A Feast for Dragons

Your Grace for so long as you wish to
remain with us. This is our Lord Steward, Bowen Marsh. He will find quarters
for your men.”
    “How kind of you to make room for us.” The queen’s words
were courteous enough, though her tone said,
It is no more than your
duty, and you had best hope these quarters please me
. “We will not be
with you long. A few days at the most. It is our intent to press on to our new
seat at the Nightfort as soon as we are rested. The journey from Eastwatch was
wearisome.”
    “As you say, Your Grace,” said Jon. “You will be cold and
hungry, I am sure. A hot meal awaits you in our common room.”
    “Very good.” The queen glanced about the yard. “First,
though, we wish to consult with the Lady Melisandre.”
    “Of course, Your Grace. Her apartments are in the King’s
Tower as well. This way, if you will?” Queen Selyse nodded, took her daughter
by the hand, and permitted him to lead them from the stables. Ser Axell, the
Braavosi banker, and the rest of her party followed, like so many ducklings
done up in wool and fur.
    “Your Grace,” said Jon Snow, “my builders have done all they
can to make the Nightfort ready to receive you … yet much of it
remains in ruins. It is a large castle, the largest on the Wall, and we have
only been able to restore a part of it. You might be more comfortable back at
Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.”
    Queen Selyse sniffed. “We are done with Eastwatch. We did
not like it there. A queen should be mistress beneath her own roof. We found
your Cotter Pyke to be an uncouth and unpleasant man, quarrelsome and
niggardly.”
    You should hear what Cotter says of you
. “I
am sorry for that, but I fear Your Grace will find conditions at the Nightfort
even less to your liking. We speak of a fortress, not a palace. A grim place,
and cold. Whereas Eastwatch—”
    “Eastwatch
is not safe.”
The queen put a
hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “This is the king’s true heir. Shireen will
one day sit the Iron Throne and rule the Seven Kingdoms. She must be kept from
harm, and Eastwatch is where the attack will come. This Nightfort is the place
my husband has chosen for our seat, and there we shall abide. We
—oh!”
    An enormous shadow emerged from behind the shell of the Lord
Commander’s Tower. Princess Shireen gave a shriek, and three of the queen’s
knights gasped in harmony. Another swore.
“Seven save us,”
he
said, quite forgetting his new red god in his shock.
    “Don’t be afraid,” Jon told them. “There’s no harm in him,
Your Grace. This is Wun Wun.”
    “Wun Weg Wun Dar Wun.” The giant’s voice rumbled like a
boulder crashing down a mountainside. He sank to his knees before them. Even
kneeling, he loomed over them. “Kneel queen. Little queen.” Words that Leathers
had taught him, no doubt.
    Princess Shireen’s eyes went wide as dinner plates. “He’s a
giant
!
A real true giant, like from the stories. But why does he talk so funny?”
    “He only knows a few words of the Common Tongue as yet,”
said Jon. “In their own land, giants speak the Old Tongue.”
    “Can I touch him?”
    “Best not,” her mother warned. “Look at him. A filthy
creature.” The queen turned her frown on Jon. “Lord Snow, what is this bestial
creature doing on our side of the Wall?”
    “Wun Wun is a guest of the Night’s Watch, as you are.”
    The queen did not like that answer. Nor did her knights. Ser
Axell grimaced in disgust, Ser Brus gave a nervous titter, Ser Narbert said, “I
had been told all the giants were dead.”
    “Almost all.”
Ygritte wept for them
.
    “In the dark the dead are dancing.” Patchface shuffled his
feet in a grotesque dance step. “I know, I know, oh oh oh.” At Eastwatch
someone had sewn him a motley cloak of beaver pelts, sheepskins, and rabbit
fur. His hat sported antlers hung with bells and long brown flaps of squirrel
fur that hung down over his ears. Every step he took set him to ringing.
    Wun Wun gaped at him with fascination, but when the giant
reached for him the fool hopped back away, jingling. “Oh no, oh no, oh no.”
That brought Wun Wun lurching to his feet. The queen grabbed hold of Princess
Shireen and pulled her back, her knights reached for their swords, and
Patchface reeled away in alarm, lost his footing, and plopped down on his arse
in a snowdrift.
    Wun Wun began to laugh. A giant’s laughter could put to
shame a dragon’s roar. Patchface covered his ears, Princess Shireen pressed