May 22, 2018
“I owe you a deal of gratitude.” Jon Snow had slowed to walk at Tyrion’s side with a face like someone had just died. The King in the North, he was known for his honour, battles he’d survived and being the bastard son of a nobleman, but what Tyrion had always liked best about Jon was his icy glowering. “You have my respect,” Tyrion offered and Jon modestly bowed his head. “Though it’s possible that what you owe me are undergarments . Mine were repeatedly soiled in the Mountain’s presence.
Dead Men Sing No Songs by Birdie Lo Green