~Intermission~

A Jingle of Icy Hot™ Ice and Fire is on a one month(-ish) hiatus while I'm on a bunch of travel for a while.

A Feast for Crows begins on November 22. A great day! Except, ya know, for Kennedy.

 In the meantime, maybe you'd like to...  

• Start from the beginning
• Then go to the bottom left corner and hit "Newer Post" to proceed one-by-one, in order. 

• Or go to the beginning of:
• A Clash of Kings
• A Storm of Swords

•  Possibly, re-read these classics like:
• Bran goes whoopsie out the window 
• Jon and Tyrion become bros 
• Tyrion's first trial by combat
• A golden crown
• Arya gets the first of her many kills 
• The main character dies
• Lil' baby Dragons!
• Learn way too much about the CWA
• Arya becomes THE GHOST OF HARRENHAL, MOTHERFUCKERS! 
• Renly's reign falls pretty short
• He is the prince that was promised, and his is the jingle of icy hot.
• Tyrion on the Blackwater
• Jaime becomes the Kingslayer
• The Knight of the Laughing Tree
• Red Wedding
• Purple Wedding
• The Red Viper's fight goes in an unexpected direction

•  These blogs:
• Ed Ranks Everything
• Art, Renamed

ASoS: Epilogue

Merrett Frey is on the road to Oldstones, completely hung over.

Merrett: Ugh. Snow already in the Riverlands? This is a bad sign. This is going to be a long, cold winter, I bet. I really don't want to have to live through a long, cold winter!

Don't worry. You won't. 

Merrett: Huh? Did someone say something?  Hrm... no... of course not. I'm just hungover and it was probably the wind.

Merrett is bitter about the task assigned to him.  Petyr “Pimple” Frey, one of his stupid-ass cousins or something (not even the Freys can keep track of who is a cousin versus nephew, etc.), went and got himself kidnapped.  Yep, that Beric Dondarrian asshole has been raiding Frey military parties all across the Riverlands ever since the Red Wedding

Merrett knows he’s better than all this crap work and doing BS like rescuing his cousin. He used to be a great knight! But due to a head injury… now everyone just thought he was a useless drunk. In fact, the only thing he was assigned to do at the Red Wedding was to get drunk with the Greatjon and make sure he was taken out. But he couldn’t even do that right, since the Greatjon attacked a bunch of people before he was taken down.

Merrett: I’ll show them all though! Once I get Petyr Pimple back from these outlaws… they’ll show me the respect I deserve!

He arrives at the ruins of Oldstones, where the bandits had sent the note telling him to be.  There, he finds an outlaw playing a harp.

Tom O Sevens: Hey there.

Merrett: Who the hell are you guys?

Tom: Dude, I’m offended. I played at your daughter Amerei's wedding. That’s rough, man.

Merrett: I don’t care who you are.

Tom: Are you sure you don't remember me? Huh? Because we've totally met before. You remember which of your daughters is Amerei, right?  The slutty one. They call her "Gatehouse" because everyone goes in and out of her, all day.

Merrett: HEY! SHUT UP! I’m here to meet Beric!

Lem Lemoncloak: Oh yeah. That’s me. I’m Beric.

Merrett: No you’re not! The bolded part before your line of dialogue clearly indicates that your name is “Lem.”

Other Guy: I’m Beric!

Fourth Guy: I’m Beric!

Fifth Guy: I’m Spartacus! Uhh… I mean, “Beric!”

Merrett: Okay guys, just what the hell is going on here? I demand to see Petyr! I have the gold, like you asked for.

He pulls out the bag and jiggles it, so they can hear the coin.

Lem: Well dismount and come and see him. He’s this way.

Merrett reluctantly does so. They walk away from the ruins of Oldstones and into the woods.

Lem: Here you go! Say hi to Petyr!

And indeed Petyr Pimple is there. Hanging from a tree. Dead.

Merrett: WHAT THE FUCK?! YOU SAID—

Suddenly, the outlaws grab Merrett and tie him up. They throw a rope around his neck.

Merrett: NO! NO! YOU PROMISED! STOP! YOU’D NEVER DARE HANG A FREY!!!

The outlaws all look at each other and start laughing. They then point at Petyr.

Merrett: Oh yeah, I can see now how that statement is super stupid. You literally just hung a Frey. I am sort of super embarrassed for even saying it. Anyway… *ahem*… YOU SAID IF I BROUGHT THE GOLD I WOULD GET HIM BACK! I BROUGHT THE GOLD!  DON’T… DON’T KILL ME! I’M WORTH TWICE AS MUCH GOLD AS PETYR! IF YOU RANSOM ME, I’LL BE WORTH TWICE AS MUCH!

Tom: Hahaha, that’s silly. Walder Frey sends you off with gold to pay a ransom and we kidnap and ransom you too? No way would he fall for that trick a second time in a row.

Lem: But you know what? Maybe I won’t hang you in exchange for you answering a single question.

Merrett: Yes! Yes! Anything! Please! I’ll answer it!

Lem: Was there a dog named Sandor Clegane at the Red Wedding? With a skinny girl or boy of about ten?

Merrett: Huh? What? Clegane? No… I mean… I don’t know. Maybe at one of the camps. But  not at the feast, no.

Tom: Oh, really? Cool. Thanks!

Tom continues to string him up for hanging.

Merrett: STOP! STOP! YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T HANG ME!

Tom: No. I didn’t promise. That guy promised.

Lem: Correct. And I am not hanging you, as promised. But Tom is.

Merrett: PLEASE! STOP! NO! WE HAD TO! ROBB STARK SHAMED US AND DISHONORED US! WE HAD TO RESTORE OUR HONOR! YOU CAN’T JUST MURDER ME!

Tom: Hrm. Don’t know much about honor. But murder, yeah?

Merrett: STOP! STOP! I didn’t have anything to do with the Red Wedding! It was my father, sure! But not me! You can’t prove I did anything!

Lem: Good point. We can’t. If only we had some sort of witness who was there and could say whether you were or not. Oh wait… we do!

Merrett: Huh?

Suddenly, out of the woods emerges a cloaked woman. She pulls her hood odd to reveal her dead face and the giant gash on her neck.

Merrett: Ohh…. Oh SHIT! CAT FUCKING STARK?!

Lady Stoneheart: *nods*

Lem: Oh, and she goes by “Lady Stoneheart” now. It’s sort of a thing. You know. What with Beric giving up his magic immortality juice and giving it to her. So Beric is gone now. You won't see him again.

Merrett: OH MY GOD! THIS IS… IS… IS… MUCH BETTER THAN THE SHOW!

Lem: Yeah, most fans agree. She can’t say that though. What with you filthy Freys cutting her vocal cords out. Hey Lady Stoneheart… was this one there at the Wedding?

Lady Stoneheart: *thumbs up*

Merrett: FUCK! I said to Raymund, "Hey... maybe cut her thumbs off too in case she comes back as a speechless zombie to give a thumbs up or thumbs down as to whether certain Freys were culpable in her death." But did he listen? NO! Of course not! Fucking Raymund!

Tom: Well, bye! *cuts rope*

Merrett: NO, WAIT! I—*CHOKE*

And he dies. Nobody at all feels bad about this because he's a Frey.

Boy, that was a rough fucking book, huh? Jeor Mormont. Balon Greyjoy. Robb. Cat. Grey Wind. Ygritte. Joffrey. The Red Viper. Shae. Tywin Lannister. Lysa Arryn. And that's the super short version of the list. 

The end.

ASoS 80: Sansa VII

Sansa wakes up one morning and is in that sleepy state where she can’t quite remember where she is. Then she does. She’s in the Eyrie with her terrible aunt and cousin. And she’s no longer even Sansa. Now she’s “Alayne Snow,” Littlefinger’s bastard daughter.

Things are not good here. The palace is freezing cold and nearly empty. There is just Aunt Lysa, annoying twat Robert, and Marillion the rapey singer.  Littlefinger isn’t even around that often, because he’s “gone on business.”  And all of Lysa’s lords? They’re not happy either because they all seem to hate Littlefinger and/or resent Lysa for not supporting Robb Stark.

She looks outside into a courtyard and sees it is snowing. It reminds her of Winterfell. And that’s super sad because now everyone she ever loved is dead and Winterfell is burnt ashes.

She goes outside into the snow, and begins to build a snow castle that looks like Winterfell.  She spends hours perfecting it. She notices people watching her from the windows. Various nobles. Even lady Lysa.  And then…

Littlefinger: Oh, hai gurl.

Sansa: Littlefinger, you’re back!

Littlefinger: Oh, don’t call me that. Call me “daddy.”

Sansa: Uhhhh… how about “father,” instead?

Littlefinger: No. I’d really, really like it if you called me “Daddy.” Or even better, “Zaddy.”

Sansa: No. Will you help me build this snow castle? I don’t know how to do the windows. And my bridges keep collapsing.

Littlefinger: Sure. You see… with the windows, you gotta do a cross-stitch with the twigs. Like this. See? Now, there is no actual window inside, but the twigs make it look like the window frame.  And for the bridges… you need to support them like this… see?

Sansa: Oh wow! That’s really good! You’re good at this!

Littlefinger: Is this supposed to be Winterfell?

Sansa: Yeah.

Littlefinger: I always thought of Winterfell as a cold, dark place. That’s what I thought it was when your mother was taken away from me to go there. Why would you want to re-create it?

Sansa: Oh no. It was so warm and nice! It was built on a hot spring. It’s the best. I miss home so much. *giggle*

She then throws a snowball at him.

Littlefinger: Da fuq?

Sansa: That’s what you get for bringing me here… rather than to Winterfell. Also because I'm playful and young! And pretty much any human being is compelled to throw a snowball at other human beings after it snows.

Littlefinger: Oh, Sansa! I played you false, it’s true. Here, give your daddy a hug.

Sansa: Erm… sure.

She goes in for the hug.

Littlefinger: Oh yeah, and a kiss too.

Sansa: Say what now—

*SMOOCH*

Sansa: *spit*spit* EW! Is that how you think you’d kiss your daughter? With tongue?

Littlefinger: Well, you know… you COULD HAVE BEEN my daughter. But you’re not. You’re a hot, hot girl. Probably even more beautiful than your mother. Why I’d love to—

Just then, young Robert wanders into the courtyard with his doll. 

Robert Aryn: LOOK AT ME! I’M A GIANT! I’M A GIANT! I WILL DESTROY THIS CASTLE!

Robert goes up to the recreation of Winterfell that Sansa just spent HOURS making and starts kicking it all down and ruining it.

Sansa: STOP IT! STOP IT!

Robert: It’s not me doing it! It’s the giant! GIANT DESTROY! WHEEEE!!!

Sansa: YOU ASSHOLE!

Sansa grabs the doll from Robert and tears its head off.  She sticks the doll head on a pike in the center of the Winterfell ruins.

Robert: WHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY! WHAAAAAAA!!!! YOU KILLED HIM! I HATE YOU!

He falls down and begins having a seizure.

Ghost of High Heart: And thus the prophecy is fulfilled!

Sansa: What? Really? That was what your prophecy was about? The great prophecy “I dreamt of a maid at a feast with purple serpents in her hair, venom dripping from their fangs. And later I dreamt that maid again, slaying a savage giant in a castle built of snow?” That prophecy was about the Purple Wedding and then about me ripping off a doll’s head?

Ghost of High Heart: Aye.

Sansa: The doll’s head is a pretty lame thing to have a prophecy about.

Ghost of High Heart: Everyone’s a fucking critic. I don't see your lame ass giving chillingly accurate prophecies about the future, do I?

Later, Maester Colemon is giving Robert dreamwine, to calm him down. He then sends Robert to his chambers for another leeching.

Sansa: I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. Ugh. I’m probably going to have to go see Lysa now, huh?

Littlefinger: Yep.

Sansa: I hope she banishes me. Because I hate this place. And I don’t want to marry that little shitty boy.

Sure enough, later Lysa sends Marillion to summon her. Along the whole way, he tries to hit on her and molest her.  She doesn’t know much about him, but in her short time here she’s learned that every single person here other than Lysa and Robert hate him.

She reaches Lysa in the High Hall, who is alone on the dias.

Lysa: I saw what you did, you naughty girl!

Sansa: Yes, Lysa. I’m so sorry. But Robert… I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know he’d have a seizure. He ruined my castle! I spent hours working on it and…

Lysa: Robert? ROBERT?! What are you talking about? I don’t care about that! You know what you did… you WICKED, EVIL GIRL!

Sansa: Uhm… what?

Lysa: Still playing coy, huh? DECEIVER! I SAW YOU KISSING MY PETYR! You temptress! You harlot! You Jezebel! Seducing him with your feminine wiles!

Sansa: Uhh… that was GROSS. I wanted no part of that. He kissed me!

Lysa: LIAR! I saw everything! You’re trying to steal him away from me! Just like your filthy whore mother did! She led him on and cockteased him! But it was I who gave up my virginity to Petyr that night! I made sure I turned off all the lights and got him drunk! He kept calling me “Cat” as we had sex, but I knew he really meant to be calling my name. He got me pregnant that night but dad made me have an abortion and then marry Jon Arryn to prevent my dishonor from becoming public!

Sansa: I’m… I’m sorry! I didn’t!... It was Lord Baelish… he…

Lysa grabs her by the hair and pulls her over towards the Moon Door. Lysa orders Sansa to open it, and she reluctantly does.

Lysa: So you say you’re SORRY, huh? Only people who ADMIT TO THEIR GUILT say that they’re sorry! So you ADMIT to trying to steal my beloved Petyr!? HARLOT! WHORE!

Sansa: AGH!! AGH!! STOP!

Lysa gives Marillion a nod, and Marillion starts playing some music to help block out the screams. Lysa holds Sansa out of the Moon Door and makes her look down.

Lysa: SEE THAT?! SEE THAT?! I’m gonna throw your ass out and—

The door bursts open.

Littlefinger: Uhh… just what the hell is going on here?

Lysa: HER! SHE KISSED YOU! I SAW IT!

Littlefinger: And? She’s just a child.

Lysa: SHE MUST BE TAUGHT A LESSON!

Littlefinger: Well, you almost just threw her out of the Moon Door. So surely she has learned it?

Lysa: I… I…. I want her sent away! She can’t stay here!

Littlefinger: Oh… oh… of course, my love. I’ll send her away.

Lysa: You… you… you CAN’T WANT HER. YOU CAN’T! Is this because the baby? I’M SO SORRY, PETYR! I’m so sorry for our baby! I didn’t want to! Father made me.

Littlefinger: Hahaha, okaaaaaaaaay. Whatever girl. Blabbermouth. Shhhh! Better not dwell on the past though. Talking about the past too much is really a bad idea.

Lysa: No, no! It’s good to let it all out. Very therapeutic. Like… like… how you told me to put that Tears of Lys poison into my husband’s wine to murder him? And then have me write a letter to my sister accusing the Lannisters? It was so smart! You’re so smart, Petyr! I killed my husband just like you said… so that we could be together and have another beautiful baby together!

Littlefinger: Shhh! Shhh! Calm down, honey. Just… icks-nay on the urder-may.

Lysa: I mean really, if you think about it your plot set off this whole series. Because of that, King Robert went up to Winterfell. Jaime threw Bran out the window. Ned came down to Winterfell to replace my husband as the new hand and he got murdered. Rob Stark called himself king and rebelled. Etc. Etc. All of it, because of your awesome plan!

Littlefinger: Shhh! Shhhh! Crazy talk, Sansa. Don't listen to that. Crazy emotional woman talk.

Lysa: And I did it all to be with you! SO WHY WOULD YOU KISS HERRRRRRR?!

Littlefinger: Baby, baby! Calm yourself. You know I have only ever loved one woman. Well. Two women if you count when I was really, really into Britney Spears, circa Fall of 1999. I mean I was SUPER into her. The courts called it obsession and I got a restraining order. Yet I know it was love. But anyway… other than her… I’ve really only ever loved one woman!

Lysa: Oh Petyr! Truly?

Littlefinger: Yeah. Your sister.

Lysa: Wh-AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Littlefinger throws her out the Moon Door.

Littlefinger: Oh, and I guess her daughter a little bit too. 

Sansa: HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

Littlefinger: Yeah, I know, right?

Sansa: YOU JUST MURDERED HER!

Littlefinger: Yeah. Because she just tried to murder you. So really, I was just defending you from an insane person.

Sansa: Yes. Good point. But you also did it in front of a witness. Remember?

She points over at Marillion.

Littlefinger: Oh shit. I forgot about him. Because he wasn't even here in the TV show. 

Marillion: Uhmm…. errrr…. Hey guys.

Littlefinger: Oh yeah. A witness, Sansa. A witness that everyone in the Vale hates. A witness that tried to rape you, Sansa.  A witness that specifically playing music to drown out your screams so that your Aunt could murder you? A witness whose word would be one against two others, who tell a different story.

Sansa: Yes. Another good set of points. Hrm.

Littlefinger: *ahem* OH MY! GUARDS! GUARDS! SOMEONE HELP! THIS SINGER JUST KILLED MY WIFE!

Sansa: Hahaha, sweet. OH HEY! Does the last chapter of the book get to be mine for one? I get to be a book closer?! YESS!!!

Not quite.

Sansa: What do you mean “not quite?” This is the last chapter, right?

Yes. This is the last chapter. But there is an epilogue.

Sansa: WHAT?! There were never any epilogues before!

Well, now there is…

ASoS 79: Jon XII

Jon is in the courtyard, sparring with some dude named Emmett, who I assume was sent to the Wall after being a RB for the Cowboys.  He’s not really paying attention to the fight though. In his head, he’s still mulling over the offer that Stannis gave him – to become the new Lord of Winterfell.

In his absent-mindedness, Jon begins beating Emmett to a pulp in the fight. Others run in and pull him off.

Emmett: DUDE. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!

Jon: Oh. Sorry. Sorry! So sorry! It was an accident. You know I’m just so good and talented that I can whoop your ass when I’m not even paying attention to the fight. I’m so amazing and skilled a warrior I actually have to concentrate hard in order to go easy on people.

Emmett: Dude, you’re such a humble-bragger. I hate you.

Jon then embarrassingly retreats back to the armory, and thinks about how his wicked Stepmother Catelyn hated him so much.

While he’s there, Jon overhears Bowen Marsh and Alliser Thorne campaigning for Slynt.

Alliser: MAKE CASTLE BLACK GREAT AGAIN! Besides, we don’t have to listen to that Stannis loser. He’s just going to get crushed by Tywin Lannister anyway.

Bowen Marsh: Indeed. The very much alive Tywin Lannister. Who is, as I just said, alive and well.

They then see Jon standing there and stop.

Jon: Oh, no. Don’t stop your malevolent plotting on account of me. I’ll just go on my way.

He then leaves and wanders through the passage to the Other side of the Wall. He imagines what life will be like for him if Slynt is elected. Probably really, really short. He then thinks about what could have been with him and Ygritte. Maybe they could have had a son other. He dreams of being a father with heirs, just as he dreamed of ruling Winterfell as a child. But he always knew it was a foolish dream. He could have it though. He could be Lord of Winterfell and marry that hot blonde wildling girl, Val. He could… hey… wait a minute…

Ghost: *woof* [Translation: I’M BACK!]

Jon: GHOST?! HOLY SHIT! GHOOOOOOOSSSSST!!!!

That’s right! Ghost is back! Looks like he’s still alive after all! All Jon had to do was wander around, aimlessly thinking on the other side of the Wall and Ghost would come to him.

Jon: I missed you boy! Who’s a good dog? Who’s a good dog?

He rubs his belly. I mean a wolf may be a wolf, but it still loves belly rubs.

The return of Ghost tells Jon that there has been a message from the Old Gods… and there can be only one way to answer Stannis’s offer.

Jon: But I’m not going to say what way that is. I’ll just go back to the Dining Hall to check in on the election debate.

He crosses the passage with Ghost and goes back to the Castle Black dining hall. There, he steps into the middle of a furious debate.

Thorne: OH LOOK! The turncloak returns. And it looks like he found his wolf-o!

Slynt: Ugh. Get that beast out of here! You’re a filthy warg! That beast killed the Halfhand.

Jon: Shut up before I have it kill you as well. Just what’s going on here and why are you assholes even more angry with me than usual?

Aemon: Jon Snow, your name has been put forward as Lord Commander.

Jon: Say whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat now? You must be joking.

Dolorous Edd stands up.

Dolorous Edd: Nah. I put your name forward. Sorry bro. But better you than me.

Slynt: Why would anyone vote for this traitor? We should be hanging him!

Everyone starts standing up and shouting.

Thorne: SHH! SHH! EVERYONE BE QUIET! It’s… I think… Othell Yarwyck’s turn to speak, isn’t it? Yes. I’m pretty sure it is. Maybe everyone should be quiet and listen to what we told… uhh… I mean… to what Othell has to say.

The room begins to quiet.

Othell Yarwyck: Hrm. You know what? Not long ago, this punk ass Thorne over here and his stooges made a pretty convincing argument for why I should step down as a candidate and endorse Slynt.  But you know what? Now that I hear Jon Snow has been nominated… he sounds like a better choice.

Thorne: WHAT?!

Slynt: WHAT?!

Pyke: YEAH! YEAH! GREAT IDEA! You know what?! Let’s vote! People who voted me before should maybe consider Jon.

Mallister: YEAH! Lets vote! Not for me though! For Jon Snow!

Everyone: VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE!

Sam: Okay, well then. We all use this gigantic kettle to drop our votes into. How about I, as Maester Aemon’s assistant, just open up this big kettle to pull the voting tokens out and…

He opens the kettle and a giant, black raven leaps out, croaking.

Raven: *squawk* SNOW! SNOW! SNOW! *squawk*

The Raven lands on Jon’s shoulders. Everyone gasps in amazement.

Thorne: Dude, what the fuck? Are you all going to really believe that was some magical sign from the heavens that we should vote for Jon Snow? First of all… those ravens are Sam’s pets that he trains how to talk. And Jon is Sam's best friend. Come on, people. You can’t see through this thinly veiled magic trick?

Everyone: VOTE! VOTE! VOTE! VOTE!

They vote. Jon Snow wins by a landslide.

Jon is in shock.

Jon: What the FUCK just happened? First you wanna kill me. Then you wanna kiss me. Blow.

Cotter Pyke walks up to him and slaps him on the back.

Pyke: Don’t fuck this up, kid. If you do, I’ll rip out your liver and eat it.

Jon: Wow. Graphic.

Pyke: And don't steal any more damn lines from Army of Darkness. 

Mallister comes up too.

Mallister: Well, you’re a young man and it’s unlikely I’ll live long enough to be around for another vote. Well, maybe. We're about to go into an epic and deadly war. And I just think I heard some people talking about putting together a plot to stab you.  But you'll PROBABLY live a long time. Maybe. Or not. If so, that means I gave up my last chance at ever being Lord Commander to support you. Don’t make me regret that decision. 

Pyp: Hahaha, man. If I were you, Jon, I’d start drinking heavily. Congrats, new Lord Commander!!!

Jon: Oh yeah. I need to start drinking alright. But not too much tonight. I still need to go to Stannis and tell him what just happened. *sigh*

ASoS 78: Samwell V

King Stannis has summoned a number of members of the Night’s Watch to a meeting.

Sam: Why the hell was I invited? I’m just Maester Aemon’s assistant. Why would a king and his red witch lady want me to be here? 

Stannis: What the hell is wrong with you Night’s Watch people? Why haven’t you picked a new Lord Commander yet?

Bowen Marsh: Nobody has reached the required 2/3 of the vote rule.

Stannis: Ugh. I don’t have time for all of these delays.

Janos Slynt: Well, your sire, I’m sure your glorious, intelligent, amazing, beautiful opinions and recommendations on this matter will help to resolve the situation. How about you use your vast, enormous intelligence to recommend a pick to us? 

Stannis: Ugh. Jesus Christ. What a fucking ass kisser. No way am I falling for that and naming your awful ass, Slynt. I know who you are. You're Mr. “I sell promotions for bribes.” Please. If I was king back in the day rather than Robert, I’d have had your ass executed.

Aemon: The Night’s Watch has chosen their own since the beginning of history! We shall not let a king choose for us. And as for Janos’s conduct before he was here… when you join the Watch, all past transgressions are wiped clean.

Denys Mallister: Indeed. And just as the king must remain neutral in how the Night’s Watch operates, the Night’s Watch too must remain neutral in this war of kings.

Stannis: Oh please. Like I’d call on your pathetic, poorly equipped, poorly trained, poorly skilled losers to help me out for anything other than being a human shield on the battlefield. No, it’s not your assistance I require… it’s your unused castles and land.

Bowen: WHAT WHAT WHAT?!  Those castles are ours! And the land of the Gift… well… that was a Gift! And thus also ours.

Stannis: Right, those are all gifts that YOU DON’T USE.  There are well over a dozen castles on the wall that sit there empty and abandoned while you only man three of them. And while the Gift was once used by the Watch… it has fallen in to ill repair. Give them to me and I will make better use of them. I will restore the castles and the ruins.

Cotter Pyke: Why? What will you use them for?

But instead of Stannis answering, Mel jumps in.

Mel: They will be used for the great war! The war for life itself! The War for the Dawn!

Aemon: Yes, we have seen the dead rise and we know what you speak of. Well, I haven’t seen it. I’m blind. But you know what I mean. But if this is truly the War for the Dawn, then according to the prophesies… the Prince that was Promised has returned! Tell me woman, where is he?

Mel: He stands before you right now. For behold, Stannis is Azor Ahai reborn, the warrior of fire. The prophesies are fulfilled. The red comet blazed across the sky and heralded his coming. And see that he has upon him Lightbringer, the red sword of heroes.

Slynt: What? You think that comet was dedicated towards you? You know, in King's Landing the people called it "Joffrey's comet," in celebration of the new king.

Pyke: The people from the Iron Isles thought it was a message from the Drowned God.

Mallister: One person said it signified Ned Stark's death. Or maybe was a representation of the vuctories of the Northmen and house Tully against Lannistee forces.  But, I suppose it could have just been a herald warning of the forthcoming War of the Five Kings.

Sam: You know, when we were campaigning north of the Wall, we used to say that it was Mormont's star, a message lighting the way through the Haunted Woods as we explored the north.

Septon Cellador: You know, there is so much sin in this world. *hiccup* I think it was an omen in from the Seven Gods, saying that the Seven Kingdoms had become full of corruption and that soon would be purified.

Bowen: You know, I heard these CRAZY stories from the far east that it represented the birth of dragons, and that a young Targaryen girl was being led to Qarth.

Aemon: What? My relative? No way! We Maesters of the Citadel have a theory. A strange and hard to believe one, I know. But some of us think that a comet might simply be an icy, small body rotating around our sun due to gravitational force. And when passing close to the sun, it warms and begins to release gases in a process called "outgassing." This produces a visible atmosphere or "coma," and ofttimes also a tail. These phenomena are due to the effects of solar radiation and the solar wind acting upon the nucleus of the comet.

Stannis: Oh shit, are we still doing the fucking comet jokes? I thought we were done with those a while ago.

 Mel: All other stories are lies. They talk about Stannis. Who is, as I noted, a god standing before you.

Stannis shifts nervously and looks embarrassed by Mel’s continued declarations that he is a god.

Stannis: Okay, you asshats get out of here and MAKE A DAMN DECISION ON YOUR LORD COMMANDER. All of you except for Aemon and that boy who used the Dragonglass dagger to kill the Other. The child of Tarly.

Sam: M-me?! W-why?!

The other people leave.

Stannis: Tell me more of how you killed the Other, Tarly.

Sam: Well, it was mostly sort of an accident. I kinda just—

Mel: --For this was no accident! It was ordained! Dragonglass is frozen fire and it slew the cold children!

Stannis: Indeed. They also call dragonglass “obsidian,” and it is abundant in the caves under Dragonstone. I have ordered it be mined.

Sam: Oh cool. So you’re ordering that in the books rather than Jon and Dany like in the show, huh?

Stannis: Huh?

Sam: Nevermind.  Oh, and the dragonglass doesn’t kill Wights though. Just the Others.

Mel: Indeed. For the Wights are just dead flesh. The Others… they are… SOMETHING MORE!

Sam: Cryptic much?

Stannis: I have also heard this story about how you were able to cross the Wall at the Nightfort with that Wildling girl. I must know more about how you did that. For I intend to make the Nightfort my new seat of power.

Sam: Ah, well… I don’t know if it will work for you. It’s a magical wooden door that only opens up for a Member of the Night’s Watch.

Stannis: Ah. Well you said “wooden”, so I assume I can just cut it down with an axe or burn it or something.

Sam: I guess.

Stannis: Also, the Wildling girl wasn't a member of the Night's Watch, correct?

Sam: Yeah. Well. Obviously. She's a girl and a Wildling.

Stannis: And yet she got through,because she was with you? So, it's really not all that hard to go through the "magic door" then, is it? I'd just have to have someone from the Night's Watch go with me. Or, as noted, fucking cut it down because it's wood.

Sam: Okay, okay. Stop pestering me about this! I guess a wooden door isn't that insurmountable!

Aemon: Ser! Ser! Your grace! I would like to see Lightbringer.

Stannis pulls it out and begins to hand it over, but then gives Aemon an inquisitive look.

Stannis: Are you fuckin' with me, Targaryen? Because, you know, you’re blind.

Aemon: I can see with my fingers! And also Sam can look at it for me. Let me feel it.

Stannis hands the sword over and Aemon feels it up.

Sam: It’s glowing like sunshine on water.

Stannis: Okay, weirdos. That’s enough. You bitches better pick a Lord Commander by nightfall, or I might just follow Slynt’s advice and pick one for you.

Stannis dismisses them, and they head back to Aemon’s chambers.

Aemon: I felt to heat on the sword.

Sam: Yeah, and the scabbard it rested in wasn’t all burned up or anything. You think it’s legit?

Aemon: *shrug*

Sam: We need to do something about this election though. I think some big dickweed like Janos is about to be chosen. Can you do anything about it? Can you help to influence the people?

Aemon: No, a Maester must stay out of such affairs.

Sam: Oh, could I do something then?

Aemon: I don’t know, Sam. COULD YOU?

Sam: *sigh* Damn it. I hate having to do things myself.

Later that night… he goes to visit Cotter Pyke.

Sam: Hey, what’s up? We haven't had much time to talk before, have we? You're from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, right?

Cotter: Yes, I am.

Sam: But you've been to Castle Black before, huh?

Cotter: Well yes, of course. Obviously I've been here before.

Sam: Ah. Cool. I just wanted to say, welcome back... Cotter. 

Cotter: I FUCKING HATE YOU. Just get on with whatever you wanted to say to me, Sam. 

Sam: Well, You know you and Mallister are messing each other’s votes, right? One of you should drop out.

Cotter: Dude, I don’t even really WANT this job. But Mallister is the WORST. I’d rather stay in it just to make sure that he doesn’t win.

Sam: What we really need is someone younger. Someone who is a fighter! You know. Like someone who just led a bunch of fights. Here at the Wall. Hint. Hint.

Cotter: Huh? Someone like who?

Sam: Oh, I dunno. Maybe think about that for a while.

Sam then goes to visit Denys Mallister.

Sam: Hey, what’s up? You know you and Pyke are messing each other’s votes, right? One of you should drop out.

Denys: Dude, I don’t even really WANT this job. But Pyke is the WORST. I’d rather stay in it just to make sure that he doesn’t win.

Sam: What we really need is someone younger. Someone who is a fighter! You know. Like someone who just led a bunch of fights. Here at the Wall. Hint. Hint.

Denys: Huh? What? You mean like that Jon Snow asshat?  Well, he would be better than freaking Slynt or freaking Pyke. 

Sam: Hey man… you said Jon Snow, not me. Don't put those words in my mouth. But now that you mention his name… Mormont trusted him. Halfhand trusted him. Donal Noye trusted him. He was the son of the Lord of Winterfell and the brother to the King in the North.

Denys: Hrm. An interesting idea. I’ll think on this. Now get the hell out of here.

Sam then goes back to Cotter Pyke.

Cotter: Ugh. You again? What?

Sam: Hey, I went asking around folks about how the election was going to go. I was talking to Mallister and he said that there was no way he’d drop out and let a filthy bastard like a Pyke win because bastards are the worst. I also heard Stannis tell Aemon earlier tonight that if we didn’t pick someone ourselves tonight… that he’d just appoint Mallister!

Cotter: WHAT?! That SUCKS!

Sam: Yeah, it’s rough. No way you can win. So I guess the only thing you can do now is surrender and tell everyone to vote for someone else. But if you don’t want people to vote for either Mallister or Slynt… then you have to name some third, different candidate to throw your votes behind. 

Cotter: Hrm, and I was thinking about what you were telling me earlier… about a young warrior. That reminds me of Jon Snow.

Sam: OH REALLY?! DOES IT? DOES IT REMIND YOU OF JON SNOW? CRAZY, HUH? Man… and Jon Snow is a bastard too! Why… I bet Jon Snow is popular enough so that people would actually vote for him and he’d get elected. And then a bastard would win! You know, like how you’re a bastard too. A win for the bastards, huh?

Cotter: Hahahaha, oh man. Boy, that would really stick it in Mallister’s stupid face then, huh? That’s sweet. 

ASoS 77: Tyrion XI

Tyrion is waiting in the black cells beneath the Red Keep. He knows he’s going to be executed, but he doesn’t know when. Or how.

Tyrion: Hrm. I wonder if it will be a public execution. So everyone can see and point and laugh and throw rotten vegetables at me. Or maybe they’ll make it private. Maybe they’ll just kill me down here and nobody will ever see or hear from me again.

Door: *knock*knock*

Tyrion: Oh shit! I guess the time has come. Nobody has seen or some for me in days. I guess this will be my executioner.

Jaime: No, it’s me.

Tyrion: Well, it’s pitch black in here, so I can’t tell who you are.

Jaime: Wait. Here. Let me turn on the flashlight on my iPhone.

Tyrion: OH SHIT! JAIME?! When did you get back to King’s Landing?!

Jaime: A while ago.

Tyrion: Dude, you missed A LOT when you were gone.

Jaime: Yeah, and you missed A LOT when I was gone too. Like this, for instance.

Jaime holds up his stump arm.

Tyrion: Dude? They cut your masturbating arm off?! That’s totally not cool.

Jaime: Well, technically I called it my “swordfighting arm,” but yeah. I guess it’s the same one.

Tyrion: So have you learned to adjust and use your left one yet?

Jaime: Yeah, I’ve been training out in the courtyard and… uhh… wait… you’re talking about masturbating again rather than swordfighting, huh?

Tyrion: Yes. Anyway. You see my face?

Jaime: Yes. You lost a nose.

Tyrion: You lost a hand. I lost a nose. Us Lannister boys just can’t hold onto our body parts, huh? So are YOU my executioner?

Jaime: What, for killing my dipshit son Joffrey? Haha, I hate that kid. Short answer – no. I’m not your executioner. Your executioner is supposed to take you out on the tourney grounds tomorrow morning. That will never happen though. I’m here to rescue you!

Tyrion: What what WHAAAAT?! Oh, thank god. I was really worried that I’d be executed and these books would become a lot less interesting. I mean, I thought main POV characters like me were too important to die. I though that Ned thing was just a fluke. Like, “Okay, well, they just made him seem like he’d be a main character but he was destined to die in the first book all along.”  But then after Cat died too? Oh shit man, they built her complex stories up for THREE BOOKS and still killed her off. Once she was gone, I figured…

Jaime: --Shut up, Tyrion. Let me help you out of these chains.

Tyrion: So I can…what? Just walk past the guards?

Jaime: The guards are asleep. Varys dosed their drinks with some roofies.

Tyrion: VARYS?! That traitorous asshole is why I’m in here! He totally lied about me in court!  Oh… and also… are you worried about the guards?

Jaime: It’s just roofies. They’ll wake up.

Tyrion: Yeah, well… they’ll wake up and I’ll be missing. Then they’ll be blamed for it and will probably be executed.

Jaime: What? Nooooo! Everyone will know their drinks were dosed. That seems like an overreaction to the situation. They’d be faultless.

Tyrion: Un hunnnnnnnn.

Jaime: Don’t worry about that now, bro. You have a boat to catch. You’re going to catch a ship to the Free Cities. You’ll get out of here where they can never get you.

Tyrion: Oh please. I’m a blonde dwarf. I can’t hide anywhere. I’ll stick out like a sorer thumb, wherever I go.

Jaime: Well, I can’t really do shit about that. Be safe brother.

Jaime kisses him on the cheeks.

Tyrion: Dude, you can seriously get in trouble for helping me. Why risk yourself like this?

Jaime: Because you’re my brother, man. Oh, and also… I owed you a debt.

Tyrion: A debt for what?

Jaime: You know. That whole Tysha thing.

Tyrion: What Tysha thing?

Jaime: You know… your first wife? Remember how you thought you were in love with her and lived a happy number of weeks together until me and my dad revealed to you that she was actually a whore that we paid for? Then dad made you watch a gang of soldiers run a train on her.

Tyrion: Uhm… yes. I obviously remember that.

Jaime: Ah, well. That lie was a lie. She actually was a woman who fell in love with you. A crofter’s daughter you met by chance on the road, just like you thought. I had nothing to do with it. She wasn’t a whore and I didn’t hire her. But after dad found out… well… he thought he’d teach you a lesson and made up the whole story. He sort of forced her to go along with it or, you know, he’d have probably murdered her.

Tyrion: WHAT?!

Jaime: Yeah, sorry about that.

Tyrion: YOU SON OF A—

Jaime: Hey man, it’s not like it was my idea. It was all dad. I had to go along with it. I was… like… a kid too. How was I supposed to…

Tyrion: --DUDE, I FUCKING HATE YOU!

Tyrion slaps him.

Jaime: I mean… part of me says I deserve that, but the other part of me is like, “Dude I’m saving your life and that story is still really about what DAD did and it wans’t me. Although I do feel guilty about being forced to go along and not telling you the truth.”

Tyrion: I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN.

Jaime: Yeah. Totally. I know. I get it. Remember how we were sending you on a boat to the free cities? The whole “we’ll never see each other again” was sort of the whole point of the thing.

Tyrion: If we meet again… I’ll kill you.

Jaime: I know I lost my right hand and everything… but that seems pretty unlikely. So asshole, did you kill my stupid son or not? Cersei says you did.

Tyrion: Cersei is a stupid, fucking, lying whore. While you were away she was fucking Lancel, Osmund Kettleblack and probably Moonboy for all I know.

Jaime: Whaaaaaaa?

Tyrion is furious with Jaime. Jaime has lied to him for all these years. Tyrion knows he can’t hurt him with a sword… so he’ll hurt him with words. A lie for a lie!

Tyrion: Yes, I killed your stupid fucking son. He would have been a worse king than Aerys!

Jaime: Ah, well. I don’t care.

Tyrion: WHAT?! No! You’re supposed to be deeply hurt by my words. I’ve suffered for years with the memory of Tysha. You’ve scarred my psyche! You’ve ruined my life. I’m probably an angry, alcoholic shitface because of that torment you caused me. Now I’m taking my revenge by scarring your psyche! You’ll forever think I murdered your son. You’ll feel the deep pain of that every day. You’ll know I got my sweet revenge on you.

Jaime: No. Not really. I fucking hated that kid. Really, if anything I should give you a firm handshake and a thanks. But. You know. Missing hand and everything.

Tyrion: BE SAD! BE ANGRY, DAMNIT!

Jaime: Meh. Bye, Tyrion. Varys is waiting for you down that corridor.

Tyrion: GOD DAMNIT!

Tyrion leaves and goes down the corridor, passing the passed out guards.

Tyrion: VARYS! YOU SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!

He starts punching him. But, you know, at knee-level and stuff.

Varys: OW! OW! OW! Stop! Hey man! That trial thing wasn’t my fault! I had no choice. I was forced to speak against you!

Tyrion: Whatever.

Varys: Besides, if you kill me… you’ll never find your way out. Unless I explain to you all the directions.

Tyrion: Okay, explain to me all of the directions.

Varys does so.

Tyrion: Cool. Hey. This room looks familiar. REALLY familiar. I think I’ve been here before. This is part of the same tunnels and secret passages that lead to the Tower of the Hand, right?

Varys: Of course.

Tyrion: So tell me how to get to the Tower of the Hand.

Varys: Dude, you’ve got a boat to catch.

Tyrion: I SAID TELL ME!

For some reason Varys tells him.

Tyrion: Okay, bye.

Varys: Where the hell are you going?

Tyrion: I’ll be back, asshat. You gave me the directions, after all.

Varys: But…

Tyrion climbs up a ladder and a bunch of other tunnels to the Tower of the Hand. It’s a difficult climb and Tyrion is exhausted. But he makes it up, and emerges out of the Tower of the Hand.

He sees someone sleeping in the bed… the bed that used to be his, but how belongs to his asshole father.

Tyrion: Well, well, well father. I see that you’ve lost some weight, grown some boobs and now look like Sh….. SHAE?!

Shae: Uhhm…. Oh shit.

Shae is laying there in Lord Tywin’s bed, naked other than the chain of the Hand of the King that she is wearing.

Shae: Soooo… uh… baby, baby, baby. What had happened was—

Tyrion: Oh… you are in such deep shit.

Shae: SHE MADE ME! The queen! She learned about me and made me! I’m sorry sorry, I love you so much and I meant everything I ever said about loving y--*UGHHHHHHH*

But Tyrion has grabbed the chain around her neck and slowly strangles her with it.

Shae: …

Tyrion: Yep. This is how it’s going down, bitch. Sorry!

She dies. Because Tyrion slowly choked the life out of her. Yep.

Tyrion gets out of bed and looks around.

Tyrion: Oh hey look! A crossbow.

Tyrion then hears some whistling in the bathroom. He goes over.

Tyrion: Hey dad!

Tywin: AGH!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK?! Oh… OH SHIT! Son! I’m taking a dump here.

Tyrion: Well, I can see that, asshole.

Tywin: Put that crossbow down.

Tyrion: DUDE. YOU’RE EXECUTING ME!

Tywin: Whaaaaaaa? Me? Noooooo! That was never going to happen, man. You know I wasn’t actually going to go through with all that. Yeah. Uhm. Totally. I was going to free you, right before the execution. Yeah. *shifty eyes* I was going to let you take up the black and send you to the Wall. It was all the big plan!

Tyrion: TYSHA! What did you do with Tysha?

Tywin: Who the fuck is Tysha?

Tyrion: MY WIFE! Remember? The one I married? Then you made me watch her—

Tywin: Oh right, right. That whore.

Tyrion: SHE WASN’T A WHORE! DON’T CALL HER A WHORE!

Tywin: I mean, okay. Sure. Whatever you say, son.

Tyrion: I ASKED YOU, WHERE DID SHE GO?!

Tywin: I dunno. Probably Whore Island or something.

Tyrion shoots the crossbow.

Tywin: AGH!!!! YOU SHOT ME IN THE DICK!

Tyrion: So I did.

Tywin: ON THE TOILET!

Tyrion: Correct.

Tywin: And… and… I think I’m shitting myself as I die.

Tyrion: Yes, I can smell it.

Tywin: I’m a really feared and respected character. This is a super embarrassing way to go.

Tyrion: It is.

Tywin: *dies*

Tyrion: Hahaha… look at that! I murdered my dad! And everyone said he shits gold. But he doesn’t, does he? He shits shit! Hahahaha! OH MY GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE?! THIS BASICALLY LEAVES CERSEI IN CHARGE NOW. WHAT A HORRIBLE IDEA.

Tyrion drops the crossbow and runs back towards the secret passages.

ASoS 76: Jon XI

Jon is sparring with a recruit in the courtyard when Melisandre walks up.

Mel: Hey sexy. I hear you like redheads. So you wanna fuck my brains out or what?

Jon: Well, that was rather direct. I’ve never met you before. Generally when you meet someone new for the first time, you begin with a “hello.”

Mel: Oh, I’ve seen you before. In my dreams. Tell me… are you exhausted?

Jon: What? Exhausted? No. Why?

Mel: Because you’ve been RUNNING IN MY HEAD all night.

Jon: Oh. Yikes. That’s a bad pickup line.

Mel: I lost my number. Can I have yours?

Jon: No. That one is awful too.

Mel: If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.

Jon: Slightly better, but I’m not feeling it.

Mel: If I told you that you had a sexy body, would you hold it against me?

Jon: Ye-… I mean N-… damnit. That’s a trick question, isn’t it?

Mel: Seriously though. Stannis wants to see you.

Jon: What does he want?

Mel: Everything you have to give. Which is, coincidentally, also what I want from you. Now come with me.

Jon: Wait… C-O-M-E or C-U-M with you?

Mel: *sigh* The former.

Jon: You’re SURE that I’m going to Stannis and you’re not just going to take me to your kinky, goth girl sex dungeon, right?

Mel: Shut up. You’re going to see Stannis. Don’t give me ideas though if you’re not willing to go through with them.

Oh, Jon thinks Mel is hot. There is no doubt about that. But what does he know about this crazy witch woman? For all he knows she could be some sort of ugly, hundred-year-old witch that only looks cute because that magical talisman around her neck or some shit. Wouldn’t that be crazy? Also, there is something about keeping his vows that he thinks he needs to follow, especially because a bunch of people who are already accusing him of being a traitor.

Anyway, he follows her up the cage to the top of the Wall, where Stannis is waiting.

In the cage, he notices that she even smells like fire. And she’s barely wearing anything even though it’s freezing.

Jon: Girl, you smell like BBQ. And do you need a jacket?

Mel: The Lord’s fire lives within me. I am never cold.

Jon: Whatevs.

They reach the king himself. Well, one of them.

Stannis: Ah, Lord Snow I see. I have heard much about you.

Jon: Well, the whole “Lord Snow” thing is sort of a mocking insult. So, you know, I don’t really like to be addressed that way.  And don’t believe every story you heard about me. Especially if it comes from assholes like Slynt.

Stannis: Oh, I knew Slynt back in King’s Landing. So I know he’s an untrustworthy douche.  I also knew your father, and I knew he was an honorable and honest man.  They say it is you that found the dragonglass daggers that this Tarly fellow used to slay the Other. They say it is you that held the gate at Castle Black, defending it until my army arrived.

Jon: Yep. True and true. Well, Donal Noye had the gate, really. Until he died.

Stannis: Yes, Noye would have made a good Lord Commander. Too bad he’s dead and we’re left with the rest of these assholes.

Jon: Well, Cotter Pyke and Ser Mallister seem like good enough dudes. Mormont trusted them.

Stannis: Mormont trusted a lot of people he shouldn’t have trusted and it got him his ass dead, didn’t it?

Jon: Too soon.

Stannis: They say you also found that magical horn thing and captured Mance Rayder’s child.

Jon: Well, “captured” is a bit strong of a word. His wife was giving birth and she died. I didn’t do much else.  Hey… quick question… right before that happened I watched an eagle in the air suddenly burst into flames for no reason. Did Fire Woman over here have anything to do with that?

But before Stannis can answer himself…

Mel: The Lord of Light has fiery talons, Jon Snow!

Jon: You don’t need to use my full name every time you talk to me. It’s sort of creepy. So, are you trying to say you did it?

Mel: Yeppers.

Jon: Oh, and also your Grace, since you bring up that baby… Val asked if Mance could see his son before you… ya know… set him on fire and watched him burn alive.

Stannis: Why should I do this honor for some deserter of the Night’s Watch?

Jon: Well, the Free Folk have their own type of weird honor system. It’s not like Mance or Tormund or anyone like that are terrible guys. It’s more like they’re just… libertarians or something.

Stannis: And Rattleshirt?

Jon: Nah, fuck that guy. You can set him on fire if you want. My point is, those guys aren’t the real enemy. They just wanted to cross the Wall to escape the Others.

Stannis: Yes. I also used to think another war was the war I need to win. But my true fight is here. Against them.

Mel: The Others! They are led by the God of Night and Terror!

Stannis: Jon, you had a brother named Robb who defied me and claimed to be a king of his own. What he should have done is bent the knee and remained Lord of Winterfell. In order to keep the peace here, we need a Lord of Winterfell. One that is loyal to me.

Jon: Uhh… I’m not exactly sure what you’re getting at here. I mean, I can kind of guess… but… you know, it’s not like it matters. There is no Winterfell. Theon Greyjoy destroyed it. And my father has no more legitimate sons left. That was also Theon's doing. Well, and the Freys.

Stannis: Winterfell can be rebuilt and bastards can be made legitimate… by kings! You know, like me. Hint! Hint!

Jon: I… uhh… wow! I mean… I took a vow to the Night’s Watch. To hold no lands. To father no children.

Mel: You made vows to a fucking stupid tree. The gods of the North are no real gods. Only R’hllor, Lord of Light!

Jon: Way to win me over, lady. Make fun of my religion right to my face.

Jon feels guilty. He used to fantasize about becoming lord of Winterfell as a kid. Now could it be coming true?

Stannis: I have been talking to this Mance Rayder that you respect so much. I agree with his plans to let the Wildlings through. I wish for them to settle here in the North and ally with us against our common foe, the Others. Rayder himself must be executed though, for his treasons and for naming himself a king when only I am. The Wildling Princess though… she will live.

Jon: You mean Val? She's not exactly a princess. Unless having a nice ass makes you a princess. In which case, yeah.

Stannis: Yes. And she must marry you, the Lord of Winterfell, to ensure a Wildling-Stark alliance.

Jon: Hahaha, she’s kind of hot if blondes are your thing. But… you know… I doubt she’d agree to that. These Free Folk gals don’t roll that way.

Mel: Plus Jon probably likes redheads more anyway. *winks*

Jon: Errrrmm…

Stannis throws a hand on Jon’s shoulder.

Stannis: Say nothing of what we’ve discussed here today to anyone else. But when you return… all you have to do is say the words… pledge fealty to me and I will name you Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell!

ASoS 75: Samwell IV

Sam watches Jon give a half-smile at Gilly,as she’s nursing Mance Rayder’s newborn son. Why isn’t the child’s mother, Dalla, nursing her boy?

Val: BECAUSE SHE DIED IN CHILDBIRTH, JUST LIKE I SAID SHE WOULD!

Jon: *sigh* Okay, okay. You called it. Geez, I’m sorry.

Now get ready for a lot more flashback / in media res shit!

Sam and Gilly, who we last saw at the Nightfort, walked all the way to the Queensgate. There they had been jpined by Denys Mallister, Bowen Marsh, Giant, Dolorous Edd, Dywen, and maybe some other characters I’m forgetting.  They were all pretty surprised that his fat, incompetent ass was still alive.

They told Sam everything that had happened recently… you know… all this shit that we just skipped over between two chapters ago and now. Stannis’s battle against the Wildlings. Mance was taken captive and Stannis decided to set up shop in Castle Black, taking residence inside of one of the towers.

From there Sam went to Castle Black, and met up with Pyp, Grenn and the others. They told him all about Stannis’s flaming banner and the “Red Witch.”  Sam also learned about Jon. Even though Jon captured the Horn of Winter and Mance’s son, this new Janos Slynt asshole and Alliser Thorne has declared that he was still a traitor.

Sam: There. Am I all caught up yet?

Val: No. You missed the part about me telling you that the Red Witch wants to give Mance to the fire because he has “King’s Blood.”

Sam: Oh, right.

Jon: Well, I mean he is a Night’s Watch deserter. Which means he is supposed to be hanged by us anyway.

Sam: Right. Because people who break their vows deserve to be executed.

Jon: Yeah, ri---ohhhhh, I see what you did there, Sam. Good one. *sigh*

Sam can tell that Jon misses Ygritte.

Jon: And don’t be acting like you ain’t mackin’ yourself, Sam. I see you and Gilly.

Sam: I… umm… err…

Jon: You know you can’t keep her, right? She’s not a pet. And girls aren’t allowed here.

Sam: Well, uhh… maybe I can claim that the baby is mine. And send her and the kid off to Horn Hill for my mom to raise. My dad might even respect me a little if he think I got laid.

Jon: Hrm. Maybe. Maybe.

Val: Hey, not to interrupit this stirring conversation, but while we’re on the topic of babies… can I at least show Mance his son before he’s executed?

Jon: I dunno. Apparently Stannis wants to see me. I guess I can ask. But no promises. He probably wants me executed or something.

Sam: No way, Jon! Only Thorne and his stupid cronies believe that you’re a turncloak. Everyone else knows you’re the true hero that helped to save and defend the Wall. Stannis will listen to you.

Jon: Thorne is of noble birth. And I’m just some warg that dreams of jumping into my wolf’s body. Not that I do that anymore. I haven’t seen Ghost in so long. *sigh* He’s probably gone forever.  All I dream of now is the crypts below Winterfell.

Speaking of the crypts below Winterfell… that’s where Bran was hiding when Winterfell burned. Sam desperately wanted to tell Jon all about Bran still being alive. But he can’t. He swore an oath to that Coldhands guy that he would never tell. And so he must keep that oath.

Jon: Anyway… it doesn’t matter what Stannis believes in the end. The Night’s Watch is independent of the wars of the Seven Kingdoms. The new Lord Commander will decide my fate. And that new Lord Commander will likely be Slynt.

Sam: No way! People hate him.

Jon: Yeah… well… he’s still going to win it.

And with that, they part ways. Jon goes to train new recruits while he awaits whatever is supposed to happen to him next. A meeting with Stannis? An execution? Whatever.

Sam goes off to the maester’s keep to help with the wounded, and then goes to the rookery to feed the ravens.

Raven: *squawk* We’re useful plot devices *squawk*

Sam: Hrm. Yes. You ravens are useful plot devices, aren’t you? I’ll have to remember that in the very near future.

As he’s doing his duties, Sam thinks that either Denys Mallister or Cotter Pyke will win the election as the next Lord Commander. But then he remembers that both have been LOSING votes in the last several rounds of voting, while Slynt has been gaining. But none of them have enough votes to win.

At dinner that night…

Pyp: Haha, of COURSE there is going to be a dinner scene with Sam!

Grenn: Yeah, because he’s fat!

Sam: Shut up, you two.

Sam looks across the dining hall and sees that Slynt has been given a better and more central seat at the big-wig dining table than either Mallister or Pyke.

Pyp: Hey, look over there. Thorne is talking to Othell Yarwyck. I bet he’s trying to buy some more votes for Slynt.

Bowen Marsh then stands up.

Marsh: I withdraw my name from the candidacy for Lord Commander, and recommend that everybody that was voting for me instead vote for Janos Slynt!

Sam: Ugh. That’s the worst.

And so a new ballot is taken. Sam and Clydas help Master Aemon count the votes.

Aemon: Okay… okay… so in first place we have… MALLISTER!

Slynt: DAMNIT!

But as Aemon reads the vote tallies, it’s clear that Mallister doesn’t have enough points to secure a majority. And Slynt has still been gaining votes. That means another round of voting will be required the next day.

Sam: Mallsiter and Pyke have nearly two thirds of the votes between them. If one or the other were to drop out and endorse the other… then that person would win and Slynt would lose. But if they BOTH stay in… their votes will continue to erode away and Slynt will wind up taking this whole thing. Someone needs to convince one of them to drop out!

Pyp: Someone, huh?

Sam: Yeah!

Pyp: Well it’s your idea, asshole. Good luck.

Sam: No! Wait… I don’t mean me! I mean… uhh… SHIT!!!

ASoS 74: Arya XIII

The Hound and Arya are traveling the countyside and stuff.

Hound: Hey look, an inn! I want to go inside. Inns have alcohol, and I like that.

Arya: Are you sure that’s a good idea? You're already super drunk from that booze that you got earlier. Plus in this book series, bad things usually happen in inns. Like confrontations between warring factions and stuff.

Hound: No. It's not a good idea. But I’m a giant dude and skilled fighter. So, you know… what’s the worst that can happen?

They go inside and Arya immediately recognized the Tickler and Polliver. They are with some crappy squire.

Arya: HOLY SHIT! TWO PEOPLE ON MY KILL LIST!

Squire: HEY LOOK! That dude has a burnt face! Is that Joffrey’s pet Hound? You know… The Mountain’s brother? The coward who ran away from Kings Landing?

All the locals in the bar recognize that some shit is about to start. They quietly pick up their things and leave.

Polliver: Holy crap, it IS the Hound!

Hound: Yeah. So? Hey, aren’t you those assholes that hang out with my asshole brother?

Polliver: Indeed. But he’s gone off to Kings Landing now. Hey – speaking of King’s Landing… did you hear that Joffrey is dead?

Hound: Meh. Who cares?

Arya: WHAT?! But I WANTED TO KILL HIM!

Arya thinks she should be happier that he is dead. She KNOWS she should be happier. But she really, really, really hoped to do it herself. All slow and painful. Some real torture. The kind of sick shit that the Tickler would be really in to.

Polliver: Yeah, it was the Imp and his whore wife, that Stark girl, who did it.

Arya: Huh? His wife? Are they talking about Sansha? Marrying Tyrion?! That doesn’t make any sense at all. She only likes pretty things.

Polliver: Yeah. The Stark girl fled though. So now she’s missing. But Tyrion is in jail and is sentenced to death.

Hound: Hahaha, that’s pretty hilarious. Sansa shit on the Imp’s head and then left. Sweet. Of course they’ll probably catch her. That girl is dumb as a brick.

Arya: It’s true.

Polliver: Yeah, they’ll find her just like they found her sister.

Arya: Say what now?!

Polliver: You know, that dumb “Arya” girl. She’s been found and is heading off to marry Roose Bolton’s bastard child.

The Hound turns and looks at Arya. Then he starts laughing uncontrollably.

Arya: I am so confused.

Tickler: So Hound… are you planning on going to your brother?

Hound: Bugger that! And bugger you two.

Suddenly, a table is thrown over. Polliver and Tickler attack. The squire attempts to join in the battle too, but…

Arya: *THWACK*

Arya slams a wine goblet right in the squire’s face.

Squire: UNGH!!! YOU BNOKE MY NODE!

The Hound counter-attacks the two, but isn’t doing that well. After all, he is totally shitfaced drunk.  The two swing their weapons at the Hound, and one of the slices cuts deep.

Hound: AGHH!

Arya: Oh no! He’s about to lose! Quick… I must… uhh…

She grabs the dagger that she was given before, and throws it at the Tickler. But it only grazes him.

Tickler: OW! You bitch! Why I oughtta…

Arya: You what? Punk! Just watch me---UNGH!

Suddenly, Arya is grabbed from behind by the squire.

Squire: Hey look! I got her! I got her! Aren’t I talented and skilled?

Arya: Not really.

Arya looks down as the boy holds her and notices that he has a dagger in his belt. She easily twists her arms out of his grasp and grabs the blade. She stabs him.

Squire: AGGHH!!! I’m… I’m… stabbed!...

Ayra: Quite observant. That’s not the first time I did that to an annoying boy. Or the second. Or the third. I’m pretty much a tween serial killer.

He falls to the floor, bleeding.

Polliver and the Tickler get The Hound in a corner.

Polliver: Yield!

Hound: Uhh… no.

He takes a swing with his sword and cuts Polliver’s head half-way off.

Polliver: *says nothing because his head is swinging off of his neck*

Tickler: Oh SNAP!

The Ticker begins to back away slowly.

Right into Arya.

*STAB*

Ticker: AGHH!!!! What the?

Arya: Hey, you probably don’t remember me, but I was in that village… remember? Back when you took everyone one at a time and tortured and murdered them? You were trying to get info from innocent village people about Beric. Yet nobody knew anything. You killed them all anyway. What was it said? Oh right… Is there gold hidden in the village? *STAB* Silver, gems? *STAB*STAB* Is there food? *STAB* Where is Lord Beric? *STAB* Which of you village folk helped him? *STAB*STAB*STAB* Where did he go? *STAB* How many men did he have with him? *STAB* How many knights? *STAB*STAB*STAB*STAB*STAB*STAB* How many bowmen? *STAB* How many were horsed? *STAB* How are they armed? *STAB* How many wounded? *STAB*STAB*STAB*STAB*STAB*STAB*STAB*STAB*

The Hound comes up to Arya and pulls her off as she keeps stabbing.

Hound: Okay, okay. That’s enough. I SAID THAT’S ENOUGH. He looks like a sack of cherry jello mixed with bones now. That was some sick, sick shit you just did. He looks like those autopsy photos of the dead hookers that Jack the Ripper eviscerated.

Arya: Thanks!

Hound: I didn’t necessarily mean it as a complement.

Arya: Well, our work here is done!

Squire: No! No it’s not! I’m still here! And I’m bleeding! HELP! Please! I’m so sorry!

Hound: Ugh. Look at that. You went and stabbed that boy in the gut. Now he’s going to die slowly.

Arya: No he’s not. Because I remember one additional thing about Polliver!

Hound: What’s that?

Arya goes over to the near-decapitated Polliver and brings her hand down to his belt, where he has a second sword sheath. She pulls the sword out.

It’s NEEDLE!!!!!!!

Arya: I missed you so much, my old friend!

She walks over to the boy.

Squire: Hey! I’m innocent! I’m just a squire! I was just travelling with those guys! I didn’t—

*STAB*

Arya then licks the boy’s blood off the sword and it makes her shiver some sort of weird, erotic shiver of pleasure.

Hound: You are all sorts of sick in the head, girl.  Anyway, we can’t stay here now. Not with this bloodbath.  We need to head to the Saltpans and take a ship to the Vale. There I can sell you to your Aunt or whatever.

And so they mount their horses and leave. But the Hound is clearly struggling up on his horse.

Arya: Hey, that wound you got back there in the battle… it looks pretty bad. You sure we don’t need to stop and treat that or something?

Hound: Shut up. I’ll be fine.

He almost falls of his horse several more times before they reach the Trident River that night.

Arya: Geez. How many more times am I going to meet up with this river?

They make camp for the night, and the Hound has Arya pour some boiling hot wine over his wounds.

Arya: You know, cauterizing it with FIRE would be a lot easier.

Hound: You shut your mouth with that “fire” bullshit.

*SSSSSSSTTTT*

Hound: AGHH!!!!!!

The Hound passes out. Arya tries to fix him up. But then again, she’s a little girl and all she knows is how to kill people. Not how to make them better.

As the Hound sleeps, Arya goes over her list again.

Arya: Let’s see, let’s see. Oh goodie! I get to cross off more people! *ahem* Joffrey Baratheon, Chiswyck, Gregor Clegane, Dunsen, Queen Cersei, Amory Lorch, Ilyn Payne, Polliver, Raff the Sweetling, The Tickler, Meryn Trant, and Weese. Hrm.


Arya then remembers something.

Arya: Wait a second. I didn’t include The Hound on my list this time. Was that some mistake? Why did I leave him off? Do I not want to kill him anymore? After all… I literally just helped to disinfect his wound and patch him up. But he killed Mycah. Why am I not just murdering him in his sleep? Hrm.

She goes on to think about more stuff. Like what her dad used to say.

Ned: The lone wolf dies while the pack survives. Or some bullshit like that. Maybe it was “Don’t turn your back on the wolfpac. You might wind up in a body bag.”

Arya: No, fictional fantasy vision of my dead dad. That’s not what you said. That’s what the nWo: Wolfpac song said.  Also, it’s dumb because “pac” and “bag” don’t rhyme, and yet it was being used in a song as if it rhymed.

The next morning, the Hound wakes and they get to traveling again. But they barely go half a day before, exhausted, the Hound stops and falls off of his horse. He’s sweating profusely and grabbing at his painful wounds.

Arya: Oh bish, you gonna die.

Hound: Shut up and get me some water.

Arya: Okay.

Arya goes off and gets him some water.  She comes back with the water, but also with Needle drawn.

Hound: Ah, I see how it is.

Arya looks down. She didn’t even realize she pulled it out.

Hound: Well, get on with it then. DO IT ALREADY!

Arya: I… uhm…

Hound: GO ON! You remember what I did to that butcher’s boy! You’ve reminded me about it like 46 times on our trip! I KILLED HIM! Now do it!

Arya: …

Hound: And your sister… I never told you… but that night in the castle… I planned to fuck her bloody.

Arya: Hahaha, she would have deserved it. I hate her. But also... gross.

Hound: Wow, not the answer I was expected. I’m not sure why. Anyway… do me like you did that squire boy! A real wolf should finish off a wounded dog!

Arya sheaths Needle.

Arya: Nah. You don’t deserve the gift of mercy. You should have helped me save my mother. Die slow.

She gets up on her horse and rides away.

The Hound: Well fuck. I guess I’ll just die then. Or maybe come back as some sort of Gravedigger. I guess we’ll see!

Six days later, Arya comes to a small town.

Arya: Is this the Saltpans? I don’t even know. There is a port here though.

She realizes she’ll have to sell her horse and everything in order to pay for passage on a ship out of here. She makes a deal with some woman who totally cheats her. Arya knows she’s being cheated… but what the hell can she do about it?

She walks up with the few coins she has to a ship Captain. But she doesn’t want to go to the frickin’ Vale to see her stupid aunt like Clegane wanted. Oh no… she has another idea…

Arya: Hey there, can you take me to Eastwatch? I want to go to see my brother, Jon.

The Captain: Uhm. We’re not going near Eastwatch. The North has nothing but ice and wars and pirates.

Arya: Well, those two things sound really cool. Anyway, I have money! See?

She shows her what she got for the horse – a few copper coins, some pocket lint, and a Bazooka Joe wrapper. 

Arya: Haha, Joe asked Mort what was wrong, and Mort said that he had a dream about eating a marshmallow. But when he woke up, his pillow was gone! Classic Bazooka Joe!


Captain: That’s not near enough money, dumb girl. And even if it were… we’re going to Braavos.

Arya: Wait… what? Did you say “Braavos?”

Captain: Yes. It’s where we’re from.

Arya: Wait a sec… wait… I… uhm… where is that?!…

She digs through her pockets and finds her other coin. The one Jaqen H’ghar gave her.

She pulls it out and puts it in the palm of the Captain.

Arya: Valar morghulis.

Captain: OH SHIT! Why didn’t you just say so in the first place? I… uhh… I mean, “Valar dohaeris.”  Now com, gurl. We’ll have a cabin for you.

Arya: With cable TV?

Captain: Fuck you, now you’re asking for a bit too much. Get your squirrely lil’ ass on board. We’re goin’ to Braavos. 

ASoS 73: Jon X

Jon is in the cage/elevator thing, going down the Wall. He thinks about the dreams he had when he was a kid about being the Lord of Winterfell one day. They were foolish dreams, since he knows he was always a bastard. And pretty much all the rest of his family would have to die in order for him to inherit anything. Although… hey… that’s pretty close to being actually true, huh?

Jon: Oh well. I guess I’m going to die soon anyway. I’ll only be remembered as an oathbreaker and a murderer. Which is a shame because it’s not true. Well. I mean. I did break by oath by sleeping with Ygritte. But, you know, that’s sort of just a little oath that nobody cares about anyway. *sigh* I should have just stayed in that cave with Ygritte like she said. Neither of us would be dead then. Or maybe we would both be dead of starvation or something. Who knows?

Jon then flashes back to earlier that day, because IN FUCKING MEDIA RES, MAN. 

Earlier, Janos Slynt was trying to decide what to do with Jon when Aemon came in, pleading Jon’s case and saying he was a stand-up bro. Even though Aemon can’t really tell when Jon is standing up or not. Because he’s blind.

Jon: Yeah, narrator. We got it.

Anyway, Aemon’s words didn’t move Janos Slynt because Slynt is an absolute douchebag. He’s pretty much the human equivalent of a trash can next to a college boy’s computer – e.g. he’s a mix of empty Ramen noodle and Hot Pocket containers, mixed amongst a huge pile of wadded up cum tissues.

Jon: Okay, gross. Please move on.

And although Aemon’s words didn’t move Slynt, a messenger also came into the room.

Messenger: Hey, Mance Rayder wants us to send out some sort of envoy to meet with him and parley with him.

Slynt: Haha, yeah! Let’s send out Jon!

Thorne: Hehe. YES.

Jon: WHAT?! That dude will kill me! I pretended to join the Wildlings and betrayed them. If you send me, I’ll die.

Slynt: Yeah, that’s sort of the point. Besides, I don’t intend for you to actually parlay with him.

Jon: No?

Throne: Yeah. We’re sending you out to meet with Mance Rayder. But your orders are not to agree to any terms with him. Your orders are to kill him.

Jon: WHAT!? But he’ll be surrounded by his THOUSANDS of camp followers in his army. Chances are I’ll never make it to him, because I’ll be killed first. If somehow I survive and actually meet with him, then I’ll likely be killed before I can kill him. And if I somehow do overcome ALL OF THAT and kill him anyway… ten once I do so, I will CERTAINLY be killed.

Slynt: Correct.

Thorne: So it’s pretty much a win-win for me. Bye, Jon.

Okay, John is done flashing back to earlier now.

Jon: *sigh* Oh well, I guess in the end my honor doesn’t matter. Only the kingdom matters. I will be killed no matter what the result of my assassination mission is. Fucking Slynt and Thorne!

He exits the wall on the North side and is met by a single rider from the Wildling camp.

Tormund: OH SHIT… it’s YOU?! Ah-HAHAHAHA!

Jon: Oh, hey there, bear fucker.

Tormund: Oh my gawd, this is going to be so classic. You will be so dead.

Jon: Yep.

Tormund: I kinda knew it. Hey, what ever happened to all those people that were sent out on that party with you? You know… the Magnar of Thenn… Jarl… all those assholes?

Jon: They’re all dead.

Tormund: That cute redhead girl?

Jon: Ygritte.

Tormund: Yeah, her.

Jon: Dead.

Tormund: Aw, bro. That sucks. She was H-A-W-T. Did you at least get some of that ginger patch before she died?

Jon: You bet your ass I did.

They high five.

Tormund: Okay, well. Time to take you to your death now.

They go to Mance Rayder’s tent. Outside…

Mance: Well, well, well. Look who showed up to my tent wearing a FUCKING BLACK COAT.

Jon: Yeah… about that…

All of Mance’s companions and friends urge Mance to kill Jon. But these are shit characters like Harma Dogshead and Varamyr Sixskins. So you don’t need to worry much about them.

Varamyr: I really don’t like this narrator.

Jon: Tell me about it.

Mance: Okay shithead. Why are you here?

Jon: Uh…  to parlay with you. Definitely not to kill you. *shifty eyes*

Mance: Really? And what terms do you have?

Jon: Well, you know… you should probably surrender soon and stuff. The Wall is, like, super awesome and full of amazing troops. Tons of them. And all really well trained. Better you just turn around and go home, cancelling this war and everything.

Mance: Nope. Not true. I know it’s not. Why? Because Varamyr here took over Orell’s eagle after you killed Orell.

Varamyr: Once a beast’s been joined to a man, any skinchanger can slip inside and ride him!

Jon: …

Mance: …

Tormund: …

Harma: …

Varamyr: What? What?

Jon: …

Mance: …

Tormund: …BA-HAHAHAHA! Sorry. I can’t take it anymore.

Everyone else starts giggling too.

Varamyr: WHAT?!

Tormund: It sounds like you fuck animals, dude.

Jon: It really does.

Mance: Yes, this is true.

Jon: Yes, it’s sounds like what you were saying was that Orell fucked this eagle. And the eagle didn’t like it at first. Or at the very least was excessively confused. But then after a while, the eagle got used to it. Perhaps the eagle even liked it. Then, with the eagle all buttered up by Orell, now it’s used to people fucking it. So then you just came up and fucked it too. 

Varamyr: NO! NO! What I was saying didn’t sound anything like that! Gross!

Tormund: Are you sure? Because that’s what it sounded like.

Mance: *AHEM*... ANYWAY, moving back to what I was saying… the eagle flew around and looked at all of your forces on the other side of the wall. And it was pathetic. You’re poorly staffed and depleted of reserves. Another few days of fighting and you’ll be totally defeated.

Jon: Ah. So you know all that then, huh?

Mance: Yep.

Jon: Damn. Well. Uhh…

Mance: Well, let’s go into my tent and talk a little more.

Varamyr: Wait. Why are you bringing him into the tent like some sort of special guest? We should be killing him now!

Tormund: Shut up, eagle fucker.

Varamyr: DUDE! Who are you to give me shit? It's literally your thing that you had sex with a bear! 

Mance and Jon go into the tent, where they are now alone.

Jon: Ah! The perfect circumstance to kill Mance now!

Until Jon realizes that they aren’t alone at all. Mance’s two women are also in there… his wife, the heavily pregnant Dalla, and her sister, Val.

Jon: Oh, I guess I can’t murder him in front of his heavily pregnant wife. That would just be messed up and not cool.

Val: What are you saying?

Jon: Uhhh…. Nothing. Hey! Val! Weren’t you married to Jarl or something like that?

Val: Well, Free Folk don’t really have a concept of marriage, but yeah… I “stole” him, which is sort of what you meant. By the way, why are you referring to my relationship with him in the past tense? Where is he? Didn’t he go with you on some mission to cross the Wall?

Jon: Ah. Well, he fell off the Wall and died. He hit a bunch of trees and shit on the way down. His body got MESSED UP. It was rough. It was battered and broken and torn apart. It’s one of the most fucked up things I’ve seen in my life. And I’ve seen a lot. I’ve seen people I used to know rise from the dead and I set them on fire.

Val: Oh. Wow. Uh. So I guess I’m single then.

Dalla: *SCREAMS IN PAIN*

Jon: Da fuq?

Mance: Oh, she’s going into labor.

Jon: What? Like… RIGHT NOW?

Mance: Yep.

Jon: In this tent? That you just invited me into? Why would you invite me into this tent if your wife is about to give birth in here?

Mance: Meh, whatever. I need to tell you about shit, man. Like the Horn of Winter.

Jon: The Horn of Jaromír Jágr?

Mance: Joramund. But whatever you want to call it, man.

Jon: Ygritte told me that you never found it.

Mance: Well, I lied. I did.

Jon: SAY WHAT?

Mance: Yeah, I could use it’s magical powers to bring down the Wall. All I have to do is blow this horn and the Wall crashes down.

Jon: Bullshit. Do you know how hard it is to randomly find an old horn? Pretty impossible. I mean. Not 100% impossible, since I found an OLD, CRACKED, OBSIDIAN HORN THAT I GAVE TO SAM AND FOR SOME REASON I SELDOM THINK ABOUT NOW WHENEVER PEOPLE TALK TO ME ABOUT THE HORN OF WINTER.

Mance: Okay.

Jon: But if you really hved it… why wouldn’t you have used it by now?

Mance: Dumbass. Do you know what happens if the Wall comes tumbling down?

Jon: You get to go through. You know, like you want to.

Mance: Yes. But WHY do we want to go through?

Jon: Uhh… I dunno. Just to make life fucking miserable for everyone who lives down there.

Mance: No, dickwad. Why does everyone misunderstand us? We want to cross to the other side of the Wall in order TO LIVE. That’s why we were all gathering up as an army and coming South. To SURVIVE. To escape the Others.

Jon: Ah, right. That too.

Mance: And if the Wall comes tumbling down and we pass through… do you know who else can pass through?

Jon: Oh… oh… THE OTHERS. Right. I get it now.

Mance: So I’m not saying we WON’T use the horn. I don’t want to. My hope is that you either let us through… or that we defeat you in battle and force our way through. But if I have to… if you make us… then I’ll use it to help us escape and live a little longer. But it don’t be a LOT longer. Because, as noted, the Others will come through after.  The Wall is magic that keeps them on that side. With the Wall down, everyone is fucked.

Jon: Hrm. Interesting. So the Night’s Watch pretty much HAS to let you through in order to save your lives… or else you’ll use the Horn to bring down the Wall, which will allow the Others to kill EVERYONE in the Seven Kingdoms eventually.

Mance: Yes.

Jon: Well, this is quite the pickle of a situation because I’m not even supposed to be parlaying with you and… even if I go back to the Wall to give Slynt this news… he’ll not believe you, say no, and execute me for not killing you.

Mance: Yep.

Jon: So tell me... are you a true king?

Mance: I don’t even know what you mean by that.

Jon: I mean… if you pass through the Wall… will you be able to lead your people? Make them obey the laws of the land? Not go around murdering innocent people? All that shit?

Mance: Our people are not kneelers… either to Winterfell or to Kings Landing. We will not obey the laws of your kings. But… yes… we will make order. We will create our own laws.

Jon: I believe you, dude. I really do. And you seem like a cool guy. But Slynt is never going to go for this shit.

Mance: Well, you have three days to make him. Because in three days, I will sound the horn. 

Jon sees a horn in the room.

Jon: Oh shit! Is that it right there?

Mance: Yes.

Jon: Well, if I just smash it right now, then—

Suddenly a horn sounds.

Jon: AGH!!!! HORN! OH NO! THAT WAS A DISTRACTION HORN! THE REAL HORN MUST BE SOMEWHERE ELSE AND YOUR MEN JUST SOUNDED IT! THE WALL IS ABOUT TO FALL! THE WALL IS ABOUT TO FALL AGHHHH!!!!

Jon runs around in circles. Mance just looks at him like he’s a dumbass.

Mance: Uh, no. This is the Horn of Winter here. I don’t know what that other horn was. I need to go investigate.

They go outside of the tent.

Varamyr: MANCE! Something is coming! From the East! An army!

Jon: Oh no! Is it the Others?

Mance: Well, it’s daytime. The Others never come at day.  If only we had someone who could go inside of an eagle and check that out.

Varamyr: HEY! You’re talking about me! I can go inside of eagles!

Tormund: *snicker*

Varamyr: Oh, fuck you, Tormund. Immature asshole.

Varamyr wargs into his eagle and goes to investigate. He then wargs out.

Varamyr: It’s an army of riders in black. Hundreds and hundreds of them! I dunno, maybe thousands. Eagles aren't good at math.

Mance: WHAT THE HELL, JON? Was you meeting with me some distraction for a sneak attack?

Jon: WHAT?! NO! Or… you know… if it was, I didn’t know about it. Slynt and Thorne are kind of giant fucks like that. Slynt is sort of like a college kid’s trash can, because he—

Mance: --Yeah, yeah. I get it. Cum tissues. This doesn’t make any sense. Your forces on the Wall were totally depleted. And they’re coming from the East.

Jon: Hrm. Eastwatch, maybe? No… Eastwatch is in even worse shape than Castle Black.

As the mystery forces approach, Mance’s army falls into disarray. Some start attacking and get killed.

Soldier: Iron men! Iron men surrounding the camp!

Jon: What. You mean, like, from the Iron Isles?

Soldier: No. Just men wearing iron.

Jon: Oh. 

Mance: Ugh. Damnit. What the hell is going on? I need to investigate and lead these men. Varamyr!!! Watch Jon!

Varamyr: Ugh. Really? I have the power to go inside of an eagle and you want me to just watch this traitor dude?

Tormund: *giggles* Eagle fucker!

Varamyr: *sigh* I think I’ll just go into the Eagle anyw---AGHHH!!!!

Jon watches as the eagle suddenly and mysteriously BURSTS INTO FUCKING FLAMES!

Varamyr: IT BURNS! IT BURNS! AGH!

Jon: Holy shit, that is crazy. Did anyone else see that? That eagle just spontaneously combusted. I'm not crazy, am I? Like... I didn't see a flaming arrow or anything shot at it. It just--

Val then runs out of the tent.

Val: MANCE! MANCE! MANCE! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?

Jon: Uhh… Mance left. A war has sort of just started.

Val: Well… his wife is crowning. RIGHT NOW.

Jon: Oh SNAP. I guess you have to deliver the baby.

Val: WHAT?! By myself?!

Jon: Yeah. Sure.

Val: I have no idea how to do that!

Jon: Oh, come on. It will be easy. What’s the worst that could happen?

Val: Dalla could die in child birth. 

Jon: True. But other than that, what's the worst--

Val: --Well, aren’t you just worthless.

Jon: Worthless? No. I’ll… uhm… stand outside of the tent here. And stand guard. You know. To protect you and stuff.

And so Jon watches and protects the tent as Val is delivering Dalla’s baby. He watches as the free folk are running and screaming. They’re retreating back into the woods.

Jon: Man, whoever this force is that is attacking is REALLY GOOD. What a competent and able military force. I wonder who its leader is.

The soldiers begin to come close enough so that Jon can hear their chants and see their banners. Banners with, like, little flaming horses on them and stuff.

Soldiers: FOR STANNIS! FOR STANNIS! FOR STANNIS!

Jon: --Wait… what? REALLY?! STANNIS?!