Tyrion Lannister swung off the bench and rose. His hair, the same silver-blond as hers, had been pulled back tightly behind his head and fastened with a dragonbone brooch. Haggo gave her a great leather whip with a silver handle, Cohollo a magnificent arakh chased in gold, and Qotho a double-curved dragonbone bow taller than she was. Sansa's no more than a child.
A tree was growing out between the stones on the north side of the Gatehouse Tower, its gnarled limbs festooned with ropy white blankets of ghostskin. The brothers on guard eyed him solemnly as he approached. I'm to assist Maester Aemon with the library and the birds. My lord, she said softly.
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