A/N

Chances are you'd have picked up on this anyway, but I'll specify that this is based on Rains of Castermere. Something to be sung rather than read, so to speak.

The Halls of Casterly

Behold a castle, with walls tall.

That overlooks the sea.

No lion flag, upon its mounts,

The fate of Casterly.

…

The Rock, once called, of house now dead.

Those of golden hair and mane.

So few, these days, approach this place,

Most little folk refrain.

…

And so it blows.

And so it blows.

The wind o'er Casterly.

With empty halls.

And empty walls.

That overlook the sea.

…

They say, there was, a little lord.

Who in old age returned home.

Went through the gate, entered this place,

But walked the halls alone.

…

Weighed by doubt, weighed by regret,

His victories but ash.

Stood, and listened, to the wind.

As on rock waves still crashed.

…

And so it blows.

And so it blows.

The wind o'er Casterly.

With empty halls.

And empty walls.

That overlook the sea.

…

His mane, now grey, his beard now long,

Only once did he return.

For rest, of days, for all but wine,

Touch and warmth he spurned.

…

The Rock, now dead, an empty shell,

Long gone is mane and gold.

Thus was, the fate, of Casterly,

A tale now been told.

…

And so it blows.

And so it blows.

The wind o'er Casterly.

With empty halls.

And empty walls.

That overlook the sea

…

And so it blows.

And so it blows.

The wind o'er Casterly.

With empty halls.

And empty walls.

That overlook the sea