jon… and I’ll name you a liar, and know I have the truth of it.”
Jon drew himself up, taut as a bowstring “And if it did trouble me, what might I do, bastard as I am?”
“What will you do?” Mormont asked. “Bastard as you are.”
“Be troubled,” said Jon, “and keep my vows.”
― A Clash of Kings
“Will you make a song for him?' the woman asked.
'He has a song,' the man replied. 'He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire.”
― A Clash of Kings
'He has a song,' the man replied. 'He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire.”
― A Clash of Kings
“That man said he’d take your head too.”
“Well, as to that,” Yoren said, “if he can get it off my shoulders, he’s welcome to it.”
― A Clash of Kings
“Well, as to that,” Yoren said, “if he can get it off my shoulders, he’s welcome to it.”
― A Clash of Kings
“So many vows... they make you swear and swear. Defend the king. Obey the king. Keep his secrets. Do his bidding. Your life for his. But obey your father. Love your sister. Protect the innocent. Defend the weak. Respect the gods. Obey the laws. It’s too much. No matter what you do, you’re forsaking one vow or the other.”
― A Clash of Kings
― A Clash of Kings
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