ASoS 12: Tyrion II

Tyrion sneaks up on Varys in his bedchambers. 

Varys: Eww, gross. Just what direction is this chapter going in?

Tyrion: Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm just reversing things on you. You know how you usually appear out of nowhere and surpise me. Now I'm flipping it.  By the way. You haven't been doing that a lot recently. Guess even though I'm not really dead... now that I'm not the Hand of the King you don't even bother talking, huh? You can no longer use me to achieve whatever shitty scheming you're up to.

Varys: I'm deeply offended. You know I'm a dear friend. I was just keeping my distance since you were so close to death after that battle. I didn't want to bother or annoy you while you were recovering. Also your face is really fucked up now and I hate looking at it.

Tyrion: So I hear Pycelle is back on the Council.

Varys: Yep. Lord Tywin did that so to avoid them putting some Tyrell-loyal maester on there. My spies listen to the whispers, even at the archmaesters' conclave in Oldtown.  And speaking of fired  people that the new leadership brought back - Ser Boros Blount has also been given his job back in the Kingsguard.

Tyrion: Well, that wasn't me who fired him. That was Cersei. But yeah, she made the right decision. That guy was an asshat. But while we're on the subject of the Kingsguard... I'd like to talk about Mandy Moore.

Varys: Ugh. Really? Could we not. As previously stated every other time this was brought up... Mandy Moore is a red herring. GRRM will never bother to resolve this plotline or explain why he tried to kill you. I know it's unsatisfying, but it is how it is.

Tyrion: Damn. Geez. I was just saying.

Varys: Say something else then. So you have a better reason for coming here? I'm sure you didn't really want to talk about Mandy Moore.

Tyrion: Actually, you're right. I want to talk about Shae. I need you to bring me to her.

Varys: Are you sure that's a good idea? Didn't your last chapter specifically end with a threat from your father that he would kill the next whore you were in bed with?

Tyrion: Yes, but I want one last pop before I send her away forever. And by "pop" I mean--

Varys: --Oh, I get it. Just because I had my privates removed by a wizard doesn't mean I don't know what you're talking about.  I suppose there is one way I could arrange it which should be pretty safe and undetected. It would have to be in my bedchambers though.

Tyrion: On the one hand, that makes a lot of sense. You know, what with you being the spymaster and all the secret passages throughout the Red Keep likely leading to your room. On the other hand, eww... have sex in your bed?

Varys: What. It's not like I'n going to sniff the sheets afterwards or anything. Or will I?

Tyrion: Now I'll never get that image out of my head.

Varys: Look, you need to do this discreetly. Cersei's spies are watching everwhere. Those Kettleblacks are loyal to her.

Tyrion: Yeah, what the hell? I was bribing them too. Why aren't they on my side?

Varys: Cersei is totally hinting at Osmund Kettleblack that he's going to get some pussy if he obeys her. And he's falling for it. But there are plenty of others in addition to the Kettleblacks that would sell you out.

Tyrion: Yeah. I'm sure my dad has ordered someone to spy on me too, seperate from Cersei's orders.

Varys: Indeed he has. Me.

Tyrion: Oh, wow. Interesting. You know, you're not a very good spy if you tell people that.


Varys: *shrugs* Whatever. Say, if you're going to do this Shae thing... you better get freshened up. Go back to your room, take a shower, maybe see if there is anything you can do about your goddamn, hideous, wounded face that looks like a nightmare.

Tyrion: Ouch. But good point.

And so Tyrion goes to do that. He puts on one of those sets of glasses with the fake nose and Groucho Marx mustache. That way he'll have a nose, right!?

Now all clean, Tyrion heads back to Varys's room. Along the way, he runs into Ser Balon Swann and Ser Lorad Tyrell. 

Tyrion: Loras... I always meant to ask why such a handsome, young man like you would take up knighthood. You're giving up your title, lands, and hopes of marriage to a beautiful young woman.

Loras: Hahahahahaha. Good one, Tyrion.

Tyrion: What are you laughing at?

Loras: Oh wait... you're being serious? Let me laugh even harder. HAHAHAHAHAHA.

Tyrion gets back to Varys' chamber to find Varys dressed as a woman. 

Tyrion: *vomits everywhere*

Varys: Hey, I don't look that bad.

Shae is there too. She's not dressed as a woman. She's ass naked. 

Shae: Hi Tyrion!

Tyrion: Get the fuck out of here, Varys. And I better not here any secret doors opening up while I'm in the middle of taking care of business.

Varys leaves. 

Tyrion: Oh Shae, I've missed you so much.

Shae: There is no need to wear that fake nose with those glasses. I just want to see your face for how it really loo--

She takes his glasses/fake nose off and sees his wounds from the battle. 

Shae: Oh second thought. Leave it on.

They have sex.

Tyrion: Okay, Shae. I have something important to tell you. This needs to be the last time ever that we--

Shae: --Oh hey. I'm invited to the King's wedding, right? That will be so much fun to go to. I want to wear all my pretty clothes and jewels again. Not these maid clothes for Lady Tanda. Everyone is going to be there at the wedding. It's going to be bigger than Harry and Meghan! Even that singer, Symon Silver Tongue, is going to be there. You know, the one who has previously caught us with each other before and knows of our secret?

Tyrion: Interesting that such a minor character from an entire book ago would be mentioned again like that. But okay. Look, what I'm trying to say is that this is a terrible idea. You shouldn't go. Why would Lady Tanda's maid me on the wedding guest list? Also, I need to tell you something important! This is the last time that we can ever--

Shae: --Want more sex now?

They have more sex, Shae distracting him from telling her that they're going to break up. Which means that they don't break up. If ending your relationship with a hooker even counts as "breaking up," which it doesn't.

Having never told Shae, Tyrion goes back to his room. 

Tyrion: Oh, hey Bronn. Where have you been?

Bronn: Having sex with this prostitute named Alayaya. She's so hot. She has all these whip marks on her back though. That angers me a lot. If only I knew who was to blame for it. Like some guy who put this girl in the middle of some convoluted plot that involved her getting whipped and tortured for no reason.

Tyrion: Fuck you, Bronn. I need you to do something for me.

Bronn: Okay.

Tyrion: Track down a singer named "Symon Silver Tongue."

Bronn: And kill him?

Tyrion: WHAT?! You're jumping a little bit ahead here.

ASoS 11: Jaime II

The awesome boat ride of Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth, and Ser Cleos Frey continues. 

Jaime: Hey look, there is an inn over there on the side of the river. Let's pull over and stop. I could use a meal.


Brienne: Well, I'd usually say no to anything you suggest to be contrarian. But I guess investigating it doesn't seem like a terrible idea.

And so they paddle the boat over and pull ashore.  As they approach, they see a sign on the side of the tavern.  The sign is a picture of the last King of the North, Torrhen Stark, kneeling to Aegon the Conqueror. 

Jaime: Hahaha! Symbolism! I love it!

Cleos: Ah, the Inn of the Kneeling Man. 

Brienne: Wait... how do you know the name of this place? The sign doesn't have any words on it anywhere. It's just that picture.

Cleos: Well, you see in medieval societies most people were illiterate. So instead of having words written on a sign, they had pictures. This is a picture of a Kneeling Man. So that's the name of the inn. That's why so many pubs and inns have simple names like the "Queen's Arms" or the "White Hart." So they could be easily identified.

Brienne: Gee, thanks. Very educational.

Kid with Crossbow: HEY YOU! HOLD THOSE HANDS UP!

Startled by the sudden appearance of this kid, they hold their hands up. 

Kid: Who are you? Lion, fish, or wolf?

Brienne: We have come from Riverrun. We are here to buy food and drink.

A man then comes around the corner from the inn. 

Father: "Buy" you say? So you got money?

Jaime: Wait... your name is "Father?"

Father: Yes.

Jaime: That sounds like a suspiciously fake name.

Father: What of it?

Jaime: Nothing. I'm just saying. And if you're "Father," then where is "Mother?"

Father: Away.

Brienne: I was asking about food. 

Father: I got some stringy horse meat and stale oatcakes. I can sell you those to eat.

Jaime: You're not really good at this "selling" thing, are you? You're supposed to lie and say it's delicious.

Father: Well, I'm not the actual innkeeper here. I found the innkeeper dead. So I sort of just called dibs on it and took it over.

Brienne: We'd like a meal.

Brienne takes out a coin purse and jingles it around. 

Father: Say no more and come on in!

And so they go inside the inn and the Father makes them dinner. He sits down to eat with them. 

Father: So, where you guys heading?

Cleos: King's Landing.

Jaime: Oh yeah, Cleos. Great idea. Just tell him the truth because surely we can trust this random guy we just met with an obviously fake name.

Father: Going to King's Landing is suicide. Last I heard, King Stannis was outside of the city with a hundred thousand men and a magic sword. I bet everyone there is dead now.

Jaime: Well that's reassuring.

Father: Anyway, if you have to go... you better keep clear of the Kingsroad. Waaaay too dangerous. All sorts of bandits and soldiers there. They'll kill you in a heartbeat. The same for that river you're on. Way too many people watching that river. It's best if you leave your boat here and travel the country through the back roads.

Brienne: Well, if we do that then we'll need some horses.

Father: Well, it just so happens I have some horses. Come on, let me show them off to you.

And so after the meal, they head over to the stable. 

Jaime: This place smells like horse shit.

Father: Well, this is a stable. And there are horses here. And they're shitting. So yeah. It does.


Jaime: These horses are in terrible shape too.

Father: That plow horse was already here when we got here. That old one-eyed gelding wandered in on its own. And that palfrey over there... well... we found it roaming around, riderless with a blood stain on its saddle.

Jaime: Suuuuuure you did. Sure.

Brienne: I'll give you three gold dragons for the horses and provisions.

Father: Yeah, that sounds like a pretty sweet deal.  You also want to stay at the inn for the night for a few coins more? I got some pretty sweet straw beds in here.

Cleos: Yeah, that sounds nice!

Brienne: NO! We will just take the horses and food and be on our way.

Jaime: I agree with the wench. Let's go.

And so they head up on the horses. Or at least two of them do. 

Jaime: Uhh... a little help here.

He points down to his ankles, which still have manacles on them. 

Jaime: I can't exactly ride a horse with these feet chained together.

Brienne: *ugh* Fine.

Brienne cuts the chain apart.  

Jaime: Now, I'll just take this awesome palfrey.

Brienne: No you won't. You're going to ride the one-eyed gelding.

Jaime: Agh, DAMNIT. There goes my chance of making a quick escape and riding away, leaving your loser asses behind.

Cleos: HEY! I'm your cousin and I'm on your side.

Jaime: I don't like you though.

Father: Just remember... stay off the main roads and take the back roads!  A couple miles down the road you're going to hit an old, abandoned, burnt out town. You're going to want to take the road on the left when you get there. Okay?

Brienne: Sure thing. The road on the left.

And they ride. Eventually, they get to the burnt out town.

Cleos: Well, better take that road to the left!

Brienne: No way. We're going right.

Cleos: WHAT?! But he said left.

Jaime: You're such an idiot, Cleos.

Brienne: That was no innkeep, Frey. Why do you think we didn't stay the night? He would have probably killed us in his sleep. If we go to the road on the left, there will be some ambush. It was a definite trap.

Jaime: The wench is right. She may be ugly, but she's not stupid.

Brienne: Stop calling me a wench!

And so they keep riding. Through the rest of the day, and through half of the night. Finally they stop and make camp. 

Brienne: I'll take first watch. The rest of you sleep.

Jaime: How about instead of sleeping, I just stay up and annoy you with questions?

Brienne: No thanks.

Jaime: Too bad. Do you have any siblings?

Brienne: No. I am my father's only s-uhhh... daughter.

Jaime: HAHAHA. You almost said "son." That's hilarious. Man, your clitoris must be some sort of micro-penis or something.

Brienne: I hate you.

Jaime: Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It was just a joke. I apologize.Will you forgive me?

Brienne: Forgive you? Your crimes are beyond forgiving!

Jaime: Ugh. Bitch, you shouldn't judge things you don't know anything about.

Brienne: Why even bother taking the white if you only meant to betray it?

Jaime: Instead of answering that, I'll go into a deep flashback mode.

Years ago, Tywin brings young Cersei to Kings Landing. She hoped to be able to marry the girl off to the Targaryens. 

Tywin: I know you're just a kid, but if you can make this Rhaegar boy like you, then you'll be the queen one day!

Jaime: What about me, daddy?

Tywin: Hrm. I think I'll marry you off to Lysa Tully.

Jaime: Eww, I'm just a young kid now. But I already know that's a terrible idea.

Cersei: I don't want to marry Rhaegar! I just want to spend all my time playing with my brother! He's my best friend!

Tywin: Aww, that's so cute. You two are best friends.

Cersei hugs Jaime. And keeps hugging. And keeps hugging. 

Tywin: Okay, that's going on for a bit too long now.

A few years later, they are teenagers...

Cersei: Jaime, you can't let father send you away from me. I need you to stay here at King's Landing with me.

Jaime: I don't know how. I'm supposed to be the heir to Casterly Rock.

Cersei: I have a plan. Take the white! Then you'll be in the Kingsguard. You'll be around me all the time. We can stay together. And keep having hot, hot, incestuous sex.

Jaime: Well, that's a great idea!

And so they have sex. The next morning Jaime goes and tells everyone his plan to join the Kingsguard. 

Tywin: WHAT?! NO WAY! I won't allow it!

King Aerys II: Nope. Too late. No backsies. Jaime is in my Kingsguard now.

Cersei: Niiiiiice.

Tywin: Fuck this. I quit. I'm no longer Hand of the King.

He takes his Hand of the King pin off and throws it on the floor. 

King Aerys II: How dare you!  You're lucky I'm not an insane person who likes to burn people alive for minor slights!

Right. That's still a few years from now.

Jaime: And that's why I joined the Kingsguard.

Brienne: Wait. What? How did you join the Kingsguard? Did you just have some sort of flashback or something?

Jaime: Yes.

Brienne: Well, I can't see YOUR flashbacks or anything. Only you can. So you still never answered.

Jaime: Look, Aerys is a dick. He went crazy and started burning people. That's why I killed him.

Brienne: I didn't know King Aerys, but a mad king is still a king. So you're still an oathbreaker.

Jaime: Oh... and like you're NOT an oathbreaker? Do you really expect us to believe that shit about a shadow killing Renly? Please! Everyone knows your ugly ass tried to have sex with him and he rejected you. Then you killed him in anger.

Brienne: HOW DARE YOU!

She gets up and unsheathes her sword. Little does she know that she's playing right into Jaime's plan. He'll get her angry... then he'll have his chance to--

--Brienne puts her sword away and storms off. 

Jaime: Damnit. That didn't work. I was going to get her so angry that I could catch her off guard, take that sword, and cut myself free. But now that she's gone, I have nothing to do except have another flashback...

It's the day of the sacking of King's Landing. Robert Baratheon's men are headed toward the city.  Jaime enters the throne room. 

King Aerys II: Oh hey Jaime. I just want to remind everyone that this flashback occurs a few years after that last one. So now I'm full-on crazy. I want to burn some stuff. And by stuff, I mean people. LET'S BURN SOME PEOPLE! Got any people for me to burn? How about your dad? I want to burn your dad alive.  Oh hey. Cool sword. It has a lot of blood on it. Whose blood is that?

Jaime: Rossart's.

King Aerys II: Rossart. Rossart. Why does that name sound so familiar?

Jaime: He's your Hand.

King Aerys II: Oh, right. So why would the blood of the Hand of the King be on a Kingsguard's sword?

Jaime: Because I'm here to kill you.

King Aerys II: Ah. I see. HELP! HELP! HELP! AGHHH!!!

Aerys shits himself on the Iron Throne as Jaime approaches. 

Jaime: Well, that was a narrative embellishment that I didn't need to hear.

Jaime grabs the King and slits his throat. Aerys's body falls down the steps of the Iron Throne and lays on the floor as a pool of blood spills out. 

Lord Roland Crakehall and his soldiers then run into the room. They are sworn to Tywin Lannister. 

Crakehall: Jaime, the city is ours! Oh cool. I see the King is dead. Nice work, kid.

Jaime: Yes. Tell everyone. Spare all who yield to the new king!

Crakehall: Okay. No. Wait. Who exactly is the new king? Should I name someone?

Jaime: *shrug* I don't care, man. I'm 17 years old. Proclaim whoever the hell you want.

Jaime then turns around and looks at the Iron Throne. 

Jaime: Well, I don't want it to be cold for the next guy who gets here.

He sits down on it. 

Not that long later, Ned Stark shows up.

Ned Stark: Dafuq?

Jaime: Oh! Oh! Oh! So cool! We already had this scene in the book series two books ago!  But last time this scene was from YOUR point of view, and now it's from MY point of view. This is so cool!

Ned: Dude! Get off that throne!

Jaime: Haha, yeah! That's entirely consistent with what you said in your POV chapter. I guess our memories of this event are pretty consistent. So this must be where I say, "Oh, my bad. I'm a teenager and am pretty irresponsible. I was just keeping it warm for when the King shows up. Not that King, obviously."

Jaime points at King Aerys on the floor, who is dead.  He laughs a little.

Jaime then gets off the throne. 

*KICK*

Jaime: OW!

Brienne: Wake up! You flashbacked yourself to sleep. It's almost dawn now. Time to get on the road.

Jaime: Stupid wench.

ASoS 10: Davos II

Davos: Wow, bet you'd never think I'd be the character who got the first repeat POV chapter in this book, huh? Davos is truly becoming a main character now!

Captain: Shut up, and stop talking to the audience. You're being silly.

The ship that saved Davos Seaworth pulls up to Dragonstone. But all Davos can think of is one thing...

Davos: --I MUST KILL MELISANDRE!

Customs Officer Standing Around in the Port: Wait, what did you just say?

Davos: Uhhh... nothing.

Customs Officer: Oh, okay. Carry on then. Welcome to Dragonstone.

Davos: *cough*

Customs Officer: Eww.

Davos: Sorry. I got sick, what with being lost out at sea all those days/weeks. I'm fighting off a pretty bad infection. I can barely keep the food up. I was vomiting that whole ship ride long. Although part of that was because the food was so rich.  Yeah man, that was some boat ride. The Captain told me all about what I missed after I fell overboard. Stannis being defeated. The rumors that Renly's ghost joined the battle. A whole bunch of Stannis's supporters flipping sides at the end of the battle and aligning with Joffrey. It was quite the--

Customs Officer: --Okay man, we don't need your life story. Keep on walking.

As he walks through the harbor, he looks in hope for the ships of his sons, Allard and Dale. But they are nowhere to be found. Meaning that those kids of his have probably burned to death. 

Davos: *sigh*

Davos then runs into the ship belonging to an old buddy...

Salladhor Saan: OH SHIT! DAVOS! You're still alive?

Davos: Yep, you can't keep a man like me down. I'm invinc--*COUGH*COUGH*COUGH*

Saan: Hrm, doesn't sound like you're alive for much longer though.

Davos: Yeah. I've got the flux.

Saan: Flux. What is that? I thought that was what they called women's periods in the middle ages.

Davos: Gross. But yeah, it's not that different than that. Except with blood leaking out of my asshole instead. And blood mixed in my puke. A LOT of blood.

Saan: Okay, too much information. Please, come into my ship's cabin and have some food and wine. Maybe that will make you feel better again.

Davos: I'll probably just puke it up again. But I guess maybe some hot wine will be good for my throat.

They go into Saan's ship and Davos has some hot wine. 

Davos: Mmm, this is some good wine.

Saan: Damn right it is. From Essos. I stole all this stuff from some guy name Illyrio Mopatis. The ship. The wine. The food. Everything. I just jacked his ship and seized it.

Davos: Interesting that you just randomly name-dropped that guy now that he's just been mentioned in another chapter. Cool. *cough*

Saan: So tell me, man. How the hell are you still even alive?

Davos: Well, it's a long story. I washed out to see onto a rock.

Saan: And then?

Davos: I got rescued.

Saan: Oh. That story wasn't long at all.

Davos: Hrm, I suppose you're right. It was really long in real life. But I guess summarizing it doesn't take that long.

Saan: Well, I'm glad to have you back. You should join the crew of one of my ships and we can sail the world, getting pussy and stealing from people. HELL YEAH, LET'S BE PIRATES!

Davos: Tempting offer, Salladhor. But I am loyal to Stannis and serve him. I must go to him now and let him know I'm alive.

Saan: Good luck with that shit. He doesn't see anyone anymore. As soon as he got back here to Blackwater he locked himself up in his room and won't see anyone. Well, except for that Red Witch. It's just those two doing crazy shit together. There are rumors that they go down into the lava pits of the mountain together.

Davos: MELISANDRE! I MUST KILL HER!!!!! THIS IS ALL HER FAULT!

Saan: Dude. Don't say that so loud. There are people around. Queen's Men. Spies.

Davos: The only reason I am alive is because the gods saved me... saved me to live another day and KILL THE RED WITCH!

Saan: Okay dude, if you're going to keep on shouting treasonous shit like that where everybody can hear, I'm going to have to ask you to leave my ship. I can't be associated with that kind of stuff.

And so Davos leaves. Where does he head? Right to the castle of Dragonstone...

Davos: ...TO KILL MELISANDRE!

Castle Guard: Excuse me. What did you say?

Davos: Uh... I said, "Excuse me, I'm here to see King Stannis."

Castle Guard: Did you? Because it sounded like you just shouted "To kill Melisande!"

Davos: You must have misheard. Anyway, can I come in to the Stone Drum to visit the King?

Castle Guard: Why should we let you?

Davos: Because I am Davos Seaworth, Stannis's trusted advisor!

Castle Guard: Never heard of you.

Davos: What? Really? I'm kind of a big deal. Are you new on the job or something?

Castle Guard: Yeah. Everyone here is new on the job. All of Stannis's men got killed in the battle or defected. So it's like a whole new team here now.

Davos: Oh. Well. Still, I want to be let in. You should ask around. Find someone who knows who I am.

Castle Guard: Ugh. Okay. If you insist. Wait in the fucking lobby and I'll try to find someone.

The Guard goes off and Stannis waits in the Lobby, reading a People Magazine. 

Davos: Hrm. "Who Will Be Prince Harry and Meghan Markle's (Adorable!) Page Boys and Bridesmaids?"  Oh... I have got to read this. I love these royal wedding stories!

As he waits in the lobby and reads his magazine, Shireen and Patchface run into the room. 

Shireen: UNCLE DAVOS!

Davos: Well, I'm not your Uncle, but I guess it's cool that you call me that. Now where is MELISANDRE SO THAT I CAN KILL HER?

Patchface: Fool's blood. King's blood, blood on the maiden's thigh, but chains for the guests and chains for the bridegroom, aye, aye, aye!

Davos: Dude, nobody likes you and your eerily prophetic riddles, Patchface. Go away.

Then, another idiot comes running into the room. This kid is so stupid that he runs right into Davos, and almost knocks himself out. 

Davos: Who the hell is this moron?

Kid Who Looks Just Like Robert Baratheon: Oh, sorry sir. I'm--

Davos: --Edric Storm?

Edric: Yeah! How did you guess?

Davos: I mean it's pretty obvious. You look just like your dad.

Edric: Yeah. King Robert was the bestest dad ever! I mean... at least he was the one day of the year he would come around to say hi. But that one day every year was great! He'd help train me! He was going to raise me to be a great soldier, just like him!

Davos: Yeah, well. He's dead now.

Edric: You're that Davos guy, right? I heard all about you. Let me see that fucked up hand of yours. I heard Stannis cut all your fingers off!

Davos: Uh. Sure.

Davos takes off his glove and shows Edric his severed fingers. 

Edric: GROSSSSSSSS! That's so nasty. Uncle Stannis is one sick fuck, huh? My dad would have never done something like that to you.

Just then, the Castle Guard comes back in. 

Castle Guard: Hey dude, I found this guy. Maybe he can say you are who you say you are.

And into the room walks Ser Axell Florent.

Axell: Well, well, well. Davos fucking Seaworth survived. I guess turds really do float.

Davos: Nice to see you too, dick.  So, have you come to take me to the King?

Axell: The King? Hahahaha, no. I've come to take you to the dungeon.

Davos: WHAT? WHY?

Axell: For your plot... to KILL LADY MELISANDRE!

Davos: WHAT?! OH NO! HOW DID HE FIGURE OUT MY SECRET PLOT TO KILL LADY MELISANDRE.

Axell: Dude, you keep shouting about it to everyone on this fucking island. It's not that secret.

Davos: Oh right.

ASoS 9: Bran I

Bran is warged into Summer, and the Direwolf climbs up a hill to survey his domain. 

Bran/Summer: Hell yeah, King of the Mountain. Prince of the Green. Duke of New York. A-Number-One.

He looks down below and sees a wolfpack below. It makes him think of his brothers and sisters. 

Bran/Summer: I miss them. They're all gone now. Shaggydog left with Rickon. Grey Wind with Robb. Ghost with Jon. Nymeria went with Arya, but I can sense they they were separated. And Lady... why... I can't feel Lady at all anymore. Like she's gone.

Bran/Summer then smells that the other wolves have made a kill. 

Bran/Summer: Mmm! HELL YEAH! DEAD ANIMAL! I'm there!

He runs down to eat some of the deer flesh, but the leader of the wolves who killed the deer is having none of that.

Alpha Wolf: NO WAY, stupid direwolf. We killed this. It's mine!

Bran/Summer: Yeah, well. I'm bigger than you. So now it's mine.

Alpha Wolf: Oh, it's on like Donkey Kong.

And so the two fight. And fight. And fight. Finally, Bran/Summer wins and the Alpha submits by exposing its belly. 

Bran/Summer: Yeah, that's right! I'm the Alpha now!

Bran starts to tear into the deer flesh when--

*SHAKE*SHAKE*SHAKE*

Bran: AGHHH!

Hodor: Brandon, please awaken from your protracted slumber! Why, I do say! You had magically transported your own consciousness and taken up tenement in the body of your Canis dirus again.

Bran: Huh? What? Canis dirus?

Hodor: Oh, it's Latin for "Direwolf."

Bran: What the hell is Latin?

Hodor: *shrugs*

Bran: I'm so pissed off at you, Hodor! I was eating that delicious deer! It was so good. Raw and bloody. Just how I like it! How many times do I have to tell you not to wake me up?


Meera: Bitch, you've been out for days again. Why do you keep doing this to yourself?

Bran: Where am I?

Meera: In some old ruins of a tower that I found to hide us.

Bran: Wow. I must have been out for a bit.

Jojen: Yeah, man. Like, totally for days, man.  I went through all my stash of reefer while you were gone.

Meera: But you usually do that in about a day or so anyway.

Jojen: I guess. So Bran, did you remember to mark the trees like I told you?

Bran: What?

Jojen: Before you went into the wolf zone. I told you to pee on a bunch of trees.

Bran: Oh yeah. You did tell me to do that. But when I was a wolf I forgot. Quite frankly, I don't care about any of that stupid human shit when I'm a wolf.

Jojen: Duuuuuude. When you are in the wolf you must remember yourself. Or else the wolf will, like, consume you, man.

Bran: Well, I am just nine years old. So don't be too hard on me.

Meera: Anyway, I got you some food. Now eat it, because that hypothetical deer flesh that Summer is eating won't fill your belly. And even if it could... I mean... that's like raw deer meat. You'd probably get all kinds of worms and shit.

Jojen: Well, like, hurry up and eat everyone. We need to move on from here. It's not safe.

Meera: What do you mean that it's not safe? When you smoked the last of your weed... did you have another one of your green dreams? Did you see a vision of us being killed here?

Jojen: Not exactly. But this is not where we are supposed to be. When I get high... the voices tell me to go North!

Bran: Whatever. We're safe. Bran and his armies will come north to protect us.

Jojen: Your Maester didn't think so. At least before Osha mercy killed him.

Bran: Wait... what? I thought she was getting him water!

Meera: Look Jojen, I know you want to go north to find the Three-Eyed Crow. But that's a really, really long way.

Bran: Right. Maybe we could go to the Umbers instead. Or Lord Manderly.

Meera: Ugh. And hear about more Eel Pies? God no. Why would you want to do that?

Jojen: Bran, you're, like, a powerful cat, yo. You need a teacher. Like when the Beatles went to India to take their advanced Transcendental Meditation training course at the ashram of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi.

Bran: You're just saying that because you know the Beatles had a bunch of weed when they did that.

Jojen: It was 1968. Everybody had a bunch of weed.

Bran: Why do I need stupid hippy training anyway?

Jojen: Because, like, your third eye is open now, Bran. Your anja. Your sixth primary chakra.

Bran: Give me a break. Third eyes aren't a real thing.

Hodor: Why sure they are, Brandon!  You can find them on tuatara of New Zealand, most lizards, frogs, salamanders, a diverse array of species of bony fish, sharks, and lampreys

Bran: Oh right. And on that crow that keeps bothering me in my dreams. Anyway, I don't need to go beyond the Wall to meet that crow to teach me. And I don't need to go to India either. You can just teach me, Jojen. You seem to know about this shit.

Jojen: Not really. I may be a greenseer. But I'm not a warg. You're going to need a warg to help you. You need to be able to walk in the foot of any animal. You need to be able to look through the eyes of a weirwood tree.

Bran: Any animal? Wait. Do humans count as animals? Could I warg into a human?

Jojen: I guess.

Bran: Like... could I warg into some girl in the girl's lockeroom at gym and watch Meera get naked?

Meera: You are so fucking nasty, Bran. I'm right here.

Bran: Oh right. I jump out of my body and talk to voices so much, I sort of forget when I'm talking to people that can hear me versus just talking in my head.


Jojen: My point is, like, I can't teach you what I don't know, Bran. So if you want to learn the ways of the Three Eyed Crow, then you need to go to him.

Meera: The choice is yours, Bran. You're the Prince of Winterfell here. We can stay here in the ruined tower and try to wait out the war. We can try to find some of your brother's allies like the Umbers or Manderlys. Or we can go north.


Bran thinks about it. 

Bran: Well, in every direction I go I'm a cripple. Except that Crow tells me that I could fly one day. So maybe we should go to the crow and I can learn to fly. So let's do that.

Meera: Sure thing, Bran.

Bran: Plus that's the way that might teach me the power to see you naked in a locker room.

Meera: YOU'RE TALKING OUT LOUD AGAIN.

ASoS 8: Daenerys I

When last we saw, Dany had boarded three ships in Qarth, with an intended destination of meeting up back with Illyrio in Pentos. 

Dany: Hrm. The narrator said "intended destination." Odd word choice.

Aboard the ship with her is her khalasar. And as you might remember, the Dothraki don't exactly like or trust water. 

Jhogo: *vomits off side of ship*

Aggo: *vomits right on the deck so that everyone will slip on it*

Rakharo: *insane vomiting like you would have never imagined before*

Dany: Yeah, well... they might not like it. But I love this trip. It's so fun! Fun for everyone.

Sailor: Uhmm... excuse me? What do you mean fun for EVERYONE?

The Sailor then grabs ANOTHER bucket of water to put out a fire started by Dany's dragons. Pretty much the entire sail has just been puking Dothraki and sailors trying to prevent the ships from burning down in the middle of the sea from the uncontrolled fire-breathing of Dany's three adolescent dragons. Her dragons, now about dog-sized, are are hitting those awkward "I want to burn everything down for fun" years of dragon childhood development.

Dany: Man. How big are these dragons going to get?

Jorah:  Oh, I'm sure they get pretty big. Probably big enough to kill a kraken.

"Not Barristan:" Actually, they get MUCH bigger than that. Dragons NEVER stop growing, so long as they have food and aren't kept chained down anywhere like the Dragonpit in Kings Landing or... HINT HINT... a basement in Meereen.

Jorah looks angrily at this new "Not Barristan" guy. This white-bearded asshat is always trying to contradict him. Fuck this guy. What is he doing here and why is he trying to mack into his thing with Dany?

Dany: Oh Not Barristan, you seem so knowledgeable about everything related to the Seven Kingdoms! You're so smart!

Jorah: What!? I'm knowledgeable too!

Not Barristan: Thank you, Dany.

Dany: Did you know my father?

Not Barristan: Sure I did.

Dany: Tell me about him!

Not Barristan: Well, he was a sick, murderous fuck.

Dany: Oh... wow. Okay then.

Not Barristan: Your brother, Rhaegar, though. That was a man's man. I knew him as well. He would go to tourneys and play his harp. He and Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword in the Morning, were heroic fighters without their peer.

Jorah: Whatever. This dude is pretending like he knew Aerys and Rhaegar. Big deal. He saw them at some tourneys once. It's not like he's an important character like Barristan Selmy in disguise or anything.

Not Barristan: Speaking of seeing guys at tourneys, I seem to recall someone else winning a tourney once. And falling in love with a younger woman who looked a lot like Dany. And then she drove him completely broke and miserable and he got involved in the slave trade to pay off his debt, but she left him anyway.

Jorah: Well that guy sounds like a bit of an assho---HEEEEEEEEYYY! WAIT A MINUTE!

Not Barristan: Anyway, back to Rhaegar. I remember him as a child. All he wanted to do was read books. He didn't even want to fight. He was an intellectual. Until something changed inside of him and he wanted to become a warrior.

Jorah: Yeah, it's called his BALLS DROPPING.

Not Barristan: Uh, whatever dude. If you'll excuse me, I need to go make sure Strong Belwas is okay and not being weird and shit.

Not Barristan leaves to go check on a useless character that I agree it was a completely good decision to leave out of the TV show.

Jorah: We can't trust those two, Dany. That old man pretending to be a squire... he knows more than he's telling. And that other guy is a eunuch, and you know you can't trust them.


Dany: Yeah, you've told me a million times not to trust them. It's pretty much all you talk about.

Anyway, so the conversation ends and we move on.

Now it's later at night. Dany is back in her cabin and she's feeding her dragons. He's also teaching them how to shoot out fire on her command.

Dany: Dracarys!

Drogon: *breaths fire*

Dany: Hahaha, sweet.

Jorah then invited himself into Dany's bedchamber.

Dany: Dude, what the fuck? I'm in here in my bedchamber, almost totally naked in my PJs. Also, Jhiqui and Irri are in here too, also pretty naked and keeping me company in bed.

Irri: And doing lesbian stuff.

Jhiqui: It is known.

Jorah: That's so hot. But that's not why I came. I came to complain about Not Barristan and Strong Belwas again.

Dany: Ugh. I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT.

Jorah: But remember? The prophesy! It said you would be betrayed THREE TIMES! Once for blood, once for gold, and once for love. Mirri Maz Duur was the first.

Dany: Yes. That was the blood one. And you think Not Barristan and Belwas will be the next to betray me?

Jorah: Indeed. They are working for Illyrio. Not for you. Remember what the next betrayal will be? For gold! Illyrio would sell you out in a second for some gold.

Dany: What? NO WAY! Illyrio would never sell me for gold!

Jorah: Uh. He already did.

Dany: Huh?

Jorah: He literally sold you to the Dothraki once before.

Dany: Oh yeah, right.  I kind of forgot about him selling me as an underage sex slave to a barbarian warlord to rape. But all is forgotten since I wound up falling in love with that barbarian warlord rapist! So it's all okay now!

Jorah: It is really, really not.

Dany: Well, if you don't think we can trust Illyrio... what do we do? We're on his ships that he sent for us... heading back to Pentos!

Jorah: I say we DON'T go to Pentos. Instead we go to Astapor, in the Slaver's Bay. Then we buy some Unsullied eunuch slave warriors.

Dany: Wow, again with you and the slavery.

Jorah: No, hear me out here! They are world renowned for their strength and invincibility! Have you ever heard the story of the Three Thousand of Qohor? Three thousand Unsullied held off a force of twenty thousand Dothraki attackers!

Dany: This just sounds like a recycled version of "300" with another zero added.

Jorah: Maybe. But with all those troops - we could simply sail to the Seven Kingdoms and take it back! Besides, all these soldiers will help to protect you. Remember that the false King in Westeros put a bounty out on your head. You're not invincible. Even dragons die.

Dany: Cryptic. Why would you say that to me? And no, I obviously haven't forgotten that there is a contract out on my head. Grrrr! It makes me so angry! All that money to kill me? How rude! I bet there are tons of people out there who could be tempted into betraying me for that kind of moolah. If I ever figure out that any people working for me are presently or EVER HAVE BEEN employed by the false kings of Westeros to betray me... why... I don't know what I'd do! Something nasty though.

Jorah: *sweats nervously*

Dany: And where am I going to get money to buy a bunch of slaves anyway?

Jorah: From here... all the riches on board Illyrio's three ships!

Dany: So Jorah, let me get this straight. I'm stuck at the end of the fucking earth in horrible Qarth were everyone in the city is trying to murder me. I'm almost  killed by some scorpion thing when these two guys show up to save my life. The two guys work for Illyrio, who sent three ships to save me and take me back to Pentos. Illyrio who helped raise me for several years and protect me. And your plan is to STEAL EVERYTHING FROM HIM?

Jorah: Well, if he is truly loyal to you and your cause, then it's not stealing. He will be GLAD that you are buying an army to attack the Seven Kingdoms.

Dany: That's still a really messed up plan, but I kind of like it.

Jorah: I knew you'd see things my way. Now let's have sex!

Jorah pretty much jumps on top of her and starts kissing her against her will.

Dany kicks him in the balls.

Dany: Whoa now, Donald Trump. I am your queen. You should not have done that.

Jorah: No, I should have done it long ago!

Dany: Gross.

Jorah: Surely must remember the prophesy that "The Dragon Has Three Heads," right?  When these three dragons are grown, you will need two others to help you ride them.

Dany: That's a bit of a non sequitur, but okay. I had two brothers but they are both dead.

Jorah: So why not take up a husband? Drogo is dead too. You need to get over him and marry again. I can be one of your Dragon riders! Marry me! No man in the world will be half as loyal to me as you!

Dany: Geez, you just do NOT get the friend zone, do you?

ASoS 7: Jon I

When last we saw Jon snow, he was forced to "betray" the Night's Watch by murdering Qhorin Halfhand and defecting to the Free People AKA Wildings. But this betrayal was actually orded by Qhorin. Jon Snow must now become a double agent -- pretending to join the Wildlings while simultaniously still being loyal to the Watch.  Matters are complicated by the fact that: 

a) there is this really cute Wildling girl named Ygritte that seems to want to have all types of sex with him, and 

b) there is this really annoying Wildling guy named the Lord O' Bones AKA Rattleshirt that is not buying this Jon Snow defection for one minute and wants to kill him. 

Jon descends with his new Wildling "allies" to their camp below. There, he plans to meet the King Beyond the Wall, Mance Rayder.

Rattleshirt: Well Jon Snow, how do you feel about me taking your friend Qhorin's bones? I'm wearing them now as part of my outfit. Perhaps that makes you angry. Very, very angry?

Jon: *seething on the inside*  No, no of course not, Lord of Bones. I'm totally fine with that.

Rattleshirt: HA! No you're not. You might be fooling everyone else, but you're not fooling me. And you won't fool Mance. As soon as you get to him, he'll see right through you and order you to be executed.

Ygritte: No way, Rattleshirt! Ol' Mance will take Jon in. No question. As soon as he hears that Jon here killed the Halfhand... he'll know he's one of us Free Folk now!

Jon: Free Folk, huh? So you're all really free?

Ygritte: Yeah.

Jon: Then why do you have a king?

Ygritte: I dunno. I only have the vaguest notion of how social contract theory works.

Jon: But let's say I decide to leave. That means I'm free to do so?

Ygritte: Sure you will.

Jon: Oh, sweet.

Ygritte: And we'll also be free to kill you.

Jon: Ah, I see how this works now.

Ygritte: You're also free to do other things. You know. If you want.

Ygritte puts her hand on his thigh. 

Ygritte: And by that, I mean we can fuck.

Jon: Oh, I got it. Trust me. I got it.

As they get to the bottom of the hill, they meet another one of the Free Folk...

Weeper: Hi. I'm the Weeper. I carry around a bit scythe.

Jon: You mean like the Grim REAPER?

Weeper: Right. Except it's "Weeper," not "Reaper."

Jon: So basically, you're the Grim Reaper with a speech impediment?

Weeper: SHUT UP, WARG!

Jon: Do I have to remember who you are?

Weeper: Not really.

And so Jon continues into the large camp of the Free Folk.  There seem to be no fortifications or organization like a war camp in Westeros. It's just a bunch of random tents in random places. But that's what you get with freedom, I guess. 

Jon is led into the big tent in the middle, which clearly must belong to the King Beyond the Wall. Ygritte and Rattleshirt follow him in.

Jon: Hrm. There are a bunch of people in the tent. But which one is Mance Rayder?  There are like 40 new characters being introduced here. There is some pregnant woman. Some giant bald guy without ears. A lute player. Some dude who looks sort of like Santa Claus.

The giant bald guy turns around and looks at Jon. 

Bald, Earless Guy: Who the fuck are you?

Jon kneels down in front of him. 

Jon: Sorry for interrupting you, your grace.

Everyone in the tent gets quiet for a second. And then they burst into laughter. 

Santa-Looking Guy: AH-hahahaha. Oh MAN. I can't believe you thought that was Mance. That's just Styr, the Magnar of Thenn.

Jon: What the hell is a Magnar of Thenn?

Styr: It's the title held by the leader of the Thenns, a tribe of free folk from the Thenn valley beyond the Wall. It roughly translates to, "lord." So I'm the lord of the Thenn tribe.

Jon: Oh. Why didn't you just say that then?  And who the fuck is Santa Claus here. Are YOU Mance Rayder?

Santa-Looking Guy: No! For I am Tormund Giantsbane, Tall-talker, Horn-blower, Breaker of Ice, Tormund Thunderfist, Husband to Bears, the Mead-king of Ruddy Hall, Speaker to Gods, and Father of Hosts.

Jon: First of all, that's waaaaay too many nicknames. Second - HOLY SHIT! In the books Tormund looks like Santa Claus? Tormund is a fat, shortish, jolly, old man with a white beard?

Tormund: Yes.

Jon: I... I... I can't deal with this. Here. Give me a minute.

Jon grabs Tormund, puts him on a treadmill to lose a bunch of weight, puts some stilts in his shoes to make him taller, dyes his hair red, and injects botox into him to make him look a little younger. 

Jon: There. Much better.

Tormund: Thanks?

Jon: And why do they call you "Husband to Bears?"

Tormund: Because I fuck bears. 

Jon: Ah, well I suppose that makes sense. So who the fuck is Mance Rayder if neither of you? Is that pregnant woman Mance Rayder? That would actually be pretty progressive.  Sweet god, tell me it's not the fucking lute player.

Lute Player: Yes. I'm Mance Rayder.

Jon: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccck.

Mance: And you are Ned Stark's bastard son.

Jon: WHAT? How the hell do you know who I am?

Mance: I hear you slew the Halfhand. Is it true?

Jon: Uh... yep.

Mance: You know, the Halfhand was my enemy... but he was also my friend. Before I left the Watch he and him were buddies. But after, we were at war. So tell me... what should I do with you, Jon Snow? Should I thank you for killing my enemy... or curse you for killing my friend?

Jon: Why not both?

Tormund: DING DING DING! Right answer!

Mance: Indeed. So Jon Snow, tell me about the rest of your party. How did a boy from Castle Black come to be with a party of rangers from the Shadow Tower?

Jon wonders how he should answer. Should he lie to protect the motives of the Watch? Or should he tell the truth, to further go undercover and earn the trust of the Free Folk. He decides to lie. 

Jon: Oh, you know. Lord Mormont just sent me out for seasoning.

Styr: *cough*BULLSHIT*cough*

Mance: And how is it that my men found you on the Skirling Pass? If you were just out for seasoning, then how is it that you coincidentally wound up by the high ground by our secret gathering location?

Tormund: I bet that punk ass Craster sold us out and told him where we were at!

Mance: *sigh* Damn it guys, I know that. It's obvious that Jon was lying and that the Watch are coming for us. It's obvious that Craster told them were to find us. But I didn't want YOU to tell me that. I wanted to see if Jon was going to tell us himself.

Tormund: Oh. Sorry. Uhm. I guess we should just leave then and let you interrogate him alone, huh?

Mance nods. Everyone else leaves. On the way out, Tormund grabs a whole chicken off of Mance's rotisserie grill and sticks it in his pocket. BECAUSE CHICKEN IS DELICIOUS. 

Jon: Weird. Who has pockets big enough to stick whole roasted chickens into?

Pregnant Woman: Not me... right? Hahaha, I mean women's pockets are so small! Completely nonfunctional.  Just for decoration. WHY?! WHY CAN'T WOMEN GET WORKING POCKETS?!

Other Women in the Room: Amen, sister!

They all high five and nod their heads. 

Mance: Oh, that's my wife by the way, Della.

Jon: Oh, hi Della.

Della: Hi.

Jon: So are YOU important in the books?

Della: Slightly more important than in the show, yes. Readers should pay attention to the fact that I am pregnant, as this will be important going forward.

Jon: Cool. So Mance, all this food I see is making me hungry. Can I have some bread or something?

Mance: Sure.

Jon grabs some bread and eats it. 

Jon: SWEET! I just broke bread with Mance. It's a Westeros tradition that means now he can't kill me while I'm his guest. It would be literally IMPOSSIBLE to kill someone after breaking bread with them.

Mance:  I wasn't planning on killing you anyway, so it's odd that you're suddenly focusing on that factoid.

Jon: Yes. Odd indeed. Almost as if the concept of breaking the bond of bread and guest rights will be important later in this book. ANYWAY... Mance, you never told me how you knew who I was.

Mance: Oh, it's because I've seen you twice before.

Jon: Neat-o. When?

Mance: Remember when you and Robb were boys and you were building a giant mountain of snow above one of the gates to Winterfell? You were going to knock it over on the next person who walked through the gate as a hilarious prank?

Jon: Oh yeah. That was HILARIOUS! Oh shit... wait... YOU! I remember. You're that guy who caught us in the middle of planning our prank. We thought we were done for and that you were going to tell our father about it!  But instead you were like, "Nah kids. That's hilarious. I ain't no snitch!"

Mance: Yes. That's right. Snitches get stitches.

Jon: Right. Or put in ditches. WOW. I can't believe that was you. And you remembered what I looked like after all these years?

Mance: Not really. Remember, I said I've seen you twice. The second time was not that long ago... and again, I was in Winterfell. When your King from the South, Robert, came to visit Winterfell.

Jon: You gotta be shitting me. Really?

Mance: Yes. I wanted to size up this King with my own eyes. So I came south, disguised as... a lute player!

Jon: Oh. Lame.

Mance: WHAT?

Jon: I mean it's sort of lame. A lute player?

Mance: It's like that famous tale. Bael the Bard. The Lute-Playing King Beyond the Wall.

Jon: Oh, I get it. I get it. It's just lame. Also, I feel like this plot development wasn't pre-planned ahead of time. I feel like if this was part of GRRM's master plan from the beginning, he would have made more of a big deal about some lute player in my first POV chapter.

Mance: What? No! Surely I'm a big deal.

Jon: If you say so.

Mance: So kid, what made you decide to betray the Watch?

Jon thinks again. How he answers this question will be very important.

Jon: You tell me your reason and I'll tell you mind.

Mance: Ah, kind of weird that I hold life and death over your shoulders and you're still talking to me like that, but I'll bite.  I didn't leave for a crown or for a woman like some romantic song would make people think. I left because of a convoluted story involving a silk mending made to my coat and an epiphany about how the silk mending, which was against Night's Watch dress code, represented freedom.

Jon: You know what? On second thought I don't want to hear your story if it's that convoluted. I'll just tell you my reason. If you were REALLY there the night King Robert feasted at Winterfell... then you'll remember where my brothers are sisters were seated. And then you'll remember where I was seated.

Mance: Oh yeah, I remember where you were at. You were SHIT FACED and LOUD AS FUCK. Everyone noticed your rowdy ass.

Jon: Yeah, that's not the point. The point is... I'm a bastard. And I'll always be treated like a bastard by the laws of my people. I'll always be a second-class citizen. Even in the Watch. Here, among the Free Folk... you don't care about that kind of shit. I can be my own man. 

Mance: Haha, fuck yeah! That's a great answer, Jon Snow. High Five! And welcome to the Free Folk! You're going to want to get a new cloak though. That black shit don't fly here. You might want to get a cloak with some nice, pretty, vibrant silk mending.

Jon: Dude, I do not need to hear about this weird silk fetish of yours.

ASoS 6: Sansa I

Sansa: Oh wow, I got an invitation to dine with Margaery Tyrell. But should I accept it? Can I trust these Tyrells?  Why would this woman who is taking my place as Joffrey’s bethrothed want to dine with a traitor’s daughter like me?  Is it really from Margaery? Or is this some plot by Joffrey to further humiliate me?  If only the Hound were still here, he could protect me. And/or almost rape me. You know. Life for women is sort of terrible, fickle and unpredictable for women in medieval societies.

After thinking about it, Sansa figures she’s probably not allowed to refuse the offer anyway. Margaery is going to be the queen after all. Can you refuse an invitation from a queen? She accepts the invitation and sends the letter back.

When the day comes to meet Margaery, it is Loras Tyrell who knocks on the door to escort her on the way over.

Sansa opens the door and sees him.

Sansa: Damn boy. You still look good. *licks lips*

Loras: Creepy.

Sansa: Sorry. I don’t know how to speak properly around guys when we both have unrelenting sexual tension between one another, if you know what I mean. *winks*

Loras: I’m sorry… have we met before?

Sansa: Hahaha, oh… you kidder, you! Always so funny, Loras!

Loras: …

Sansa: Anyway, will you be joining me for the dinner with Margaery? Maybe we can play footsie under the table.

Loras: No. But my grandma, Olenna, will be joining you.

Sansa: Oh yeah… The Queen of Thorns!

Loras: Yikes. You know, typically people don’t call my grandma that derogatory nickname in front of my face.

Sansa: Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I warned you! I told you I get so tongue tied when I’m around you. I didn’t mean any offense.

Loras: Again… who the hell are you?

Sansa: COME ON, LORAS! You know me! Remember that there was that Tournament in celebration of my father when he became the Hand of the King? You fought Ser Robar Royce! And you won your battle and came to the crowd and handed me a red flower, telling me how beautiful I was.

Loras’s face immediately turns white.

Sansa: What? Do you not remember that? REALLY?

Loras: Uhm… well… thanks for bringing up Robar. You know I MURDERED HIM IN A FIT OF RAGE a few months ago, right? When he failed to protect Renly from being killed.

Sansa: Oh. My bad. Looks like I brought up a sore topic. I didn’t mean to! I just wanted to remind you of that time you told me how beautiful I was. Because how much you really are sexually interested in women, especially me.

Loras: Yes. Riiiiiight. Sexually interested in women. That’s me. Loras Tyrell. Attracted to women. Say… I got a fun game we can play together. How about for the rest of our walk to Margaery you SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DON’T SAY ANOTHER WORD.

And so they walk in silence the rest of the way.

Loras drops Sansa off when they get there, and Margaery greets her with kindness.

Margaery: Sansa! What a pleasure it is to meet you! I hope we can become best friends! Just like sisters!  Here, I’d like to introduce you to all these other characters!

And Margaery introduces Sansa to all these other characters. But none of them are important, so I’m not going to bother to mention them. Except for…

Lady Olenna: WHAT’S UP BITCHES? QUEEN OF THORNS IN DA HOUSE!

Sansa: See? She calls herself the Queen of Thorns. Why do I get in trouble for saying it?

Lady Olenna pushes someone out of their chair and takes their seat, even though there were a number of perfectly good open chairs. Lady Olenna DON’T GIVE A FUCK.

Olenna: Sansa, I’m so sorry for all your losses. Your father. Your brothers. So sad.

Sansa: Yes. And, uhm… I guess my condolences for Renly.

Olenna: Renly? Hahaha! Fuck that loser! He thought just because he dressed well that he could be a King!

Margaery: GRANDMOTHER! I was married to him. And Loras was very close to him. You should be a little nicer.

Olenna: Loras was close to him, huh? NOW THAT’S AN UNDERSTATEMENT IF I EVER HEARD ONE.

Margaery: Father liked Renly too, grandma.

Olenna: Well, your father is an idiot. I wish a giant spoon could magically appear in my hand whenever he appears so that I could beat him in his stupid head with it. Maybe that would knock some sense into him. I honestly should have had an abortion rather than give birth to his dumb ass.

Margaery: GRANDMOTHER!!!

Sansa: Man, I really love this Olenna character.

Olenna: Everyone does, Sansa. Everyone does. Anyway, Renly’s claim to the throne was ludicrous. Robert had two sons and a brother in the line ahead of him. Although to be honest, the Tyrell family’s own claim to Highgarden is itself pretty dubious. It belonged to House Gardener until Aegon’s Conquest. But when Aegon’s dragons burned the last of the Gardeners to dust… well… that ended that. Anyway, my dumbass son was pretty quick to jump onto team Renly despite that ludicrous claim. All he thought about was Renly putting his dick into Margaery here and getting some grandsons out of it that would one day sit on the Iron Throne.

Margaery: GRANDMOTHER!!!

Olenna: Now where is my squire? SQUIRE! SQUIRE!

Butterbumps: Yes, Lady. I’m here.

Olenna: Wow. Your name is Butterbumps? That’s terrible. Anyway, play some loud music, sing some loud songs, and dance around like a moron so that you can distract everyone else.  I need to have a private conversation with Sansa here.

Butterbumps: Sure thing.

The jester goes off and does that. Everyone else watches the show while Olenna and Margaery crowd in closer to Sansa.

Olenna: Okay, now that any spies that are around can’t hear us… tell us about Joffrey, Sansa.

Sansa: Uhhhm… I… uhh…

Margaery: Go on! You can tell the truth.

Sansa is worried though. She feared a trap before. Is this the trap?

Sansa: Joffrey is… uhm… handsome and brave.

Olenna: Oh, don’t give that shit to me. I know when someone is lying. You can be frank with me.

Sansa: Okay. Hello, I’m Frank.

Olenna: Hahaha, good one. But fuck you. Look, I’m being honest with you. You can be honest with me. Is Joffrey kind? Will he treat my daughter well? No harm will come to you if you tell the truth.

Sansa: Joffrey is… is… is… A FUCKING MONSTER. He had his knights beat me all the time. He promised me that he would spare my father’s life and then made me watch as he was executed. He made me look at his severed head on a pike.

Olenna: Ah. Well, that’s a pity. But I can’t say that I haven’t heard rumors confirming the same.

Sansa: Please, please don’t call off the wedding!

Olenna: Oh. There is no way that my idiot son Mace will do that.  He still sees his chance to get some kingly baby batter shot up into Margaery’s twat. Doesn't matter which king. He probably doesn’t even care if she gets beat, so long as he is grandfather to a King.

Margaery: GRANDMOTHER!!! I’m right here! Stop talking about men inseminating me.

Olenna: Please, girl. I was a wild woman back in my day. Just because I’m a grandmother now doesn’t mean that I don’t know about sex. I had trains run on me left and right and I loved every minute of it.

Margaery: Ugh… gross, gross, gross! Must burn this out of my mind! ANYWAY… changing the subject… Sansa… how would you like to visit Highgarden?

Sansa: Ooooh! That would be lovely!  But the Queen will never let me.

Olenna: The queen will if the Tyrells ask it of her.  And that way, we can see you safely wed to my grandson.

Sansa: Wait… WHAT?

Olenna: Yeah. We got to get you out of this shithole, King’s Landing. We’re going to whisk you away to the safety and protection of Highgarden.  And when you’re there, you can marry my grandson. That will keep you protected from the wrath of Joffrey.

Sansa: You mean I get to marry… LORAS?!

Sansa’s eyes are replaced with hearts like in that emoji. She starts to float up in the heavens, imagining her beautiful future husband, the Knight of Flowers.

Olenna: Hahaha… Loras? No! You crazy girl. Remember? Loras joined the Kingsguard. That means he may never wed. Besides, he’s not even the oldest son and heir to Highgarden. That’s Willas.

Sansa: Oh. Who is Willas? Have I met him? Has he been in these books before?

Olenna: Look, I’m going to be honest with you. He’s a cripple. Which means that you’re going to have to be on top of him for all the copulation. Ridin’ Cowgirl.

Margaery: GRANDMOTHER!!! Stop talking about your grandchildren having sex.

Olenna: WHAT? You’re such a prude, Margaery.  Anyway, Willas has a good heart though.

Sansa: I… I don’t know… I mean… I…

Sansa is hesitant. Why are these Tyrells (who she just met) being kind to her? Why do they want to help her out? Do they have some ulterior motive?

Olenna: Well, you have some time to think about it. As soon as Joffrey and Margery’s wedding is over, I intend to leave back to Highgarden. And I hope you come with me, Sansa.

ASoS 5: Davos I

Davos is on a tiny island. By himself. He’s been stranded here for days. Maybe weeks. Who can tell? Time is hard to judge when you’re alone, dehydrated and starving. He sees a ship in the distance. Should he hail it down? What side is the ship on?  Will it be men loyal to Stannis who will save him? Or will it be men loyal to Joffrey who will kill him? Does he even deserve to live when so many of his sons are already dead?  Perhaps he should die now himself.

Davos flashes back, remembering the night of the battle. He watched as his sons’ ships were consumed with wildfire. He was washed out to sea, escaping the chain and the wreckage of ships. He had almost drowned a number of times until he finally lost consciousness. Then he woke up, washed up on this small bit of rocks in the middle of nowhere.

Davos reaches for his little pouch of finger bones that he wore around his neck for good luck. But they’re gone. Lost at sea.

Davos: This sucks. I pray to the Mother for mercy.

Mother: Nah. You and your people on Team Stannis burned my statue. I ain’t helping your ass.

Davos: That was Melisandre! Melisandre! It wasn’t me! Wait… am I hearing the voice of a god and answering back? Have I gone completely mad on this island by myself?

“Yes” is probably the answer to that question. But he knows Mel’s guilt isn’t hers alone. He shared in that guilt. He did nothing as they burned the statues to the seven gods. He even helped row Melisandre to Storm’s End to help her give birth to that smoke baby. He stood by and did nothing as Maester Cressen died. He’s an accomplice to all these horrors of Mel and her red god.

Davos: You know what? Fuck it. I’m just going to hail this ship and see what happens.

Davos pulls out a flare gun, because let’s just say that those things exist and Davos had one on his body when he was washed out to sea.

The ship must have seen the flare, because it begins to come closer. As it approaches, Davos sees that the ship is Lyseni in design. Lyseni like Salladhor Saan… who was fighting for Stannis’s side. Or at least in principle the Lyseni were on Stannis’s side, if they had been paid. Stannis wasn’t really good at paying.

Ship Captain: Who the hell are you?

Davos: A knight and a captain in the battle. I was stranded on this island.

Captain: Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. But on WHICH SIDE did you fight?

Davos is pretty sure that these guys are Team Stannis… but not 100% sure. If he says the wrong thing… they could kill him on the spot.

Davos: Oh hell… I mean I guess I would have just drowned in the ocean if GRRM intended me to die. Why bother bringing me back for one POV chapter if I’m just going to be executed? So I’m going to go head and risk it… good ship Captain… I am Davos Seaworth, and I am a servant to King Stannis Baratheon.

Captain: Well, we’re Lannisters... so time to execute you now.

Davos: NOOOOOO!!!!!

Captain: HAHAHAHA, oh man. You should have seen the look on your face. Classic. Just kidding, bro. We are servants to King Stannis too. Now get your crusty, sunburned-looking ass on board.

Davos: *whew*

ASoS 4: Tyrion I

Bronn: Yo, whattup Tyrion?

Tyrion: Oh, Bronn. I see you’ve got a cool new outfit. A knight’s outfit. With a symbol of a burning chain.

Bronn: Yeah, I’m totally a knight now. You know, for my heroism in the defense of the Blackwater. That’s my new knightly sigil.

Tyrion: You know, I’m the one that came up with the whole chain and fire plan for the defense of the city. Why don’t I get a new, awesome, nightly sigil?

Bronn: Because you already have one. Remember? The whole lion thing.

Tyrion: Ah right. So... do you have any updates about what I missed when I was in a drug-induced coma for probably several months after having my nose cut off?

Bronn: Sure thing. Remember your boy Ser Jacelyn Bywater… the Commander of the City Watch?

Tyrion: Yeah. Totally trustworthy and honest that guy is.

Bronn: Well, he’s dead. Betrayed by his own men as they defected and fled like cowards during the Battle of the Blackwater. Addam Marbrand now controls the Gold Cloaks.

Tyrion: Oh. That sucks. Speaking of people who fled like cowards… what ever happened to the Hound after he quit and I had to lead the charge that he was supposed to?

Bronn: He’s gone. Just straight up gone. Vanished without a trace.

Tyrion: Where are all your sellsword buddies?

Bronn: Dead or gone.

Tyrion: Where are all my Vale Clansmen?

Bronn: The ones who didn’t die either left on their own after getting plunder or were forced out of the city by your father.

Tyrion: Alayaya, the underage ebony hooker that didn’t snitch on me or Shae... and thus got beaten and imprisoned by my sister?

Bronn: Cersei finally released her. But not before having the hell whipped out of her.

Tyrion: Hrm. I promised to Cersei that I would do to Tommen what she did to Yaya. But that’s pretty much an empty threat because no way would I actually do that to an eight year old boy.

Bronn: Well, even if you wanted to… you couldn’t. You don’t have Tommen anymore. As soon as Bywater was dead, Cersei sent the Kettlebacks to retrieve Tommen.

Tyrion: Man, I missed A LOT. What is this I hear about Renly’s Ghost showing up to the battle?

Bronn: If you ask me, it’s a bunch of bullshit. But there are a bunch of people who swear they saw it.

Tyrion: Great. Just great. So the REAL reason that the city is saved is because my master plan with the chains and fire. And yet all the credit is going to be given instead to a guy who has been dead for months. Ain’t that just a kick in the head?

Bronn: Are you quoting Sinatra?

Tyrion: Dude, get your Rat Pack straight. It’s Dean Martin. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. So I take it Stannis is dead?

Bronn: Nope. He was a giant pussy and he never sailed his ship past the delta of the Blackwater and to the chain. So his boat turned around and fled as soon as shit got crazy. He’s probably back at Dragonstone now, licking his wounds.

Tyrion: Robb Stark?

Bronn: Marching towards Duskendale. Your father is sending Lord Tarly to face him.

Tyrion: Cool. I think I’m all caught up now with the plot exposition. So you can keep a secret for me… right?

Bronn: Sure.

Tyrion: Mandy Moore tried to kill me.

Bronn: She almost kills me every time I see her try to act. I don’t care how many Emmys they give that shitty “This is Us” TV show, it is unbearable, sappy melodrama. And all that storytelling through flashbacks nonsense? Ugh.

Tyrion: No, the OTHER Mandy Moore. You must find out everything you can about his motives. Who paid him off. Why.

Bronn: I mean yeah… we could launch an investigation into why Mandy Moore tried to kill you. But I can straight up tell you that GRRM is going to abandon that storyline without ever providing a solid resolution or answer.

Tyrion: Whatever. Now I need to go see my father. But I’m in no condition to walk. So I need you and Podrick to carry me up the stairs to the Tower of the Hand. Trust me… it’s going to be INCREDIBLY EMBARRASSING for me.

And so the two help him to the Hand’s offices.  As they approach, they run into Ser Addam Marbrand.

Ser Addam: Oh, look who it is! Mr. Imp isn’t dead… and is somehow able to stumble his way here.

Tyrion: Shut up. I need to see my dad.

Addam: Okay, but he’s not in a good mood. Your cousin Tyrek has vanished in some sort of crazy mob.

Bronn: Well, then he’s dead.

Addam: Yeah, I mean probably.

Tyrion limps into the Tower of the Hand. His father stands over a giant board game of Risk: Westeros that Tywin has set up to reflect the ongoing battles. He’s writing some sort of letter to someone. Bronn and Pod are dismissed.

Tywin: Dafuq do you want?

Tyrion: I kind of want my chambers back. But you seem to have taken them.

Tywin: Well, I’m the Hand of the King now, so they’re MY chambers. You were really only ever acting Hand anyway. Also, you look like shit.

Tyrion: No kidding.

Tywin: Just what in the hell possessed you to make you think it would be a good idea to lead the foolish charge at the Mud Gate anyway?

Tyrion: Foolish? You know, if Jaime had led the charge you would have called it “bravery.”

Tywin: Yeah, well, Jaime is actually good at fighting though. And he’d never be so stupid as to do something like, oh, take his helmet off in the middle of the war so that he could het half of his face cut off.

Tyrion: So I see you whipped out the giant battle map.  I also hear from Bronn that Robb Stark is attacking Duskendale. What’s up with that? And what letter are you writing to who about what?

Tywin: Do you really want to talk battle strategy with me? Or are you just making small talk? Get to your damn point, Tyrion.

Tyrion: Uhhh… some GRATITUDE would be nice. You know, for the chain and wildfire thing. For saving the entire city.

Tywin: Really? Because when my forces showed up the entire city was on fire and every gold cloak and solider was defecting. It was my own attack on Stannis’s flank that actually turned the tide and won the battle. But I guess that chain thing was cute.

Tyrion: I hate you, dad.

Tywin: You know what WASN’T cute? That deal you made with the Martells while I was out righting. Sending Myrcella away to be a hostage?

Tyrion: Really? You think that making sure that Dorne remained our allies and sided with us was a bad idea? Okay. Fine. You’re entitled to your WRONG opinion.

Tywin: Anything else you want to get off your chest while you’re being a little whiny bitch?

Tyrion: You declaring me as the heir to Casterly Rock would be cool. Jaime has taken up vows and as a knight can’t have children or be your heir. That leaves me.

Tywin: HAHAHAHAHA… you’re serious, huh? You think I’d let you… a deformed fucking imp that killed my dear wife with your hideous birth… be the HEIR TO CASTERLY ROCK? So that you could fill it with whores and savages? No way.  You’re lucky that you were born a Lannister in the first place. If you were born anywhere else they would have thrown you off the cliff.

Tyrion: Geez. I see you worked in a whoring reference in there. This is really still all about whores to you, huh? I bet you’re the one who had Yaya whipped instead of Cersei then. You need to get over that whore stuff, old man.

Tywin: Nope. The next whore I catch you with will be hanged.

Tyrion: Ah, okay. I can see where this plotline is going.

ASoS 3: Arya I

Arya rides north with her best friends, Gendry and Hot Pie.

Arya: Actually, I don’t like Hot Pie that much. He’s just here for the ride.

Hot Pie: HEY!

Arya: I do like Gendry though. *licks lips*

Gendry: *looks back nervously*

Arya: Anyway, if Roose Bolton catches us… we’re DEAD! But you know what? I don’t even care no more. Forget that guy.

As the three ride, they come upon a group of wolves eating a dead stag.

Arya: I bet that’s not supposed to be symbolic at all.

They back away slowly, since while she might be a Stark “wolf” she’s not actually a wolf wolf and wolves don’t really take kindly to people interfering with their meals.

They continue on and find an apple tree.

Arya: I’m so hungry! I’m going to eat one of these apples. YUM!

Hot Pie: Gross Arya! There are dead people hanging from this tree.

Gendry: Yeah, it’s a bit disturbing that you would eat an apple from a tree with lynched people.

Arya: If anything, it makes the apple even tastier.

The two guys look at each other and then look at Arya’s cold, dead eyes and know she’s probably telling the truth. Gendry tries to break up the nervous tension.

Gendry: So where are we heading for again?

Arya: North! Towards Riverrun. We’ll be safe there.

Hot Pie: Why? Why would we be safe at Riverrun?

Gendry: Duh. Because her mom is there. This girl is Ar—

Arya hits him.

Gendry: Ouch! Oh. Is your identity still supposed to be a secret? Damnit. I keep forgetting. Why is it that we haven’t told Hot Pie yet?

Arya: For dramatic effect with a later reveal!

Gendry: How do you know this way is north?

Arya: Duh, you handsome dipshit. Moss grows on the trees on the south side. So the opposite side is north.

Hot Pie: Oh good. I thought for a minute you were about to say we were following some dumb comet in the sky.

And so they keep heading in the direction of Riverrun. Or at least in what Arya HOPES is the direction of Riverrun. That map she stole from Roose Bolton is helpful… but Arya isn’t exactly fucking Magellan here.

Arya: Ugh. So frustrating. We’re going too slow. If we go any slower, Bolton’s men will catch us.  You two need to speed up.

Hot Pie: Oh, well I’m sorry that a blacksmith apprentice and a fat boy who makes pies aren’t exactly expert horse-riders and can’t go as fast as you on Barbaro over there.

Arya: RIP Barbaro.

Despite Arya’s urge to ride ahead and leave these slow-pokes behind, she knows she can’t because she needs them to stay safe. Also, she likes gawking at Gendry.

Finally, they reach a river.

Hot Pie: This must be the Trident! Horray! We’re almost there.

Arya: No way. It will take us DAYS to reach the Trident. This is just one of the little tributaries that connects to it. See? Look! On the map. It’s one of these. We need to cross it to get to the Trident.

Gendry: Yeah… but WHICH one of the rivers is it? If it’s THIS one, then we need to go up the river. But if it’s THAT one, then we need to go down the river.

Arya: Whatever. We’ll figure it out. I’m going to ford the river.

Gendry: Surely we should caulk the wagon and float it across.

Hot Pie: Maybe we should take a ferry across. Or hire an Indian guide. Or wait for conditions to improve.

Arya: Wait… didn’t we already make these jokes earlier?

Everyone shrugs. It’s been a long time since they were last out in the wilderness, trying to cross rivers and shit. Harrenhal was mentally and physically exhausting. Who can blame them for recycling jokes? Besides, if you recycle a joke… you can just claim it’s a witty and intentional running joke. Rather than admitting you’re a lazy writer.

Arya fords the river. The other two follow. They lose 206 bullets and a wagon axle, so all things considered… a pretty good job with no deaths.

They ford another river after that, and Arya just won’t stop.

Gendry: Dude, I’m exhausted! We need to stop and rest!

Arya: No way! Resting is for giant losers who want to be killed by Lord Bolton. We need to keep going! I refuse to rest!

Arya then immediately falls asleep on her horse. The horse, without anyone to steer it, starts to walk in circles.

Minutes later, Arya wakes up.

Arya: AGH! I wasn’t sleeping! Wasn’t sleeping! No… just… resting my eyes. That’s all.

Gendry: Bitch, your horse was going in circles.

Arya: No it wasn’t!

Gendry: The narrator says it was.

Arya: Damnit. Okay. Maybe we can stop for a LITTLE bit and sleep.

They halt the horses and lay down to rest for a while.  Arya falls asleep.

In her dream, she is a wolf.

Wolf Arya: HELL YEAH! I have wolf dreams in the book… just like Bran! Jon Snow does too! All us Starks are wargs in the books. Or at least semi-wargs. I can’t believe they left that out of the show. I wonder if I’m inside of Nymeria right now.  No… wait… that came out wrong.

Nymeria/Arya hunts the Bloody Mummers with her pack of wolves.  The Bloody Mummers think that they are the ones hunting the wolves. But it’s actually quite the opposite.

Iggo, a Blood Mummer / Brave Companion: Man… Lord Bolton wants us to hunt these wolves, but I don’t see any around here anywh—

Nymeria/Arya jumps onto Iggo and tears his arm clean off.

Iggo: AGGHH!!! AGHHH!!!!!!

Nymeria/Arya: THIS FLESH IS SO DELICIOUS!

ASoS 2: Catelyn I

Cat Stark is a prisoner at Riverrun. Her decision to free Jaime Lannister has, needless to say, been criticized by every other human being with a brain and common sense. 

Riverrun's master-at-arms, Ser Desmond Grell, and steward, Utherydes Wayn, have been given the wonderful responsibility for looking after her and making sure she remains confined in her father's rooms. She looks after her ailing dad, Hoster. 

Desmond: Hey, you know I don't like keeping you locked up. But it is what it is.

Cat: Yeah, I get it. If you guys don't punish me, they'll say you were complicit and helped me.

Utherydes: It was all for naught though, Cat. Ser Robin Ryger has been sent after Jaime. He'll catch him!

Cat: Not if Brienne has anything to say about that!

Later, Cat sits by her father's bedside. He wakes up and starts moaning, only semi-lucid.

Hoster: Tansy! Tansy! Oh, forgive me! Blood! Blood! Dead! Forgive me! You'll have other babes. Trueborn.

Cat: OH SHIT! Who the fuck is Tansy? I've never heard that name before. Sounds like some sort of nasty-ass miscarriage story. Is that some girlfriend he once had but never told us about? Is it some nickname for my sister?

Hoster: ...

Cat: Hey, Maester Vyman! Do you know who Tansy is?

Vyman: No clue. There has never been a Tansy at Riverrun.

Cat: Okay, whatever. Any news from my son?

Vyman: Cat, you know I'm not supposed to tell you anything about what's going on. You're sort of a prisoner.

Cat: Pleeeeeaaaaaase! PLEASE!

Vyman: Okay. I mean, I guess I could tell you a little.  Your son has been wounded in battle.

Cat: WHAT?! WHY DIDN'T I KNOW ABOUT THIS SOONER?!

Vyman: Meh.  Whatver. I hear the wound ins't that bad.

Cat: Well tell me more abo--

--Vyman leaves, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it six times. 

Cat: Damnit.

So Cat sits there, alone except for her father in late stage care for dementia. All she can do is brood and think more about Tansy.

Cat: Eh, maybe at the end of the book we'll have some satisfying revelation about Tansy. Or maybe a deeply troubling, horrible revelation that included abortion. I guess we'll see!

I mean you won't, Cat. you'll be dead by the end of the book. 

Cat: What? Who said that?

Nothing. Nevermind.

Hours later, her brother Edmure returns to the castle. He makes her wait two hours before coming to see her. 

Cat: Wow, you look pale and exhausted.

Edmure: Wow, you look like an annoying, imprisoned cunt that let our most important prisoner go.

Cat: Ouch.

Edmure: So anyway. We got word from King's Landing. Stannis got completely jacked d up. The might of Highgarden and Dorne has also joined up with Team Joffrey. So yeah, we're pretty fucked. Especially with that letting Jaime go thing.

Cat: Look Ed, letting Jaime go might help me get my daughters back. He promised.

Edmure: Right, because the Lannisters are oh-so-trustworthy. And promises made by drunk prisoners who think they're about to get murdered are totally valid.

Cat: Well, when you put it like that it does sound dumb to release him.

Edmure: Because it was pretty dumb.

Cat: At the very least, Tyrion will let my daughters go. He seems like a straight-shooting kind of guy.

Edmure: That you accused of trying to kill Bran, imprisoned, and tried to murder. You think he'll be looking out for you?

Cat: Uhhhh.... yes?

Edmure: Well, it doesn't matter anyway. He's probably dead by now.

Cat: WHAT?

Edmure: Yeah, he took an axe to the head in the battle for King's Landing. Last word is that he was unconscious, barely hanging on, and doped up the opium. By the time Jaime gets to Kings Landing -- IF he gets to Kings Landing -- Tyrion will be dead. And Jaime likely won't get far. I've already sent ravens to Lord Bolton, offering a reward for his capture. Dead or al... well... dead is just fine.

Cat: NOOOOOOO!!!

ASoS 1: Jaime I

Jaime Lannister: That's right, bitches. It's book three and I've been upgraded from "that seemingly supporting character who threw Bran out the window" to full-on "Recurring POV Main Character." Everybody is going to have to just deal with it. Either by still hating me or by slowly allowing me to build up a dedicated fan base who thinks I'm the best character.

Brienne of Tarth: SHUT UP, JAIME!

She smacks him in the back of the head. He can't do anything about it, because he's chained up. 

Jaime, Brienne and Ser Cleos Frey float down a boat on the Red Fork River. Jaime has escaped his long captivity at Riverrun, via Cat Stark releasing him as part of a deal to try to free her daughters from Cersei. 

Yeah. That's how we're resolving that cliffhanger. Remember it? Cat lifted up her sword to Jaime as if she was about to kill him? Well, she didn't. She let him go. 

Jaime: Look wench, if you would just release these chains I could help you paddle the boat and everything.

Brienne: My name is not wench, it's Brienne. And I can't trust you, Kingslayer.

Jaime: Oh great. More with this "Kingslayer" shit, huh?

Brienne: Shut up, monster.

Jaime: Monster? Where the fuck did THAT come from? Especially coming from some wench that looks like a cow cosplaying as Joan of Arc.

Brienne: What else do you call a man who violates his own sister, murders his king, and tosses an innocent boy out of a window?

Jaime: Okay, FIRST... I'm not violating Cersei. That whole thing is totally consensual. Except for that one time on the TV show, but I'd rather not talk about that. SECOND... the king was a brutal murderer and tyrant. THIRD... innocent? INNOCENT? That Bran kid? All I was trying to do was get twenty minutes alone with my lady and this little creeper comes in and spies on us. Gross. If you ask me, he deserved that shit.

Cleos: Twenty minutes, huh?

Jaime: Well, more like seven minutes if you know what I mean. Hahaha! Give me a five, Cleos! Who cares if the lady has an orgasm, right? Bros before hos!

Cleos: I can't high five you. You're chained up.

Jaime: Oh. Right.

And so the boat continues down the river. Jaime contemplates life. He made those oaths to Cat Stark. But do oaths count when you're shitfaced drunk and chained up in a dungeon? Probably not. Still, Cat Stark likely hoped that Tyrion would be decent enough to live up to the oaths if not him.  Jaime also thinks more about the Bran thing. Especially the catspaw assassin sent to kill Bran. Jaime had nothing to do with that. Did Cersei? Nah, probably not. She wouldn't have sent a clumsy assassin. She would have just told him to finish the job. 

As Jaime thinks, she stares at his reflection in the river. 

Jaime: Hey! Hey! You know that even though Lady Stark freed me, we're probably going to be in a lot of trouble if we get caught. And I'm super famous and handsome. Everybody knows me as having super amazing blonde hair and a clean-shaven face. But I've grown out this huge beard while I was in prison. If we shave off my head, I'll look NOTHING LIKE Jaime Lannister. And then we can more easily make our getaway!

Cleos: Yeah, sure. I mean I guess that makes sense.

So Cleos helps Jaime shave off his head. He looks at himself again in the river reflection, almost unable to recognize himself. 

Jaime: Almost. I mean if I just wasn't still so goddamn sexy, I wouldn't be able to tell. Plus I look less like Cersei when I'm like this. She'll probably hate that, hehehe.

Cleos: Dude, gross. We all know you fuck your sister and that you and your sister look very similar. We don't need you to specifically call out the fact that one of the reasons you enjoy having sex with one another is because you look like each other and it's like having sex with yourself. That's just NOT necessary. As your cousin, I got to be honest with you about these kinds of things.

Just then, Brienne steers the boat to a shore and grounds it. 

Jaime: WTF?

Brienne: There! Look. Three women, hanging from a tree.

Jaime: Yep. They're dead. That sucks for them. What does it have to do with us and why are we stopping in the middle of a warzone?

Brienne: We must cut them down and give them proper burials. It's the honorable thing to do.

Jaime: Or we could... you know... NOT DO THAT. And just keep going.

Brienne: Nope. We're stopping. You filthy Lannister scum go around murdering all the innocent people in the country side. Someone has to be respectful.

As they approach, they see a note pinned up by the murdered women. Brienne reads it. 

This is a warning to all stupid whores who service Lannister men... you will die! LOLZ! Sincerely, Team Bolton.

Jaime: OH WELL LOOK AT THAT! Do you know who murdered these women? Why it looks like it was YOUR SIDE that did that. Not mine.

Brienne is in disbelief. Mainly because she's a fucking simpleton who doesn't understand how the world works and has insane, unrealistic ideas of "good" and "evil" that don't line up with the fact that atrocities are generally committed by all sides in war.

Jaime: Well. At least I'm not going to help dig any holes. Because, you know, the chains and everything.

But no hole digging occurs at all. In the distance, another boat appears on the river. 

Cleos: Shit. We gotta get out of here.

Jaime: No kidding. If it's a Lannister boat... they'll probably kill us. If it's a Stark boat... they'll probably kill us. NOW! Let's go! Let's go, people!

And so they hop back on the boat and try to escape. But the other boat is just too fast and soon comes up on them. 

Ser Robin Ryger: HALT THERE! I am Ser Robin Ryger, sent by Edmure Tully to return the Kingslayer to Riverrun! I demand your surrender at once!

Jaime: What? Kingslayer? There is no Kingslayer here! You must be thinking of someone else. Look, I have a bald head and a beard. That Kingslayer guy has a clean-shaven face and beautiful, locks of golden hair like a goddess.

Ryder: Dude, I know it's you. Stop. I recognize the other two people in the boat too. How many 6'5" brickhouse women dressed up as knights do you think there are in the Seven Kingdoms? One. Just one. Brienne of Tarth and she's right there.  And Cleos Frey... I clearly recognize you too. In the last book it was me who brought you to the Great Hall of Riverrun to hear Robb Stark's terms for your release and peace between the King in the North and House Baratheon.

Cleos: Oh wow, was that you? Because when the writer of this blog wrote up Chapter 7 of A Clash of Kings, he didn't think you were an important enough character to mention and just left you out.

Ryger: GRRR! I'm important, damnit! Surrender the Kingslayer now or we will attack you!

Brienne then jumps out of the boat and climbs up a nearby cliff. 

Ryger: WTF did Tarzan Lady just do that for?

Jaime: I dunno. She's probably running away like a little scared bitch. What you SHOULD BE ASKING YOURSELF is whether or not you can go toe-to-toe with Jaime Lannister? I challenge you to a dual, man! Just take these manacles off me and we can fight like men.

Ryger: What? No. Why would I do that?

Jaime: I mean, you probably wouldn't. I'm just trying to distract you.

Ryger: Distract me from what?

Brienne stands on top of the cliff and throws a giant boulder into Ser Ryger's boat. The men on the boat run out of the way. The boulder creates a giant hole in the ship, and it sinks right down to the bottom of the river. 

Ryger: GRRRR! You haven't seen the last of Ser Robin Ryger! I swear that to you, Kingslayer!

Jaime: I believe you! You'll probably be one of the forces that has to surrender Riverrun to me in the future, and you'll volunteer to take up the black.

Ryger: Say what now?

Brienne dives into the river and swims back to the boat. For a minute, Jaime thinks of trying to grab an oar and smashing her head in with it. But he just shrugs and lets her hop back on the boat. They sail away. 

Jaime: Hahaha, that was the best. Horray for teamwork. Give me a high five!

Brienne: I can't give you a high five. You're in chains.

Jaime: Oh. Right.