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?
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?
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