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Theon

           IwonderifIstillhavethatchain-mailgownIliketowearovermyboiledleathersmallclothes?"Shegavehimthatevilgrin,andcrossedthebridgewiththatwalkhe’dlikedsowell,halfsaunterandhalfsway.

           WhenTheonturnedaway,Wexwassmirkingathim.Hegavetheboyacloutontheear."That’sforenjoyingthissomuch."Andanother,harder."Andthat’sfornotwarningme.Nexttime,growatongue."

           No,hethoughtthen.Shewastheonewhomademeafool.Theevilbitchmusthaveenjoyedeverymomentofit.Andthewayshekeptreachingformycock...

           Hetookhiscupandwenttothewindowseat,wherehesatdrinkingandwatchingtheseawhilethesundarkenedoverPyke.Ihavenoplacehere,hethought,andAshaisthereason,maytheOtherstakeher!Thewaterbelowturnedfromgreentogreytoblack.Bythenhecouldheardistantmusic,andheknewitwastimetochangeforthefeast.

           Theonchoseplainbootsandplainerclothes,sombershadesofblackandgreytofithismood.Noornament;hehadnothingboughtwithiron.ImighthavetakensomethingoffthatwildlingIkilledtosaveBranStark,buthehadnothingworththetaking.That’smycursedluck,Ikillthepoor.

           Thelongsmokyhallwascrowdedwithhisfather’slordsandcaptainswhenTheonentered,nearfourhundredofthem.

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