⚜ Your false king is dead, bastard. He and all his host were smashed in seven days of battle. I have his magic sword. Tell his red whore. Your false king’s friends are dead. Their heads upon the walls of Winterfell. Come see them, bastard.
The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange, appearing and disappearing again, a shadow half- seen behind a fluttering curtain. Now he was a man, now a wolf, now a man again.
"May the Warrior grant him courage and protect him in this perilous times. May the Smith grant him strength that he might bear this heavy burden. And may the Crone, she that knows the fate of all men, show him the path he must walk and guide him through the dark places that lie ahead. In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Tommen of the House Baratheon First of His Name King of the Andals and the First Men and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Long may he reign!“
Jaime: “Where did you get this much Valyrian Steel?” Tywin: “From somone who no longer has need of it.” Jaime: “You’ve wanted one of these in the family for a long time.” Tywin: “And now we have two.” Jaime: “Two?” Tywin: “The original weapon was absurdly large. Plenty of steel for two swords.”