She held Needle in her left hand, her sword hand, the candle in her right fist. His face was a copper mask, yet under the long black mustache, drooping beneath the weight of its gold rings, she thought she glimpsed the shadow of a smile. Her fingers trailed lightly across the surface of the shell, tracing the wisps of gold, and deep in the stone she felt something twist and stretch in response. Listen to Maester Luwin's counsel, and take care of Rickon.
Only here, where the King in the North threw back every army that tried to cross the Neck, did the rule of the First Men endure. By then it would be safe for her to come creeping back out and find her way home. Her eye was red where he'd hit her. Know your foe, Ser Rodrik had taught him once; Jon knew Haider, brutally strong but short of patience, with no taste for defense.
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