Oathkeeper, Oathbreaker

We're all just a little of both.

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

The old man hurriedly gathered up his things and took his leave. Ned had little doubt that he was bound straight for the royal apartments, to whisper at the queen. I thought you had best know, indeed . . . as if Cersei had not instructed him to pass along her father’s threats. He hoped his response rattled those perfect teeth of hers.

Eddard XII, A GAME OF THRONES

He is not a bold man, this one, Catelyn thought. More of a Frey than a Lannister, in truth. His cousin the Kingslayer would have been a much different matter. They would never have gotten that honorific through Ser Jaime Lannister’s perfect teeth.

Catelyn I, A CLASH OF KINGS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

Lord Tywin wove his fingers together under his chin. Only his eyes moved as he listened. His bristling golden sidewhiskers framed a face so still it might have been a mask, but Tyrion could see tiny beads of sweat dappling his father’s shaven head.

Tyrion IX, A GAME OF THRONES

It fell to Roger Ryswell and Barbrey Dustin to calm them with quiet words. Roose Bolton said nothing at all. But Theon Greyjoy saw a look in his pale eyes that he had never seen before—an uneasiness, even a hint of fear.

A Ghost in Winterfell, A DANCE WITH DRAGONS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

When he saw Davos he stopped suddenly. “Is it pepper stinging my eyes, or tears? Is this the knight of the onions who stands before me? No, how can it be, my dear friend Davos died on the burning river, all agree. Why has he come to haunt me?” “I am no ghost, Salla.” “What else? My onion knight was never so thin or so pale as you.” Salladhor Saan threaded his way between the jars of spice and bolts of cloth that filled the hold of the merchanter, wrapped Davos in a fierce embrace, then kissed him once on each cheek and a third time on his forehead. “You are still warm, ser, and I feel your heart thumpety-thumping. Can it be true? The sea that swallowed you has spit you up again.”

Davos II, A STORM OF SWORDS

Yet when he saw Davos, a faint smile brushed his lips. “So the sea has returned me my knight of the fish and onions.” “It did, Your Grace.” Does he know that he had me in his dungeon? Davos went to one knee. “Rise, Ser Davos,” Stannis commanded.  “I have missed you, ser.”

Davos IV, A STORM OF SWORDS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

Across the tent, Rhaegal unfolded green wings to flap and flutter a half foot before thumping to the carpet. When he landed, his tail lashed back and forth in fury, and he raised his head and screamed. If I had wings, I would want to fly too, Dany thought. The Targaryens of old had ridden upon dragonback when they went to war. She tried to imagine what it would feel like, to straddle a dragon’s neck and soar high into the air. It would be like standing on a mountaintop, only better. The whole world would be spread out below. If I flew high enough, I could even see the Seven Kingdoms, and reach up and touch the comet.

Daenerys I, A CLASH OF KINGS

As Arya crossed the yard to the bathhouse, she spied a raven circling down toward the rookery, and wondered where it had come from and what message it carried. Might be it’s from Robb, come to say it wasn’t true about Bran and Rickon. She chewed on her lip, hoping. If I had wings I could fly back to Winterfell and see for myself. And if it was true, I’d just fly away, fly up past the moon and the shining stars, and see all the things in Old Nan’s stories, dragons and sea monsters and the Titan of Braavos, and maybe I wouldn’t ever fly back unless I wanted to.

Arya X, A CLASH OF KINGS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

He looked at her as he fell and murmured “Cat” as the bright blood came flowing out between his mailed fingers.

Catelyn VII, A GAME OF THRONES

Rubies flew like drops of blood from the chest of a dying prince, and he sank to his knees in the water and with his last breath murmured a woman’s name.

Daenerys IV, A CLASH OF KINGS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

Burning pitch was one thing, wildfire quite another. Evil stuff, and well-nigh unquenchable. Smother it under a cloak and the cloak took fire; slap at a fleck of it with your palm and your hand was aflame. “Piss on wildfire and your cock burns off,” old seamen liked to say.

Davos III, A CLASH OF KINGS

An arrow could be aimed, and a spear, even the stone from a catapult, but wildfire had a will of its own. Once loosed, it was beyond the control of mere men.

Tyrion XIII, A CLASH OF KINGS

The pyromancers said that only three things burned hotter than their substance: dragonflame, the fires beneath the earth, and the summer sun.

Cersei III, A FEAST FOR CROWS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

He wore crimson silk, high black boots, a black satin cloak. On the breast of his tunic, the lion of his House was embroidered in gold thread, roaring its defiance.

Jon I, A GAME OF THRONES

The mud muffled the hooves of the blood bay stallion. The line parted before him. On a golden breastplate, the lion of Lannister roared its defiance.

Eddard IX, A GAME OF THRONES

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

“He was on his way to Riverrun when . . .” Strange, how telling it still made her throat grow tight, after all these years. “. . . when he heard about Lyanna, and went to King’s Landing instead. It was a rash thing to do.” She remembered how her own father had raged when the news had been brought to Riverrun. The gallant fool, was what he called Brandon.

Catelyn VII, A CLASH OF KINGS

She curled up in the window seat and tried to read a book, until the words became a blur and she realized that she was crying again. Arys, my sweet, my white knight, why did you do it? You should have yielded. I tried to tell you, but the words caught in my mouth. You gallant fool, I never meant for you to die[.]

The Princess in the Tower, A FEAST FOR CROWS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

“Arya was a trial, it must be said. Half a boy and half a wolf pup.”

Catelyn VII, A CLASH OF KINGS

“I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling[.]”

Jon X, A DANCE WITH DRAGONS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

Catelyn was shaking. It was the grief, the cold, the howling of the direwolves. Night after night, the howling and the cold wind and the grey empty castle, on and on they went, never changing, and her boy lying there broken, the sweetest of her children, the gentlest, Bran who loved to laugh and climb and dreamt of knighthood, all gone now, she would never hear him laugh again. Sobbing, she pulled her hand free of his and covered her ears against those terrible howls. “Make them stop!” she cried. “I can’t stand it, make them stop, make them stop, kill them all if you must, just make them stop!”

Catelyn III, A GAME OF THRONES

She dreamed that she was lying in a boat, her head pillowed on someone’s lap. There were shadows all around them, hooded men in mail and leather, paddling them across a foggy river with muffled oars. She was drenched in sweat, burning, yet somehow shivering too. The fog was full of faces. “Beauty,” whispered the willows on the bank, but the reeds said, “freak, freak.” Brienne shuddered. “Stop,” she said. “Someone make them stop.”

Brienne VIII, A FEAST FOR CROWS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

Well, this is something.

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

Gods Do Not Forget

The songs said that Storm’s End had been raised in ancient days by Durran, the first Storm King, who had won the love of the fair Elenei, daughter of the sea god and the goddess of the wind. On the night of their wedding, Elenei had yielded her maidenhood to a mortal’s love and thus doomed herself to a mortal’s death, and her grieving parents had unleashed their wrath and sent the winds and waters to batter down Durran’s hold. His friends and brothers and wedding guests were crushed beneath collapsing walls or blown out to sea, but Elenei sheltered Durran within her arms so he took no harm, and when the dawn came at last he declared war upon the gods and vowed to rebuild. Five more castles he built, each larger and stronger than the last, only to see them smash asunder when the gale winds came howling up Shipbreaker Bay, driving great walls of water before them. His lords pleaded with him to build inland; his priests told him he must placate the gods by giving Elenei back to the sea; even his smallfolk begged him to relent. Durran would have none of it. A seventh castle he raised, most massive of all. Some said the children of the forest helped him build it, shaping the stones with magic; others claimed that a small boy told him what he must do, a boy who would grow to be Bran the Builder. No matter how the tale was told, the end was the same. Though the angry gods threw storm after storm against it, the seventh castle stood defiant, and Durran Godsgrief and fair Elenei dwelt there together until the end of their days.

Catelyn III, A CLASH OF KINGS

The storm came up suddenly, howling, and Shipbreaker Bay proved the truth of its name. The lord’s two-masted galley Windproud broke up within sight of his castle. From its parapets his two eldest sons had watched as their father’s ship was smashed against the rocks and swallowed by the waters. A hundred oarsmen and sailors went down with Lord Steffon Baratheon and his lady wife, and for days thereafter every tide left a fresh crop of swollen corpses on the strand below Storm’s End.

Prologue, A CLASH OF KINGS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

Stevron Frey was Walder’s firstborn, and he died for Robb’s cause. Once Robb betrayed the Freys, I don’t think there would have been anything Catelyn could say or do to dissuade Walder from killing her firstborn, because in his mind he probably considers Catelyn partially responsible for his own son’s death. A son for a son, heh?

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

Tyrion Lannister was bundled in furs so thickly he looked like a very small bear.

Jon III, A GAME OF THRONES

Jon Snow moved closer. He looked bigger and heavier in his layers of fur and leather[.]

Tyrion III, A GAME OF THRONES

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

Podrick Payne had changed as well, and looked almost a proper squire for once, although a rather large red pimple in the fold beside his nose spoiled the effect of his splendid purple, white, and gold raiment. He is such a timid boy. Sansa had been wary of Tyrion’s squire at first; he was a Payne, cousin to Ser Ilyn Payne who had taken her father’s head off. However, she’d soon come to realize that Pod was as frightened of her as she was of his cousin. Whenever she spoke to him, he turned the most alarming shade of red.

Sansa IV, A STORM OF SWORDS

She was dressed in silk brocade, a quartered gown of blue and red decorated with golden suns and silver crescent moons. On another girl it might have been a pretty gown, but not on her. She was twelve, ungainly and uncomfortable, waiting to meet the young knight her father had arranged for her to marry, a boy six years her senior, sure to be a famous champion one day. She dreaded his arrival. Her bosom was too small, her hands and feet too big. Her hair kept sticking up, and there was a pimple nestled in the fold beside her nose.

Brienne VIII, A FEAST FOR CROWS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

“Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. She loved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that. I often sent away her maid so I could brush her hair myself. She had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft . . . the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper.”

Catelyn VII, A CLASH OF KINGS

“Sansa was a little lady,” she had said, “always courteous and eager to please. She loved tales of knightly valor. She will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I, you can see that. I would often brush her hair myself. She had auburn hair, thick and soft . . . the red in it would shine like copper in the light of the torches.”

Brienne II, A FEAST FOR CROWS

[oathkeeperoathbreaker]

Tom o’ Sevens

She knew the singer by the woodharp he cradled against his jerkin, as a mother might cradle a babe. A small man, fifty from the look of him, he had a big mouth, a sharp nose, and thinning brown hair. His faded greens were mended here and there with old leather patches, and he wore a brace of throwing knives on his hip and a woodman’s axe slung across his back.

Arya II, A STORM OF SWORDS

He was a small fellow, garbed in ragged green breeches and a frayed tunic of a lighter shade of green, with brown leather patches covering the holes. His nose was long and sharp, his smile big and loose. Thin brown hair fell to his collar, snaggled and unwashed. Fifty if he’s a day, thought Jaime, a hedge harp, and hard used by life.

Jaime VII, A FEAST FOR CROWS