Why "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell" and why "Winter is Coming"

Potential Spoilers Below

The Wheel of Time: Finding the Horn of Valere

The Horn of Valere

In Eye of the World Moiraine sets out on a quest to find which of the three Two Rivers boys, Rand, Mat or Perrin, was the Dragon Reborn.

Moiraine

Perrin, Rand and Mat

After reaching the EOTW and killing 2 of the Forsaken the following takes place:

The Forsaken

Moiraine motioned for Loial to set the gold chest at her feet, and when he did, she opened it, revealing the horn. “The Horn of Valere,” she said, and Agelmar gasped. Rand almost thought the man would kneel.

Loial

Agelmar

“With that, Moiraine Sedai, it matters not how many Halfmen or Trollocs remain. With the heroes of old come back from the tomb, we will march to the Blasted Lands and level Shayol Ghul. ”

Halfman or Myrddraal

Along with the Horn of Valere they also find the Dragon Banner and a Broken Seal that held the Dark One’s Prison

Dragon Banner

Broken Seal

The Game of Thrones:  Jon finds the Horn of Winter?

Jon Snow is always finding things

The Horn of Winter???

“Aye, and long before them came the Horned Lord and the brother kings Gendel and Gorne, and in ancient days Joramun, who blew the Horn of Winter and woke giants from the earth. Each man of them broke his strength on the Wall, or was broken by the power of Winterfell on the far side . . . but the Night’s Watch is only a shadow of what we were, and who remains to oppose the wildlings besides us? The Lord of Winterfell is dead, and his heir has marched his strength south to fight the Lannisters. The wildlings may never again have such a chance as this. I knew Mance Rayder, Jon. He is an oathbreaker, yes . . . but he has eyes to see, and no man has ever dared to name him faintheart.”

Joramun

The Wall

Winterfell

Men of the Night's Watch

Wildlings

Lannister home and banner/motto

Mance Rayder

A quarter way around the Fist he chased the wolf before he lost him again. Finally he stopped to catch his breath amidst the scrub, thorns, and tumbled rocks at the base of the hill. Beyond the torchlight, the dark pressed close.

Fist of the First Men

A soft scrabbling noise made him turn. Jon moved toward the sound, stepping carefully among boulders and thornbushes. Behind a fallen tree, he came on Ghost again. The direwolf was digging furiously, kicking up dirt.

Ghost

“What have you found?” Jon lowered the torch, revealing a rounded mound of soft earth. A grave, he thought. But whose?

He knelt, jammed the torch into the ground beside him. The soil was loose, sandy. Jon pulled it out by the fistful. There were no stones, no roots. Whatever was here had been put here recently. Two feet down, his fingers touched cloth. He had been expecting a corpse, fearing a corpse, but this was something else. He pushed against the fabric and felt small, hard shapes beneath, unyielding. There was no smell, no sign of graveworms. Ghost backed off and sat on his haunches, watching.

Jon brushed the loose soil away to reveal a rounded bundle perhaps two feet across. He jammed his fingers down around the edges and worked it loose. When he pulled it free, whatever was inside shifted and clinked. Treasure, he thought, but the shapes were wrong to be coins, and the sound was wrong for metal.

A length of frayed rope bound the bundle together. Jon unsheathed his dagger and cut it, groped for the edges of the cloth, and pulled. The bundle turned, and its contents spilled out onto the ground, glittering dark and bright. He saw a dozen knives, leaf-shaped spearheads, numerous arrowheads. Jon picked up a dagger blade, featherlight and shiny black, hiltless. Torchlight ran along its edge, a thin orange line that spoke of razor sharpness. Dragonglass. What the maesters call obsidian. Had Ghost uncovered some ancient cache of the children of the forest, buried here for thousands of years? The Fist of the First Men was an old place, only . . .

Dragonglass dagger

Leaf: child of the forest

Beneath the dragonglass was an old warhorn, made from an auroch’s horn and banded in bronze. Jon shook the dirt from inside it, and a stream of arrowheads fell out. He let them fall, and pulled up a corner of the cloth the weapons had been wrapped in, rubbing it between his fingers. Good wool, thick, a double weave, damp but not rotted. It could not have been long in the ground. And it was dark. He seized a handful and pulled it close to the torch. Not dark. Black.

Even before Jon stood and shook it out, he knew what he had: the black cloak of a Sworn Brother of the Night’s Watch.

He had made a dagger for Grenn as well, and another for the Lord Commander. The warhorn he had given to Sam. On closer examination the horn had proved cracked, and even after he had cleaned all the dirt out, Jon had been unable to get any sound from it. The rim was chipped as well, but Sam liked old things, even worthless old things. “Make a drinking horn out of it,” Jon told him, “and every time you take a drink you’ll remember how you ranged beyond the Wall, all the way to the Fist of the First Men.” He gave Sam a spearhead and a dozen arrowheads as well, and passed the rest out among his other friends for luck.

Grenn

Lord Commander Mormont

Sam

The Wheel of Time:  The Search for the Horn of Valere begins

Even though they had already found the Horn of Valere they still go through the motions as if it hadn’t been found.  Along the way Rand confesses the following to Thom:

Rand leaned across the table toward him.

“Thom, you wanted to go to Illian, to see the Great Hunt set out, and be one of the first to make new stories about it, but you couldn't. What would you say if I told you you could still be a part of it? A big part?”

Loial stirred uneasily. “Rand, are you sure ... ?” Rand waved him to silence, his eyes on Thom.

Thom glanced at the Ogier and frowned. “That would depend on what part, and how. If you've reason to believe one of the Hunters is coming this way ... I suppose they could have left Illian already, but he'd be weeks reaching here if he rode straight on, and why would he? Is this one of the fellows who never went to Illian? He'll never make it into the stories without the blessing, whatever he does.”

“It doesn't matter if the Hunt has left Illian or not.” Rand heard Loial's breath catch. “Thom, we have the Horn of Valere.”

For a moment there was dead silence. Thom broke it with a great guffaw of laughter. “You two have the Horn? A shepherd and a beardless Ogier have the Horn of ...” He doubled over, pounding his knee. “The Horn of Valere!”

“But we do have it,” Loial said seriously.

Thom drew a deep breath. Small aftershocks of laughter still seemed to catch him unaware. “I don't know what you found, but I can take you to ten taverns where a fellow will tell you that he knows a man who knows the man who's already found the Horn, and he will tell you how it was found, too — as long as you buy his ale. I can take you to three men who will sell you the Horn, and swear their souls under the Light it's the real one and true. There is even a lord in the city has what he claims is the Horn locked up inside his manor. He says it's a treasure handed down in his House since the Breaking. I don't know if the Hunters will ever find the Horn, but they will hunt down ten thousand lies along the way.”

“Moiraine says it's the Horn,” Rand said.

Thom's mirth was cut short. “She does, does she? I thought you said she was not with you.”

“She isn't, Thom. I have not seen her since I left Fal Dara, in Shienar, and for a month before that she said no more than two words together to me.” He could not keep the bitterness out of his voice. And when she did talk, I wished she'd kept on ignoring me. I'll never dance to her tune again, the Light burn her and every other Aes Sedai. No. Not Egwene. Not Nynaeve. He was conscious of Thom watching him closely. “She isn't here, Thom. I do not know where she is, and I do not care.”

Egwene

Nynaeve

“Well, at least you have sense enough to keep it secret. If you hadn't, it would be all over the Foregate by now, and half a Cairhien would be lying in wait to take it away. Half the world.”

“Oh, we've kept it secret, Thom. And I have to bring it back to Fal Dara without Darkfriends or anyone else taking it away. That's story enough for you right there, isn't it? I could use a friend who knows the world. You've been everywhere; you know things I can't even imagine. Loial and Hurin know more than I do, but we're all three floundering in deep water.”

“Hurin ... ? No, don't tell me how. I do not want to know. ” The gleeman pushed back his chair and went to stare out of the window. “The Horn of Valere. That means the Last Battle is coming. Who will notice? Did you see the people laughing in the streets out there? Let the grain barges stop a week, and they won't laugh. Galldrian will think they've all become Aiel. The nobles all play the Game of Houses, scheming to get close to the King, scheming to gain more power than the King, scheming to pull down Galldrian and be the next King. Or Queen. They will think Tarmon Gai'don is only a ploy in the Game.” He turned away from the window. “I don't suppose you are talking about simply riding to Shienar and handing the Horn to — who? — the King? Why Shienar? The legends all tie the Horn to Illian.”

A gleeman

Galldrian

Aiel

The Game of Thrones:  The Search for the Horn of Winter begins

“They’re dogs and he’s a wolf,” said Jon. “They know he’s not their kind.” No more than I am yours. But he had his duty to be mindful of, the task Qhorin Halfhand had laid upon him as they shared that final fire—to play the part of turncloak, and find whatever it was that the wildlings had been seeking in the bleak cold wilderness of the Frostfangs. “Some power,” Qhorin had named it to the Old Bear, but he had died before learning what it was, or whether Mance Rayder had found it with his digging.

Qhorin Halfhand

Frostfangs

They’re not wearing skins, Jon realized. That’s hair. Shaggy pelts covered their bodies, thick below the waist, sparser above. The stink that came off them was choking, but perhaps that was the mammoths. And Joramun blew the Horn of Winter, and woke giants from the earth. He looked for great swords ten feet long, but saw only clubs. Most were just the limbs of dead trees, some still trailing shattered branches. A few had stone balls lashed to the ends to make colossal mauls. The song never says if the horn can put them back to sleep.

“So how did you come by your other names?” Jon asked. “Mance called you the Horn-Blower, didn’t he? Mead-king of Ruddy Hall, Husband to Bears, Father to Hosts?” It was the horn blowing he particularly wanted to hear about, but he dared not ask too plainly. And Joramun blew the Horn of Winter, and woke giants from the earth. Is that where they had come from, them and their mammoths? Had Mance Rayder found the Horn of Joramun, and given it to Tormund Thunderfist to blow?

Tormund Thunderfist

“It’s made of ice,” Jon pointed out.

“You know nothing, Jon Snow. This wall is made o’ blood.”

Nor had it drunk its fill. By sunset, two of the Thenns had fallen from the ladder to their deaths, but they were the last. It was near midnight before Jon reached the top. The stars were out again, and Ygritte was trembling from the climb. “I almost fell,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “Twice. Thrice. The Wall was trying t’ shake me off, I could feel it.” One of the tears broke free and trickled slowly down her cheek.

Ygritte

“The worst is behind us.” Jon tried to sound confident. “Don’t be frightened.” He tried to put an arm around her.

Ygritte slammed the heel of her hand into his chest, so hard it stung even through his layers of wool, mail, and boiled leather. “I wasn’t  frightened. You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

“Why are you crying, then?”

“Not for fear!” She kicked savagely at the ice beneath her with a heel, chopping out a chunk. “I’m crying because we never found the Horn of Winter. We opened half a hundred graves and let all those shades loose in the world, and never found the Horn of Joramun to bring this cold thing down!”

Maester Aemon paused, washcloth in hand.

Maester Aemon

“The Horn of Winter is an ancient legend. Does the King-beyond-the-Wall truly believe that such a thing exists?”

“They all do,” said Jon. “Ygritte said they opened a hundred graves . . . graves of kings and heroes, all over the valley of the Milkwater, but they never . . .”

“Who is Ygritte?” Donal Noye asked pointedly.

“A woman of the free folk.” How could he explain Ygritte to them? She’s warm and smart and funny and she can kiss a man or slit his throat. “She’s with Styr, but she’s not . . . she’s young, only a girl, in truth, wild, but she . . .”  She killed an old man for building a fire. His tongue felt thick and clumsy. The milk of the poppy was clouding his wits. “I broke my vows with her. I never meant to, but . . .” It was wrong. Wrong to love her, wrong to leave

her . ..  “I wasn’t strong enough. The Halfhand commanded me, ride with them, watch, I must not balk, I . . .” His head felt as if it were packed with wet wool.

Styr

Jon swallowed his anger. “I abandoned no one. I left the Fist with Qhorin Halfhand to scout the Skirling Pass. I joined the wildlings under orders. The Halfhand feared that Mance might have found the Horn of Winter . . .”

“The Horn of Winter?” Ser Alliser chuckled.

Ser Alliser

“Were you commanded to count their snarks as well, Lord Snow?”

“No, but I counted their giants as best I could.”

A Giant

Jon kept his face as still as ice. Foul enough to slay a man in his own tent under truce. Must I murder him in front of his wife as their child is being born? He closed the fingers of his sword hand. Mance was not wearing armor, but his own sword was sheathed on his left hip. And there were other weapons in the tent, daggers and dirks, a bow and a quiver of arrows, a bronze-headed spear lying beside that big black . . .

. . . horn.

Jon sucked in his breath.

A warhorn, a bloody great warhorn.

“Yes,” Mance said. “The Horn of Winter, that Joramun once blew to wake giants from the earth.”

The horn was huge, eight feet along the curve and so wide at the mouth that he could have put his arm inside up to the elbow. If this came from an aurochs, it was the biggest that ever lived. At first he thought the bands around it were bronze, but when he moved closer he realized they were gold. Old gold, more brown than yellow, and graven with runes.

“Ygritte said you never found the horn.”

“Did you think only crows could lie? I liked you well enough, for a bastard . . . but I never trusted you. A man needs to earn my trust.”

“If I sound the Horn of Winter, the Wall will fall. Or so the songs would have me believe. There are those among my people who want nothing more . . .”

“But once the Wall is fallen,” Dalla said, “what will stop the Others?”

Dalla

An Other

He could carry the message back to Castle Black and tell them of the horn, but if he left Mance still alive Lord Janos and Ser Alliser would seize on that as proof that he was a turncloak. A thousand thoughts flickered through Jon’s head. If I can destroy the horn, smash it here and now . . . but before he could begin to think that through, he heard the low moan of some other horn, made faint by the tent’s hide walls. Mance heard it too.

Castle Black

Janos Slynt

Frowning, he went to the door. Jon followed.

Jon took a step toward the tent, thinking of the Horn of Winter, but the shadowcat blocked him, tail lashing. The beast’s nostrils flared, and slaver ran from his curved front teeth. He smells my fear. He missed Ghost more than ever then. The two wolves were behind him, growling.

A shadowcat

Jon had done more than well himself, to hear Grenn tell it. Yet even capturing the Horn of Winter and a wildling prince had not been enough for Ser Alliser Thorne and his friends, who still named him turncloak.

“It’s only a few who believe that,” Sam assured him. “Ser Alliser and his friends. Most of the brothers know better. King Stannis knows as well, I’ll wager. You brought him the Horn of Winter and captured Mance Rayder’s son.”

King Stannis

“Mance knows the haunted forest better than any ranger,” Jon had told King Stannis, in his final effort to convince His Grace that the King-Beyond-the-Wall would be of more use to them alive than dead. “He knows Tormund Giantsbane. He has fought the Others. And he had the Horn of Joramun and did not blow it. He did not bring down the Wall when he could have.”

“The Horn of Joramun?” Melisandre said. “No. Call it the Horn of Darkness. If the Wall falls, night falls as well, the long night that never ends. It must not happen, will not happen! The Lord of Light has seen his children in their peril and sent a champion to them, Azor Ahai reborn.” She swept a hand toward Stannis, and the great ruby at her throat pulsed with light.

Melisandre

Azor Ahai

“FREE FOLK!” cried Melisandre. “Behold the fate of those who choose the darkness!”

The Horn of Joramun burst into flame.

The horn crashed amongst the logs and leaves and kindling. Within three heartbeats the whole pit was aflame. 

The red woman’s robes of deep-dyed scarlet swirled about her, and her coppery hair made a halo round her face. Tall yellow flames danced from her fingertips like claws. “FREE FOLK! Your false gods cannot help you. Your false horn did not save you. Your false king brought you only death, despair, defeat … but here stands the true king. BEHOLD HIS GLORY!”

Stannis Baratheon drew Lightbringer.

Lightbringer.  I think not.

“You need a bigger gate,” Tormund complained to Jon with a sour look up at the sky, where a few clouds had blown in. “Too bloody slow this way. Like sucking the Milkwater through a reed. Har. Would that I had the Horn of Joramun. I’d give it a nice toot and we’d climb through the rubble.”

“Melisandre burned the Horn of Joramun.”

“Did she?” Tormund slapped his thigh and hooted. “She burned that fine big horn, aye. A bloody sin, I call it. A thousand years old, that was. We found it in a giant’s grave, and no man o’ us had ever seen a horn so big. That must have been why Mance got the notion to tell you it were Joramun’s. He wanted you crows to think he had it in his power to blow your bloody Wall down about your knees. But we never found the true horn, not for all our digging. If we had, every kneeler in your Seven Kingdoms would have chunks o’ ice to cool his wine all summer.”

Jon turned in his saddle, frowning. And Joramun blew the Horn of Winter and woke giants from the earth. That huge horn with its bands of old gold, incised with ancient runes … had Mance Rayder lied to him, or was Tormund lying now? If Mance’s horn was just a feint, where is the true horn?

The Wheel of Time:  Heroes of the Horn

The known heroes of the Horn of Valere:

Amaresu

Artur Hawkwing

Birgitte Silverbow

Blaes of Matuchin

Buad of Albhain

Calian the Chooser

Gaidal Cain

Jain Charin

Mikel of Pure Heart

Otarin

Paedrig the Peacemaker

Rogosh Eagle-eye

Shivan the Hunter

Hend the Striker

Plus the rest of the hundred-odd heroes

The following is said after the Horn of Valere is found of the heroes:

“With that, Moiraine Sedai, it matters not how many Halfmen or Trollocs remain. With the heroes of old come back from the tomb, we will march to the Blasted Lands and level Shayol Ghul. ”

The Game of Thrones:  Heroes of the Horn???

In TWOT 14 known heroes are mentioned.  Is there any place within ASOIAF that could be a clue to the identity of the “heroes and/or tombs?”

Well when Bran, comes up from the  crypts below Winterfell with Rickon, Hodor, Osha, Meera   and Jojen he mentions 14 old Kings of Winter:

Bran, Hodor, Rickon, Osha, Jojen and Meera

Crypts below Winterfell

Torrhen Stark, the King Who Knelt

Edwyn the Spring King

Theon Stark, the Hungry Wolf

Brandon the Burner

Brandon the Shipwright

Jorah

Jonos

Brandon the Bad

Walton the Moon King

Edderion the Bridegroom

Eyron

Benjen the Sweet

Benjen the Bitter

King Edrick Snowbeard

And in my opinion the seventy-nine sentinels who were entombed in the Wall as mentioned in one of Old Nan’s stories.

The Seventy-Nine Sentinels

Old Nan

We learn in TWOT that new heroes can be added to the horn.  With that said we could see Ned Stark, Lyanna Stark or Ygritte again.  Couldn’t you see her arrive just in time to get Jon out of a sticky situation and saying “You know nothing Jon Snow”?

Ned Stark

Lyanna Stark

The Wheel of Time:  Who do the Heroes of the Horn of Valere follow?

A figure rode through the mists at the front of the heroes. Tall and imperious, with a nose like a beak, Artur Hawkwing carried Justice, his sword, on his shoulder as he rode. Though the rest of the hundred-odd heroes followed Hawkwing, one broke off in a streak of mist, galloping away. Mat didn’t get a good look at the rider. Who had it been, and where was he going so quickly?

Mat pulled his hat on tighter, nudging Pips forward to meet the ancient king. I suppose I’ll know which side summoned him, Mat thought,if he tries to kill me. Mat lifted the ashandarei across his saddle. Could he fight Artur Hawkwing? Light, could anyone beat one of the heroes of the Horn?

Mat holding his ashandarei

“Hello, Hawkwing,” Mat called.

“Gambler,” Hawkwing replied. “Do take better care of what has been allotted you. Almost, I worried we would not be summoned for this fight.” Mat let out a relaxing breath. “Bloody ashes, Hawkwing! You needn’t have drawn it out like that, you bloody goat-kisser. So you fight for us?

Of course we fight for the Light,” Hawkwing said. “We would never fight for the Shadow.”

“But I was told—” Mat began.

“You were told wrong,” Hawkwing said.

“Besides,” Hend said, laughing. “If the other side had been able to summon us, you’d be dead by now!”

“I did die,” Mat said, rubbing at the scar on his neck. “Apparently that tree claimed me.”

“Not the tree, Gambler,” Hawkwing said.

“Another moment, one that you cannot remember. It is fitting, as Lews Therin did save your life both times.”

Lews Therin

“Remember him,” Amaresu snapped. “I have seen you murmur that you fear his madness, but all the while you forget that every breath you breathe—every step you take—comes at his forbearance. Your life is a gift from the Dragon Reborn, Gambler. Twice over.”

Blood and bloody ashes. Even dead women treated him the way Nynaeve did. Where did they learn it? Were there secret lessons?

Hawkwing nodded toward something nearby. Rand’s banner; Dannil still held it aloft. “We arrive here to gather at the banner. We can fight for you because of it, Gambler, and because the Dragon leads you—though he does it from afar. It is enough.”

The Game of Thrones:  Who might the Heroes of the Horn of Winter follow?

Well since the Heroes of the Horn in TWOT follow the Dragon and the dragon banner who might the Heroes of the Horn of Winter follow and why?  Since the dragon banner was found with the horn I would say they would rally around the black cloak of a member of Night’s Watch as one was with the horn Jon found.  Though in this case I believe it can be any black clock as long as a brother wears it. 

“Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night’s Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.”

It says they wake the sleepers but who do the sleepers follow?  I would say since they are led by the old Kings of Winter they would follow the Stark in Winterfell.  Thus why it is always said that “There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.”  This could also be why the Stark words are “Winter is Coming.”  In their darkest hour the “Old Kings of Winter” come to lead the way.  So did Joramun actually blow the horn of winter the first time around?  We know it is said that he worked with the Stark in Winterfell when it was said he blew the horn of winter.  I would say no since he wasn’t a man of the Night’s Watch but it could be enough that it can be blown in the presence of a man of the Night’s Watch.  In TWOT the inscription in the Old Tongue translates to "The Grave is no bar to my call."  The prophecy of the Horn says "Let whosoever sounds me think not of glory, but only of salvation."  I believe Sam will decipher the truth as he has the horn and he is most likely digging through the Citadel archives and will stumble upon the truth.

It was said that Arthur Hawkwing carried his sword Justice into battle as a Hero of the Horn.  Ever since I read that I wondered if they just shortened the name of the Stark valyrian steel sword in ASOIAF and just called it “Ice”.

Summation:

In TWOT the Horn of Valere is found and later in the following book you start hearing about the search for the horn.  Groups called the Hunters of the Horn start springing up in hopes of finding it and glory.  In ASOIAF Jon finds what I believe to be the Horn of Winter but doesn’t know it.  He blows it but he thinks it broken.  He ends up giving it to Sam.  We then start hearing about Mance Rayder and his people digging up graves in their search for the horn.  In TWOT the Horn of Valere was placed in safe keeping for the time that the Dragon Reborn would find it.  I believe the same thing about the Horn of Winter. 

See my blog: Jon Snow finds the Horn of Joramun. So what does it mean?

The battle in TWOT ends with the horn being blown by Olver and the heroes of the horn rally around the  Dragon banner and the Dragon Reborn to fight off the darkness.  If ASOIAF follows suit we could see the same thing and the Kings of Winter rise from the crypts to rally behind the men of the Night’s Watch and follow the Stark in Winterfell (man or woman) to save the day. This secret died because Ned wasn't heir to Winterfell when his father Lord Rickard Stark and brother Brandon were taken captive and killed.  It may be nice to see Ned Stark return as a hero of the horn wielding Ice the sword he wielded in life in defense of not only the realm but for their entire world.

Olver

Ned wielding Ice

Comments encouraged.  Love to hear the idea’s of others.  Most believe that since I present my idea’s as “fact like” I’m not open to change my viewpoints which is far from the truth.  I simply look at the information presented and go from there.  If you can shine a light on another way of thinking that opens the door to debate.