"Gods be good, why would any man ever want to be king? When everyone was shouting King in the North, King in the North, I told myself.. swore to myself.. that I would be a good king, as honorable as Father, strong, just, loyal to my friends and brave when I faced my enemies.. now I can’t even tell one from the other. How did it all get so confused?"
Here was her son on his stallion, glancing back at her one last time and lifting his sword in salute. Here was the call of Maege Mormont’s warhorn, a long low blast that rolled down the valley from the east, to tell them that the last of Jaime’s riders had entered the trap. And Grey Wind threw back his head and howled.
“Shaggy,” a small voice called. When Bran looked up, his little brother was standing in the mouth of Father’s tomb. With one final snap at Summer’s face, Shaggydog broke off and bounded to Rickon’s side. “You let my father be,” Rickon warned Luwin. “You let him be.”