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Coronation

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Yara’s too still.

Once, Robb had rescued a drowning peasant, breathed into them, and pounded on the chest. Theon had been too contemptuous to pay attention to the explanation of why and where Robb learned this, but he thinks he remembers the movements enough-

“No.”

There was a time he’d have been arrogantly incredulous of Tyrion Lannister’s firm grip around his arm.

“While I certainly won’t be willingly subjecting myself to drowning anytime soon, we both know many do survive. Let her be worthy.”

 Spewing coughing fills the hill, and Queen Yara gasps out, “What is dead may never die.”