“Needle was Winterfell’s grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was thesummer snows, Old Nan’s stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow’s smile.”
When I was a girl, my brother told me it was made with one thousand swords from Aegon’s fallen enemies. What do one thousand swords look like in the mind of a little girl who can’t count to twenty? I imagined a mountain of swords too high to climb.