Sometimes when I’m trying to understand a person’s motives, I play a little game. I assume the worst.
I am a Stark, yes, I can be brave.
No need to seize the last word, Lord Baelish. I’ll assume it was something clever.
— I'll never see it again.
— A lot can happen between now and never.
When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.
— Every time I'm faced with a decision, I close my eyes and see the same picture. Whenever I consider an action, I ask myself will this action help to make this picture a reality? Pull it out of my mind and into the world? And I only act if the answer is yes. A picture of me on the Iron Throne and you by my side.
— It's a pretty picture.
— What are you doing?
— Praying.
— You're perfect, aren't you? Praying. What are you praying for?
— For the gods to have mercy on us all.
— Oh. On all of us?
— Yes, Your Grace.
— Even me?
— Of course, Your Grace.
— Even Joffrey?
— Joffrey is my...
— Oh, shut up, you little fool. Praying to the gods to have mercy on us all. The gods have no mercy. That's why they're gods. My father told me that when he caught me praying. My mother had just died, you see. I didn't really understand the concept of death, the finality of it. I thought that if I prayed very, very hard, the gods would return my mother to me.
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