— How do you sleep?
— Same as most men, I think.
— But you've seen things, horrible things.
— Aye. I've seen some pretty things, too, but not nearly so many.
— How do you sleep when you... When you have those things in your head?
— You didn't see that. I made damn sure.
— I close my eyes and I see them up there. All of them standing there. Joffrey, the Queen and... and my sister.
— You know, we've got something in common, me and you. You know that? I must have been a couple of years older than you. I saw my brother stabbed through the heart right on our doorstep. He weren't much of a villain what skewered him. Willem, the lad's name was. He ran off before anyone could spit. And I just stood there, watching my brother die. Here's the funny part. I can't picture my brother's face anymore. But Willem, oh, he was a nice-looking boy. He had good white teeth, blue eyes, one of those dimpled chins all the girls like. I would think about him when I was working, when I was drinking, when I was having a shit. It got to the point where I would say his name every night before I went to bed. Willem. Willem. Willem. A prayer almost. Well, one day, Willem came riding back into town. I buried an ax so deep into Willem's skull they had to bury him with it. Willem's horse got me to the Wall and I've been wearing black ever since.
