Even across the room, where Catelyn sat, the wink of gold was unmistakable. Only this time the dream had gone further than before. She was a Stark of Winterfell, Ned said quietly. th, soaping his long black hair and combing the knots and tangles from it till it shone again as she remembered.
Bran was safe. Ned galloped to him, bringing his longsword down on Tregar's helm. Drogo tossed in the belt and watched without expression as the medallions turned red and began to lose their shape. Rivulets of moisture twisted down the back of his cloak.
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