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Dancer was draped in bardings of snowy white wool emblazoned with the grey direwolf of House Stark, while Bran wore grey breeches and white doublet, his sleeves and collar trimmed with vair. Over his heart was his wolf's-head brooch of silver and polished jet. He would sooner have had Summer than a silver wolf on his breast, but Ser Rodrik had been unyielding.
小舞披著一身雪白的羊毛衣，衣上繡著史塔克家族的灰色冰原狼紋章；布蘭穿著灰馬褲，白上裝，袖子和領口鑲了松鼠皮。他的胸前別著白銀和錚亮黑玉制成的狼頭胸針。其實他本想帶上活生生的夏天，而非戴只銀狼，可惜羅德利克爵士不準。
The low stone steps balked Dancer only for a moment. When Bran urged her on, she took them easily. Beyond the wide oak-and-iron doors, eight long rows of trestle tables filled Winterfell's Great Hall, four on each side of the center aisle. Men crowded shoulder to shoulder on the benches. "Stark!" they called as Bran trotted past, rising to their feet. "Winterfell! Winterfell!"
起初，低矮的石階讓小舞躊躇不前，然而布蘭一加催促，它立刻輕松地越了過去。在橡木和鋼鐵制成的大門內，八列長桌占滿了臨冬城的大廳，一邊四列，中間空出走道。人們接踵磨肩地擠在長凳上。“史塔克萬歲！”布蘭疾跑而過，人們紛紛起立，高聲呼喊，“臨冬城萬歲！臨冬城萬歲！”
He was old enough to know that it was not truly him they shouted for—it was the harvest they cheered, it was Robb and his victories, it was his lord father and his grandfather and all the Starks going back eight thousand years. Still, it made him swell with pride. For so long as it took him to ride the length of that hall he forgot that he was broken. Yet when he reached the dais, with every eye upon him, Osha and Hodor undid his straps and buckles, lifted him off Dancer's back, and carried him to the high seat of his fathers.
他已經夠大，知道他們歡呼的對象并非自己——他們是在慶祝豐收，慶祝羅柏和他的節節勝利，他們祝福的是他的父親大人和他的祖父，祝福的是八千年來所有故去的史塔克。雖然如此，他仍舊感到十分驕傲。穿越大廳這段時間，足以使他忘記自己是個殘廢。最后他跑到高臺，在眾目睽睽之下，歐莎和阿多替他解開皮帶和環扣，將他抱下小舞，放到父親的高位上。
