Lyanna died in a room that smelled of blood and roses. A fever had taken her strength. Her voice had been faint as a whisper. There was fear in her eyes, while she called for Ned to promise her something. When her brother gave his word, the fear went out of her eyes. She smiled, and her fingers clutched his own in a tight grip. They were still holding each other as she gave up her hold on life. Rose petals slipped from her palm, dead and black.
Margaery smiled confidently. “It’s brave of you to warn me, but you need not fear. I shall have the finest knight in the Seven Kingdoms protecting me night and day, as Prince Aemon protected Naerys. So our little lion had best behave, hadn’t he?”
"I was one of those weird children that just couldn’t talk to people, so I kind of had to make myself be not like that because I knew it was going to hinder me."