Waste treatment and immobilization plant

Aeron & Oswell

Theon drew the hood of his cloak up against the spray, and looked for home.

…tall and gangling, with long white hair and a great hooked nose, with eyes shaded by a cowl [like a monk's cowl!]… (ACOK Theon V)

Tall and thin, with… a beak of a nose… [and] ropes of dried seaweed were braided through his waist-long black hair and untrimmed beard.

She studied the old man's lined windburnt face, hook nose, white hair, and huge knuckly hands. (ASOS Sansa VI)

Ironborn, he knew at a glance; lean and long-legged, with… wind-chafed skin, strong sure hands….

"You may dress an ironman in silks and velvets, teach him to read and write and give him books, instruct him in chivalry and courtesy and the mysteries of the Faith… but when you look into his eyes, the sea will still be there, cold and grey and cruel." (TWOIAF)

A memory prodded at Theon. In one of his rare curt letters, Lord Balon had written of his youngest brother going down in a storm, and turning holy when he washed up safe on shore. "Uncle Aeron?" he said doubtfully.

Oswell and Lothor splashed their way ashore, as did Littlefinger himself.

Drawn Up Hoods

Theon drew the hood of his cloak up against the spray, and looked for home.

Lothor and old Oswell rowed them ashore. Sansa huddled in the bow under her cloak with the hood drawn up against the wind….

The two old men waded out up to their thighs to lift Sansa from the boat so she would not get her skirts wet.

Gangplank → Gangling.

Without waiting for a reply [from Myraham's captain], he strode down the gangplank. "Innkeeper," he barked. "I require a horse".

Kneeling Servants

"Kneel."
The ground was all stones[!] and mud. "Uncle, I—"
"Kneel. Or are you too proud now, a lordling of the green lands come among us?"
Theon knelt. He had a purpose here, and might need Aeron's help to achieve it. A crown was worth a little mud and horseshit on his breeches, he supposed.
"Bow your head." Lifting the skin, his uncle pulled the cork and directed a thin stream of seawater down upon Theon's head. It drenched his hair and ran over his forehead into his eyes. Sheets washed down his cheeks, and a finger crept under his cloak and doublet and down his back, a cold rivulet along his spine. The salt made his eyes burn, until it was all he could do not to cry out. He could taste the ocean on his lips. "Let Theon your servant be born again from the sea, as you were," Aeron Greyjoy intoned. "Bless him with salt, bless him with stone, bless him with steel."

Lothor and old Oswell rowed them ashore. Sansa huddled in the bow under her cloak with the hood drawn up against the wind, wondering what awaited her. Servants emerged from the tower to meet them…. When they recognized Lord Petyr they knelt on the rocks.
[Petyr] led them up the strand over rocks slick with rotting seaweed. … Sansa had to step carefully; there were pellets [i.e. sheepshit] everywhere.

Blessings

"So silent, my lady?" said Petyr. "I was certain you would wish to give me your blessing. …"
"I . . . I pray you will have long years together, and many children, and be very happy in one another.

Theon searched for his uncle Euron's Silence.

Getting Wet & Staying Dry 1

They [Aeron and Theon] rode in a gloom of silence.
Lothor and old Oswell rowed them ashore.

The rower shipped the oars and helped Sansa to her feet. "Up now. Go on, girl, I got you." Sansa thanked him for his kindness, but received no answer but a grunt. It was much easier going up the rope ladder than it had been coming down the cliff. The oarsman Oswell followed close behind her… (ASOS Sansa V)

Getting Wet & Staying Dry 2

"My blood is stirred. And yours, I know … there's no wench half so lusty as one bastard born. Are you wet for me?"
"I'm a maiden," she protested.
"Truly? Oh, Alayne, Alayne, my fair maid, give me the gift of your innocence.

"He put a hand on her breast, and squeezed. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes. You wouldn't want them ripped, I know. Come, sweet lady, heed your heart—"

Sheets washed down his cheeks [which cheeks?], and a finger[!] crept under his cloak and doublet and down his back, a cold rivulet along his spine."

Sansa heard the soft sound of steel on leather. "Singer," a rough voice said, "best go, if you want to sing again." The light was dim, but she saw a faint glimmer of a blade.
The singer saw it too. "Find your own wench—" The knife flashed, and he cried out. "You cut me!"
"I'll do worse, if you don't go."
And quick as that, Marillion was gone. The other remained, looming over Sansa in the darkness. "Lord Petyr said watch out for you." It was Lothor Brune's voice, she realized.

Dagmer Cleftjaw → Lothor Brune

As the Myraham made her way landward, Theon paced the deck restlessly, scanning the shore. He had not thought to find Lord Balon himself at quayside, but surely his father would have sent someone to meet him. Sylas Sourmouth the steward, Lord Botley, perhaps even Dagmer Cleftjaw. It would be good to look on Dagmer's hideous old face again.

He smiled himself to show how it was done. It made for a hideous sight. Under a snowy white mane of hair, Dagmer Cleftjaw had the most gut-churning scar Theon had ever seen, the legacy of the longaxe that had near killed him as a boy. The blow had splintered his jaw, shattered his front teeth, and left him four lips where other men had but two. A shaggy beard covered his cheeks and neck, but the hair would not grow over the scar, so a shiny seam of puckered, twisted flesh divided his face like a crevasse through a snowfield "We could hear them singing," the old warrior said. "It was a good song, and they sang it bravely."
…Dagmer grinned more often and more broadly than Lord Balon ever had.
Ugly as it was, that smile brought back a hundred memories. Theon had seen it often as a boy, when he'd jumped a horse over a mossy wall, or flung an axe and split a target square. [More fond memories of Dagmer.]

He knew that would give Dagmer pause. A singer had made a song about the axe that cracked his jaw in half, and the old man loved to hear it. Whenever he was in his cups he would call for a reaving song, something loud and stormy that told of dead heroes and deeds of wild valor. (ACOK Theon III)

"You are to harry the Stony Shore, raiding the fishing villages and sinking any ships you chance to meet. … Aeron will accompany you, and Dagmer Cleftjaw."
…Theon felt as if he'd been slapped. He was being sent to do reaver's work, burning fishermen out of their hovels and raping their ugly daughters, and yet it seemed Lord Balon did not trust him sufficiently to do even that much. Bad enough to have to suffer the Damphair's scowls and chidings. With Dagmer Cleftjaw along as well, his command would be purely nominal. (ACOK Theon II)

Dagmer Cleftjaw stood by the high carved prow of his longship, Foamdrinker. Theon had assigned him the task of guarding the ships; otherwise men would have called it Dagmer's victory, not his. A more prickly man might have taken that for a slight, but the Cleftjaw had only laughed. (ACOK Theon III)

That Splintery Ladder Again & Lothor's Hand Up

The ladder to the forecastle was steep and splintery, so Sansa accepted a hand up from Lothor Brune. Ser Lothor, she had to remind herself; the man had been knighted for his valor in the Battle of the Blackwater. Though no proper knight would wear those patched brown breeches and scuffed boots, nor that cracked and water-stained leather jerkin. A square-faced stocky man with a squashed nose and a mat of nappy grey hair, Brune spoke seldom. He is stronger than he looks, though. She could tell by the ease with which he lifted her, as if she weighed nothing at all. …
She had seldom ventured out on deck herself. Her little cabin was dank and cold, but Sansa had been sick for most of the voyage . . . sick with terror, sick with fever, or seasick . . . she could keep nothing down, and even sleep came hard. Whenever she closed her eyes she saw Joffrey… dying….
…Even this close to shore, the rolling of the ship made her tummy queasy.…
[Petyr] put a sympathetic arm about her shoulders. "Are you quite well? You look so pale."
"It's only my tummy. The seasickness."

With his squashed nose, square jaw, and nap of woolly grey hair, Brune could not be called comely, but he was not ugly either. … Sober, he was a quiet man, but a strong one. (AFFC Alayne II)

• Where Theon goes below deck as he approaches Lordsport and thinks about Dagmer, whose jaw is (verbatim) "splintered", Sansa, with Brune's help, climbs up to the deck using a (verbatim) "splintered" ladder as she approaches the Drearfort.
  
• Where Theon spurns the 'hand up' Dagmer and his splintered jaw could have given him, "Sansa accept[s] a hand up from Lothor Brune" and climbs the "splintered" ladder.
  
• Where Theon think of the Cleftjaw, who has a "gut-churning scar", Sansa thinks about her literally churning guts — her upset "tummy".
  
• Where Theon thinks that Cleftjaw's "gut-churning scar" resulted from his being "near[ly] killed as a boy", Sansa's churning guts are related to the evident psychic scar she's suffered, which causes her to see a boy killed over and over again.
  
• Dagmer's "shattered" teeth and "splintered" jaw (and Dagmar being sent to "Torrhen's Square") → Brune's "squashed nose" and "square jaw"
  
• Where Dagmer is ironborn, and had his jaw "cracked… in half", Brune wears a "cracked and water-stained [as if from the sea]" jerkin.
  
• Dagmer's "snowy mane of white hair" → Brune's "mat of nappy grey hair"/"nap of woolly grey hair"
  
• Despite their 'old hair', Dagmer is "fierce" and "fearsome", Brune "strong".
  
• Where Dagmer's smile is "ugly" but nonetheless fills Theon with warm memories (defying its appearance), Brune, who "could not be called comely, but… was not ugly either", is "stronger than he looks".
  
• Where Dagmer "covered his cheeks and neck" with a beard but can't grow a 'proper' one due to his scar, which appears as a "seam", Brune doesn't look like a "proper knight" in his "patched… breeches" and "scuffed boots". (Note the sewing language — "seam" → "patched" — and the lexical similarity: "cheeks" → "breeches".)
  
• Both men seem to have a penchant for drink (per the implications of Sansa commenting on Brune's nature "when sober") and a foregrounded relationship with singers. (Where Dagmer loves singers and songs, Brune is in conflict with Marillion — although the deeds of "Lothor Apple-Eater" are likely sung of, like Dagmer's exploits.)