AGoT 38: Tyrion V

Tyrion is sitting in a sky cell (a jail cell without all the bars because who needs bars when you're on the side of a cliff in a room with a slantedfloor and will fall to your death if you leave) in the Eyrie. Now a prisoner of Lysa Arryn, he hasn't been fed in days. Lysa's stupid and sadistic jailer, Mord, brings a plate of food to Tyrion. 

Mord: Here. Food.

Tyrion: I hope this is lobster or something. What? Just beans. Whatever.

Mord holds the plate to Tyrion and when Tyrion reaches for it, he takes it away. 

Mord: Hahaha. You no want food? Come get! Just reach fot! Haha.

Tyrion: Yes, very funny. I am small and thus have small arms and you can easily pull the food away. Hilarious.

Mord throws the plate of beans off the cliff and laughs. He kicks Tyrion as he leaves.

Tyrion: I hate that guy. I'm so hungry and tired. But I can't go to sleep. I'm so afraid that I'll roll over and fall out of the sky cell to my death.

So instead of going to sleep, he just thinks about very recently occurring events. Because for some reason George RR Martin is unable to actually tell any chapter in chronological order. Instead, he starts every damn chapter in the middle of the story, and then has the character think back to the recent events which got them there. Which is super annoying. 

Tyrion recalls being brought forward to Lysa Arryn who declares that he is guilty of killing her husband. 

Tyrion: Oh shit, you're pinning that on me too? I thought I was here because I was supposed to have tried to kill Bran. Now you're just adding people that I killed to the charges? This is some BS. Man, I must spend all my day plotting to kill people. When do I have time to do anything else? My brother Jaime will not be happy about this. He's going to come up here and kick some Eyrie ass. 

Lysa: Is that a threat? 

Tyrion: No bitch, it's a PROMISE. 

Robert Arryn: *cough*cough* MOON DOOR! MOON DOOR! Throw him out the moon door! 

Needless to say, this did not make Lysa happy, and Tyrion was put into a sky cell. 

Tyrion: See? What couldn't we have started the story there and gone through chronologically instead of starting at a later point and just thinking about that? Anyway, I hope my family is smart enough to have sent out riders by now. By now I assume they've figured out that I'm here and not in Winterfell. Even though my dad hates me, this is still an insult to the Lannisters that he'll avenge.  And let's just hope that my dumb sister Cersei the queen is smart enough to see the way out of this. She'll convince the King that he should be the one who judges me. Even that tight ass "honorable" Ned Stark wouldn't dare object to that. And the Starks have no proof. Because I'm, you know, INNOCENT. Still, I wonder if one of my siblings is guilty of killing Jon Arryn and sending a hitman to take out Bran. And if so... why have I been made a pawn?

Seeing that narrating his plight to himself is getting him nowhere, Tyrion decides to take action. 

Tyrion: Hey you, stupid guard! You wanna get rich?

Mord: Imp shut mouth!

Mord slaps Tyrion with a leather strap.

Tyrion: Ow! You asshole. Look, I'm a Lannister. We're all rich as hell. We have so much gold. Send a message to Lysa and you'll have all the gold you want.

Mord: No. Dwarf try to trick Mord. Mord too smart for that.

Mord then eats his own boogers. 

Tyrion: Seriously, just send a message to Lysa that I'm willing to confess my crimes and you'll get a bag of gold. No trick! I'll even write a contract for the gold down on paper and everything.

Mord: Hrm. Mord illiterate and think writing is magic. Yes, you write magic that give Mord gold.

Tyrion writes out a contract to give Mord some gold and sure enough, stupid Mord delivers.  Ser Vardis Egen shows up later to help escort Tyrion up to Lysa.

Instead of just finding her, he finds a hall full of all the lordlings of the Vale. Lysa arrogantly wanted everyone there to hear Tyrion's confession. Even Bronn and Marmillion the singer are there. But that's EXACTLY what Tyrion counted on. 

Lysa: So Imp, confess to all your crimes.

Tyrion: Okay, here it is... I hope you're all ready for this shit I'm about to drop.  I am a small man but my sins are large and beyond counting. I drink. I visit whores. I gamble. I wish my own father and sister were dead. I speak ill of members of the royal court. I vandalized one of the walls of the Red Keep by spray painting a cock on the side of it. I once spit chewing gum on the ground in Singapore. I discharged a firearm within city limits. I jaywalk frequently. I once hunted a deer but deer season had ended the week before. I drove a car with a suspended license. When I was a kid I committed petty theft when I stole a bunch of packets of baseball cards from a Walmart. I cheated on all of the standardized tests I ever had to take in school by having a smart kid tap the correct answers to me in Morse code with his pencil. I once assaulted a member of the City Watch while he was asleep on the job by throwing a bucket of pee on him and running away before he could see who did it. This one time at bandcamp I--

Cat: --Uhm, no Tyrion. You're just here to confess to the murder of Jon Arryn and attempted murder of Brandon Stark.

Tyrion: Oh. Those things? Well I can't confess to those things because I'm innocent of them.

Lysa: HOW DARE YOU WASTE OUR TIME! You said you were here to confess to those crimes, and here you are mocking us.

Tyrion: I'm not mocking you and I never said I was confessing to THOSE crimes. Just to the crimes I've actually committed.

Lysa: You think I will let this contempt stand? I order you to be taken to a sky cell with an even steeper floor to await your trial where my son, my precious little baby Lord Robert Arryn will find you guilty.

Tyrion: Oh... so that' s how justice works here in the Vale, huh? That whiny little kid was shouting earlier about wanting to see me fly. I've been found guilty before seeing a trial. I get put in a small, steep jail cell where I could fall to my death at any time.  Well fuck all that, you ignoble hypocrites. I demand a trial... BY COMBAT!

Everyone: *gasp*

After the initial shock of Tyrion demanding to have his fate determined by a fight to the death, all the knights of the Vale begin to volunteer for the fight. 

Guy: Me! I'll fight him!

Other Guy: No, I'd like that honor to easily beat a small man with little battle experience!

Yet Another Guy: I also would like do do this, and I understand that I don't necessarily fight an Imp. I could also fight someone standing in for him. Yet he is here all alone and thus I think it's highly unlikely that he'd be able to find a stand-in.

And about seven or eight more clamor for the "honor" of fighting an easily-beatable, injured, starved dwarf. 

Lysa, who really wanted an unfair trial where her stupid sick son just found him guilty, isn't happy about this. But she realizes the fact that she invited all the residents of the Eyrie to see this confession has kind of put her in a corner. 

Lysa: Fine, whatever. Good luck with all that, little man. You can have your trial by combat.

Tyrion: And to fight for me as my champion, I nominate my brother - Jaime Lannister!

Suddenly, everyone who volunteered previously...

Guy: Uhh... I just remembered I had a thing. I can't do it.

Other Guy: Me too. I remember I have to take my daughter to her ballet recital whenever that trial is.

Yet Another Guy: WHAT? The trial isn't even scheduled yet so how can you know that it's at the same time as your daughter's ballet recital? And you don't even have a daughter! Those guys are liars and don't have a legitimate excuse to back out like me. My excuse is... ahh... uh... I just developed cancer. Like right now. In-between when I said I wanted to fight two minutes ago and right now. You might not have noticed, but when Lysa and Tyrion were talking... a Maester diagnosed me. And he said "no fighting in trails by combat."

Lysa: It matters not... my champion shall be our finest knight, Ser Vardis Egen! And Imp, your request for Jaime Lannister is denied. You can't just request to have someone fight for you that is hundreds of miles away. It has to be someone here, now.

Ser Vardis: What? No way, I don't want to fight the dwarf. There is no honor in killing a weak and small foe. To slaughter a defenseless man would be shameful.

Lysa: Nah, you're doing it. Because I say so.

Tyrion: Marillion, remember what you saw here today when you write this song! Remember to tell the part where I asked for someone to stand in for me, and Lysa denied it. Remember that an injured, hobbling and unfed dwarf you just had an ear cut off in battles against barbarians on the road through the Vale was sent up against the Vale's finest knight. Remember to sing that this trial was a farce!

Marillion: Wait, you had an ear cut off in a battle? How are we not mentioning that until this chapter?  How can the mutilation of a main character happen in a book but it happens in an un-narrated scene between chapters... and even that not be referenced until chapters later?

Tyrion: I dunno.

Lysa: Enough of your blabbering, Imp! Your trail shall happen. I suggest you name a champion to fight for you that is actually here or else you will need to fight yourself.

Tyrion: Well... anyone?

Lysa starts laughing, knowing that absolutely nobody present would volunteer to risk their life on behalf of Tyrion Lannister. 

Bronn: I'll do it.

Lysa: WHAT THE FUCK?! 

AGoT 37: Bran V

Bran: Oh boy! I finally get to ride around on this sweet saddle that Tyrion Lannister designed for me. That guy is the best! I know my family will definitely treat him well for all he's done for me now.

And so Bran heads out on horse, Dancer. At first it's really scary and it feels like he's going to fall off. It's hard to ride without use of his legs. But then he gets the hang of it and it's all good.  But still way too dangerous to head out alone. Ya know-- with Wildlings and highwaymen and whatnot. So along for the ride with him are his brother Robb, Theon Greyjoy, Maester Luwin, and the Master of Horse, Joseth. Oh, and also Summer and Grey Wind because they follow Bran and Robb around everywhere.

Robb: Hahaha! Come here, Doggo! I love you so much! Yeah, lick my face, doggo! We're the best of friends.

Grey Wind: *lick*lick* [Translation: *lick*lick*]

They ride along and pass a small village with an ale house. Theon then notices a girk, Kyra.

Theon: OH HEY, KYRA! KYRA! You a spinner, girl! Hahaha.

Kyra blushes and hides her face.

Theon: Oh man. She's all shy out in public. But in the bedroom she squirms like a weasel, if you know what I mean. This one time I--

Robb: --Dude, Bran is right there and he's a little kid. Could you tell some other story?

Bran: Forget stories. I want to burn some rubber! Whatever rubber is! See you scrubs later!

Bran whips Dancer and he speeds off. Robb runs out too and the two are now far off in the godswood by themselves.

Bran: Oh man, this so so much fun! What did the narrator say earlier about it being way too dangerous to head out alone?

Robb: I can't remember, I'm sure it's fine that we left everyone else behind in the dust.

Bran: Hey Robb, what's up? I can see you're pretending to smile, but I can tell something is bothering you.

Robb: Yeah, you're right. We got some ravens the last few days. The first was about Benjen. He's still missing. The next was from mom. She took Tyrion hostage on the Kingsroad.

Bran: Whaaaaat? Nice Mr. Tyrion who built me this saddle?

But Bran sort of suspected this was up. He knew there was trouble with the Lannisters. Something in the back of his head was bothering him about the Lannisters. Something involving kissing or something. But he couldn't remember quite what it was. Weird.

Robb: Well, that's not even the worst of the ravens.

Bran: Yeah, the worst of the Ravens is Ray Rice. He beat that girl in the elevator.

Robb: No... I mean yes... he's awful. But, I mean... no, Bran. No. This is serious. We got a raven from King's Landing. It said Jory, Heward and Wyl have all been murdered by the Kingslayer.

Bran: OH NO! Not Jory! Also... who the hell are Heward and Wyl?

Robb shrugs. Nobody knows who these people were. RIP.

Bran: Poor Jory. He used to chase me around when I was climbing up on the castle walls. Oh man, those were good times. I miss walking and climbing.

Robb: Well, the letter's not over yet. Father's been hurt too. His horse fell on him and he has a broken leg.

Bran: WHAT? This is all terrible news! This is the worst! I can't possibly think of any way anything could possible get more worse than it is right now.

And then Bran and Robb are surrounded by a bunch of Wildlings or bandits or something.

Wildings or Something: Hi, we're a bunch of bandits. We're all mixed up. Some of us abandoned the Watch. Some of us are just Wildlings. Some of us are just poor people that need to steal to get by.

Osha: I'm here too. I'm also with them but I'm a woman and I'll be a featured character so I'm worth pointing out.

Wildlings, Etc.: Yeah, so we're here to rob you.

Robb: You can't Robb me. I'm already Robb.

Wildlings: We don't get it.

Robb: My name. It's "Robb." It's kind of a homonym joke. Rob and Robb. Oh, never mind.

Wildlings:  Give us all your riches or we'll kill you. And by "or" we mean "and."

Bran: We'll never surrender to you! I'm Brandon Stark and you should all flee!

Wildlings: Wow, only a Stark would actually be stupid enough to declare that he's a Stark in front of a bunch of Wildlings, so he must be. We should probably cut this boy's cock off and stuff it in his mouth.

Bran: Whatever. I won't even feel it.

Wildlings: What? Really?

Bran: I mean the stuffing in mouth part I'd feel, but not the cutting off part.

One of the Wildings walks up and cuts Bran's leg. He feels nothing.

Osha: That's hardcore, kid.

Robb: Now, surrender Wildlings!

Wildlings: Oh yeah? You and what army is going to make us?

Robb: Uhhh... this army?

Rob whistles and the two direwolves appear. Robb attacks along with the direwolves. The direwolves start eating their necks and everything.

Wildlings: AGHHH!

But one of the Wildlings, Stiv, is still alive. I mean Osha's alive too but we're not talking about her now. Stiv grabs Bran and puts a knife to the boy's throat.

Stiv: Okay, anything else and we'll see if this kid also don't feel his neck being cut.

But suddenly, an arrow bursts through Stiv's chest and he falls down into a stream. The rest of the crew that was riding with them earlier had caught up.

Theon: Hahaha! Oh my god, I'm such a good shot. Aced it!

Robb: DUDE! You could have hit my brother!

Theon: Yeah, I could have. But I didn't.

Robb:  Jon was right, you're such a dick. And where were you guys anyway?! You were supposed to be riding with us and protecting us?

Theon: Uh, well you guys ran out far ahead of us. It's really your fault. You know Luwin's old ass can't go that fast. And then when he finally caught up we saw this turkey. And so I was like, "Hey! Let's go turkey hunting!" It was pretty sweet.

Robb: I am so damn angry with you know.

Luwin: Hrm, two of these bandits appear to be wearing clothing of the Night's Watch. Traitors who abandoned the Watch!

Robb: Oath breakers! Let's cut their heads off and send them back to the wall as a message. And then leave the bodies here to rot and get eaten by animals.

Osha: Hey, uhhhh... everyone. I'm still alive here. What's up with me? How about you just spare my life and I'll serve you all?

Robb: We have no purpose for oath breakers!

Theon: Yeah, let's feed her to the Wolves.

Osha: Uhm, excuse me Lord Dumbass and Ser Dumbasser, I ain't no oath breaker. I'm an ACTUAL Wildling. Besides, did you forget that women can't join the Watch?

Luwin: I say we question her. She might have much useful information.

Osha: YES! YES! That! Lots of useful information I have it!

And so they tie her up to take her back to Winterfell.

Osha: Tied up, huh? You Starks are into some kinky shit. 

AGoT 36: Daenerys IV

Dany and her khalasar pass through the Horse Gate leading into Vaes Dothrak, the giant sort-of capitol of the Dothraki. I say "sort of" because they're a nomadic people and so the place is empty most of the time. No people. No buildings. No walls. Really only a bunch of old widows live here permanently.  Everyone else is generally out doing that whole pillage and rape thing. 

She looks back at her brother, who has now been allowed to ride a horse again rather than walk. She thinks back on all the hilarious insults all the Dothraki had for her brother over the ride here. Some of them were pretty viciously awesome.

Jorah: Oh man... that shit is hilarious! They're calling him the "Cart King" now because he asked to be taken in that cart. Having to be pulled along in a cart is like a HUGE insult in this culture. Even one-legged, elderly, pregnant blind women don't ride in carts. I have got to tell him how much he's being humiliated by everyone. It will be so hilarious to see the look on his face.

Dany: Please don't, Jorah. I know you hate my brother and that would indeed be hilarious. But let him live in ignorance. Like he has been doing his whole life, pretty much.

"King" Shitstain himself then rides up. 

Viserys: HEY GUYS! What are you talking about? The Dragon is here now! The Dragon wants to know what's up! The Dragon really hates this place. The Dragon thinks this city is stupid. The Dragon can't understand the language that these barbarians are talking in because they're so primitive. When will these idiot savages give The Dragon his crown and army that the Dragon deserves?

Dany: I agree, brother. My husband promised to give you an army and you shouldn't have to wait. With 10,000 riders you could sweep through the Seven Kingdoms.

Jorah: Pfft. Viserys's incompetent ass couldn't sweep a stable with 10,000 brooms.

Viserys: What was that? The Dragon can't hear so well on account of all the dust in The Dragon's ears from walking through the dirt for all those days.

Jorah: I SAID--

Dany: --SHHH!

Dany and Jorah pull ahead and out of Viserys' ear range. 

Dany: Man, stop fucking with him. Didn't you swear yourself to him? You're, like, a really untrustworthy person if you swear yourself to him and then immediately start undermining him and mocking him. It's like I don't know that I should trust you. Like you'd try to betray me or something.

Jorah: *whistling* What? Don't know what you're talking about. I'm totally trustworthy. Look, I'm just saying that someone OTHER than Viserys could totally win. Drogo has 40,000 men. That's what your brother Rhaegar had at the Battle of the Trident. But those men weren't bad ass like these riders. I used to think they were simple barbarians when I first got here, but now I see the truth. Nobody can stop them. But they'll never follow this dickweed. Which is a shame because then I could have revenge on all those people in Westeros. King Robert, Stannis, Tywin and the worst of them all... Ned Stark! That monster who banished me!

Dany: Riiiiiight. Banished you FOR BEING INVOLVED IN THE SLAVE TRADE. Sounds like a real monster.

Jorah: Hey, slavery makes the world go around. Look at this city. See how every building looks different? That's because the Dothraki don't build. But their slaves build houses for themselves. And every house is a different style from slaves from different places.

Cohollo, one of Khal Drogo’s bloodriders, then rides up. 

Cohollo: Hey Dany, Khal Drogo is going up on the mountain to like make a sacrifice or some shit. No women allowed. Bros only. So you'll have to chill back here, okay?

Dany: Yeah, sure. Whatever. I'm pregnant and tired anyway.

Dany then thinks about how Drogo's bloodriders are REALLY like his brothers - his family. They are supposed to share everything with each other, except for their horses. Technically they're supposed to even share Dany but Drogo doesn't play by those old fashioned rules.  They're such bros that when Drogo dies his bloodriders are supposed to die with him. The only exception would be if he's murdered or something... then they get to live long enough to kill people in order to avenge Drogo before they have to kill themselves. 

Dany: No knights in King's Landing are honorable like that. Even the Kingsguard can't be trusted. Jaime Lannister was on the Kingsguard and he murdered the king! That's messed up. And then there's Barristan Selmy too, who quickly joined the side of the usurper after my father was murdered by Jaime. I swear, if I ever run into that Selmy guy I'd never trust him or allow him into my confidence.

Dany is taken to rest for the night, but before she goes to bed she tells Irri and Doreah to go fetch her brother and some food. She has a surprise gift for Viserys that she's sure he'll just looooveee!!!

Viserys soon arrives, but is pulling Doreah by the arm. 

Viserys: HOW DARE THE DRAGON BE TREATED LIKE THIS! This feeble savage woman dares to summon and order The Dragon around?

Dany: No, sorry. There must be an understanding. Something lost in translation. There was no summons. I simply asked for you to come! I wanted to give you dinner and present you this new gift!

Dany hands him a new set of clothes that she sewed herself. It's in the Dothraki style, so hopefully the Dothraki will come to treat him well rather than mock him. 

Viserys: What are these filthy savage rags you dare to give The Dragon? The Dragon will not wipe his ass with such filthy rags! How dare you try to make The Dragon look like a brown savage. Next you will want The Dragon to grow a beard and tie braids in it.

Dany: Nah, you don't get a beard with braids. Braids are for winners who actually fight in battles and kick ass. You're just a fucking little whiny bitch who complains and speaks in third person all the time.

Viserys: HOW DARE YOU!

He grabs her by the arm and begins to twist it. Afraid and feeling like the little abused girl again, she takes a big metal dragon medallion that was supposed to be a part of Viserys's new outfit and slams it against his forehead. It cuts open and he starts bleeding from the gash in his head like Ric Flair. He also has a backwards dragon pattern indented on his head. 

Dany: And don't even THINK about touching me or Drogo will kill you.

Viserys: THE DRAGON WILL NOT FORGET THIS! JUST WAIT UNTIL YOU ARE BACK IN THE DRAGON'S KINGDOM! 

AGoT 35: Eddard IX

Ned finds Littlefinger in Chataya's brothel, which is (not surprisingly) run by someone named "Chataya." 

Littlefinger: Haha, so you having a good time here, Ned? Hey! Since the Hand of the King speaks with the mouth of the king, writes with the hand of the king, hears with the ears of the king, does that also mean that he fucks with the di--

*SLAP*

Ned: Really tired of your shit, Baelish.  I'm not the Hand any more and you're gross. I'm done here anyway. Bye. Come on, men. To the horses!

Ned rounds up all his Stark swords and they head out on the rainy road. Littlefinger rides with them. 

As they ride, Ned thinks about his sister, Lyanna. She complained about being betrothed to Robert since he never kept one bed. Ned assured her that once Robert was married he would settle down. But Lyanna said that you couldn't change the nature of a man.  The issue was especially relevant now because the reason why he visited the brothel was to see a young bastard of the king. FLASHBACK to like three minutes ago  time! 

Ned: So, this little kid here your bastard from sleeping with the King?  

Unnamed Ho: Yes, I named her Barra.  Don't worry about my name though. 

Ned: Yeah. I can tell she's his. She looks like him. Has his black hair and everything.  In fact, the girl looks a bit like I remember what Mya Stone looked like back in the day. That was Robert's first kid. Wonder what she's up to these days. 

Ned writes this all down in his CSI notebook.  It's starting to get hella full. 

Unnamed Ho: Get it? Barra? As in Baratheon? Because it's the King's kid! 

Ned: YES, I GET IT. Geez, does anyone here at all try to be subtle about anything?  

Unnamed Ho: Robert loves me so much! We had the best time together! He said he'd be back to see me again and again. He said he'd check up on Barra all the time too because he loves me and our little baby together sooooo much.  He hasn't come though. He must be super duper busy with King stuff. But I know when he gets the time he'll visit. He'll probably even divorce his wife and marry me because we're in love.  

Ned: Jesus, you are stupid.  

Unnamed Ho: Who is "Jesus?"  

Ned: Uhhh... I meant to say, "By the seven hells!" or something like that.

Back to the riding now...

Ned: So, what else do you know about Robert's many bastards, Baelish?

Littlefinger: Nobody even knows how many there are. Everyone knows a few. Edric Storm being the most famous. It's said Robert had a pair of twins with one the serving maids at Casterly Rock that Cersei had killed.

Ned: Man, I don't know about that. Cersei is a petty bitch... but petty enough to go around murdering all of Robert's bastards? Seems unlikely.

Littlefinger: *shrugs*

Ned: So... now I know what Jon Arryn was investigating before he died. All of Robert's bastards. But why? WHY?

Littlefinger: I don't know. Maybe Robert asked him to look into them all.

Ned: No, there must be something more than that. He was killed for looking into all these bastards!

Littlefinger: You really think he was killed because he was investigating the king's bastards? Wow... imagine that! He was killed to prevent the shocking headline news investigation that revealed that the king had bastard children? Next up, the King's Landing Times-Picayune will also release hard hitting and shocking stories like "Sun rises in East" and "Sky is Blue." Hahahaha, COME ON, NED! Everybody knew the king was sleeping around and having kids. That's not a story. Nobody would kill Jon Arryn about that.

Ned: Then WHY? WHY?!

Ned thinks about bastards some more. He wonders if Rhaegar would visit a brothel to have bastards. He figures probably not. 

But as he ponders that, suddenly the riding group is surrounded by 20 Lannister soldiers, led by Ser Jamie Lannister himmself. 

Jaime: Where is my brother, asshole?

Ned: The Imp? Cat arrested him for his crimes.

Jaime: That's not really an answer to the "where" question though.

Jaime unsheathes his sword. 

Littlefinger: You know what? I think I left the oven on. I need to get out of here. But I'll call the City Watch or something. Bye!

Baelish's horse gallops away at lightning speed.

Stark's men draw their swords, but Ned only has with him Jory and some dudes named Heward and Wyl. Don't get too attached. 

Ned: Four on twenty? Kind of a bitch move if you fight us. Aren't you supposed to be honorable or something?

Jaime: Not really.

Ned: If you attack me, I have orders for Cat to cut Tyrion's throat.

Jaime: Hrm. Good point. So I won't attack YOU. I'll just do this.

Jaime snaps his fingers and his men attack. Heward and Wyl are instantly killed. Ned and Jory then start fighting back. But it's no good. Jory is cut down too...

Jory Cassel: AGHHH! I'm dying! And just as I was risking the chance of becoming an interesting character!

And Ned's horse falls on top of him. Ned can feel his leg crack under him and passes out in pain. 

He wakes up some minutes later, pulling himself through the rain and mud to Jory's body. 

Ned: Noooooo!!!!!! JORY!

Littlefinger and the City Watch arrive to find Ned cradling Jory's corpse. 

Littlefinger: Quickly, get this man back to the Tower of the Hand!

And so they pick up Ned and take him away. He fades in and out of consciousness all the way there. He opens his eyes to see himself in his bed, with Grand Maester Pycelle looking after him. 

Pycelle: Now Ned, we'll get you milk of the poppy to make you feel better. And how about some nice sweet milk too? Yes, delicious sweet milk that I'll force down your throat because I know you'll enjoy it because it's so good.

Ned: AGHH! NO MORE FUCKING DISGUSTING SWEET MILK!

But then the opium kicks in and he goes out cold. 

AGoT 34: Catelyn VI

Cat Stark and her retinue that contains the prisoner Tyrion Lannister approach the Bloody Gate, a pass across the mountain road that leads into the Vale of Arryn.  As they near, Ser Donnel Waynwood approaches.

Donnel: Lady Stark, you should have sent word before coming here! The path is most treacherous.

Cat: You think you need to tell me that? Six men have already died getting us here. Those first three in the battle and three more since then in others in battles and from festering wounds. Needless to say, if you were getting used to the characters of  Lharys, Chiggen and Morrec... you can forget about them now.

Now only Cat, Ser Rodrik, Bronn, Marillion, Ser Willis Wode and Tyrion remain alive. And Rodrick's not in great condition either from injuries in battle. 

Donnel: Indeed, since they leard of Lord Arryn's death, these clans around the Vale have grown bolder and attack more. Your crazy ass sister isn't helping any by ordering all the Knights of the Vale to stay put and not fight them.

Cat looks back at Tyrion, knowing it's really the Lannisters that Lysa fears. But she sees Tyrion's smug, confident face and again questions his guilt. And she's angry as hell that this Bronn guy seems to have become all buddy-buddy with Tyrion. They were supported to be his captors... not his best friends! Fucking sellswords, man.

Cat: Donnel, send for Maester Colemon to treat Ser Rodrick. He is much in need of some medical care.

Donnel: Nah, can't do that either. Lady Lysa won't let Colemon leave the Eyrie, on account of her little sickly boy Robert being such a weak-ass.  At best I can send you a Septon.

Cat: Oh yeah, great. A septon. Maybe we can just fucking pray Rodrick's wounds away. That makes sense.

They finally reach the Bloody Gate and see the head man in charge - Knight of the Gate, Ser Brynden "Blackish" Tully. He just happens to be Cat's uncle.

Blackfish: Halt, who goes there?

Cat: Oh shit, you don't even recognized your own niece? You know... the one who you raised like your own daughter, given that my real dad was a pretty worthless father? I mean you were even kind of a father figure to Littlefinger.

The Blackfish lifts up the visor on his helmet.

Blackfish: Damn Cat, that's rough. Sorry. It's hard to see in this damn thing. Welcome to the Vale. Long time, no see. Bitch, you can't write letters or nothing?

Cat: Great to see you too.

Blackfish: Now let's get going. See the Eyrie all the way over there? Yeah, you won't even get to the foot of the mountain by nightfall.

They continue on their way, riding. But it's still a long way.

Rodrick: Dudes, I'm wiped. I feel like I'm about to die. I can't keep going.

Cat: Okay, everyone else stay here and get some rest for the night. Everyone else except for Tyrion, who has to of course come along with me so that we can kill him.

Marillion: Can I come too? If I'm going to write an awesome song about this whole thing, I need to see it all the way through.

Cat: Yeah, I guess. But how are you even still alive? Six competent, trained soldiers were killed in the way here and somehow your prancing, singing butt makes it through fine?

Marillion: I mean I wouldn't say "fine." I have a bunch of broken ribs.

Bronn: I want to come too.

Cat: Shit, I was kind of hoping of getting rid of you now that you and Tyrion are, like, best friends, but I guess if I'm letting a singer come along I don't have any good reason to not let you.

And so they keep going, along with the Blackfish.

Blackfish: Cat, you know how me and your dad hate each other, right? Still, he must be warned. If the Lannisters march north, they're going to come right for Riverrun.

Cat: Yeah, I know. So what's the mood like here? Things seem like they've gone to shit. Especially since they gave the Arryn title of Warden of the East to Jamie Fucking Lannister.

Blackfish: Oh, no doubt everyone here is PISSED. We all thing Lord Arryn was murdered. Lysa has told everyone to call little Robert Arryn the "TRUE Warden of the East," but everyone knows that means absolutely nothing. Plus that boy is the sickliest damn kid I've ever seen. He cries when his dolls are taken away. He's not even strong enough to sit up in his father's seat. Lysa treats him like a baby. She REALLY does. You'll see what I mean.  And she's gone pretty much loco herself. She's paranoid about the Lannisters. And here you go bringing a Lannister right to her doorstep.

Cat: Yeah, as a PRISONER. So that we can execute him.

Blackfish: A prisoner, huh? He doesn't look like one. He's not in chains. In fact, he's been given an axe and looks like he's chilling with that sellsword like they own this place.

Cat: Hey look, don't blame me for this shit. Lysa started this whole damn thing by sending the letter to me accusing the Lannisters of murdering her husband. You can drop this shit on her.

They eventually reach the Gates of the Moon, at the base of the mountains that will eventually lead them up to the mountain fortress of the Eyrie.

Tyrion: Uhh... so how do we get up?

Blackfish: Well, there are two ways. You either engage in a long, dangerous and tedious ride up the mountains riding multiple mules which you have to change over at various rest points because horses aren't able to climb these steep cliffs and even the mules aren't strong enough for the whole trip. The whole time you'll be in peril with the constant threat of death looming. Hundreds have died on this path. Maybe thousands. It's exhausting. It takes hours and hours and hours. Sometimes days. If it seems like it's impossible that's because it's supposed to be. It was specifically designed to prevent any army from being able to ever impregnate it.

Bronn: Hahaha, I'll impregnate that bit--

Blackfish: --Shut up.

Tyrion: Okay, so what is option two?

Blackfish: Option two is that we've built this winch structure. You get it a basket and it brings you up super fast and safe. It's how we bring all our supplies and food up. You know, like turnips and shit. Everybody loves eating turnips.

Tyrion: Well then let's obviously take option one. My father would never respect me if I told him that I rode up with the turnips.

Bronn: Wait... really? You're shitting us, right? Option one? No! Let's do the option two thing.

Tyrion: No, no. We couldn't possibly.

Bronn: Your father already hates you and doesn't respect you. This doesn't make any sense.

And so they go option one. Because reasons. They go on for a while until night falls and they reach this guy...

Lord Nestor Royce: Oh hey there everyone, it's me, another one of those Royce guys. Cat, you're allowed to keep going up tonight but everyone else has to stay here.

Blackfish: What? No! We all need to rest for the right. Without a full moon it's perilous to journey at night.

Nestor: Nah, it will be okay. We have the finest guide who will lead Cat the rest of the way up - this girl called Mya Stone.

Mya: Hi there! It will be my honor to take you up, Lady Stark. I've done it a thousand times.

Cat: Stone? Like the last name they give to bastard children in the Vale? Like "Sand" in Dorne and "Rivers" in the Riverlands? That means you remind me of Jon Snow and therefore I already hate you and resent you for no reason, despite the fact that all you want to do is help me up safely and protect me.

Mya: Odd that you'd mention all that. Speaking of mentioning odd things, I'm specifically the bastard daughter of King Robert. I mean I'm his eldest child and I'm from before he was king, but still. Pretty impressive, huh?

Cat: Hrm, and your hair is coal black, huh?

Mya: Yes. It is. My hair is black. Very black just like my father Robert. Robert Baratheon, the King of Westeros who has many other bastard children with black hair.

Cat: Why are we talking about this again?

Mya: Why are we talking about what? Oh! You mean why are we talking about how I am Robert's daughter and my hair is black.

Cat: Yes, I am asking why it is so important to the narrative to point out that your hair is black.

Mya shrugs.

Mya: Anyway, let's get up this mountain.

They get there. Stuff happens along the way. Cat things she's super strong and can deal with it all, but eventually she starts freaking out. But Mya helps her to the top despite Cat being sort of a dick to her.

Cat: Wow, it's actually pretty empty up here. Isn't this place suppose to support 500 people?

Lysa: Oh hey sister! Since  Ser Vardis Egen and Maester Colemon are standing around,  I want to say that It's great seeing you!

Cat: Wow, you got pale and fat.

Ser Vardis Egen and Maester Colemon leave. The two are now along. 

Lysa: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU COME HERE?! IT'S NOT GREAT SEEING YOU AT ALL!

Cat: What the hell are you snapping at me for?

Lysa: You brought that Lannister with you! Now we're all in danger! My poor little baby Robert is in danger?

Cat: Baby? Isn't he six? And you're the one who sent me the letter about the Lannisters. You said they killed your husband. This is on you.

Lysa: Yeah, that was supposed to be a WARNING. When I send you a letter that says the Lannisters killed my husband, it didn't conclude with, "So please kidnap one of them and bring them to my front door so that a war can start and their troops can march on us and threaten the life of my beautiful baby Robert." If I send you a warning that cobras bite people and kill them are you going to BRING me a cobra? Don't be so stupid.

Robert, hearing all the talking, comes out. He hold a doll in his hand. 

Robert Arryn: Hey! Everyone is talking about me *cough*cough*... What's happening?

Cat: Ohmygod, that kid looks like he could die at any minute.

Robert: Mommy! Mommy! Milk!

Lysa: Oh, here you go my sweet little baby!

Lysa whips em' out and has Robert suckle at her bosom.

Cat: What the HELL? He's six! SIX! That's almost a grown person by standards of these books and at what age they are depicted having their first sexual experiences. This is so messed up. Blackfish was right, you're loco.

Robert: Why is that lady here, mommy?

Lysa: Oh, that's your aunt. And she's here because she brought a bad man here.

Robert: Oh, a bad man! Let's make him fly!

Lysa: Yes, yeeeesssss. Maybe that's just what we'll do. If by "fly" you mean throw him out of a door at the top of this mountain castle.

Robert: Oh, I thought it was some hatch in the floor type of thing.

Lysa: No, in the books it's an actual door. 

AGoT 33: Eddard VIII

We begin in media res, yet again...

Ned: What? So you want to kill this little girl?

Robert: Of course I do, she's a damn Targaryen! They must all die!

Ned: But she's a little girl on another continent! Her kid isn't even born yet. She might miscarry or it could die in infancy. Or it could be a girl! Girls can't rule. How crazy would that be? Besides, the woman's army of Dothraki don't cross water, so they are no threat.

Renly: *yawn* It was wrong to even let the girl live this long. I agree with the others, let's kill her. Being merciful to her was a mistake.

Ned: Mercy is never a mistake! Remember the Battle of the Trident? Barristan Selmy here fought on the "wrong" side, but we let him live. This girl Daenerys is 14 years old. If we go around killing 14 year old girls -- then do we really even deserve to rule? Isn't that kind of shit exactly why we killed the Mad King in the first place? I can't believe that the man who once fearlessly fought Rhaegar Targaryen in battle is now afraid of the shadow of the unborn baby of a little girl a on a continent far away.

Robert: Oh, that's fucking it, Ned. You know we used to be bros, so I let you have some leeway. But now you're being a dick. The Targaryens must be wiped out. Let's put it to a vote. Everyone on this Council who is a giant pussy that wants the girl to live, raise your hand.

Ned and Barristan raise there hands.

Robert: Okay, now everyone who is cool, doesn't want to be executed, and wants to kill the girl... raise your hand.

Everyone else raises their hands. It's a LOT more people. 

Robert: Well, I think that's settled. Now we talk the method of execution. Does anyone have some hilarious ACME anvil we can drop on her head or something?

Renly: Perhaps our spy Jorah Mormont may be of use in carrying out this assassination. That dude wants a pardon like crazy.

Ned: WHAT?! I was the one who banished him in the first place. HE SOLD SLAVES.

Varys: A fine suggestion, Renly. But I think Mormont knows what the Dothraki will do to him if they find out he is involved.  Let's make it more subtle. Let's kill her with poison like the Tears of Lys. It will look like a natural death.

Pycelle: Huh? What? Sorry, I just fell asleep and woke up when I heard someone mention the Tears of Lys. This way it makes me look super interested in that poison, as if I have something to hide about it. Which is just bullshit to throw off the reader.

Robert: No poison! That is a coward's weapon!

Ned: Interesting you accusing others of cowardice. Here you are ordering a little girl to die and you won't even do it yourself. In the North we roll hard and the person who passes the sentence is also the executioner. *pounds chest* In the North, we are honorable. I'm not participating in this shit any more. I'm done.

Robert: You know, I can't believe that shit which you just said TO MY FACE in front of all these people here. Me. The King. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Protector of the Realm. You are the Hand of the King, which means you will do what the King says or I will find another Hand who will.

Ned: Great! Request granted.

Ned grabs his Hand of the King badge and unpins it from his shirt. He acts like he's going to put it in Robert's hand but then drops that shit on the floor like a mic and walks out. 

Robert: OH SHIT. OH SHIT. We are fucking done, professionally. If I see you again I will put your head on a spike. And I'm not kidding about that. It won't be some reused prop of a George W Bush head on a spike. It will be yours.

As Ned walks out, he hears them still negotiating over how to kill the little girl. 

Pycelle: Let's hire those Faceless Men from Braavos to do it. They can really get a job done.

Littlefinger: The hell with that! You know how much those guys cost? You could get an army of sellswords for half the price.

Ned finally gets back to the Tower of the Hand and summons Vayon Poole. 

Ned: Vayon, get all our shit together so that we can head back to Winterfell. I'm not sticking around this damn town anymore. Robert says he's going to cut my head off over a little argument. I can only imagine what he'll do when he finds out that my wife has kidnapped his wife's brother.  Which Yoren told me about, by the way. That happened in-between chapters and is one of those things he told me after I kicked Arya out.

Vayon: Very well, ser.

Ned: Man, I'll be glad to be out of here and back home with my sons. Although I imagine this Kingdom will fall apart without me. Or stupid-ass Robert will just sell it all to the Lannisters. And that's not to mention the murder of Jon Arryn. I wonder if Robert WAS INVOLVED after all. And in trying to kill my son too with this dagger. I would have never thought so before. But he's willing to execute that little girl. Don't care though... not anymore. Now I only care about the best way to get home. Kingsroad? Take a ship?

There is a knock at the door and guess who busts in. 

Ned: Oh, please PLEASE PLEASE don't be Littlef--

Littlefinger: --HEYYYY NED, it's me!

Ned: Damnit. What do you want, Baelish?

Littlefinger: Just giving you an update. I managed to get the king to agree to putting a bounty out on the Targaryen girl rather than hiring the Faceless Men.

Ned: Don't care. I'm not the Hand anymore. I said I wanted no part in this.

Littlefinger: Don't you see? I was doing you a favor! I'm really on your side. But my way I make the King seem like I was on his side. I don't think that an innocent girl should be killed. If we had hired the Faceless Men she'd definitely die. Those guys NEVER fail. But idiot sellswords? Those guys are incompetent and they'll never get the job done with all those Dothraki protecting her. Oh, she'll die sure enough.. of old age!!!

Ned: Whatever. You want a cookie or something? Pat on the back? A sloppy BJ? You want me to applaud you or thank you or tell you know clever you are? You're just a wheel-dealing bitch who tries to have it both ways. You ACTUALLY want me to believe that you're trying to defend that girl? That's such bullshit. I've had enough politics. I'm getting out of this town and I'm doing it right now.

Littlefinger: Oh, I suggest you stay at least one more night. Tonight I'd like to take you out to a brothel.

Ned: Dammit Littlefinger, how many times do I tell you I don't want scabies? I love my wife and have no desire for it to burn when I pee.

Littlefinger: No, my dear Ned. This is a very particular brothel. In fact, it's the one you and Jory Cassel have been so incompetently looking for. 

AGoT 32: Arya III

Arya is being a total badass ninja, doing all the stuff that Syrio taught her.  Her ultimate lesson: catching a cat. Oh, she can catch cats easily now. It took a while to gain this skill. Even fat cats used to me a problem for her. But now... oh, now there is only one cat who still alludes her... this one asshole cat in King's Landing that is totally uncatchable. They say it's old as sin and twice as mean. It once even jumped onto Lord Tywin's table and stole his food and scratched up his hands.

Now Arya has finally chased the cat down and trapped it in the corner of an alley. It's too bad that she had been chasing it around for so long that now she has NO CLUE where the hell she actually is.

Arya: HAHA, GOTCHA!!!

She grabs it and starts celebrating. She is now the cat queen and ruler of all the cats. Which is something her dad warned her about becoming after all those times she said boys were gross and that she'd never marry.

But her victory is short-lived, as she suddenly hears some people talking close-by.

Princess Myrcella: What is that ragged boy doing with that cat?

Prince Tommen: Yeah, definitely a boy. Like me! Durrrr.

Guard: Hey you! Peasant, get out of here!

Septa: Yes, peasants like you aren't allowed in this part of the castle. What are you doing here?

But Arya is too scared to respond. Myrcella and Tommen will certainly recognize her if she speaks up. They think she's a boy because she's hiding her face and is wearing rags.

Septa: Answer me, boy! Guards! Bring him here!

But Arya says "nope" to that (metaphorically, she's still not talking) and runs away. She knocks Tommen down in her escape. She's swift enough to catch cats now, so running away from stupid guards in armor is no problem. She parkours all over the place and eventually winds up hiding inside of this dark tunnel.

She crawls inside deeper and deeper and winds up in a cellar. She tells herself that she'll count to 10,000 and then leave again. They'll have definitely given up by then!

She only gets to 87 when her eyes adjust to the darkness and she suddenly sees a giant dragon skull emerge in front of her.

Arya: HOLY SHIT, that is scary!

She runs around more, panicking and freaking out. Then she remembers her training. She must be calm and see without her eyes. She heads down another hallway with her eyes closes, feeling the wall. Until suddenly she hears some voices and opens her eyes to see a flickering light. She listens as they come closer.

Guy 1: Oh man, that Ned Stark guy.

Guy 2: Yeah... what is the Hand going to do when he finds out the truth?

Guy 1: I don't know. He's not the type to forgive anyone coming after his son. Soon the wolf and the lion will be at war. It's going to be crazy.

Guy 2: A war would do no good! We are not ready yet!

Arya hides and gets a look at them as they come near. One of them looks sort of familiar. The other she knows she's never seen before. He has a foreign accent. And for the sake of you reading this, I'll just go ahead and tell you that they are Varys and Illyrio Mopatis because how the hell are you supposed to remember who these two are after the introduction of seven million different characters?

Varys: Well, the khal needs to hurry up and get his army over here. Because there are new players in this game. Stannis and Lysa Arryn have both fled and are probably building up their power. And Renly is plotting for Robert to remarry his own fiance, Margary Tyrell, in the hopes of replacing Cersei. He keeps going around saying how much she looks like Lyanna Stark even though she doesn't. And that's not to mention Littlefinger. Who knows what the hell that dude is up to. But who I worry about the most is Ned. He has the book and he knows about  the bastard. Soon he will figure it all out.

Illyrio: Meh, If one Hand can die... so can another.

Varys: And Ned's wife has gone and kidnapped Tyrion. Lord Twyin and Jaime will not react kindly to this. Even with my skill I cannot prevent outright war for much longer. I need more birds to whisper to me. Perhaps 50 more.

Illyrio: Wow, 50? That's a lot. And they all have to have their tongues cut out and learn sign language or writing because "whispering" is a euphemism. That's pretty hardcore. Aren't people supposed to sympathize with your character? You're asking for me to find 50 educated boys and cut their tongues out.

Varys: Yes, I'm a pretty messed up person in the books, although I seem nice enough in the show.

Arya slowly follows them for a while but eventually loses them. She stumbles around in the darkness for a long time after and eventually comes out the end of a stinky sewer. She looks out and it's nighttime. The Red Keep is miles away.

She walks back to the Keep and tries to gain entry.

Arya: Lemme in, I'm Arya Stark. The daughter of the Hand.

Gold Cloak: Yeah, yeah. And I'm Lady Dianna. Get lost, kiddo.

Arya: I want to get in!

Gold Cloak: And I want a free pass to doggystyle Queen Cersei every Wednesday morning and twice on Thursdays. We don't all get our wishes.

Arya: Ask Jory Cassel or Vayon Poole. They'll tell you. What will happen if you DON'T let me in and I am Arya? Then tomorrow my dad will hear about it. Then you know what happens next? You'll probably lose your jobs or get your heads bashed in. That's what. So you might as well go ahead.

Gold Cloak: Fuuuuuuuuuuuck, I hate you girl.

Eventually, she's let in and brought up to her dad.

Ned: What the HELL, Arya? We were worried sick about you! And you look awful. You smell even worse though. You know you're not allowed to go beyond the gates!

Arya: I didn't! I mean, I sort of did but I didn't know I was. I got lost in the dungeons! After chasing the cat that would make me the cat lady queen. And then the dungeons turned to tunnels, but I couldn't go back because the monsters there. And there were these two guys down there and they were talking about killing you. They said the wolf and the lion would eat each other and that if one hand could die, so could another. I think one of them was a wizard.

Ned: Did Syrio give you some LSD or something?

Arya: I'm not making this up, dad! I swear! They were going to kill you.

Ned: Surrreeeeee. The wizards were going to kill me in the dungeons with the monsters. Riiiiiight, Arya.  What you saw were mummers. You know, actors and mimes and crazy circus folk. They were probably in town for the tournament. Don't worry yourself with any of that.

Arya: They weren't mummers, I swear!

Ned: This has gone on long enough. Look at these scratches all over you. I'm going to have a stern talking to Syrio tomorrow.

And then, there is a knock at the door.

Yoren: Hey yo, it's Yoren from Castle Black! I have some news, but I need to discuss it with you in private.

Ned opens the door and lets him in.

Ned: Okay Arya, Desmond here will get you cleaned up and take you to bed.

Arya: What?! No! Desmond is the smart one! He's not even dumb enough to let me escape from him so I can lean against your door and listen to everything.

Ned: Don't worry, my POV chapter is next. The readers will get the gist of things.

Desmond: Come on now, Arya. Let's get you out of here.

Arya: No! I want to know why this guy from the Night's Watch is here! Are Jon and Uncle Benjen okay?

Yoren: Uhhhhh... let me answer that question simply by saying that Jon is okay.

But Ned slams the door in her face. 

Arya: Desmond, promise me you won't let them kill my dad!

Desmond: Sure, that's easy. There are like 50 Stark guards here. No way is anyone going to hurt your dad. No way. Besides, every Stark solider was as good as ten southern soldiers.

That reassures Arya. After all... how could Desmond possibly be wrong about something like that?

AGoT 31: Tyrion IV

Tyrion watches his injured horse get slaughtered for food by a sell sword named Chiggen.

Tyrion: Oh man, why did you have to do that? My brother Jamie gave me that horse! I don't want to eat horse. Especially not my own horse.

Bronn, one of the Sellswords: You know the Dothraki think that horse is actually the best tasting meat.

Tyrion: Wait... who the hell are you? Bronn? Have you been introduced yet? Is this one of those confusing chapters when we start in media res? I hate those! I'm just going to flash back to the beginning so that I can catch up with the narrative in chronological order...

Back at the Inn at the Crossroads, a dozen swords surround Tyrion's neck. Tyrion's guard, Jyck, begins to pull his sword out but Tyrion nods at him to put it away. They're far outnumbered.  Cat starts to show off the wounds on her hand.  

Cat: See these cuts? They're from the knife you used to try to cut my boy's neck! I fought that assassin off!  Well now I'll get my justice when I take you to Winterfell. 

Tyrion: Well, I'm totally innocent. I want everyone to know that! And by the way, anyone here who is a witness will get a handsome reward from my father if they say what they saw here today.

Rodrick: Nobody do that! 

Cat: Oh, nobody here will talk. They're all loyal to me. They won't tell anyone that we're going to Winterfell. Yes, Winterfell is indeed where I am going. For justice. At Winterfell. So for everyone out there taking notes, we are going to Winterfell next. Of the four directions we could head here at the crossroads, the direction we choose will be North.

Tyrion: Geez, they get the point.  

Yoren: Dude, I'm just in the Night's Watch. I'm neutral and was only escorting you. Good luck with all that, Tyrion. 

Cat: Now, I need help and recruits to get this prisoner back to Winterfell, which is the place that I am taking him. Who is with me? 

Several offer there help, but Tyrion smiles at how few it is. Many of these men, sword to her father's house, don't offer any support at all. Of  those who do - the only men-at-arms of the houses are Willis Wode, Lharys, Mohor and Kurleket. The others who offer their help are simply sell swords looking for profit - like these two dudes Chiggen and Bronn.

Bronn: Ah-ha! See? This is where I enter the story!

Tyrion: Shh! I'm not done flashing back yet.

Tyrion is taken outside the Inn and assures Cat that they'll never make it all the way to Winterfell. Lady Stark just gives a bitchy smirk, ties his hands behind his back, and throws a burlap sack over his head. They head out on the road, throw him on his horse, and head out in the rain. 

The next morning, they finally take the sack off of his head.

Tyrion: Hey! This isn't the Kingsroad! This is the high road to the Eyrie! We're not going to Winterfell at all. 

Cat: Hahaha, that's right you stupid Imp. Looks like Cat pulled a fast one on you! 

Bronn: So are we caught up to the present yet?

Tyrion: I'm not quite sure, let's just go ahead and say yes so that we can move forward with the story.

They march onward. By the second night, Tyrion is freed of his shackles as well. The road was full of dangerous Shadowcats and Vale Mountain Clans.

Tyrion: Shadowcats? Band name?

Cat: Absolutely.

Tyrion: Aww, I think you're coming to like me. You took that bag off my head and unshackled me.

Cat: Please, don't think there is any fondness here. This is a dangerous road and it would be better if your hands were free. Make even the slightest attempt at running and you'll be a gonner though, Imp!

Tyrion: Stupid Marillion. This is all his damn fault. Still, good move on your part, Cat. Continually telling everyone that we would be going to Winterfell and instead going here. All my father's men will be going in the wrong direction. But this is a rough and bumpy road that's hard on the horses. I already lost mine. How many men will lose their horses too? It will only slow us down more. Hell, I'll probably die before I even get there at this rate.

Cat: Oh please, we won't let you die. I'm not a murderer. I'm looking for justice. You will have a fair trial and be executed after that.

Tyrion: I'm not a murderer either. What kind of idiot would hire a common assassin and then give him his own blade?

Cat: Uhh.... But Littlefinger said...

Tyrion: -LITTLEFINGER? Oh, is that who told you I did this?

Cat: Why would he lie about a thing like this?

Tyrion: Shit, don't you know that lying is the only thing that Littlefinger actually does? All the time. You can only guess how many times he bragged about being the one to pop your cherry.

Cat: That's a lie!!!

Tyrion: Yeah, see what I mean?

Kurleket: You want me to cut this imp's throat, Lady Stark? An important character like me that will last a long time would be happy to do the deed!

Cat: No, let the idiot talk.

Tyrion is (obviously) happy about that. Maybe he's getting through to her. Maybe she's starting to see reason. Her eyes are beginning to show a little bit of doubt. 

Tyrion: Tell me Cat, how exactly did Littlefinger say I got this dagger?

Cat: Well, he says it used to be HIS dagger but then you won it from him in a bet where the Knight of Flowers unseated your brother.

Tyrion: Oh wow, and you believed that? If Loras Tyrell won the match... and I won the bet... wouldn't that mean that I bet on Loras? That I bet for my brother to lose? My brother who is the only human being who has ever been kind to me and the only member of my family who doesn't despise me?

Cat: I... uhh... erm...

But she's interrupted when they hear a cry out from the woods. 

Cat: Oh shit! It's the Mountain Clans! Everyone take up arms!

Tyrion: Me too! Give me and my men weapons!

Cat: You've got to be kidding.

Tyrion: Why else would you want my hands free and unshackled? For just a situation like this! These clansmen don't care about Lannister or Stark. They will kill us all. You need every man you can get. Both us, as well as your men who are guarding us.

Cat nods, and orders for Tyrion and his men to get weapons.

Bronn: Here you go, have this axe.

Tyrion: Dude, I don't know how to use an axe.

Bronn: Meh, whatever.

Everyone runs into the battle. Except for the singer Marillion who runs away, screaming like a little coward and hiding behind a log. 

Tyrion: Dude, get away from here. This is my log.

Marillion: *pees himself*

Tyrion: Oh gross. Whatever, I might as well just go ahead now and die rather than hide back here with you. FOR CASTERLY ROCK!!!

He runs into battle and a horse rider comes immediately after him. Tyrion swings his axe and hits the horse in the neck. That's right... two horse decapitation chapters in a row!  The horse and rider both come down, landing on Marillion. 

Marillion: *craps himself*

The battle rages on. Tyrion stays mostly on the sidelines, and only occasionally comes in to slice some legs off a horse or kill a fallen foe on the ground. He even helps save Lady Catelyn from a group of attackers. In the end, they are victorious - but his man Jyck get killed. Mohor is dead too. And also he sees this happen: 

Kurleket: I am an important character! I will go on to do great things- *gets head bashed in by mace*

Tyrion: Ooh, a free dagger!

He takes the dagger from Kurleket's dead body. Because who passes up a free dagger? Nobody, that's who.

Tyrion: We only lost three people. That was pretty good.

Bronn: Was that your first battle, Imp?

Tyiron: Yep.

Bronn: You know what a man needs after having been blooded for the first time? A woman, that's what!

Tyrion: Well, I'm up for it if Cat is.

Cat: Choke on a bag of dicks, Lannister.

Tyrion: Aww, just kidding! And I thought we were having a moment. I saved you in that battle and everything.

Cat: I'm still taking you to the Eyrie to be put to death, so I suppose not.

Willis Wode: Come now, m'lady. We must be on our way. Surely there will be more attackers soon.

Cat: No! We must stop to bury the dead and pay our respects. Or at least place some rocks on top of them so their bodies don't get eaten by Shadowcats.

Bronn: Yeah, have fun doing that. As for myself and Chiggen... we'll be on our way to do more useful things. Like continue breathing.

Rodrick: As much as I hate to agree with the sell sword, Lady Stark, he's right. We need to keep going.

And so they head out. Tyrion laughs at Marillion who has a bunch of broken ribs and looks like he got messed up. He's less happy that Marillion somehow wound up with one of the clansmen's sweet ass Shadowcat-skin cloaks. 

And speaking of Shadowcats, in the distance as they ride away... Tyrion hears the sounds of the Shadowcats already eating the dead. It's HARDCORE. Shit he will have nightmares about forever. He tries to take his mind off that. 

Tyrion: Anyway... to complete the story we were talking about before this attack happened, Cat, there is one huge flaw in Littlefinger's story. I would never bet against my family! 

AGoT 30: Eddard VII

Ned and Ser Barristan Selmy help the Silent Sisters of the Faith of the Seven drag away the corpse of the knight killed by the Mountain at the joust.

Barristan: I stood vigil over him myself, Lord Hand. Ser Hugh had no family but a mother far away in the Vale.

Ned: Wait... what? Ser Hugh? From the Vale? That's who died in the joust?

Barristan: Yes.

Ned: Ser Hugh of the Vale? Jon Arryn's squire? The one who was just anointed? He was killed? By a giant thug who works for the Lannisters? Like... RIGHT when I was trying to interview him about some CSI investigation shit I'm doing?

Barristan: Well, I don't know anything about you trying to interview him, but yes. Also, you said "CSI investigation" but the "I" in "CSI" already stands for investigation. So technically you just said "investigation investigation."

Ned: Oh, my bad.

Barristan: No problem. Just sort of a pet peeve of mine. Like when someone says "ATM Machine."

Ned: What the fuck is an ATM?

Barristan: I have no idea. Anyway, the boy had newly forged armor. Probably cost him a pretty penny. Not sure he even paid for it yet.

Ned: Oh, he paid for it alright. With his life.

Barristan: You know what I meant, don't be a dick.

Ned: Have the armor sent to his mother in the Vale. She deserves that at least.

Barristan: And how about King Robert, huh? He insists that he's going to fight in this melee tomorrow. What a dumbass. Well, at least he'll probably forget about his drunken promises by the morning.

Ned: Oh, that's the one type of thing he won't forget about. Now I need to convince his dumb ass otherwise.

Ned reaches the King's pavilion and finds the King's two squires trying to squeeze the King's gigantic gut into his armor. 

Robert: You stupid idiots! Too incompetent to even know how to put a man into armor!

Ned: Look, I'm not saying that they're not idiots. They probably are.  But that's not why. You can't get into your armor because it looks like you found the original Robert Baratheon, cloned him six times, and then ate all seven of them.

Robert: WHAT?! How DARE you call the king fat! You better know your place, Stark!

Ned: Yeah, well, how about these two morons go run out and ask Ser Santagar for the "breastplate stretcher" to help out with this.

The two squires run away to do so. 

Everyone starts laughing when they leave. 

Barristan: Hahahaha! Breastplate stretcher?! That doesn't even exist!

Robert: Ho ho ho! Good one, Ned! Look! Even you're smiling at that one! A Stark smiling! It must be a first!

Barristan: Someone get a camera!

Ned: What the fuck is a camera?

Barristan: I have no idea.

Ned: So Robert, are those two little assholes Lannisters? They sure look like it. What with their blonde hair, beady eyes and their smarmy douche faces.

Robert: Yep. Lancel and Tyrek.

Ned: Holy crap, you've just surrounded yourself with Lannisters, haven't you? You better watch your back around them.

Robert: Well I'm married to the worst of them, ol' Icebox Cersei. Fuck that bitch. How dare she order me not to fight in that melee. I DO WHAT I WANT! Lyanna would have never told me that.

Ned: Honestly, Robert. You never really even knew Lyanna. You just have this fantasy about what she was like.

Robert: Pfft, you're just hating on me because I'm still young and have the juices for battle flowing through my veins! I'm going to win this battle! Also, ow, my hip just gave out.

Ned: And Cersei is right anyway. Besides, do you think if you win the melee it's a true victory? Do you think anyone else fighting would actually DARE to strike the King?

Robert: WHAT?! How dare you! Of course they would! I mean... wait... no... I... uhh... DAMNIT, Barristan, get out of here!

Barristan: Your grace.

Barristan leaves so that Ned and Robert can have some best bros talk. 

Robert: Damn you, Ned. Always pointing out obvious shit like that. You know, I never felt so alive as when I was fighting to become king. But now that I am king and ruling, everything sucks. I didn't even want to marry Cersei. That was Jon Arryn's idea. So that I'd have the wealth of the Lannisters supporting me in case that Viserys Targaryen douche ever tried to return. I just want to run away from all this and go fighting. Be a warrior or sell sword somewhere! But I know if I do that... then my little douchey boy Joffrey will be in charge. And holy shit that would be a bad idea. Look man, I know he lied about that direwolf thing. I'm sorry we had to kill your girl's wolf.  Some days I wonder how a boy that bad could be of my own blood.

Ned: Hahaha, yeah. I know, right?  Wait... no... say that again.

Robert: I said "some days I wonder how Joffrey could be of my own blood."

Ned pulls out his CSI notebook and scribbles that down. 

The two then change the subject and talk about the jousting for a bit. Eventually the night passes on and it's morning. They have breakfast and Robert is in a good mood. He agrees not to go fighting and talks about the good old days when they were younger. The old Robert starts to come out, and this makes Ned optimistic that maybe the old Robert is indeed buried in there somewhere (beneath many, many, many, many layers of fat). Maybe Robert will listen when Ned is ready to drop his truth bombs about the Lannisters and their plotting. 

Ned then heads off to the tournament to sit with Sansa today. Septa Mordane is still recovering from her hangover and Jeyne Poole was too horrified by the bloodshed to come back again. Sansa still loves this shit though. 

Sansa: Oh hey dad! Isn't this tournament just the BEST?!

Ned: *grumble*

Littlefinger: Okay, first fight up... The Hound versus Jaime Lannister! I got all my money on Jaime! I know a dog knows better than to bite the hand that feeds it! Who wants to bet?

Random Person: Uh, me?

The Hound then defeats Jaime.  Littlefinger forks over the money. 

Sansa: I knew the Hound would win!

Littlefinger: Oh shit, look at the Three-Eyed Crow over here that can see the fucking future! Dear Sansa, how about you tell me who wins the next round so I don't lose all my cash? Also, let me smell your panties.

Ned: Dude, I'm right here and will punch your face in.

Up next is The Mountain versus Loras Tyrell. Ned thinks about all these crazy stories they say about the Mountain. One is that during the war... The Mountain tracked down Rhaegar Targaryen's wife Ella Martel and raped her and murdered their son, Aegon, by bashing his head against a wall. There are also rumors about the murder of two of his wives, his sister, his father, and the burning of his brother's face. Usually Ned doesn't pay attention to this type of gossip.  But with the Mountain he can actually believe these stories. This is seriously one messed up, evil dude.

Sansa: Oh daddy, please tell me that Loras will be safe!

Ned: Of course he will, darling. These lances are designed to break.

Sansa: You mean just like with the one yesterday where the Mountain decapitated that guy?

Ned: Touché.

The two combatants run towards one another, but The Mountain has trouble controlling his horse. It's acting crazy and has a mysterious horse hard-on. Meanwhile, Loras's ride is all smooth like it has power steering. The Knight of Flowers easily takes down the Mountain and everyone cheers. 

Sansa: Yay! That's my new boyfriend! Don't tell Joffrey. 

The Mountain picks himself up and his furious. Being a punk ass, he blames his horse and calls for his sword. He then decapitates his horse and the whole crowd is shell shocked by that horrific, horse-murdering bullshit. The Mountain then walks over towards Ser Loras and knocks him off his horse. As he goes in to deliver a blow, The Hound comes in for the rescue. 

Crowd: Oh SHIT! OH SHIT! It's Clegane-Bowl everyone! CLEGANE BOWL!!!

They grab popcorn. 

Robert: STOP THIS! STOP THIS AT ONCE!

The Mountain glares at the King and drops his sword. He storms off, pouting. 

Crowd: Awwww! Damnit, we wanted Clegane Bowl!

Loras: Sandor, I owe you my life! I don't think we need to have the final match here. I think we all know who the real winner is today. THIS GUY!

Loras holds up The Hound's arm and points at him. 

Crowd: I know we, overall, should feel gypped by this end. But let's go ahead and cheer for the Hound. Yay Hound!

Littlefinger: Oh man, I could tell Loras's mare was in heat. I bet he knew that and used that horse on purpose, knowing it would make the Mountain's horse all horny and crazy.

Ned: Gross. You're so sex obsessed that you even are thinking about horse sex.

With the jousting tournament over and The Hound the winner, they head over to Archery next. But nobody cares about that and some due named Anguy wins. After that is the big melee. Thoros of Myr wins it with HOLY SHIT, A SWORD THAT SETS ITSELF ON FIRE!!!  Like a bazillion people are injured during the fight. 

Ned: I am so glad the King sobered up and decided not to fight in that one. That fire sword thing is whack.

That night at the feast, everyone is happy and Ned is in a good mood too. Sansa and Arya are even talking to each other. 

Sansa: Ew, why do you have all of those bruises, Arya?

Arya: Uhh... my... "dancing instructor."

Sansa: You must be a terrible dancer.

Ned: I hope this Syrio guy isn't being too hard on you, Arya.

Arya: Every injury is a lesson that makes you better.

Ned: Whatever, I know arguing with you will be useless.

Later Ned returns to his solar for the night and stares at the dagger that was used in the attempt on Bran's life. He thinks about it. Why would Tyrion want Bran dead? How is it linked to the death of Jon Arryn? Why was Jon so interested in King Robert's bastard children like Genrdy and this other bastard named Edric Storm? These are two different people, mind you. Definitely two different people, sorry of that confuses you TV-show-only people. 

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door. 

Ned: Damn, this chapter is still going, huh? A long one. Who is it?

Man in Disguise: Just a random man in disguise. Open up.

Ned: What do you want?

Man in Disguise: Let me in and close the door first and I'll tell you.

Ned does so. 

Man in Disguise: It's me!

He pulls his disguise off. It's Varys. 

Ned: Oh shit, the disguise was solid. I had no idea it was you.

Varys: Good, I don't want Queen Cersei to know I was meeting with you.

Ned: And why is that?

Varys: Because I have heard some secret rumors about the Queen. My little birds say that she was plotting to have the King murdered in the melee!

Ned: Oh shit! Really? Maybe that's something you could have told me BEFORE the melee though.

Varys: I didn't know whether to trust you or not then. There are two types of people here - those loyal to the crown and those only loyal to themselves. So many people are not true to their word and shift alliances on a whim. But you gave the king advice for him not to participate. You really want to protect him. I know I can trust you.

Ned: Wait, how does this make any sense? Cersei was specifically telling the King NOT to participate in the melee. If she wanted him to be killed in the melee, then why did she beg him not to participate?

Varys: Did she really beg him not to participate? Or did she ORDER him not to participate? And in a very public manner in front of everyone else.

Ned: Goddamn it, Varys, you're RIGHT! The one way to make sure Robert does something is to publicly order him NOT to do that very thing. He's like a petulant child in that way. Plus doing so publicly gives Cersei cover. That way even if the murderer gets caught and names her - there are a ton of witnesses that saw Cersei tell the king not to participate and the murderer would look like a liar. That's some deep, manipulative, evil Lannister plotting there. And I bet they'll plot to kill him yet again!

Varys: No doubt. We must be ever watchful.

Ned: You know what, Varys? You're a stand-up dude coming to me like this. I hated your weird, bald, no-ball ass at first. But I think we can bro it out from now on.

Varys: Oh, thank you. But in public you must continue to show contempt for me like before. We must not let the Lannisters on. Or any other plotters who might be involved.

Ned: Yeah. Who knows who could have been involved? It could be anyone. Just like with Jon Arryn's death. And hey - do your little birds know any more about that death?

Varys: Oh yes, I might as well tell you now that I know I can trust you. He was given the Tears of Lys, a very rare and costly poison.

Ned: Poison! I knew it! But who administered it?

Varys: It could have been one of a number of people, but after today I think the answer is obvious. His squire, Hugh.

Ned: SHIT, you're right! And now he's dead! Killed by a Lannister hitman. Another Lannister loose end cleaned up. This is hardcore. So now I know that he was killed and by who. But the biggest question of all... WHY?

Varys: Obvious, Ned. For asking too many questions. Just like you're doing right now.

Ned: Oh, that's reassuring.

AGoT 29: Sansa II

Sansa is riding to the Hand's Tournament with Septa Mordane and Jeyne Poole and it is the BEST THING EVER. Her dad must be so proud of this tournament being held in his name.

Sansa: Look at all those handsome Kingsguards in their white, except for Jaime who gets to also wear gold for some reason. And wow, look at that Mountain guy Gregor Clegane. He's probably such a stand-up guy. Oh look, there's Yohn Royce. He wears armor that's thousands of years old and protected by ancient runes.

Yohn: Has anyone seen my son Waymar? Hello? Hello? My son Waymar was in the Prologue chapter and nobody has seen him since. Can anyone help me?

Septa Mordane: And look girls, there is Jason Mallister. You can tell from his eagle-winged helmet.

Sansa: Oh, look at that guy! Hehehe! He's so weird looking.

Septa Mordane: That's Thoros of Myr. He once scaled the walks of Pyke with a flaming sword, when he helped to defeat the Greyjoys. And just in case you wanted to know, Jorah Mormont was there at that battle too. Not that it matters. I mean Jorah is an exile over in Essos now, so the possibility that Jorah and Thoros would be reunited for any type of scene is highly dubious.

Jeyne: Oh wow, look at that dark guy, Jalabhar Xho. He's so scary looking!

Sansa: Wow, that's pretty racist Jeyne.

Jeyne: But that guy over there... Beric Dondarrion. WOW! So handsome!

Sansa: Wait... you're crushing on Beric? I really hope he's younger in the books because that is sort of gross, Jeyne.

Sansa continues to watch all the knights go buy. It's so amazing! Just like the songs, but even better!

They watch the tourney from a place of honor, and watch the jousts go on.  Everyone from Winterfell is absolutely shitty, with the exception of Jory Cassel who wins two matches but then loses a third one by decision of the King.

When riders collide, Jeyne often hides her eyes. But Sansa continues to watch because she's a FUCKING LADY.  Septa Mordane nods in approval. 

The jousting goes on all day. Jaime Lannister defeats Barristan Selmy. The Hound and the Mountain seem to be kicking everyone's ass. Some unfortunate ugly-looking young knight with some crescent moon on his chest has to go up against the Mountain next. Sansa doesn't even know who it is.  The moons are, like, from the Vale of Aryyn or something. That's where Aunt Lysa lives. But still, she doesn't care about this dude at all. 

The Mountain charges and impales him with his lance. The dude falls off his horse, completely fucking dead and bleeding out like a burst open fire hydrant.

Sansa: I feel nothing. There will be no songs sung of this poor, unlucky bastard. He'll be immediately forgotten and his death will bare no ramifications on any follow-up chapters or separate narratives.

They drag his corpse off the field, throw some dirt over the blood and keep the jousts going.  Next Renly faces the Hound and the Hound knocks him off his horse so hard that one of the antlers on Renly's helm breaks off. The Hound tosses it into the crowd and they fight over it like a foul ball. 

Now there are only four left in the tournament - The Hound, the Mountain, Jaime, and the Knight of Flowers AKA Ser Loras Tyrell. All day long, Loras gave pretty white flowers to the ladies. But this time he rides up to Sansa and gives her a red flower. 

Loras: No victory is half so beautiful as you.

Sansa: Oh my god, I just came.

Littlefinger: Oh hey there Sansa, I'm here too and I've been staring at you the whole time. Your hair is just like your mother's. Hawt. You having your period yet or what?

He touches her cheek, looks deeply into her eyes, and then walks away. 

Sansa: Aaaaand, I just un-came.

King Robert: Okay everyone, it's getting late. Let's have the last three matches tomorrow. Now let's all eat and get shitfaced!

And they close up the jousting for the night and head over to the feast.  There, she has a seat next to Joffrey. They haven't talked since Lady's death, so she had no idea how Joffrey would act around her. But he starts complementing her for being beautiful and pours her and Septa Mordane some wine. Sansa knows that nothing is Joffey's fault. Joffrey is a wonderful, misunderstood guy and everything is really fucking Arya's fault. Yeah. Arya. 

Sansa: Thank you so much, Joffrey! You're so awesome! Do you think the Knight of Flowers is going to win tomorrow?

Joffrey: Hell no! It will be my uncle Jaime or the Hound. But that's only because I'm not fighting in the tournament! Once day I'll be in it and I'll kick everyone's ass because I'm so talented and awesome!

But their happy time together gets disrupted by the noise coming from the super drunk and angry king. 

Robert: SHUT UP, BITCH! YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I DO WHAT I WANT! DON'T TELL ME NOT TO FIGHT! IF I WANT TO FIGHT TOMORROW, I'LL FIGHT!

Queen Cersei rolls her eyes and walks away. Jaime walks over to the King and the King pushes him to the ground. 

Robert: Haha Kingslayer bitch! See, I can still kick your ass! Give me my war hammer and I can kick everyone's ass! I'm going to fight in this skirmish tomorrow!

Joffrey: It's getting late, dear Sansa. Would you like an escort back to your room?

Sansa: Yes, I would! Very much so!

She gets super happy and excited, knowing that Joffrey will walk her back to her place. Septa Mordane is all drunk and asleep now... so she can't cockblock. Sansa might even let Joffrey get to second base just to make sure he's not angry at her for any reason.

Joffrey: Great! Okay Hound, come escort Sansa back!

Sansa: WHAT?!

Hound: Hahaha, you dumb bitch. You didn't think he'd do it himself, did you?

And so the Hound escorts Sansa back to the Tower of the Hand. It's awkward as hell. Sansa refuses to look him in the face because a proper lady shouldn't comment on such things as his burnt skin. She tries to make some polite small talk but it all fails.

Hound: Oh come on bitch, just out with it already. You want to know how this happened?

Sansa: No! Please! I don't, ser.

Hound: Ser? I'm no knight like my douche brother. Look at you, reciting pretty words that your Septa taught you. Fuck that. You want to know what "noble" knights like my brother are like? He did this to me.  When we were kids I wanted to play with one of his toys, so he grabbed me and held my face into a fucking fire and burned half of my damn face off. Now I look like Harvey Dent. That's some fucked up shit, right?  So much for chivalrous knights anointed in fucking blesses oils.

Sansa: He... he is no true knight then.

Hound: Oh wow, BIG FUCKING DETECTIVE COLOMBO YOU ARE THERE! Another mystery solved! 

Finally, they arrive at Sansa's bedchamber where the Hound drops her off. 

Hound: Have a nice night's sleep. Oh yeah, and if you tell anyone this story about my brother and my face I WILL KILL YOU. Sweet dreams.

AGoT 28: Catelyn V

Cat and Ser Rodrick Cassel are riding North on the Kingsroad towards Winterfell. But it's still a long way to go. A light rain falls.

Rodrick: You should cover yourself m'lady. You'll catch a chill in this rain.

Cat: Please, I enjoy this weather. It reminds me of the rains in Riverrun growing up with Lysa, Edmure and Littlefinger. Much better than that rain in the north which is like hail.

Rodrick: M'lady, it's getting late. Perhaps we should pull aside and make camp and a fire. Besides, there are shadowcats running around at night.

Cat: Oh shit. SHADOWCATS? That sounds awesome. Why is this entire chapter and/or the entire book series not just all about Shadowcats? I smell a spinoff.

Rodrick: M'lady, please.

Cat: Look, There is an inn at the crossroads not far from here. It's called "Inn at the Crossroads." Nobody is quite sure how it got its name. This fat lady named Masha Heddle runs it. Oh, I have so many memories of her and those jacked up teeth of hers. She used to always offer me sweet cakes. We can go there instead.

Rodrick: It's pretty busy and crowded there. We wouldn't want anyone to notice you. Best to stay away from places like that.

Just then, a party of soldiers led by Lord Jason Mallister, bannerman to her father Hoster Tully, pass right by them. Mallister doesn't bat an eye at Cat. 

Cat: See? Look at that! I'm so filthy and disheveled from this riding that not even the bannerman to my father would recognize me. Come on, let's get to that Inn!

Rodrick: Kind of a big fucking coincidence that happened right when we were having that particular conversation.

Cat: Shut up.

They head to the Inn and get a table in a far corner. Sure enough, nobody recognizes Cat - not even Masha Heddle.

Cat: Damn, she's even uglier than I remember.

They change into dry clothes and sit down for supper. As they do so, Cat drifts into deep thought about which way they should go. Here at the Crossroads they can go any direction. She could go west to Riverrun to warn her family and see her sick father. She could go east to the Eryie and see that crazy sister Lysa. In the end, she decides continuing on to Winterfell is the best course of action. But she continues to wonder about the reliability of the bannermen in these areas if they indeed have to take up war against the Lannisters. Sure, her own people are solid. But what about those asshole Freys? They showed up late in the last war and only after the winning side had been determined. And some other houses up here sided with the Targayrens in the last big war. But her daydreaming is cut off by...

Marillion: -HEY THERE! I'm Marillion. Surely you've heard of me. I'm a super famous singer. I write ballads that get the girls' panties wet.

Cat: Never heard of you.

Rodrick: Nope. And you're so important most of your content will be cut from the TV show.

Marillion: DAMNIT! I get gut and yet they have time to add Ed Fucking Sheeran into the show? Anyway, pay me some silver and I'll sing you a song.

Rodrick: I'd rather take your lyre and throw it down a fucking well, along with you.

Marillion: Geez, harsh crowd. You know, I'm kind of a big deal in Riverrun. I'm like best friends with Lord Tully.

Cat: Bullshit. My brother hates singers.

And just as they're talking, the door bursts open. Tyrion Lannister and a crew including Yoren and some other folks walks in.

Tyrion Lannister: WHATTUP BITCHES?! Tyrion in da house! On my way back down to King's Landing from Winterfell! Let me get a room, some food and some bitches for the night! A bath too. I guess that could go before the bitches because I smell like ass.

Masha Heddle: We're out of rooms, sorry.

Tyrion: Well, I guess I'd only need a... SMALL ROOM!

Yoren: Oh shit, good one.

Masha Heddle: I said no rooms! Go sleep in the stable.

Tyrion: Is that so? Well check out this gold coin I have here! Anyone interested?

Random Dude: Uhm... Me!

Tyrion tosses the coin to the man.

Tyrion: See that shit there, people? He paid some silver for a room. Now there are no rooms left and thus the value of the rooms are now greater than when he initially paid. He can therefore trade the room for gold now, making a tidy profit. This man is the OG house flipper. It's like he's trading stocks and now he's in the black.  Let that be a lesson to you all on the value of capitalism. Now somebody send some roast fowl up to my new room because I'm fucking starving. Yoren, care to join me?

But then, Marillion's fame-thirsty self runs over. 

Marillion: Oh, Lord Lannister! Please let me play you a song about your father's victory at King's Landing!

Tyrion: That would be a great idea if anyone suspected I had food poisoning and I needed to throw up all my food. No thanks, dickwad.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go up and--- FUCK, is that Cat Stark? CAT!!! I missed you in Winterfell! The boys say hi!

Cat: Sonofabitch.

Everyone turns and looks at Cat, finally recognizing her.

Rodrick: Who told you that coming here was a terrible idea and that you'd be noticed? OH RIGHT, ME.

Tyrion: Whattup girl? You're looking kind of rough and dirty, but I'd still hit it.

Cat stands up. 

Cat: I see in this room a number of men-at-arms.  Brackens, Freys, Whents. You are all sworn to the house of my father, Lord Holster Tulley. Tell me... are you true to my father?

She gets a somewhat muted and confused response.

Tyrion: Cat... what the hell is this all about?

Cat: Well, if you ARE true, then know this. This little imp here was a guest in my home. While a guest, he sent an assassin to murder my son, Bran. In the name of King Robert, I order you to help me seize this man and bring him to the King's justice in Winterfell!

Tyrion: Hahaha, oh man. What kind of hilarious practical joke is this? Also, your timeline is a bit off. Technically I had already left for Castle Black by the time an assassin was sent to kill your boy, so I wouldn't have done it WHILE I was a guest at your house. Moot point though, because I didn't do it at all. I'm innocent of the charges and surely nobody here would believe you that I--

And suddenly Tyrion is silent as a dozen swords surround his neck. 

Cat: Hahaha, oh man. I don't know what's more satisfying. All those swords surrounding you or the look on your shitty little imp face.