The Dwarf and Wang Wang

"I..."

Devan opened his mouth. "I think that is your secret."

Melisandre's ruby-studded silver necklace seemed to sway gently with her breathing. She continued to stare at him, the corners of her lips curving slightly. "So?"

Her robe swept across the cold stone floor.

Faced with her questioning, Devan's not particularly sturdy chest rose and fell several times. Meeting her gaze, he said earnestly, "You can trust me. I will never betray you, Lady Melisandre."

With a faint smile, Melisandre's fiery red robe swept over the cold stone floor as she walked toward him with light steps.

She stroked Devan's cheek. "It will not be long, but I still must thank you, my loyal little attendant."

Her hand was soft and burning hot. Devan's face immediately flushed crimson, and he said nervously, "It is my duty. There is no need... no need... to thank me."

Then he placed a hand over his chest in salute, turned, and hurried away.

"Hey, mercenary, do we still have enough food?"

"Hard bread, hard cheese, salted cod, salted beef, and five bags of sweetwine to wash the salt from our mouths."

Beyond the Wall.

By the campfire, Tyrion wrapped himself tightly in a blanket. As Ser Bronn spoke beside him, tiny ice crystals seemed to drift from his nose and mouth.

Tyrion said miserably, "I never thought Wun Wun could eat so much!"

Bronn toyed with the Golden Nose in his hand, chuckled, and slipped it into his pocket.

All around them, ancient firs that seemed to pierce the clouds took on a bluish-gray hue in the twilight. Beneath the snowy crust, the humus had frozen into iron-gray lumps.

Whenever the wind swept past, the trunks let out low moans, and clumps of snow thudded down from the crowns.

Ser Bronn shifted