Winter is coming
And the white ravens fly.
A long night rises
And a cold king of ice
Leads winds of darkness against the realms of Men.
But where winter rises
He who was born amidst tears and blood,
A son of Ice and Fire,
His life a promise
Of a brother of virtue,
And a brother himself he became
Of nameless men in black.
A watcher, a shield, a sword in the darkness,
The light that brings the dawn
And dusk his brothers brought him,
Until he resurged amidst salt and dust
To sit again in these halls of home.
He is the snow that was shown in the fire,
The morning he will call forth!
The North remembers and knows no king
But the one whose name is not Stark.
Him, the Bastard.
Him, the White Wolf.
Him – The King in the North!