she would die as she had lived, with an axe in her hand and a laugh upon her lips.
Perhaps that is the secret. It is not what we do, so much as why we do it.
She was no stranger to waiting, after all. Her man had always made her wait.
Every man must die, Jon Snow. But first he must live.
Tomorrow's trials concerned her more than yesterday's triumphs.
The maester smiled...Hush now, child, I'm much older than you. I can....die as I please.