ASoS 42: Daenerys IV, Part 1

So some time has passed since we last saw Dany buy all those slaves, free them, and have them kill their former masters. Since then, they’ve travelled to a new city – Yunkai.

This city is also ruled by a bunch of slave masters. Crazy, huh?  Needless to say, the slave masters of Yunkai are not particularly looking forward to Dany and her freed slaves coming.
Dany: So what do you think… they have 5000 soldiers protecting the city?

Jorah: Yes, all slave soldiers. But they are not the equal to your Unsullied. Trust me. I know. I’m an expert on slaves and slavery.

Dany: Obviously. I know that, Jorah. What I also know is that even though my forces ate better and will win… it will not be without cost. Many of my brave men will die… and so soon after gaining their freedom. I would like to avoid that.

Jorah: In addition to the 5000 slave solders, Yunkai is also protected by two mercenary armies that Yunkai has hired – the Stormcrows and the Second Sons.

Dany: We should meet with the leaders of them all. The Stormcrows, Second Sons, and the Slave Masters of Yunkai, But we should meet with them SEPARATELY. In that order. Not together.

Jorah: As you command, I will send out word that you wish to meet with them.

As that’s being taken care of, Dany goes over to talk with the person who has emerged as the “commander” of her freed Unsullied soldiers.

Dany: Hey, what’s your name?

Grey Worm: I am Grey Worm.

Dany: What a terrible name. You must hate your parents.

Grey Worm: No, don’t you know how the Unsullied Slave Naming System works? In order to further destroy our identities and convince us that we are not real men… the Masters had us randomly draw names out of a bag every day. Our names changed every day.

Dany: Ah, well you’re free now. So you don’t have to keep using that terrible name. You can go back to whatever your original name was.

Grey Worm: Aloysius?

Dany: Yikes. Really? On second thought, maybe not.

Grey Worm: No, just kidding. That’s not my name. But I don’t care about my original name. My original name was unlucky. That’s the name I was given when I was taken to be a slave.  Grey Worm is the name I pulled out of the bag the morning that you gave me my freedom. It is a lucky name. From this day forward, I will be Grey Worm.

Dany: Awww, that’s so sweet!  But anyway, we might have a giant fight ahead where a lot of your men die.

Grey Worm: Yep, well… that’s sort of what being a soldier is all about.

Dany: But hopefully we can avoid all that. Anyway… if you see any of the slave soldiers on the other side who surrender… let them surrender. Do not fight them.

Grey Worm: As you command, Dany.

Dany: Wow. When you were a slave you had to risk your life and die for your masters and obey all their commands. Now you’re doing the exact same thing for me. I’m not quite sure how it’s much different.

Grey Worm: I suppose that’s a fair point. But the moral justification we’ll go with here is that previously we didn’t have the choice to make that decision. We HAD to obey because we were slaves. Now we CHOOSE to obey, because we are free.

Dany: Still though. You were kidnapped and trained to be soldiers by slave masters when you were children. You were brainwashed to do it. It’s all you know how to do. It’s been your entire life. So I come along and say “you’re free now, and you can do whatever you want.” I mean what do you think you’re going to do? Of COURSE you’re going to keep on being a soldier for me. You don’t know how to do anything else. So really… I’m not sure if you DO have a choice. You’re sort of forced into this option because it’s all you know. Like in post-Civil War society when the freed slaves continued to live on the farms of their former masters and continued to do the same hard, manual labor except they were “paid”… although in actual practice not really and they were all subject to ludicrous “debts” and conditions that still bonded them to their former masters.

Grey Worm: Well, if you’re going to go down that road… we might as well as ask if ANY of us are free to do what we want. Does free will exist? Are you free to make your own decisions or have the circumstances of your birth and upraising provided you with a predetermined path that you are unable to veer from?

Dany: Geez, this conversation is getting a lot deeper than I expected. Never mind. Moving on…

She leaves and glances at the other men and women following her. Many citizens of Astapor followed her because they were “free” to do so. These people aren’t soliders though. They’re boys, women’s, the weak, etc.  Those who feared to stay in Astapor and who wanted to follow her instead.  It’s almost like these people didn’t place a great amount of trust in the weak, pseudo-government she left behind upon departing with all of her military forces.

Hrmm. I wonder how that will play out in the long run.

Soon, Jorah returns.

Jorah: I bring you the leaders of the Stormcrows - Prendahl na Ghezn, Sallor the Bald, and Daario Naharis.

Dany: Oh hey! Grey Worm AND Daario are both introduced for the first time in this chapter? Sweet! Looks like I have some new major characters being added. But I’ve already got so many!

Jhogo, Aggo, Rakharo, Irri and Jhiqui: Well, it looks like our characters will barely ever be seen or heard from again. It was nice while it lasted! It is known.

Prendahl: Salutations, you filthy horselord’s whore!

Dany: Wow. Usually people just go with “hello” when they meet for the first time. But I guess you can go in that direction.

Prendahl: Do not think that the Stormcrows are afraid of you. Yunkai will not fall as easily and quickly as Astapor did. Especially not with the Stormcrows protecting them!

Dany: Well, I have 10,000 Unsullied. There are only about 500 Stormcrows.

Prendahl: Hahaha, bitch please. Those 10,000 slaves are infantry. My men are horsed. Do you know what happens when cavalry and infantry meet?

Dany: I saw “Braveheart,” and I remember that scene where the infantry used all those pikes to go right through the horses. So I’m still going to say I have the advantage.

Prendahl: UGH! Don’t take battle strategies from Braveheart, idiot! The battle of Sterling BRIDGE wasn’t even set on a BRIDGE in that movie!  But if you still want to face us… be my guest.

Dany: I do. But you’ll be facing more than just us. Just like I’m meeting with you, I’m also meeting with the Second Sons. I bet they’ll flip and join team Dany.

Prendahl: Doubt it. And after we’ve defeated you, horse girl, I’ll breed you with my stallion.

Dany: Eww. Really. It’s not that you want the horse to have sex with me simply to be violent, demeaning and sexist. You specifically want to “breed” your horse with me. You’re trying to make a Centaur or something?

Prendahl: What the hell is a Centaur?

Dany: It’s a half-horse, half-human you dumbass. Geez. Look, I’m willing to forgive your egotistical ass threatening to horse rape me. If you turn and join my side against Yunkai, I’m even willing to have your Stormcrows share in the plunder we win. Take the offer, it’s a good deal.

Prendahl: Nah.

Dany: Why are you the only one speaking for this group? What about these other two guys? Sallor and Daario?

Prendahl: We speak with one voice. And our answer is “no.”

Dany: Well, the offer stands until TOMORROW. Why don’t you sleep on it over night and ponder it?

And so the three leaders of the Stormcrows exit. As they do so, one of the quiet ones turns around and winks at her.

Daario: *wink* Hey gurl.

He then leaves.

An hour or so later, it’s now the turn of the Second Sons to talk with Dany. Their Captain, Mero AKA Titan’s Bastard, comes in.  However, in the hour between the two meetings, a giant truckload of Busch Light pulls up.

Dany: I gotta say I really love the nickname “Titan’s Bastard.”

Titan’s Bastard: Yeah, it’s pretty cool, huh? Now how about you let me dig one of your eyes out with a spoon so that I can then fuck you in the eyeball?

Dany: OH WOW! LOOKS LIKE WE HAVE A BADASS HERE! It appears that this book series has now introduced the 700th different douchebag character who makes sexist, crude and violent sexual comments about me. You should win a prize or something for that. There should be balloons and graffiti. Or is the 700th different character to do this not momentous enough for that? Should I wait until the 1,000th character?

Titan’s Bastard: Okay, fair enough. Can you get to your point?

Dany: My point is that you have three options. Option 1 is that you stay allied with Yunkai. In that option you will be crushed and killed. The slaves of the Yunkai will defect and join the Unsullied when they learn that they can be free. The Stormcrows will betray you as well.  Option 2 is you run and flee. We will not chase you. We will not pursue you. You can keep whatever gold and supplied you have and leave. We will have no quarrel with you at all. This is a good option if you want to stay alive.  Option 3 is that you join us. That option is the option where you become rich beyond your wildest dreams and win battles with me. You and your men travel from city to city as part of the newest, greatest army in the history of Essos. The army of Dany.

Titan’s Bastard: Heh, way to upsell Option 3, huh? You should sell mattresses. Mattresses that I will have sex with you on. HAHAHA! YEAH!  Hey, look bitch. I already made a promise to Yunkai that I’d be on their side. So what kind of a person would I be if I betrayed them after taking their money?

Dany: You would be a douchebag. Which we have already established that you are.

Titan’s Bastard: Hey look, maybe if you get down on your knees and blow me I might think it over a bit.

Jorah: GRRR! How dare this man talk to you this way! I ought to—

Dany: No! Calm yourself, Jorah. Let him go. I will let him take the offer back to his men to consider it.

Titan’s Bastard: Hahaha. Whatever. I bet my men will… hey… wait… is that a TRUCKLOAD of Busch Light?

Dany: Yeah. I don’t know why it’s even here. It must have been mis-delivered or something. We didn’t even order it. I think something must be wrong with my Amazon Prime account or something. Do you want it?

Titan’s Bastard: Do I want it? HELL YEAH I WANT IT, BITCH!

Dany: Oh right, RIGHT. Of course you would want it. You are a doucbebag after all. Well, how about you and your men have it as a gift from me. Promise to think on my offer further though.

And so Mero the Titan’s Bastard leaves with his truck of Busch Light.  After he’s gone…

Not Barritsan: You can’t trust him.

Jorah: You know how much I HATE agreeing with Not Barristan, Dany. But this time I agree with him. And the Stormcrows are not to be trusted either!

Finally, the last meeting of the night occurs. The Yunkai delegation arrives, led by a man named Grazdan mo Eraz.

Dany: Oh shit. ANOTHER “Grazdan?” Is every single slaver named Grazdan?

Grazdan mo Eraz: Greetings from the Wise Masters of Yunkai.

Dany: Wise Masters?

Grazdan: Yeah. We call ourselves the Wise Masters here. Every town of slavers has a different adjective for their masters. In Astapor it was, as you know, the “Good Masters.” Here it is the “Wise Masters.” In nearby Meereen, they go by “Great Masters.”

Dany: Hrm. Meereen, you say? Okay. I’ll add them as next on my list. 

Grazdan: We saw what kind of shit you pulled with Atsapor. Not cool. We will not fall for the same trickery and scheming that you did there. That’s why we are the WISE Masters. You and your army will be defeated. After that, we will turn all the Unsullied back into slaves and you will become a slave as well. I will personally put you in one of our pleasure houses so that you can service the—

Dany: --701.

Grazdan: Huh?

Dany: 701. We’re working our way to 1,000.

Grazdan: I don’t follow.

Dany: Don’t worry about it. Just go on with what you were saying.

Grazdan: Well now I lost my train of thought!

Dany: Ugh. JUST GET TO YOUR POINT.

Grazdan: My point is...
 
Dany: ..

Grazdan: --JUST KIDDING! CLIFFHANGER!!!

Dany: WHAT?!  In the middle of a conversation?!

Yeah, sorry. This chapter is taking too long. I'm cutting it in half.

ASoS 41: Jon V

Jon and Ygritte ride through Brandon’s Gift, south of the Wall.

Ygritte: Wow! Look at the size of these castles! They are so huge! They must have been built by giants and kings lived inside of them!

Jon: Uhh… Ygritte… these are little tree houses that people used to make for their kids to play in.

Ygritte: No way. You’re fucking with me!

Jon: No, seriously. These aren’t castles. These are tiny little structures. Do you actually know what a Castle looks like? They are like a hundred times taller than this. There are castles and towers at the Old Town Citadel that are taller than the Wall.

Ygritte: Hahaha, I know you’re just pulling my chain. I mean LOOK AT THIS right here! It’s massive!

Jon: That’s just one of the little sand castles that’s shaped like a turtle. It’s tiny. Holy crap, you people from north of the Wall have NO CLUE what it’s like on this side, do you?

Ygritte: Why is this place abandoned with all these huge, amazing castles here?

Jon: Well… again… they are pretty small and aren’t castles. But to answer your question… they all left because they kept getting murdered by you people.

Ygritte: What do you mean “you people?” You’re one of us now, Jon Snow.

Jon: Ah. Right. Right. Of course I am. *shifty eyes*

Ygritte:  Sounds like you assholes south of the wall should have defended these things better. You all seem like a bunch of cowards if you abandoned this place just because of a few wildling raids.

Jon: Well, people get tired of being murdered and having everything stolen from them.

Ygritte: If you ask me, the real thieves are YOU.

Jon: Okay… I’m lost here. The people live in these towns. Then you come down and murder and steal from them. Yet somehow THEY are the thieves. Explain.

Ygritte: The land belongs to whoever fights for it and wants it more. That’s how the free folk live. Yet you Southerners come in and say, “You can’t live on this land. The king owns it. You can’t hunt in these woods. The king owns them. You can’t drink from this river. The king owns it.” See how annoying that is?

Jon: So you’re against state ownership of lands?

Ygritte: Yes! Everything should be available to everyone! People can’t “own” land! That’s crazy. It should be left for everyone to share.

Jon: If you say so. Jesus, you Wildlings are out there. Aren’t you? You don’t even have the most limited construct of social contract theory.

Ygritte: Meh.

Jon: You know… there is no way Mance’s plan will work. If you don’t form a society with rules then you have no order. Being “free” sounds cool and all. But it doesn’t work when you go against an organized state with an organized military. All of you free folk fight for your own glory. You’re individually kick-ass fighters. But if a trained, organized body comes to fight against you… you’ll be destroyed in a minute.

Ygritte: No way. You’re crazy.

Jon thinks about how he and Ygritte are so different. It bothers him. Oh, he enjoys that sex and everything. But this relationship will never really work out. Plus he has to betray all these people he’s riding with sooner or later. Probably sooner. He’s been travelling with them for a while and he knows their names. He knows about their families. They shoot the shit and talk about stuff like girlfriends and hobbies and great spots to play Pokemon Go up in Brandon’s Gift. And with every day that he knows these men more… the more hard it gets that he will have to betray them.

He’s already had to tell them all sorts of stuff about Castle Black. How many men are stationed there. What their defenses are.  Jon lied when he could. But the honest truth is that Castle Black is BARELY a castle. Its walls are crumbling and it’s almost completely undefended. Of course to the north there is the Wall… but to the south? Nothing. The Wildlings might be able to easily take it from the South. Especially with Castle Black being 200 men short with the Great Ranging party.  How many of those 200 men returned? Most of everyone left at Castle Black are Builders and Stewards. The Rangers? They’re all gone.

They are fucked.

Magnar: Hey. It’s starting to rain. Let’s go over to that village there.

Random Wildling: Oh, hey look. Is that smoke coming from the village?

Magnar: Hrm. Yes indeed. It does appear to be smoke.

Jon: Uh oh. This can’t be good.

The Wildlings assemble up and head over to the village, where they find an old man who has started a fire. They start to go through his things and steal all his shit. Jon walks away with Ygritte and sits on the side of a lake which is next to the small village.

Ygritte: HOLY SHIT! You were right, Jon! Those castles back there weren’t the biggest castles in the world! THIS RIGHT HERE must be the biggest castle in the world!

Jon: What? You mean that old tower?

Jon points at a tower that sits in the middle of the lake.

Ygritte: YEAH! Look how huge it is!

Jon: Winterfell has towers much bigger than that.

Ygritte: You’re yanking my chain again, man! No way!

Jon: *sigh*  I wish I could show you Winterfell one day. But I know that’s not possible. Because Winterfell belongs to the King in the North. Not me. So I could never do that. You know… UNLESS… one day… I become the King in the North. Hrmmmmmm.

Ygritte: You know, I think there might be some people still living in the tower. Some of Styr and Magnar’s men said they heard noises.

Jon: That’s crazy talk. It’s the Queenstower. It’s been abandoned forever. They just hear lightning.

Ygritte: A queen used to live there?

Jon: No. A queen visited there one night. Queen Alysanne Targaryen (queen consort of her brother, King Jaehaerys I Targaryen), flew to the Wall on her dragon, Silverwing. She stayed at this holdfast on her way, so the villagers painted the merlons atop the tower gold.

Ygritte: Oh. That’s a lot of backstory that I’m not sure is relevant. Are you sure there is nobody in the tower? Because with that last flash of lightning, I thought I saw some heads popping out. Like maybe the head of a small, crippled boy, a pot smoker, his sister, and a giant dude.

Jon: That seems highly unlikely.

Random Wildling: HEY! Jon Snow. The Magner wants to see you.

Jon: Ugh. Okay.

Ygritte: You don’t have to listen to what this asshole tells you to do, Jon. You’re part of the free folk now. You can do what you want.

Jon: I suppose. But let me just see what that dickweed has to say.

Jon heads back into the village.  The Magner stands over the old man who had been in the village.

Magnar: Ah, there you are. Kill this man.

The Magnar hands him a knife.

Jon: What? Why would I kill this guy?

Magnar: To prove your loyalty to the Free People. To prove you’re not still a crow that was assigned on some super secret mission to infiltrate us to learn about our plans, our numbers, and our plans to find and use a magical artifact known as the Horn of Winter in order to bring down the wall.

Jon: Uhhh…. He’s just an old man. He’s no threat to us.

Magnar: OBEY ME!

Jon: *thinking back at what Ygritte just told him*… Uhh… No! I’m a FREE FOLK! I don’t have to listen to you! I don’t take orders from you! I DO WHAT I WANT!

Ygritte: Hey! That’s not what I meant by my motivational speech to you about being free. Stop being a pussy and kill this guy.

Jon: Nah.

Ygritte is flustered, and can see that Jon isn’t going to do it. Yet if he doesn’t do it, the Magnar’s men are clearly going to kill him.

Ygritte grabs the knife from Jon’s hand and slits the old man’s throat. Blood goes squirting everywhere.

Magnar: Nice try, but that won’t save him. He is a crow. And you are a crow’s wife! Men, I order you to kill th—AGHHH!!!!! HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!

A MOTHERFUCKING DIREWOLF jumps into the scene and starts tearing out Wildling necks.

“Mysterious” Direwolf: *HOWL* [Translation: Come on people, you know I’m Bran/Summer. It’s pretty obvious. That’s why I was left behind and didn’t cross the causeway in the last chapter. Duh].

With the chaos of Bran/Summer eating wildling throats, all hell has broken loose. Jon knows this is the best chance he will get to escape. He jumps up on the horse that had belonged to the old man and makes a run for it.

None of the other wildlings stop him. Because… you know… they just climbed over the Wall. They obviously didn’t do that with horses. Do you know how hard it would be to bring a horse over the Wall? Very hard. Jon has a horse. They don’t.

Jon: HAHAH! SUCKERS! SMELL YOU LATER!

Magnar: Ugh. Will somebody shoot him?

Ygritte: *heartbroken sigh* Absolutely.

She pulls out her bow and arrow and aims straight for him. She fires.

Jon: AGHH!!!!!!!!!! FUCK! MY LEG!

Ygritte: Haha, I’m such a great shot. He’s super far away and I still got him.

Magnar: Did you? DID YOU?

Ygritte: You see? Look! I got him!

Magnar: Right. You got his fucking leg. Why didn’t you aim for his chest or his head? You know, to kill him. Or better yet… HIS HORSE! That would stop him dead in his tracks and we could then kill him. Now he’s just injured. And still getting away.

Ygritte: Oh. Well… erm… I mean… uh…

But sure enough, the Magnar is right and Jon has gotten away. But he’s losing a lot of blood from his leg. He stops for a moment to look at his wound.

Jon: Fuck this arrow is in pretty deep, isn’t it? Let me try to pull it out.

He tries to.

Jon: AGHHH!!!!! SHIT! Well, it looks like that isn’t going to happen. It won’t come back out. Which means… eww… I am really not going to like this…

Knowing he can’t pull the arrow out backwards, the only option for Jon is to PUSH IT THROUGH FURTHER. Right through his muscle and out of the other side of his leg. He pushes it out. The blood comes pouring out even more.

Jon: SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! That was SO STUPID! Why would I do that? Surely that is a very illogical medical procedure I just performed on myself!

Jon pops back up on the horse.

Jon: Horse! Take me back to Castle Black!

Horse: Nay.

Jon: Nay? You mean “no?!”

Horse: That’s just what horses say, man. Leave me alone.

Jon passes out from the blood loss as he stares up at the stars in the sky.

ASoS 40: Bran III

Bran, Meera, Jojen, Hodor and Summer arrive at an abandoned village near a lake with a tall tower on an island in it.

Bran: Oh, I know all about this place. Ol’ Nan told me stories about it. All the land here fifty leagues out to the Wall was gifted to the Night’s Watch and is called the “New Gift.” But it’s all uninhabited now because all the Wildling raids that happen around here. It just wasn’t worth it. So these towns and villages are mostly abandoned and look like Detroit.

Jojen: Whoa, far out. But I… like… sense a storm coming, dude.

Bran: You can sense storms coming? Are you a pothead or an old man on the porch in a rocking chair?

Hodor: Hahaha! A wondrous literary allusion to a common stock character found within many pieces of fine literature! Why I can think of numerous examples of—

Meera: I think Jojen is right. Rain is coming. But all the roofs of the builing in this village are rotted out. We’ll be out in the rain and we’ll get soaked.

Bran: Not if we go over to that tower in the middle of the lake.

Meera: How do you expect us to get to the middle of the lake? We don’t have a boat!

Bran: Haha, that’s another story Old Nan told me about. There is a secret causeway hiddenunder the water that will allow us to cross the island safely.

Meera: Oh. Cool. Then let’s do that.

They cross the secret causeway to the tower on the island in the lake. Everyone except for Summer.

Summer: *woof* [Translation: Nah, I ain’t getting near that water. I want to go hunt].

As they cross, Hodor almost slips on the causeway twice.

Hodor: WHOA! That was indeed quite perilous! The moss that has grown upon the limestone blocks submerged within the water have created quite a lubricious and unctuous texture upon the stone!

When they get to the tower, they find that the doorway to enter is high up in the air, and out of reach (a way of protecting the tower from invading forces). But Hodor holds Bran up high and he is able to pull the grating away from a murder hole in the ceiling. After that, they stack a bunch of rocks up so that Hodor can climb on them and pull himself into the tower. He helps bring the others up, and they all go up to the top of the tower.

Bran: Wow! Look at the views from here! You can see for miles all around! I’m surprised you can’t see the Wall from here too. I thought we were getting close.

Jojen: We’re, like, not that close. Dude. And I’m in no hurry. Those Night’s Watch dudes are like cops. They’re probably going to try to seize my weed.

Bran: What are we going to do when we get to the Wall anyway? We should probably just go to Castle Black and find my half-brother Jon and my uncle Benjen. Benjen was missing the last time I heard about him… but that was two books ago. Surely he’s been found by now!

Jojen: No way, man. The Night’s Watch is made out of a bunch of criminals and rapists who were sent there to become petty, weed-stealing narcs. We can’t trust them. They’ll sell us out to the Boltons or the Ironmen in a minute flat. We’ve got to find one of the old, abandoned castles that the Nights Watch used to man… but is now empty.

Bran: Oh, cool. I had to memorize all the names of those empty and abandoned castles. There are 19 of them total… although even when the Night’s Watch was fully manned, there were only 17 of them active at one time. I recited the names of them all to Benjen the last time he vistited Winterfell when King Robert came. He said that I knew the towers better than him! Although I assume he was just being patronizing to me, since he was the leader of the Watch’s Rangers that patrol the wall.  Would you like me to recite the names of all the castles along the wall for you?

Everyone Else: NO.

Bran: Damnit.

Meera: HEY WAIT! What’s that?

They look and see a rider in the distance.  The rider eventually takes shelter in the abandoned town that they were previously in.

Bran: Hey! That guy is in the town! We should—

Meera: ---SHHH!!! Don’t be loud of that guy could hear us. We can’t trust anybody.

It starts to get colder. They see smoke rise from the village.

Bran: It is SO COLD. We should start a fire to keep warm just like that guy in the village. Plus we can cook this leftover duck!

Jojen: No way, dude. It’s too dangerous. We’ll be seen. We just gotta eat cold duck.

Darkness falls, and the rain that Jojen and Meera predicted finally comes. It’s not just a little rain either. It’s a HUGE rain storm. With thunder and lighting and shit.

Hodor: AGHHH! I HATE THUNDER AND LIGHTNING! IT SCARES ME SO MUCH! AGHHH! AGHH!!!!

Bran: Shh! Calm down, Hodor!

Hodor: AGGGH!!! AGH!!! SO EERIE AND INTIMIDATING! THE FULMINATION OF ELECTRICITY STRIKES IN THE SKY FILLS MY HEART WITH DEEP TERROR! I AM ESPECIALLY CONCERNED ABOUT HOW THE SOUND AND THE SIGHT OF THE LIGHTNING DOES NOT MATCH UP! THE LIGHT FLASHES FIRST… BUT THEN THE SOUND COMES SEVERAL SECOND LATER! IT MAKES NO SENSE, GIVEN THAT WE ARE A PRIMITIVE SOCIETY THAT DOES NOT UNDERSTAND THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE SPEED OF LIGHT WAVES AND SOUND WAVES!

Jojen: HEY EVERYONE! Seriously… SHUT THE FUCK UP! LOOK! More men have arrived at that village!

Everyone, except for Hodor who is still spazzing out, goes over to look at the village across the lake.

They see a bunch of armed (but unmounted) soldiers. It’s too many to count.

Meera: Oh crap! You think they’re going to come here for shelter like we did?

Bran: No way! This place is, like, a secret. Nobody knows about the causeway.

Hodor: AGHHH!!! AGHH!!!! Lighing is my personal bête noire and I continue to be greatly agitated by its continuance!  AGHHH!!!!

Jojen: SHUT UP, HODOR! The soldiers out there don’t have any reason to come over to this tower… unless they hear us! And you’re going to make them hear us!

Hodor: AGHHH!!!

Bran: SHUT UP, HODOR!

Hodor: AGHHH!!!

Bran: I SAID, “SHUT THE FUCK UP, HOD—”

Bran then Wargs into Hodor’s body and takes control of him. Hodor sits down, crosses his legs, and starts to do a New York Times crossword puzzle. Bran then leaves Hodor.

Meera: HOLY SHIT, Bran. What was that? Did you just WARG INTO A PERSON?

Bran: I… uhm… I mean… I didn’t mean to.

Hodor looks up. He can tell what just happened. He knows Bran took him over. And it freaked him out. Hodor sits silently, completely shell-shocked.

Jojen: SHH!!! SHHHHH! I think I saw one of those dudes just point at the tower!

Bran: Just for my interest, what did the person pointing at the tower look like?

Jojen: I dunno. Some mopey, brooding-looking guy that was talking to a redheaded girl. Why do you ask?

Bran: Eh, no reason. It doesn’t matter. I told you, we’re safe. They have no way to cross the causeway since they don’t know about it. And they wouldn’t be able to see it in all this storming anyway.

Jojen: Yeah, but what about tomorrow morning?

Bran: Hrm. If only there was some way I could find out more about these soldiers who just arrived. Like, for instance, if Summer had coincidentally stayed behind and was still over there near the soldiers. Oh wait, that’s exactly what happened…

Bran wargs into Summer… ready to INVESTIGATE, WOLF-STYLE!

ASoS 39: Arya VII

Arya watches as the Brotherhood without Banners is attacking a group of Brave Companions / Bloody mummers near a sept.

Arya: Oh wow, another in media res chapter. It’s been a while since we had one of these.

The battle is short, with the forces of Beric and the Brotherhood being victorious. They spare a few of the Mummers, so that they can flee back to Harrenhal to inform Lord Bolton and Vargo Hoat.  They also take a few hostages.

Thoros: Well look who we have here, Septon Utt!

Septon Utt: Please forgive me! I’ve done some horrible, horrible things to kids!

Thoros: So wait… are you a septon of the Faith of the Seven… or are you a Catholic priest?

Utt: Those are pretty much the same thing.

Thoros: Well, we better give you a fair trial for your crimes then.

Utt: Okay.

Thoros: Guilty.

Utt: What was that?

Thoros: That was your trial. And the verdict.

Utt: But I—

--They hang Septon Utt and most of the rest of the hostages. They were all found guilty too.

Arya: Why do you kill them… but let the Hound go free? That’s no fair!

That’s right! Since this chapter started in media res… we now FLASH BACK to fill in the gaps between what happened at the end of the fight between Beric and the Hound until now. Essentially they heal up the Hound’s wounds, steal all his gold, and then let him go. So there. We don’t need to get into all that.

That night, the Brotherhood has a meal in a brewhouse that is next to the sept where they fought earlier.

Thoros: Okay, let us pray to R’hollor to enjoy this meal.

Septon: HEY! Are you guys those Red God people? You know this is a SEPT of the FAITH OF THE SEVEN, right? Get that shit out of here!

Lem Lemoncloak: Hey man, FUCK YOU! We can do what we want!

Beric: Now, now, Lem. This is their sept’s brewhouse and their rules. We should follow their rules while we are here.

Beric’s jaw then falls off, and he quickly tries to put it back on, pretending that nothing happened.

Arya: Dude, are you fucking dead or something?

Lem: Hahaha, oh! Sweet girl! *nervous sweat* So young and innocent! You don’t know any better! Of course not. You just thought you saw something that you didn’t.

Arya: I totally saw Beric get murdered by the Hound. He got SO KILLED.

Lem: No! Wounded! That’s all! Wounded and then Thoros made him all better.

Beric gives Lem that “Tommy Lee Jones reading the newspaper” look.

Beric: Lem, get out of here.

Lem: Ugh. Okay. Whatever.

Lem leaves.

Beric: You’re smart, girl. Thoros… how many times is it that you’ve brought be back from the dead now?

Thoros: Six.

1. Impaled on a lance by Ser Gregor Clegane.
2. Smashed with a mace on the side of the head by Ser Burton Crakehall.
3. Hanged at Rushing Falls by Ser Amory Lorch.
4. Stabbed in the eye with a dirk by Ser Gregor Clegane.
5. Killed by Vargo Hoat of the Brave Companions.
6. Killed in Trial by Combat by Sandor Clegane.

Arya: Wow. That’s a lot of times. It’s cool that Thoros can bring people back from the dead though. Looks like we’ve just found a cure to death and everything is going to be a-okay in the future.

Thoros: Ah, it’s not that easy, Arya. You see, every time I bring him back there is a… cost.

Arya: OH SHIT! You mean every time you bring him back somewhat has to die? Like some sort of ying-yang thing?

Thoros: No, it’s not quite like that, Arya. But the process is both difficult and painful. Both for me, and for Lord Beric. And he doesn’t quite come back… well… full…

Arya: Huh?

Beric: It’s true. Every time Thoros brings me back, I’m a little bit less of the man I used to be. You see I continue to have all of these injuries. It’s not like they heal and go away. And I remember less of my life every time I come back. Every time I return… it’s like a little more of my soul is gone and I’m more of a thing than a man.

Arya: Yikes. So how does this freaky magic trick work?

Thoros: It’s not magic, Arya. It’s simply a prayer. A perfectly normal prayer for the dead that we who follow the Red God often give over a dead body. Yet when I gave this prayer for Lord Beric the first time he died… it was R’hollor who brought him back. Not me. And he can continued to do so the next five times as well.

Arya: Creepy. So this only works for Beric, huh?

Thoros: I’m not sure.

Arya: I mean could it be transferred to anyone else? Then… like… Beric will die forever, but he can pass his immortality over to a new person who recently died?

Beric: That’s a cryptic and yet oddly specific question. And for some reason it makes me think about your mother. So let’s talk about your mother.

Arya: Why does it make you think about my mom?

Beric: No reason. But let’s talk about her anyway. I would truly wish to return you to your mother without a ransom. Alas, we are poor and need the money. So that is what we must do. But I swear upon my honor as a knight that I will bring you to your mother.

Later that night, the group is preparing to head out and leave for the next place. They’re slowly making their way north, back towards Riverrun so that Arya can be delivered to her mom.

Beric: Well, we’re just going to get you two to Riverrun safely, collect our ransom, and…

Gendry: --Why do you think I want to stay at Riverrun?

Beric: Well, you two came together. You and Arya. I just figured you were besties and you’d stay together.

Gendry: Huh? Nah. I mean… sure… we hung out for a while. But I don’t want to live at Riverrun. I want to keep hanging out with you guys. You guys are cool.

Arya: WHAT?! NO! DON’T LEAVE ME, YOU ASSHOLE!

Beric: Why the hell would you want to stay with us? We’re outlaws. We’re wanted men. There are bounties out on your head.

Gendry: Well… it’s like you were explaining in the other chapters. Who looks out for the little people? Nobody except for you guys. I respect that. I also liked what you said about being King’s Men. It seems like everyone in this world fights for themselves. You all fight for something better. Take the Hound for example. You gave him a fair trial. He won the trial. And then you honored the results of the trial and let him go, rather than just killing him anyway. You guys are doing the right thing. I want to stay on your team.

Arya: NOOOO!!!!

Gendry: Look, I’m a blacksmith’s apprentice. You guys have weapon and armor. It’s in rough shape. It’s badly damaged. It’s often stolen from the bodies of dead men. You need someone like me.

Thoros: It’s true, we do. But a good blacksmith is needed everywhere. You could make some good money if you went to a town.

Gendry: I don’t want to make money in some town. I want to be part of the Brotherhood without Banners.  So long as you promise not to go against character and fucking sell me to any Red Witch or anything.

Beric: No. That will not happen. We will not illogically sell you to any Red Witch in a plot development that goes completely against the nature of our characters in order to condense two separate book characters into one TV show character. We have already seen the last Davos chapter with Edric Storm’s blood and the leeches. So you’re safe with us.

Gendry: Cool.

Beric: Get down on your knees, Gendry.

Gendry does so. Beric unsheathes his sword and lays it on Gendry’s shoulder.

Beric: And arise… SER GENDRY! I anoint you as knight in the Brotherhood without Banners.

Then all of a sudden, they hear a giant, roaring laugh from the distance.

Thoros: What the…?

The Hound: AHHAHAHAHAHA! GENDRY?! YOU GUYS JUST MADE GENDRY A FUCKING KNIGHT?!

Lem: Clegane! When did you get here?

Hound: You guys are passing around knighthoods like candy! Hey, while you’re at it… why don’t you knight my horse? He doesn’t shit in the hall and has barely kicked that many people’s heads in. He deserves to be a knight too.

Harwin: Actually, it does sound like that’s a pretty good horse. Maybe we should knight—

Hound: --I WAS BEING SARCASTIC!

Lem: I suggest you get on that horse of yours and leave, Clegane. Why are you even here?

Hound: I WANT MY GOLD BACK! You stole it from me.

Beric: That gold is already gone, Beric. It was sent off to buy grain and seed for the starving villages of the countryside.

Hound: Sure it was, Sally Struthers. Sure. And that’s exactly what I planned to do with the gold too. Donate it to charities for puppies and starving African children. SO GIVE IT BACK.

Lem: Give it back or what? What if we don’t? I don’t see how you plan to fight us all.

Hound: You lot? I’m not fucking scared of you. You’ll probably knight that little girl next!

Arya: HEY! I’d be a GREAT knight! I’ll kill you! AND I’ll kill your brother too!

Hound: Hahaha, good luck with that you little shit. You know… you assholes like to think you’re something better than you are. You like to pretend that you’re some courageous fighters looking out for the little people. But you know what you are? A bunch of fucking common thieves.

The Hound then gets on his horse and departs, knowing that he can’t actually take them all.

Lem: Wow. The Hound must have been desperate to try to come back to us.

Thoros: Clegane has not lost just his old, but his master and kennel too. The Lannisters will not take him back and there is no way the Starks will take him in. He is a man with no place.

Lem: Where did he get all that gold from anyway?

Thoros: He won the Hand’s Tournament two books ago.

Beric: Right. We were both in that, weren’t we? Ah, good times before I was a zombie.  Anyway. We should all go get some sleep. But we need to keep an eye out for the Hound. He’s likely to come back again to steal that gold.

Arya tries to go to bed… but she’s too pissed off. Why? About Gendry.

Arya: Now that asshole is leaving me too! Why? Damnit! Everybody leaves me! Even my dad! Although that wasn't really his fault. But it also kind of was.

She takes out her coin from Jaqen and begins to recite the names of all the people she wants to kill. But I already re-named all these people a few Arya chapters ago… so you don’t need me to go through that list again, do you?  Finally, she falls asleep. She wakes up the next morning and Gendry is there.

Gendry: Hey Arya, I just wanted to say that—

Arya: --NO! SCREW YOU, ASSBLANKET! YOU GO BE SOME STUPID OUTLAW NIGHT! I HATE YOU! I WISH THAT THEY JUST SELL YOU TO A RED WITCH!

She runs off. They never sell him to a Red Witch. 

ASoS 38: Tyrion V

Tyrion Lannister awaits the arrival of the large contingent from Dorne, which is set to include Prince Doran Martell.

Tyrion: So are they coming?

Pod: Yes.

Tyrion: I’m bored. Why don’t you tell the all the banners you see from the various Houses of Dorne. 

Pod stands up on his horse. But he can’t see that well.

Pod: Well, I’m sort of short.

Tyrion: Bronn is tall. Bronn can describe all of the banners and sigils to you. And then you can tell me what House it belongs to.

Bronn: Why on earth would we do that?

Tyrion: As a way to provide ample exposition to introduce the various houses and families from Dorne, given that it will be the first time that representatives from these houses are featured in the books.

Bronn: That sounds dumb. I don’t want to do that.

Tyrion: Then how are readers supposed to learn all about the Houses of Dorne?  How else will readers learn that House Qorgyle of Sandstone is represented by a red banner with three scorpions? Or that House Manwoody of Kingsgrave is represented by a black banner with a crowned skull?  Or how the people of Dorne can actually be divided into three different sets of people with different skin tones? For instance – there are the Salty Dornishmen that live on the coast and who are racially a stand-in for Mediterranean people. There are the Sandy Dornishmen that live in the dessert who are a stand-in for Black people. And there are Stony Dornishmen who live in the mountains and are a stand-in for Northern Europeans.

Bronn: People don’t need to learn that. People don’t need to learn ANY of that. None of it will pbe of any importance later in the books. The racial make-up of the people of Dorne is of little consequence and neither the Houses of Manwoody or Qorgyle, nor their sigils, will ever be of any importance in this book series. Ever.

Tyrion: But this is all great information for fantasy world-building!

Pod: I gotta say I agree with Bronn here.

Tyrion: *sigh* Okay then. Let’s just move along to meeting Prince Doran.

And so they ride forward to meet with Prince Doran. But as they get closer, they see that there is no royal litter with the Martell banner.

Tyrion: Wait… does that mean that Prince Doran isn’t coming? If Prince Doran isn’t coming… then who in the hell is—

Prince Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper: --WHAT’S UP BITCHES!

He does a backflip and comes out like a boss.

Tyrion: OH SHIT! THE RED VIPER!

Red Viper: That’s right! It’s me! Oberyn Martell! Prince Doran’s younger brother and an infamous legend!

Tyrion: There are rumors that you dip the tips of your weapons with poison to kill your enemies! Hence, you know... the "viper" thing.

Red Viper: True. And by that I mean that it’s true that there are rumors about that. I choose to neither confirm nor deny the factual basis of that.

Tyrion: You’re also the guy that made the heir to Highgarden, Willas Tyrell, a cripple by defeating him in a jousting contest!

Red Viper: That is also true. The Tyrells FUCKING hate me. But it was a fair fight and Willas himself is the one who's least a little bitch about it.

Tyrion: And yet you are specifically coming here for a Tyrell wedding.

Red Viper: Correction, ser Imp. I am coming for a Tyrell-Lannister wedding. And in addition to being the arch enemies of the Tyrells… I am also the arch enemies of the Lannisters – what with your fucking father being the man that orchestrated the murder of my sister, Elia Martell.

Tyrion: True. And by that I mean that it’s true that there are rumors about that. I choose to neither confirm nor deny the factual basis of that.

Red Viper: Touché.

Tyrion: I don’t think that there would be a single person on this planet less welcomed to a Lannister-Tyrell wedding than the Red Viper. And I don’t think there is a single person more likely to start fights and troubles.

Red Viper: Both of those statements ring very true. I’ve also brought my paramour with me. Her name is Ellaria Sand!

Ellaria Sand: Hi!

Tyrion: Hi.

Red Viper: I plan to bring her as my +1 to the wedding.

Tyrion: Oh great! You plan on bringing a low-born, bastard mistress with you to a Lannister-Tyrell wedding!  EVEN BETTER! This should be tons of fun.

Red Viper: By the way… do you know we’ve met before?

Tyrion: I don’t think so. I would remember that.

Red Viper: It was when you were a baby. I was visiting Casterly Rock shortly after your birth when Cersei and Jaime were all like, “Want to see our hideous monster brother that killed our mother when he was born?” And I was like, “Yeah.”

Tyrion: Let me guess… it was specifically Cersei that said that?

Red Viper: Yes.

Tyrion: Figures.

Red Viper: I was so psyched to see you! I had heard all these stories about you! The demon monster that was born! They said you had a tail. They said you were hideous! And you know what I saw when I saw you? Just a baby. A pretty normal baby with a little pink thing.

Tyrion: Well not THAT little. 

Red Viper: What a let down.

Tyrion: Sorry to disappoint, asshole.

Red Viper: So I hear that you’ve put a tax on whores in the city?

Tyrion: Not my idea. It was my father’s idea. And pretty much one of the only ways to pay for all this shit like rebuilding the harbor and the royal wedding.  Yet since I’m the Master of Coin, I’ll get all the blame. They’re already calling the tax “the dwarf’s penny.”

Red Viper: Well then I’m going to have to carry around a LOT of pennies. You know, because I really like visiting whores. I like whores so much that I fully plan on dying one day with some whore titties in my hands.

Tyrion: Well, I hope your mistress is okay with that.

Ellaria: Oh, we like to go together and share.

Tyrion: Kinky. I bet this is the specific chapter that absolutely sold HBO on greenlighting this as a TV show.

Red Viper: But I have not just come to this town to have lots of unprotected group sex with prostitutes. I have not just come to this town to attend a wedding. I have not just come to this town to take my brother’s seat on the small council. The Martells were promised another thing by coming to this town. We were promised… JUSTICE.

Tyrion: Right, right. Back to the Gregor “the Mountain” Clegane thing. Because he killed your sister.

Red Viper: Correct. Although the Mountain was just obeying orders. If I am to truly get justice… then I must also have the man who GAVE THE ORDER.

Tyrion: Uh huh.

Red Viper: Which is your father, by the way.

Tyrion: Again, I can neither confirm nor deny. I wasn’t there. Don’t know.

Red Viper: Oh, everybody knows.

Tyrion: You really seem to be obsessed with avenging your sister right at this moment. You’d think you would have done it years ago.

Red Viper: Justice has waited for too long! My sister was dear to me. We were very close. Just as close as your brother and sister are to each other.

Tyrion: GOD, I FUCKING HOPE NOT.

Red Viper: Huh?

Tyrion: Nothing. Well, things should just go swimmingly then with your wild card ass coming to Kings Landing. Looks like you’re really going to stir the pot.

Red Viper: Indeed.

Tyrion: You know that this city is full of thousands of spies and soldiers loyal to the Tywin, right? And here you are openly saying that you plan to kill my dad.

Red Viper: Fuck the math.

Tyrion: I suggest you better get yourself over to Chataya’s brothel and get a couple of girls to follow you around at all times.

Red Viper: Why’s that?

Tyrion: Well, you said you wanted to die with some whore titty in your hands. And trust me…  it sounds like you’re going to die really soon.

Red Viper: Haha, no way. I’m far too interesting a character to get killed off that quickly.

Tyrion: I guess we’ll see!

ASoS 37: Jaime V

The guards assigned to Jaime Lannister bring him into a bathhouse where Brienne is also bathing.

Brienne: Uhh… get the hell out of here. This is the women’s room!

Jaime: I’ll bathe whatever I want. Besides, you ain’t got nothing I haven’t seen before.  NOW GET OUT OF HERE, GUARDS! I need some alone time with Brienne.

Guards: Well, technically we work for Lord Bolton. But I guess we can just obey you for some reason.

They obey him for some reason and leave.

Jaime: So, now that we’re alone I can mock you for being a bad bodyguard. I can say stuff like, “no wonder why Renly died on your watch” and stuff like that. Then your feelings can be hurt. And then I can oddly feel really bad for hurting your feelings. And I won’t know why I feel bad for you. And then I’ll find myself aroused thinking about you. I won’t know why. Because this book tries very hard to establish how ugly and unattractive you are.

Brienne: Could we just skip all that?

Jaime: Sure.

They skip all that.

Jaime: You know, I wonder why everyone calls me “Oathbreaker” for killing Aerys. Nobody called King Robert “Oathbreaker” for betraying Aerys and leading a war against him.

Brienne: Very interesting that you bring that up, considering that it was a topic of conversation in the very last Davos chapter as well.

Jaime: Yes, we’re getting to that point in the books where we’re supposed to be noticing important themes.

Brienne: But what Robert did… he did for love! That makes him different than you. He loved Lyanna Stark, and Rhaegar Targaryen kidnapped and murdered her.

Jaime: Did he?

Brienne: Huh?

Jaime: Look bitch, the point is Robert didn’t love shit. He did what he did for pride, a cunt, and a pretty face. You’re telling me what I did wasn’t for love? You know Mad King Aerys created this masterplan to bury hidden stocks of wildfire all over Kings Landing. It was everywhere.

Brienne: Even under the Sept of Baelor

Jaime: ESPECIALLY under the Sept of Baelor. Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. BUT ANYWAY… Once the war was lost, he was going to burn the whole city down, himself included. He wanted to kill everyone. But he didn’t think he’d actually die in the fire himself. He thought he was magical and that he’d rise as a dragon, reborn. The Hand of the King, Lord Qarlton Chelsted, objected to this plan. So do you know what King Aerys did? He got the pyromancers and set Chelsted on fire. Then he made Grand Maester Rossart of the Pyromancer’s Guild the new Hand of the King. He said that if Robert took over Kings Landing… that all he’d be the ruler of was ashes. And there I was… on the Kingsguard… having to protect this batshit crazy king who went around murdering people with fire and with a plan to kill everyone in the city, including me. Do you know what he asked me to do when he heard that my father had joined the Baratheons? He asked me to murder my own father and bring his head to him. So what did I do? I killed the pyromancers. I killed the king. To save my father. To save the city. To save everyone. Is that not an act of love?

Brienne: I… uh… ermm… I… I didn’t know! I didn’t know all of that!

Jaime: Of course you didn’t. Nobody knows. Everyone just looks at me and mocks me. “Look, it’s the Kingslayer! The guy who swore to protect the King and then killed him! You’re exactly like Rashidi Muzele, the bodyguard of Laurent-Désiré Kabila who killed him!”

Brienne: Not this Congo shit again. Anyway, you should TELL PEOPLE this story! People should know this!

Jaime: You don’t think I tried to tell people? Nobody would listen. Ned Stark saw me with the King’s body and when I explained, he said he wasn’t interested in my “feeble excuses.” I tried to tell my story a million times. Nobody listens. I’m just the villain.

Brienne: Yikes. Narratively, we started this book series out pretty strongly depicting Ned Stark as the classic “good guy” with you as being an evil, conceited villain. But now it’s almost as if the moral of the story is that most humans are neither good nor evil – but merely shades of gray. Ned tried to be an honorable and good man, but his own piety and honor actually led to avoidable deaths and warfare. You appeared to be vain, oath-breaking, self-loving man that would callously do anything in his own self interests… but really, you do it to protect the people you love and care about!

Jaime: Correct.

Brienne: You did throw that kid out the window though, so let’s not fucking pretend that you’re Mother Theresa all of a sudden.

Jaime then passes out in the hot bath water. Because, you know, he lost a hand and everything.

Later, they join Lord Bolton for dinner.

Bolton: Who wants prunes?

Jaime: No thanks.

Bolton: You know, Kingslayer. I got a letter from Edmure Tully saying that he’d offer a thousand old dragons for me to send him back to you. I got another letter from Lord Karstark saying that he’d offer me the hand of his daughter for your head.

Jaime: Haha, Vargo Hoat is such a dipshit. He must have thought that Karkstark offered you the HEAD of his daughter for my HAND. Get it? GET IT? Because he cut my hand off!

Bolton: Yes. I get it. Moot point though.

Jaime: Oh really. Why?

Bolton: Two reasons. First of all, I’m already married.

Jaime: Oh, I heard you were a widow. You got re-married? Congrats! Who’s the lucky lady who gets to see your leech-covered ass?

Bolton: Lady Walda Frey.

Jaime: Isn’t she the super fat one?

Bolton: Yes. Lord Walder offered me to marry any one of his granddaughters and in exchange I would get a dowry equal to the weight of that daughter. So I picked the fattest one.

Jaime: Well, that’s just sensible.

Bolton: Sensible like eating these prunes. They keep you regular.

Jaime: Stop talking about gross prunes, weirdo. Why do you want me to eat these prunes so bad? Are these prunes poisoned?

Bolton: No. You are my guest and we have broken bread. It would be against all decency to kill someone who is my guest. Here in the North, we hold the laws of hospitality to be sacred. I would never ever do such a… a… a… hehehe… sorry… sorry… I can’t go on…. I… I can’t even say that with a straight face.  What… what were we talking about again?

Jaime: Your fat wife.

Bolton: Oh yeah, right. So I married her because she’s fat and I got all that gold for it. Plus, ya know… the bigger the cushion, the sweeter the pushin’.

Jaime: Too much info about your fetishes. But you said there were two reasons that the Karstark offer was moot. What’s the other reason?

Bolton: Oh, it’s because Lord Karstark is fucking dead. I told you that back in Chapter 31, you dipshit.

Jaime: Ah. Good point. Sorry, I remember now. It’s just, you know, I got my HAND CUT OFF and was dying from an infection and everything. It’s easy to forget stuff I was told in that confused state.

Bolton: Anyway, it looks like me and Edmure Tully might be family soon though. I should send him a prune gift basket.

Jaime: How’s that?

Bolton: Edmure is also marrying a Frey. Lady Roslin Frey. It’s to make up for the fact that Robb Stark broke his vow to marry into the Freys and instead married Jayne Westerling.

Brienne: WHAT?! NO! That’s impossible! King Robb Stark would never betray a vow like that! The Starks are honorable and would never do anything bad!

Jaime: Hey dumbass, did you LITERALLY just forget the revelation you had in the bathtub about shades of gray?

Bolton: And while we’re speaking of marriages, the Stark daughter Arya has been found alive and I plan to return her north.

Jaime: Hrm. Interesting. Based on the general way you’re stating that, it COULD be interpreted that you’re aware of the Brotherhood without Banners having Arya with an ultimate plan to ransom her back. But you’re not exactly saying that. Almost as if your statement about Arya is inconsistent with what we currently know about the situation. Plus we also know that you obviously have no clue who Arya is or what she looks like, considering that she was your cupbearer for a while and you had no clue.

Bolton: So who wants prunes? I am so fucking regular. These things are amazing, people.

Jaime: ENOUGH WITH THE PRUNES!

Bolton: More prunes for me then!

Brienne: Lord Bolton, if you know where the Lady Arya is… you must give her to me! The deal I made with Lady Stark was to return Jaime to Kings Landing in exchange for both daughters – Sansa and Arya.

Bolton: Is this bitch still talking to me? Ugh. You are annoying. Anyway… I DO plan on sending Jaime back to Kings Landing.  However, Hoat cutting off your hand presents me with a problem.

Jaime: I mean, it presents ME with a problem. I’m not sure how it presents YOU with a problem.

Bolton: Ah, well it was actually pretty clever. You see, I plan to turn over Harrenhal to Hoat when I lave.

Brienne: WHAT?! NO WAY!

Bolton: -SHUT UP, WOMAN! Anyway, as I was saying… Hoat is kind of fucked no matter what he does. He betrayed the Lannisters, so he knows that he is on their shitlist. Once I leave this castle to him, they will surely attack it and he’ll be completely destroyed. He doesn’t have a chance. But I am now, hypothetically, Hoat’s Liege Lord. If you are maimed, then Lord Tywin might assume that it was done under my orders and that I am ultimately responsible. It kills a couple of birds with one stone. It makes you, a great warrior, less of a threat on the battlefield. It dimishes your overall trade value to whatever side I decide to send you to. And it might direct some of Tywin’s rage at me rather than Hoat. It’s pretty smart.

Jaime: Well, I guess since you’re explaining that all to me… that when I get back to Kings Landing you’d like for me to explain to Tywin and Cersei that you had NOTHING to do with my hand being cut off, that it was all Hoat’s fault, and that you were a gracious and wonderful host to me.

Bolton: Pretty much.

Jaime: Okay, cool. I can send that message to Kings Landing. I can absolve you of any guilt.

Bolton: Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. I want a clean slate. Clean like my colon. Now I can send you there under a well-armed guard to protect you and MAKE SURE that you get there.

Brienne: Do not forget that an exchange for Lady Stark’s daughtes Sansa and Arya is part of this deal once Jaime gets there!

Bolton: Listen you dumb bitch, that dumb deal is bullshit. Besides, Lady Sansa is already married to the Imp.

Brienne: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA?

Jaime: Hahaha. That must have made Tyrion happy.

Bolton: Anyway, get the fuck out of here. I’ll have the captain of my guard, Steelshanks, escort you safely.

Brienne: Well, we best be on our way then!

Bolton: We? What are you talking about? There is no “we” in this. Ser Jaime is part of the deal. You don’t have anything to do with this.

Brienne: I’m sorry, what? You’re confusing me.

Bolton: Well, I’m already taking Jaime away from Vargo Hoat. It would be a shame if I deprived him of both of his prizes. If I were you, woman, I’d worry less about Stark daughters and more about where you’re going to get all these sapphires from before Vargo Hoat RAPES AND MURDERS YOU TO DEATH.

Everyone sits there awkwardly at the table.

Bolton: Now who wants some prunes?

Jaime: Is that literally the only dinner option we have? 

ASoS 36: Davos IV

Davos is still stuck in his dank, dark cell at Dragonstone with his cellmate, Alester Florent.

Alester: I hate this so much! I wish I was free! This is all just a huge misunderstanding!

Davos: Ugh. I liked it better when I was in solitary confinement.

Suddenly, a bunch of noise can be heard. Someone is coming closer. But who?

Ser Axell Florent: Me!

Alester: Oh, thank goodness! My dear younger brother! You’re here to set me free.

Axell: Nope. I’m here for Davos.

Alester: WHAAAAA?

Davos: Well, I guess it’s time for me to be executed, huh? That’s probably for the best. I’d rather be beheaded than spend more time in here with Alester.

Alester: Dude, I’m not that bad, am I?

Axell: No, we’re not here to execute you, Davos. Although if it were up to me, I would burn you in a sacrifice to the red god for your treason. The King has asked to see you.

Davos: Oh. Sweet.

They open the cell and let Davos out.

As they walk towards the Stone Drum and the Chamber of the Painted Table, Ser Axell begins to whisper to Davos.

Axell: Don’t think that just because Stannis trusts you that I will. I know you mean to commit treason against him! For I have seen it in the flames of R’hllor!

Davos: Dude, you are fucking crazy.

Axell: I have also seen in the flames who Stannis must choose as his NEXT Hand of the King, replacing my treacherous brother. ME! ME! THAT’S WHO!

Davos: Uhh. Okay.

Axell: So if Stannis asks who should be the next hand, you better tell him me… okay? If not… well… Dragonstone is a very dangerous place, ya know! You could have an “accident” and fall off the side of a wall any time.

Davos: Wow, aren’t you just a lovely D-Team supporting character.

In the Chamber of the Painted table, Davos sees his king. But Stannis looks ROUGH. In the last few months since Davos last saw him, Stannis appears to have aged 10 years.

Stannis: Ah, Davos. Do you know what the punishment for treason is?

Davos: Uh, yeah. It’s death, bro.

Stannis: Indeed it is.

Davos: But we’re not talking about me, right? We’re talking about Alester Florent.

Stannis: Correct.

Davos: Give him a break, man. I know he was a super annoying cellmate to me. But he doesn’t deserve to die for it. He didn’t MEAN to commit treason.

Stannis: And yet he did. How fucked up is that? How is it that my shitty brother Robert always had people rally to his side? Even his enemies. They’d be on opposing sides and would fight a battle. And then afterwards they’d go drinking an d become besties. Yet me? For me, all I seem to instill in people is betrayal.

Davos: Probably because you’re a rigid, unlikable douche.

Stannis: What was that?

Davos: What? Huh? I didn’t say anything. I think Axell Foley over here said something.

Axell: HEY! It's Florent!

Stannis: Speaking of Ser Axell… I’d like to hear your thoughts on a matter, Ser Davos.  Ser Axell says I should resume the war. That I should attack Claw Island, the seat of the House Celtigar. The Celtigars defected to Team Lannister after the battle.  Axell says I should attack them because they are weak and have poor defenses. That I should put his castle to the torch and put his people to the sword.

Axell: Yeah, it’s a GREAT idea! An idea worthy of someone who should be the next HAND OF THE KING. WINK! WINK! Don’t you agree, Davos?

Davos: Did you just say, “Wink! Wink!” to me out loud?

Stannis: Answer Ser Axell’s question, Ser Davos. I want to know what you think of this plan.

Davos: Truly, my King?

Stannis: Yes, Davos.

Axell: AND REMEMBER ABOUT THE ACCIDENT THING, DAVOS! REMEMBER THAT!

Davos: I think the idea is fucking stupid. Not only is it stupid, but it is also cowardly. To attack and pillage smallfolk simply because what side their lord supported? Total bitch move!

Axell: HEY NOW! HOW DARE YOU! They committed TREASON by siding against the King!

Davos: Well… yes… it is true that it is every man’s duty to be loyal to their king… even if their lord chooses otherwise. But let me try to think of some example where such a situation like that didn’t occur. Hrm. Maybe using someone in this room. Maybe someone like… you, King Stannis.

Stannis: Say what now?

Axell: TREASON! TREASON!

Davos: Your brother, Robert, started a rebellion against King Aerys II. Was Aerys a good king? Not really. Was he mad? Yes… towards the end he was absolutely batshit insane. Yet it was your duty to be loyal to your king, wasn’t it? Instead you sided with your brother, Robert.

Axell: TREASON! OMFG! EXECUTE HIM! I will get your sword and we can execute Davos on the spot RIGHT NOW!

Stannis pauses for a second, giving a glare at both men.

Stannis: AHAHAHA. Get the fuck out of here with your whack ass plan, Axell. See? This is why I fucking love you, Davos. You’re not an ass kisser or a brown-noser like this piece of shit Axell right here. You’re exactly right. His plan is cowardly and shitty as fuck. You always know how to break down some bullshit and tell me the truth. To speak from your heart.

Axell: But… treason… my King! Treason! He must—

Stannis: --I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, AXELL! I meant that shit LITERALLY. Leave!

Axell grumbles and leaves.

Stannis: The truth is a bitter pill to swallow, Davos. The choice I had to make between my King and my brother was a nearly impossible one. And yet I chose my brother.

Davos: I don’t even know why you’re fighting this hard to be king. Fuck this. It’s not worth all the trouble.

Stannis: It’s not that I WANT to be King. It is my DUTY to be king. I must. I am the rightful heir to Robert, as Cersei’s children are incest bastards. I am king by law and it is my obligation to restore sanity and justice to this crazy world.

Davos: Oh. If you say so.

Stannis: So tell me, Onion Knight. Why the fuck were you going around the island telling every single human being that you planned to kill Melisandre?

Davos: Because I planned to kill Melisandre.

Stannis: Yeah, yeah. I get that. But why?

Davos: She is the reason we’re in all this trouble! She sacrificed my sons to the flames on the Blackwater. She is the reason we lost. That witch!

Stannis: The Red Witch set no flames upon the Blackwater. That was the Imp’s doing. And if you should blame anyone for the loss… it should be me. I sent her away when I needed her the most. If I had brought her with me, we would have won the battle. But I had such hubris. I had such self-confidence that I could win the war without the help of the Lord of Light. Well, it looks like I got knocked back into my place.

Davos: She is evil! She killed Maester Cressen!

Stannis: Dude, Cressen tried to poison her glass and then he drank from that very same glass. Cressen killed Cressen. Just like Bret screwed Bret. MONTREAL SCREWJOB!!!!

Davos: She killed Ser Cortnay Penrose. And Renly!

Stannis: She was with me when Renly died. Surely you can’t blame her for that.

Davos: Dude, she’s MAGICAL.

Stannis: I don’t even know why you’re hating on her. It was actually Melisandre that told me to give you another chance. It was Melisandre that told me that you are part of R’hllor’s plans.

Davos: Say what now? That girl must really be crushing on me. I’ve tried to tell her that I don’t like her in that way. But she just doesn’t seem to get it. She’s some crazy bitch that wants to murder people. Like Edric Storm. I bet she wanted to kidnap Robert’s bastard son so that she could sacrifice him to the flames, huh? He’s just a poor, sick, innocent boy!

Stannis: No harm shall come to the boy. Why does everyone think I want to set that kid on fire? I needed him as evidence to show what one of Robert’s REAL children looks like. Compared to fucking Joffrey. Now get to your knees, asshole.

Davos: Huh?

Stannis: I SAID GET ON YOUR KNEES!

Stannis pulls his sword out.

Davos: Wait… I thought we WEREN’T killing me.

Stannis: I’m not. I’m making you a fucking Lord. You’re the only guy around here who actually gives me any good advice.

Davos: A… a Lord, King Stannis? I’m just a smuggler and an onion knight! Low born! I am not worthy of the title!

Stannis: I am the King and so I will say who is worthy of that. Now rise, LORD Davos Seaworth, Lord of the Rainwood, Admiral of the Narrow Sea, and HAND OF THE KING.

Davos: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA???

Stannis: You heard me. Here. Have this.

Stannis throws him one of those adorable “Hand of the King” necklaces with the interlocking hands.

Stannis: Sorry. We’re in the middle of a war and stranded on an island. I didn’t have time to make a special necklace where all the fingers on the hand are chopped off. HAHAHA. GET IT! Because I did that to you! I chopped off your fucking fingers! HAHAHA.

Davos: Yes. You cut my fingers off, then you made me a knight, then you threw me in a dank prison with no light for months like I’m some kind of Thai child soccer player, then you make me Hand of the King.

Stannis: Correct.

Davos: Your lords will never listen to or obey me.

Stannis: Then I’ll set them on fire and make new lords.

Davos: And you wonder why people don’t like you like they liked your brother?

Melisandre then walks in, with a covered dish.

Davos: OH SHIT. How long have you been sneakily hiding in the shadows and listening to everything going on here?

Mel: A while. Whattup?

Davos: What’s with that covered dish?  In addition to being an evil witch are you also now a cook? What you got under there? Some fuckin’ Totinos Pizza Rolls?

Mel: Shut up, Davos. We have a war to worry about. And not this small war between kings. Stannis has a new war to worry about. The great war! The war against the coming winter and he-who-should-not-be-na—

Davos: --Voldemort?

Mel: STAHP!

Stannis: Yes. The battle has begun and the one true king must unite Westeros and fight the coming Winter. And Mel tells me that has to be me. For some reason.

Mel: Because you are a righteous man! Because you are the prince that was promised and the red comet was the herald of your coming!

Davos: So damn tired hearing about that fucking comet. So let’s see your shitty dinner. Open up that plate.

Mel then turns to King Stannis, making a sad face.

Mel: This is not the way! Yes, this will work. But it is not enough. You should give me the boy and I can use him to wake the stone dragon!

Davos: Dafuq you talking about, Mel? Are you on acid?

Stannis: No, Melisandre. I shall not give you the boy. He is an innocent. You promised that king’s blood will work. So let’s get this over with. I don’t need to hear you talk about DRAGONS again.

Mel: UGH. But I want to burn him.

Stannis: I said no, bitch.

Davos: Is everyone taking crazy pills? What are you talking about? What’s in the covered dish? Is it Gwyneth Paltrow’s head?

Mel takes the cover off the dish. Sitting on the plate are three leeches. Mel then walks over and stars to fire up the chamber’s Big Green Egg Grill & Smoker, The Ultimate BBQ Cooker‎™

Davos: Eww. Are we grilling leeches for dinner?

Mel: No. We leeched Edric Storm’s blood because he’s sick. Now I’m going to sacrifice his blood on this ULTIMATE BBQ COOKER. It’s not as good as sacrificing the boy himself. But I guess it will have to do.

Davos: Right. Sacrificing an innocent boy with king's blood would be a terrible idea. I wouldn’t let you do that. If you were to try to do something like that, I would probably take that boy and help him escape this island on a row boat. And then he would row for years and years and years and not be seen again for, like, four seasons.

Stannis: Yes.  That sounds like something that would happen if I wanted to sacrifice a bastard son of my brother, whether his name be “Edric” or “Gendry.” However, that is not the current circumstance, so you don’t really have to worry about anything like that.

Davos: Cool.

Mel hands Stannis a leech. Stannis looks at it.

Stannis: The usurper, Joffrey “Baratheon” Lannister.

Stannis throws the leech on the Big Green Egg.

Big Green Egg: *sizzle*

Leech: … [Translation: AGHHH!!!!]

Davos: Maybe I’m just hungry from getting all that shitty dungeon food, but that actually smells pretty good.

Mel hands Stannis a second leech.

Stannis: The usurper, Balon Greyjoy.

Stannis throws the leech on the grill. Mel hands him a final leech.

Stannis: The usurper…ROBB STARK!!!

He throws the leech on the grill.

Davos: Sooo…

Stannis: …

Mel: …

Davos: So what’s up? Are we eating these or what? I guess it’s probably pretty similar to a blood sausage or something.  It’s sort of weird that you’d name the leeches before you cooked them though. Especially that you named them after the three surviving kings left, other than you, in this “War of the Five Kings.”

Mel: No. He’s using blood magic to kill them. Sort of like a voodoo doll and shit.

Davos: Oh wow. Crazy! So those three characters are going to die?

Mel: Yes.

Davos: Like instantly? Or will the magic simply forget about Balon Greyjoy for, like, four seasons… just like a boy rowing in a boat for four seasons? 

Mel: No. It should work pretty quickly. Balon Greyjoy won’t be completely forgotten about and live for four more years. In fact, he'll actually die first.

Davos: How quickly?

Mel: Like in the next few of chapters they should all be dead. Definitely before the end of this book.

Davos: Yikes. That’s fast.

Mel: Right. It’s fast because the Big Green Egg is designed to contain the heat by using two draft doors, one at the bottom and another at the top. The bottom draft door slides horizontally creating more or less air flow. This works in conjunction with the top draft door, that swivels left and right, creating more or less updraft, and in turn adjusting the temperature used in the cook. It’s guaranteed to be the most efficient way to effectively burn leeches of King’s Blood to R’hllor and guarantee a quick death to our enemies.

Davos: This conversation is the worst. 

ASoS 35: Catelyn IV

Lord Hoster is finally dead.

Cat: Jesus, that took forever. He died a lot faster in the TV show. All they did was cast a guy to play a dead body. That was it.

Edmure: Well, time for his funeral, I guess.

They go outside for his funeral. In the Riverlands, it's a tradition to send the Lord's body out on the river on a boat  to sail away. But you're also supposed to shoot a flaming arrow from the boat as it sails away so that it sets afire in the distance. This is an AWESOME tradition, by the way. 

Edmure: Ugh. Look, the Freys sent some people here to "pay their respects" to our dad. But it's meant as an insult... a cripple and a bastard!

"Lame" Lothar Frey: HEY! We're standing right here!

Walder Rivers: Yeah!

Robb: Now, now, Edmure. These are our guests and they should be given courtesies as guests.

Lothar: Indeed. If you were a guest of the Freys, we'd treat you with courtesy.

Robb: True. That is a very factual statement.

Edmure: Why are we talking about guest rights and treatment so much? We were just talking about it in that chapter with the Night's Watch as guests of Craster. It seems like we're talking about it all the time now.

Robb: Odd.  Anyway, Lothar... I'd like to give you a place as one of Lord Hoster's pallbearers.

Lothar: Thank you, King Robb. Although it's sort of messed up that you're making a cripple a pallbearer for your dead grandfather.

And so the funeral procession occurs, and Hoster is sent out to the river. Now it's the job of his heir, Edmure, to shoot a flaming arrow to send his father to heaven or the bottom of the river or whatever the fuck is supposed to happen.

Edmure shoots once. He missed. Then he shoots again. And misses. 

Edmure: FUCK!

Cat: Now, now. You're allowed to be nervous. Everybody misses their first shot.

Lothar: Yeah, but he missed two.

Edmure: SHUT UP! I CAN MAKE IT!

Edmure shoots again. 

And misses. 

Edmure: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCK!

He pulls back to shoot again, but now Hoster's body is on the horizon. Almost completely out of sight and fading into the fog. There is no way he can make it. 

Blackfish: Ugh. Let a fucking pro handle this. I'm so tired of amateur hour.

The Blackfish steps up and takes one shot, even though the boat that Hoster is on has now vanished. The arror vanishes into the horizon as well. But then a giant burst of flame... the flames from the ship... go up. 

Everyone: YAY!

Edmure: Damnit.

Blackfish: And that was me barely even trying.

Edmure storms off. Cat knows not to try to comfort him because he's a moody little bitch. She already had to lie to him when be broke down crying the other day. He asked if dad had said anything about him. Cat told him yes. But really all he was saying was "tansy, tansy, tansy." 

Cat and the Blackfish instead go to visit with King Robb and Queen Jeyne. The latter two both offer their condolences. 

Robb: I wish I had known grandfather better, mom.

Cat: Yeah, well. That's all the past now. I'm more worried about the future. Like getting my daughters back. Why haven't I heard anything back from Brienne and Cleos Frey about Jaime being safely delivered to Kings Landing?

Blackfish: I mean... uhhh... because the odds of them safely reaching Kings Landing are pretty fucking low. There is a war, after all.

Lothar Frey then walks up.

Lothar: Oh hey. I just wanted to know if I could have an audience with you this evening? You know. Smooth over that big misunderstanding about the wedding thing.

Robb: Oh, of course. Of course. This is all just a big misunderstanding. I'm sure we'll clear it all up in an amicable way!

Lothar leaves, and then Robb talks privately with his mom. 

Cat: Oh WOW. You actually want to talk to me in private? It's like you've been avoiding me lately. What with you having your new wife and everything.

Robb: Yeah mom, she makes me happy. Everything else makes me miserable. Being King sucks. I've won every single battle I've been in. And yet it seems like I'm losing the war. Lord Tarly just won a victory at Duskendale, and now Robett Glover is a prisoner. I'm going to try to offer Martyn Lannister to Tarly in a trade for Glover. And speaking of trades... I should have listened to you and traded Jaime for Sansa. Then I could have offered a marriage alliance between Sansa and the Tyrells and maybe they would have been on our side instead of the Lannister side. Damnit.

Cat: You're doing good, son. Don't feel bad. Your father would be very proud of you. Odd that you're talking about marrying Sansa off to someone though.

Robb: Oh... do you want to know why Sansa getting married is on my mind? Here... look at this!

He hands his mom a parchment from King's Landing, notifying them that Sansa has been wed to Tyrion Lannister.

Cat: WHAT?! Is this some sort of prank?!

Robb: Nope.

Cat: THE IMP?! THE IMP?! The Imp swore to return Sansa to me if Jaime was sent back! I should have let Lysa kill him when she had the chance. Why did I ever speak up for him?

Robb: Yeah, well oathbreaking obviously runs in Lannister blood. I would never break an oath I made like that.

Cat: You mean like your oath to marry that Frey girl?

Robb: SHHHH!!! Look, what I'm trying to say is that we need to free Sansa and kill Tyrion so that she's no longer married to him. You know this is just some way the Lannisters are trying to get control of Winterfell, right?

Cat: Of course. If something were to happen to you... Sansa would be heir. Which would make their child the heir afterwards. I've already lost my husband, Bran and Rickon. I'd go mad if I lost you too!

Robb: Whoa, whoa, whoa, mom. Why all this talk of me dying? I'm perfectly fine and healthy.

Cat: Still. You have to fight a war. It's very dangerous. Perhaps you should just CONSIDER bending the knee to the Lannisters.

Robb: No.

Cat: There is no shame in doing that! Torrhen Stark bent the knee to save his people. So can you. We need peace.

Robb: Is peace why you freed Jaime?

Cat: No. I freed him to get my daughters back. But peace would have been a bonus.

Robb: The Lannisters killed my dad. No way will I make peace with them. Fuck that.

Cat: Please! Reconsider! As long as you're at war, there will be plots against you. Plots against your wife!

Robb: Nah.

Later that night, it's dinner. Lothar Frey is acting very un-Frey-like, and is being a perfect and polite guest. 

Lothar: My father Walder sends his regards.

Cat: *whispering under her breath* No he doesn't.

Lothar: He is obviously not happy that the betrothal between Robb and the Freys was broken... but he remembers what it is like to be love and striken by beauty... and to instantly fall in love!

Cat: *whispering* No fucking way that old pile of shit actually said that.

Robb: I've got to say, this Lothar Frey seems like a great guy. All the other Freys seem like rude, sniveling douchebags. But this guy is so polite and kind!  Definitely not the type of guy who would be one of the chief engineers of the most bloody and gruesome massacre imaginable!

Lothar: Oh, and also Lord Frey wanted to pass you word that he has just received from Walder and Walder, the Freys who WERE being fostered at Winterfell.

Robb: Were? What do you mean "were?"

Lothar: Ah. Well. Winterfell burned down.

Robb: WHAT?!

Lothar: Yes. Walder and Walder report that Winterfell was burned to the ground and pretty much everyone inside of it was murdered. They are now living at the Dreadfort, where Roose Bolton's bastard son Ramsay is taking care of them.

Cat: What? EVERYONE is dead?

Lothar: Yep. Or almost everyone.

Cat: Ser Rodrik?

Lothar: Oh yeah. Ser Rodrick is dead as fuck.

Cat: Septon Chayle?

Lothar: Dead. Although they say his ghost haunts the ruins, asking people if they've returned library books and threatening to come back as a typo in Chapter 49 of A Dance with Dragons.

Robb: I... I can't believe this! This is crazy! Surely the story can't be true. For one, I know that Roose Bolton's bastard son Ramsay is dead.

Lothar: Hey look man, I'm just the messenger. This is what the message says. It says Roose Bolton's bastard son, Ramsay.

Robb: I'm so confused. HEY! Does it say anything about what happened to Theon Greyjoy?

Lothar: Nope.

Edmure: Well Lothar, that's terrible news and all. But I want to get back to the point of making things right between the Freys with the Starks and Tullys. Did your father receive the offer I sent him?

Lothar: Ah yes, yes. Your offer to bring us back to peace. My father has said he will renew his dealty to the King in the North on two conditions. FIRST... the King come to him to apologize in person, face to face.

Robb: Well that sounds sensible. I will be a guest in house after all, and thus subject to guest's rights and totally safe.

Cat: True. That is how that works.

Lothar: And the second condition is that you, Edmure Tully, must marry Walder's fifth daughter, Roslin.

Edmure: WHAT? When there was the proposed marriage alliance with Robb... Robb was given the chance to choose which girl he wanted.

Lothar: Well, Robb Stark is the Fucking King in the North. You're just the Lord of Riverrun.

Edmure: Can I at least meet her before I get married? See her face?

Lothar: You'll see her face at the wedding.

Edmure: FUUUUUUCCCCCK! This just isn't my chapter, is it?

Robb: Look Uncle, you pretty much HAVE to do this. It's the only way to make things right with the Freys again.

Blackfish: And it will also serve as an amends for how you fucked everything up at the Battle of the Fords.

Edmure: How long are you going to hold that over my damn head, dude?  FINE. WHATEVER. I'll marry the damn girl!

Lothar: Oh, and Roslin's favorite color is red. So the theme is going to be a red wedding. *wink*wink*

Robb: I don't get it.

ASoS 34: Arya VI

Our little sociopath, Arya Stark, last left us with a cliffhanger where some "Lannister" had just been caught. But as we've seen... it's not Jaime. Jaime is over with Roose Bolton. So who is this mystery Lannister? 

Sandor Clegane, AKA the Hound: It's me.

Oh. 

Arya, Gendry, the Hound, and the Brotherhood are all standing around in a cave. 

When last we saw the Hound, he was getting a little rape-ey with Sansa Stark in Kings Landing when the entire city was on fire during the Battle of the Blackwater.  He obviously fled the city towards the Riverlands. And here he is. Caught by the Brotherhood without Banners. 

Hound: Where the hell am I? Is this some sort of cave?

Lem Lemoncloak: Yes it is. This underground cave is a safe haven from wolves and lions alike. Away from the war.

Hound: Is it?

Lem: I mean not really. Considering that you're a Lion and we're about to put you on trial and stuff.

Hound: WHAT?! On trial for what? AND HOLY SHIT! Is that Thoros of Myr?!

Thoros: Yes. It's me.

Hound: When last I saw you... you were a fat guy with a shaved head. Now you're all skinny and you let your hair grow out. Well, what hair you have left since you're balding now.

Thoros: Well, the Lord of Light has woken my heart and gotten rid of my vanity. I no longer care about things like physical appearance.

Hound: Yeah, I can obviously tell that. So what am I being put on trial for?

Thoros: All the destruction and carnage here in the countryside. All the rape, pillage and murder.

Hound: I didn't do that.

Thoros: Huh?

Hound: I didn't do any of that. It was my brother. I'm Sandor Clegane. Eddard Stark sent you out to catch my brother, Gregor Clegane. The Mountain. He's the one that was roaming the countryside and killing people.

Thoros: Well. I mean a Clegane is a Clegane, right? You're all Lannister lackies.

Hound: So I'm going to be put on trial for the sins of my brother?

From the shadows emerges another man. This man is ugly as fuck. He's wearing an eye patch and the side of his face looks like it's been caved in. He has a scar on his neck. He looks ROUGH. 

Mystery Man: HOUND! We were sent by King Robert to do justice. We fight for the realm.

Hound: King Robert is dead, you fucking idiot Dondarrion. Why bother?

Arya: WHOA! Wait! Did you just call this dude Dondarrion?

Hound: Yes. That's Beric Dondarrion, little boy.

Arya: I'M NOT A BOY!

Hound: Oh, I see. Well I guess yo--OH SHIT. Are you Arya Stark?! Don't you know you're supposed to be dead, girl?

Arya: Well, I'm not. And NO WAY is that Beric Dondarrion. I've seen him before. At the joust. He was handsome and that fuckwit Jeyne Poole, who looks nothing like me, had a huge crush on him. This guy is just ugly.

Beric: Offensive.

Hound:  Look, Beric. King Robert never gave a shit about the realm. You're going to put me on trial in his name? Fuck that! If there was something Robert couldn't fuck, drink or fight... then he didn't care about it. Although technically I guess he did fuck the Kingdom.

Huntsman: What about the murders! The rapes! The savagery at the Mummer's Ford!

Hound: I don't know about any of that shit.

Huntsman: It was done by your brother!

Hound: And AGAIN... I... AM... NOT... MY... BROTHER. How fucking stupid are you all? I wasn't there. You know where else I wasn't at? Around Rhaegar Targaryen's children with Elia Martell. Did my brother murder those children? Probably. I don't know. Wasn't there. I don't even like him. If you captured him and executed him... I'd actually be sort of happy because he's a giant fucking dick. Is it a crime to be born a Clegane?

Beric: Well, you are a giant fucking dick too.

Hound: True. But that's not a crime. You know who else are dicks? I suggest you all get some mirrors and look at yourselves. I know you like to think that your shit don't stank, but--

Harwin: --Lean a little bit closer, see roses really smell like--

Hound: --NO! Shut up!

Beric and Thoros then huddle for a second and talk. 

Beric: Well guys, I think this Clegane guy has a point. Technically we don't have any crime he committed that we can put him on trial for.

Everyone: Awwwww. No cave fight today!

Arya: WAIT! WAIT! WAIT EVERYONE! He killed Mycah, the butcher's boy! He was my friend. And the Hound murderd him in cold blood.

Beric: Hrm. Is this true?

Hound: What? Oh right... right. The Butcher's boy. Sure it is! But that kid attacked Prince Joffrey.

Arya: It's NOT TRUE! That's a lie! Joffrey lied and made that story up!

Hound: Your sister backed him up.

Arya: LOOK, FIRST OF ALL... MY SISTER IS A GIANT CUNT. And second... she didn't really. She just acted like a fainting southern belle and pretended like she couldn't remember.

Hound: Whatever. Even if he didn't do it, I was still ordered to kill him. I was only obeying orders.

Arya: Yeah, which is what the NAZIS said.

Hound: Shit, gurl... you gonna go and Godwin's Law me like that?

Beric: Hrm. Looks like we have a classic "he said, she said" situation here. There is only one way that we can find out which side is true.

Harwin: A lengthy trial that utilizes material evidence, witnesses, and an unbiased jury of peers?

Thoros: No. That's stupid. A trial by battle. The Lord of Light will decide!

Everyone: YAAAAAAAY! CAVE FIGHT! CAVE FIGHT! CAVE FIGHT!

Arya: WHAT?! The Hound is... like... a REALLY GOOD fighter. This seems like a terrible idea.

Beric: Nah. I'm sure I can beat him.

Arya: Really? Because you look in rough shape. You're missing an eye. Your head looks caved in. You look like you lose fights. A lot. I kept hearing all these stories on the road about people that claimed they killed you. And even though you're alive and here. I can see why everyone thought they did kill you.

Beric: Eh.

Dondarrion takes off his armor and exposes the rest of his body. It looks to be in just as bad shape as his face. More wounds. More bandages. More leaking blood. He takes up a sword and shield. The Hound is also given a sword and shield. 

Hound: So we fight now?

Thoros: No. First I lead a prayer to R'hllor, Lord of Light.

Thoros starts praying. Beric's sword immediately bursts into flames.

Hound: Oh WHAT THE HELL?! You know that I'm afraid of fire, right? NOT. FAIR.

Thoros: Meh.

Arya: Wait... that's... that's not some sort of trick where Thoros sneakily put some wildfire onto the sword. That fire appeared after a prayer. That fire... is... is... is... MAGIC!

Gendry: Oh shit! Spooky! What are we gonna do, Arya?

Arya: Well, your sexy ass can go get some popcorn, come back, and we can eat it together while I sit on your lap and watch the Hound get his ass handed to him.

Gendry: What?

Arya: NOTHING! I SAID NOTHING! JUST WATCH THE FIGHT!

And so they watch the fight. 

The fight goes back and forth. The two seem pretty evenly matched. Sometimes one get the advantage. Sometimes the other. At least until Beric hits the Hound's wooden shield with his flaming sword and it catches on fire. 

Hound: AGHH!!! AGHHH! FIRE! FIRE!

Arya: Hahaha, sweet. The Hound is totally about to die.

The flames then spread from the shield to the Hound's shirt, crawling up his arm. 

Beric: And now, Clegane... for the final blow on your--

Hound: --AGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

In rage and fear-filled madness, the Hound charges at Beric and smashes his shield in half with his sword. He then stabs Beric in the chest. 

Beric falls down.

Dead.

Arya: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Hound: HELP! HELP! HELP! WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE PUT OUT THIS FIRE!

Thoros: Oh shit. He won? I guess we better help him.

They help put out the fire. Some of the guys then take Beric's body away, including Thoros. 

Huntsman: Fuck that. I know the Hound won the fight. But we should still lock him up in a cage anyway.

Arya: Yeah! And kill him!

Harwin: No, Hunstman. R'hloor has judged him to be innocent. We must respect that.

Arya: You mean you're not going to kill him?

Harwin: No. Of course not.

Arya: Fuck that.

Arya looks around and sees Greenbeard standing next to her. She snatches his dagger from his belt and runs at the Hound.

Arya: AGGHHHH!!!!! DIE!!!!!

Hound: Well DO IT! DO IT ALREADY! KILL ME!

Arya stops in her tracks. She stares at him. He won the fight... but he's the one that looks defeated. There are burns all over his body. He's acting like he WANTS to be killed. 

Arya: Well, killing you is less fun if you want to be--

Lem: *YOINK*

As Arya is hesitating, Lem takes her knife away and gives it back to Greenbeard.

Arya: NO! NO! GIVE IT BACK! I ONLY HESITATED FOR A MOMENT! I STILL WANT TO KILL HIM! HE CAN GO TO HELL!

Voice: He already has, Arya.

Arya: Huh?

Everyone turns around to look and see who said it. 

It was Dondarrion.

Arya: Uhm. Dude. We just saw you die.

Beric: No you didn't.

Arya: Sure we did. I saw it. The Hound saw it. EVERYONE SAW IT.

Beric: It was just a flesh wound.

Arya: NO MORE DAMN MONTY PYTHON JOKES!