AFfC 13: The Soiled Knight (Arys Oakheart)

Arys Oakheat of the Kingsguard rides through sunspear, somewhat embarrassed of the fact that he is wearing a Dornish outfit rather than his proud, Kingguard cloaks of white.  However, he knows if he wears the white of the Kingsguard that he’ll be attacked and killed by all the people of Dorne. What with Dorne being somewhat angry at the King and the Lannisters for, you know, having the awesome Red Viper killed.

The people of Dorne want revenge! They want an uprising! But with the Sand Snakes imprisoned by order of Prince Doran Martell, now they won’t get that either.
 
Arys: These silly Dorne people. I can’t trust any of them. Well, I can’t trust any of them… except for HER!

Oooh! A mysterious her! Has Arys become smitten a lady down here? And, if so, with who?

Princess Arianne Martell, Daughter to Doran: Hey, it’s me!

Oh, well that wasn’t that hard to figure out.

Arys: Oh, Arianne! I’m glad you can meet me here. But we must meet each other in disguise, so nobody can see us together. You are a Princess of Dorne, and I am a Knight of the Kingsguard, sworn to chastity. No one must know of our secret love!

Arianne: Love? What are you talking abo-uuhhh, oh yeah. Right. Love. I’m totally in love with you. Madly! *bats eyes*

Arys: I’m somewhat worried about leaving Princess Myrcella alone. I am supposed to be guarding her!

Arianne: Oh come on, she’ll be safe. She has a tons of Dornish guards around her, and she’s bestest friends with her betrothed, my little brother Prince Trystane.  It was an arranged marriage deal… but for once the two generally seem to like each other and are inseperable. Always playing games and stuff.

Arys: At any rate, she’ll be safe enough soon! Your father plans for us all to head back to the Water Gardens soon. Myrcella will be much safer here than around these crazy Dornish zealots who want blood.  Although it somewhat worries me that your father had asked that we not inform Kings Landing of the change of Myrcella’s location.  I am supposed to be loyal to Kings Landing, not to Prince Doran.  But then again, the fewer people that know where the Princess is… the safer she will be! So I guess it makes sense.

Arianne: Oh. You’re still narrating to yourself about Myrcella? Have you not noticed yet that I’m standing here completely naked for you?

Arys: Oh. Yeah. Right!

They have hot, hot sex.

Afterwards, Arys is ashamed. He loves Arianne, but he is full of guilt for breaking his oath of chastity, which is a really strange rule for the Kingsguard to have since every single Member of the Kingsguard seems to constantly break that oath.
 
Arys: My dear… I… I… love you. But this has to be our last time together! Ever!

Arianne: You’ve said that before. And yet you always come crawling back.

Arys: This time I mean it!

Arianne: Do you?

Arys: Yes!

They then have sex again.

Arys: DAMNIT! Okay, that time was ABSOLUTELY the last. I have to leave you now, but only because I truly love you.

Arianne: If you truly love me, then you will never leave me!

Arys: All other Kingsguard who broke their oath have been punished!

Arianne: All the ones that have been caught, you mean.

Arys: They’re all caught in the end.

Arianne: Are they now? Are they? Have you heard of my great uncle, Prince Lewyn?

Arys: Of course I have! He was a great knight of the Kingsguard, who fought heroically and was killed at the Battle of the Trident! One of the best!

Arianne: He totally had a mistress.

Arys: What? Really?

Arianne: They all do, Arys. Don’t act like you’re the first.

Arys: It brings be dishonor!

Arianne: Look, my point is the sword in your hand is the one that proves if you’re a true knight, not the one between your legs. If you’re a good person, then you’re a good knight, regardless of whether you get a little coochie now and then.  The only thing dishonorable is serving wicked rulers and doing wicked things.

Arys: I… I have done that too. Joffrey! I served him and I obeyed him when he told me to hit that Sansa girl.

Arianne: Well, Joffrey is dead and buried now. It’s time to think of how to you can serve a new ruler.

Arys: Yes, King Tommen!

Arianne: Well… I was… thinking of someone else.

Arys: *GASP*… Are you speaking of treason?! No, my lady! No! I love you, but…

Arianne: --No, lemme stop you right there, sugar plumb. I’m not talking about treason. I’m talking about making sure that the right and legitimate heir sits on the throne.  And have no doubt, that person is indeed the heir to the House Baratheon. But it is not Tommen. It is Myrcella.

Arys: Huh? I’m… confused.

Arianne: Who is older? Tommen or Myrcella?

Arys: Myrcella. But… but… she’s a girl.

Arianne: Wow, smooth talker – aren’t you? You really now how to make the ladies swoon on your modern, progressive politics. Listen honey bunny, here in Dorne women have always been in the line of succession, regardless of if there is a male born.  If the oldest child is a daughter… then the heir is the daughter!

Arys: Well, okay. Point taken my love. But Kings Landing is not Dorne.

Arianne: You know Myrcella, right? You have spent time with her.

Arys: Of course! She is a strong and brave young girl!

Arianne: Right. And Tommen is a little 8 year old who still pees himself. You really think he’s a better ruler than Myrcella?

Arys: No… but… in time, perhaps… when Tommen comes of age…

Arianne: --Do you remember the story of the first King Viserys? He wanted his daughter to succeed him, but it was the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard, Ser Criston Cole, who essentially led a coup that made Aegon the heir instead. He pitted Drgaon against Dragon.

Arys: Indeed. The Targaryen civil war, known as the Dance of the Dragons.

Arianne: And so the rule of only males being heirs to the Iron Throne was not set in place by some natural order of things. The rule was created by a member of the Kingsguard. A devious plotter, not worthy of his white cloaks. Not a noble and honest and true and handsome and sexy true knight like you. You should set right was the Kingsguard set wrong so long ago. Help me! Help me make Myrcella the Queen!

Arys: My love! For you are proposing something that your father already fears. He has heard these rumors about crowning Myrcella. And although I told you that she is being moved to the Water Gardens for her safety… that is only half true. Your father also wants to prevent her from being crowned.

Arianne: Why? Why deprive her of her birthright! She will rule much better than Tommen. And think about it. You have been her protector this entire time here. She truly trusts and likes you.  As a reward for your loyalty and protection, it is very likely that Queen Myrcella will make an exception to the rules of the Kingsguard and allow you to marry me!

Arys: *GASP* Marry you?! I… I… YES! YES! I love you so much! I never even thought it possible we could marry. Oh, do you think Myrcella would truly allow it? Do you really wish to marry me?

Arianne: Of course I doo, pookie! You know I love you more than anything in the world! Why else would I risk so much to be with you like this? What other motive could I have?!

Arys: To manipulate me into doing your bidding and supporting your plots? No! NO! That’s silly! The only thing that makes sense is that YOU LOVE ME AND WE SHALL BE MARRIED! YES! I MUST DO IT!

Arianne: Of course, we’d have to take action right now! You know how my father is! I’m so scared! His guards have been so mean to me, and I’m pretty sure he plans to lock me up, just like he locked up the Sand Snakes. Then I’ll never get to see you again! *sobs*

Arianne: No! It is! It is true! I found a letter about my brother, Prince Quentyn! In the letter, my father said that he wanted to make it so that  Quentyn becomes his heir to Sunspear, not me. My father hates me and wants to put me in jail for the rest of my life.

Arys: There, there, my love. That can’t possibly be true! And hey… where is this Quentyn guy anyway?

Arianne: Oh, across the sea in Essos on some SECRET MISSION. I’m not sure what. Something to do with the Golden Company breaking its contract with Myr, I think.

Arys gets down on one knee before Princess Arianna.

Arys: My lady, I love you so. I will do anything for you to protect you and make you happy! Just let me know. Tell me whatever you want from me, and it is yours!

Arianne: Oh, truly Arys? Truly?

Arys: Yes, my love!

Arianne: Well all I could ever want from you is your love! That’s all!

Arys: You have it!

Arianne: Also, you could bring me Myrcella? That, ahhhhh… that would be nice too.

AFfC 12: Cersei III

Remember all that advice that Cersei was given about needing to put together a rush wedding between Tommen and Margaery? Well, much to Cersei’s resistance… that is happening. Right now.

Cersei: Ugh. I can’t believe this. Why did my father want this stupid alliance with the Tyrells?

Logic and Common Sense:  Because it actually saved your life. Lord Tywin returned to save Kings Landing with the Tyrell army in tow.

Cersei: SHUT UP LOGIC AND COMMON SENSE! I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU!  And all this talk from the Tyrells that Tommen and Margaery should share a bed tonight? The boy is eight!

Jaime shows up.

Jaime: Yo. Look Cersei, everything is going to be fine. I am the Commander of the Kingsguard and I will not let anything bad happen to Tommen.

Cersei: NO! Tyrion is hiding somewhere in the castle surely! He’ll pop out and kill Tommen! I know it.

Jaime: So paranoid, dear sister. I’m sure Tyrion is long gone, sent on a secret boat to Essos with Varys.

Cersei: And how would you know that?

Jaime: I… um… am just guessing.

Cersei: That’s why I’m going to gather up all that wildfire that the pyromancers made for the Battle of the Blackwater and use it to BURN DOWN THE TOWER OF THE HAND!  Yes, and we’ll move the entire court to Casterly Rock!

Jaime: Hrm. Okay. That sounds a bit crazy.

Later in the day, the ceremony happens. It’s super small and fast compared to Joffrey’s big event.  She’s also angry that the Queen of Thorns made Tommen cloak Margaery in Baratheon colors instead of Lannister colors.

Logic and Common Sense: You know, even though making sure everyone THINKS Tommen is Robert Baratheon’s son is the whole key to the whole “legitimacy of Tommen” thing.

Cersei: I SAID SHUT UP, LOGIC AND COMMON SENSE! GET OUTTA HERE!

After the ceremony, it’s the dinner/feast time. This is also super small.  Kevan comes up.
 
Kevan: Well, that was fun. I guess I’ll be leaving now.

Cersei: SAY WHAT?

Kevan: I’m going to Darry to wed Lancel to his new bride.  And I’ve heard rumors that The Hound has gone and joined Beric Dondarrion’s outlaw brotherhood.  I guess I should go out there and hunt him down and kill him and stuff.

Cersei: Yes, I guess you should. If you bring Tommen the Hound’s head, he will be ever so grateful.

Kevan: Well, you know, when a dog goes bad the fault lies with its master.

Cersei: …

Kevan: And by that, I mean Joffrey was an twisted, disgusting, maniacal, incest-born monster.

Cersei: Oh, oh I got it. I was just silent because I can’t believe you said that in front of me.

Kevan: Peace, bitch.

He flips her the finger, takes a drag off of a menthol Newport cigarette, and rolls out.

Cersei: GGRRRR!!!!!

Jaime: Now, now, Cersei. I know you’re angry… so do  you want to hear some good news? The Queen of Thorns and most of the rest of the Tyrells are rolling out tomorrow. Mace Tyrell is going off to Stom’s End.

Cersei: Well Margaery will still be here. As will her stupid brother, Loras.

Speaking of the Tyrells, they walk up and Cersei has to tone down her complaining. Slightly.

Margaery: Oh, what a wonderful ceremony that was! So beautiful! And this reception is great too! I’m so happy to be married to Tommen. You have such a beautiful son, dear Cersei! You and I will be best friends from now on. It’s like now you’re MY MOTHER TOO!

Cersei: Must. Not. Kill. Must. Not. Kill.

Queen of Thorns: Beautiful Reception? WTF you talking about, Granddaughter? This is some crap. If only it could have been like the last reception where they incessantly played The Reigns of Castamere 70 thousand goddamn times. *pulls down shades*

Cersei: Oh, haha Queen of Sarcasm. Ha ha.

Yet the appearance of Margaery can’t help but give Cersei flashbacks. Flashbacks, yeah! Young Cersei: Oh hey, let’s go see this evil sorceress witch lady.

Young Other Kids: Okay.

Maggy the Frog: Hi there kids! Shouldn’t you have some parental guidance.

Young Cersei: SHUT UP, WITCH! I want you to give me a prophecy! I want you to tell me whether I’ll be queen one day.

Maggy the Frog: You really have to ask in the form of a question. That’s how this works.

Young Cersei: Will I be Queen one day?

Maggy the Frog: Hrmmm… let’s see… *shakes Magic 8 ball* …Oh yeah, Queen you will be. Until comes another. Younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear!

Young Cersei: OH SHIT.

 Back in the present day.

Cersei: Man, whatever. Forget that prophecy nonsense. Probably just a bunch of lies. Is this Margaery supposed to be more beautiful than me? I mean I’m Lena Hedley for God’s sake. No way is that Margaery girl cuter than me. It’s like in that “Snow White and the Huntsman” movie when the Queen was worried that a more beautiful woman was supposed to come along and replace her.  The Queen was played by Charlize Theron and the supposedly more beautiful woman was Kristen Stewart. HAHAHAHAHAHA. Really? REALLY? Trust me, Charlize Theron. You didn’t have ANYTHING to worry about there. Sounds like the Magic Mirror was broken there. That Magic Mirror had the same accuracy as a Sarah Huckabee Sanders press conference.

Cersei looks over and sees Tommen drink a glass of wine. Afterwards, he gives a slight cough.

Cersei: NOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

She jumps up from her seat and pushes the wine glass out of Tommen’s hand. She then starts doing the Heimlich maneuver on him.

Tommen: AGH!! *cough* STOP! MOM! *COUGH* STOP!

Jaime: Cersei, calm down! He just coughed a little bit on wine. It went down the wrong way.

Cersei: No… but… I… I… I… AGHH!!!!!!!!!

She runs out of the room, pulling her hair and hiding the fact that she’s crying.

Nobody dares follow her. Well, except for Lady Taena Merryweather.

Taena of Myr: Oh, hey there Queen.

Cersei: You again? Wow, aren’t you bold?

Taena: I see that some dust must have gotten in your eye. Here, have this.

She hands her a handkerchief.

Cersei: Yes. Dust. Of course.

Taena: If you want something else that might bring a tear to your eye, how about the fact that your maid Senelle has been acting as a spy for Margaery Tyrell?

Cersei: Hrm. Why would you tell me this? Don’t the Merryweathers serve the Tyrells?

Taena: My loyalty is to my husband and my son. Not to Highgarden.

Cersei: Hrm. Yes. Your sexy dark skinned self was the one who testified at Tyrion’s trial too. I really like you. If your story can be proven as true, you will be rewarded greatly.

Taena: Serving you, my Queen, is reward enough.

Logic and Common Sense:  OH COME ON, CERSEI! SHE’S OBVIOUSLY FLATTERING YOUR SENSITIVE LITTLE EGO!

Cersei: SHHHHH!!!!!

Cersei returns to the reception for Tommen and pretends like nothing ever happen and that she didn’t just make a HUGE scene. Jaime quietly comes up again.

Jaime: See? Tommen is safe.

Cersei: No one who wears the crown is EVER safe.

Jaime: Uh, okay. So it looks like the dancing has started. Wanna dance, dear sister?

Cersei: No, get lost. How do you expect a man with one hand to lead?

Later in the night, others also ask to dance with Cersei out of politeness. She refuses them too. What does she do instead? Drink. More and more. Lots of drinking. However, someone does catch her eye – Aurane Waters, the bastard son of the House Velaryon of Driftmark.

Cersei: This seems like a good narrative place to insert factoids about how the House Velaryon came over with the Targaryens and is the only Valyrian family beyond the Targaryens to survive the Doom of Old Valayria. Aurane closely resembles the Targaryens and also has the distinctive white hair, purple eyes, etc. The Velaryons sometimes intermarried into the Targaryens after Aegon’s conquest.  Why am I providing all this exposition? Is it to simply note how attracted I am to Aurane because I think he resembles Rhaegar and I was brought up being attracted to Rhaegar and thought it would be him I would marry? That would be the simplest reason why I am mentioning him. But GRRM always plays the long game with these random, background characters. Is there some plan for him? Does me thinking, “Oh, he looks a LOT like a Targaryen” lead to some future plot importance of Aurane? Will he be some secret Targaryen or something? No narrative information has ever been provided about his parents. His mother is completely unknown and the name of his House Velaryon father has not even been provided. Is that important?

Jaime: Who are you talking to, Cersei?

Cersei: SHH Jaime! SHH! It’s an aside! I’m entitled to have asides!

Jaime: You sound drunk.

Cersei: Maybe I am! *hiccup* Now let’s light a candle to celebrate this new union between by son Tommen and this stupid whore Margaery!

Jaime: Light a candle? What do you mean by—

But by the time Jaime finishes talking, Cersei has wandered outside and nods at Pyromancer Hallyne. He hands Cersei a hilariously large red detonator box with a plunger on it. It says "ACME" on the side. He pushes the plunger down, and it connects with a string over to the Tower of the Hand.

It explodes in a giant ball of green flame. Cersei stares at the flames, refusing to look away.

Cersei: So pretty. So. So. Pretty.

Jaime: Cersei. Cersei. ...CERSEI? ...Hello? ...Cersei? Oh geez, looks like this is foreshadowing something much darker to come along.

AFfC 11: The Kraken’s Daughter (Asha)

Asha sails to her uncle Rodrick Harlaw’s castle, the Ten Towers.

Asha: Oh, here we are. At my uncle’s tower. He’s probably up  hiding in his Book Tower and reading books instead of being an awesome warrior like people in the Iron Isles are supposed to be.

Asha’s Yes Man: Yeah, probably.

Asha: I don’t see a lot of ships here. I though I sent out a message telling all the ships to come here and meet with me as I proclaimed myself as the new Queen of the Iron Isles.

Yes Man: Well, you did send out the message. Doesn’t look like too many people came though. I mean a few. Look, there is Lord Botley’s ship.

Asha: Ugh. Weirdo Tristifer Botley. Yikes, that is going to be an awkward meeting that reminds me of my youth.

Yes Man: And your mother is also at this castle.

Asha: Yep. Crying and grieving for all her dead sons and husband. Whatever. I guess now is not a good time to go and tell her that I just got news that Theon has probably been murdered too.

Yes Man: No, probably not.

Asha: Ugh. Whatever. Okay, well anyway… I have a bunch of prisoners and captives from my time in Westeros. I’ve got Lady Glover and her children as hostages. Better make sure they’re safe and don’t die. Dead prisoners aren’t very effective bargaining chips.

Yes Man: True, and I will obey you. Since I am your yes man.

And thus Asha then goes up to the Book Tower to meet her uncle. 

Asha: AH! There you are, you big fucking nerd. Reading books just as I expected.

Rodrick: Yep. Hi niece.

Asha: So my dad. Was he murdered?

Rodrick: Meh. Probably. Yo momma thinks so.

Asha: Surely the timing of the Crow’s Eye is suspicious. Euron has been gone forever. Then when he shows up my dad dies. Crazy, right?

Rodrick: Come on Asha, why are you bothering me? This is a really good book I’m in the middle of. What do you want?

Asha: I want to know why there aren’t a bunch of ships here to support me as the new ruler! Only about twenty ships showed up! I mean… where the hell are the people I thought would be here for me? Like Baelor Blacktyde! Surely Baelor would be here for me!

Rodrick: Oh yeah. Baelor went off to Old Wyk.

Asha: Old Wyk? Why the hell would he go to Old Wyk.

Rodrick: OH SNAP! You didn’t hear? Really? Your Uncle Aeron has called a Kingsmoot.

Asha: DA FUQ?!

Rodrick: Yeah, I thought you would have heard by now since it was mentioned almost an entire book ago now.

Asha: And Euron and Victarion are on board with this crazy Kingsmoot idea?

Rodrick: *shrug* I guess.

Asha: Hrm. I guess better a Kingsmoot between us than a war.

Rodrick: Well, actually… the two might be the same thing. I was just reading a book about the last Kingsmoot, which happened thousands of years ago. When one of the losers didn’t like the result… well… long story short, the isles were littered with dead bodies. Anyway, you shouldn’t go. The whole thing is a terrible idea.

Asha: I shouldn’t go? Well then how the hell am I going to wind up being the new ruler?

Rodrick: Look neice, I love you, but that’s a bad idea. Really, what you should so is just make some alliance with the Lannisters and help them win the Iron Throne. Then the Lannisters will probably grant us a bunch of new lands that we took away from the North as a reward for our loyalty.

Asha: Pffft. Look, I’m not saying it’s not a good idea… but it’s something I’ll think about doing AFTER I’m sitting on the Seastone Chair.

Rodrick: Hey now, niece. You get an “A” for ambition, but it’s just not going to happen. The world is a terrible, sexist place and they’re not going to choose a woman.

Asha: But I have the best claim!

Rodrick: And there is a pretty little Targaryen girl over in Essos that has the best claim to the Iron Throne here, but you don’t see her ass in Kings Landing, do you?  Life ain’t fair. So anyway… your mom is doing better. You should go and see her.

Asha: Maybe later. Does she know about Theon yet?

Rodrick: No. Are you 100% sure that he’s dead?

Asha: No. But Winterfell was just a pile of dead, mutilated bodies. Yep. A bunch of carrion. With birds flying around them. Black birds that could eat them.  If there was only some good, descriptive way to phrase that.

Pee-Wee Herman and crew stand just off-camera, but since Asha never says the words, they stay there. 

Asha: Anyway, there was no way to ID Theon. I mean DNA research hasn’t been invented yet.

Rodrick: Well, I implore you again not to go to Old Wyck. It is folly. Why don’t I just name you my heir to this castle? Shouldn’t that be good enough?

Asha: I am a Kraken of House Greyjoy! I will sit in the Seastone Chair!

Rodrick: Ugh. You know what you are? You’re just another crow, screaming for carrion! One might even call that dead bodies you speak of, “A Feast for Cr— ”

Asha: --No! STOP! NO! DON’T SAY IT! If you say the title of the book, then Pee-Wee Herman, Chairry, that stupid Pterodactyl thing and all those others will jump out and start screaming about the secret word or whatever. I do not have time for that. It LITERALLY JUST HAPPENED IN THE LAST CHAPTER! PLEASE, NOT TWO IN A ROW!

Asha leaves before that happens and goes to the courtyard and OF COURSE runs into Tristifer Botley because OF COURSE SHE DOES. The only reason this character was even mentioned earlier was as a Chekov’s Gun.

Asha: Ugh. Oh, hi Tris.

Tris: Oh! ASHA! *eyeballs are replaced by hearts*

Asha: Yikes. Well, I’ve seen you’ve grown up.

Tris: Yes, you have too… even more beautiful than before!

Asha: Uhh….

Tris: I’m so sorry about your father. Surely your uncle killed him!

Asha: Yeah, probably.

Tris: Also I’m sorry about how it must have hurt.

Asha: Huh? Hurt? What must have hurt?

Tris: When you fell from heaven!

Asha: Oh gawd, I just thew up in my mouth a little.

Tris: And uncle Euron has also been bribing other people to be on his side. He’s given away half of my lands to other Lords as bribes.

Asha: Well, when I am given the Seastone Chair, I will ensure that your lands are rightfully restored. You’ll be there to support me at the Kingsmoot, right?

Tris: You're going to the Kingsmoot? Oh no, that’s a bad idea. You shouldn’t try to be ruler of the Iron Isles. You should become my wife. Let’s get married and have tons and tons of children.

Asha: OMG Tris. Look. When we were little kids we boned each other, okay? Was there a time I thought I loved you? Yeah. But there was also a time that I played with My Little Pony. And grown ass people don’t play with My Little Pony any more.

Tris: Some do. Especially adult makes approaching or just passed their 40s.

Asha: Yes, I do not understand that at all and it is quite worrysome. But my point is this… I am not a little girl anymore, fumbling to tear our clothes off and figure out how to do the nasty. I’ve moved on and so should you.

Tris: So should I? What do you mean! I’ve been waiting my whole life for you! I’ve saved myself for you and touched no other woman!

Asha: HAHAHAHA… what? Like… like REALLY?

Tris: Y-yes. Of course! Surely you’ve been saving yourself for me too!

Asha: Oh you’re serious? LET ME LAUGH EVEN HARDER! HAHAHAHAHAHA, oh wow… Tris, Tris, Tris. I have not saved myself for you. I cannot COUNT the number of men I’ve slept with. And that’s just the men. Women is a whole other story.

Tris: W-w-what?!  NO! It can’t be true! You’re mine!

He grabs her to hold onto her and that WAS NOT A GOOD IDEA. She immediately spins him around and sticks a blade up to his neck.

Asha: DO. NOT. TOUCH.  Unless I ask for you to touch me. #feminism #metoo.  You wanna have a woman? Fine. Have a woman tonight. I’ll send you one.  There is this girl I know who even looks a little bit like me. Wrong hair though. You can put a wig on her and pretend she’s me. Work out all that repressed sexual tension. But you know what you’re not getting? Me. I am not your woman. I AM YOUR QUEEN.

She drops the mic. Even though she wasn’t holding a mic and microphones aren’t even a thing that have been invented yet.

She releases the knife from his neck and a drop of blood slowly runs down it. It’s a very visually artistic way to end a chapter visually. You know, I guess. It’s a book so you have to imagine how artsy it is. Black and white? Sure. Maybe saturation and a close-up. Whatever.

AFfC 10: Sansa I

Marillion the Singer is singing all day and night from his prison cell. It’s keeping everyone in Eyrie awake and it’s super annoying.

Marillion: I’m a barbie girl! In a barbie world! Life in plastic! It’s fantastic!

See? He’s just the worst, right? You can see how this would be totally annoying.

Sansa: OMG Littlefinger, make him stop. It’s haunting me and I already have a high tolerance for terrible pop music.

Littlefinger: Yes, you must since you’re engaged to a Jonas Brother.  But alas, I can’t make him stop. I promised to allow it as one of the conditions of him going along with our story that he was the one who killed Lady Lysa in a fit of jealousy.

Sansa: It’s odd that he’s going along with our story considering that he’ll be executed if he goes along with it. Not that he doesn’t deserve it. You know, what with him being an overall horrible human being who tried to rape me, etc.

Littlefinger: Yes. Lord Nestor Royce, the High Steward of the Vale and the ACTING Keeper of the Gates of the Moon will arrive tomorrow. He will have many questions about the death of Lysa. Hopefully Marillion will long with our story. But even if he doesn’t, it’s still two against one. Who do you think Royce will believe? Everyone except for Lysa and little Robert hated Marillion anyway. I won’t let Royce harm my wonderful daughter!

Sansa: Uhh… but I’m not your daughter for real. Just for pretend.

Littlefinger: Yes, I know that. It’s more like you’re playing my stepdaughter in one of those dirty internet “Oops, I banged my stepdad” movies.

Sansa: No. A million times no.

Littlefinger: Anyway, we stick to the same story we told little Robert.

Sansa: Well, Robert fell for that story because he’s stupid as hell.  Will Lord Nestor believe it? Besides, it’s a lie. And isn’t lying bad?

Littlefinger: A lie isn’t bad if it’s for the greater good.

Sansa: And what about all that stuff Lysa said right before she fell? You know, like about how you and her plotted together for years, killed her husband, and started off this whole storyline that caused my father to go south to become the new Hand of the King and which caused my entire family to die and the Kingdom to plunge into civil war.

Littlefinger: Eh, the ravings of a mad woman. You shouldn’t believe it.

Sansa: Are you sure?

Littlefinger: Of course, I would never lie to you!

Sansa: You just said that lies are good if they’re for the greater good. That implies you have a pretty pro-lie policy.

Littlefinger: Did I? Well never mind. I was lying about that.

Sansa: *sigh*

Sansa tries to sleep that night, but is again kept awake by Marillion and his terrible singing.

Marillion: *mumbles heavily auto-tuned rap*

Sansa: Oh God, that’s the worst. “Marillion” even sounds like the name of a mumble rapper.

After not sleeping again for another night, an exhausted Sansa then joins with Lord Protector Baelish as he meets with Lord Nestor.

Littlefinger: Lord Nester, it’s a pleasure.

Nester: Oh, Littlefinger. Please meet my son, Ser Albar.

Albar: Yo.

Littlefinger: And you please meet my natural daughter, Alayne.

Sansa: …

Littlefinger: *ahem* My daughter, Alayne.

Sansa: …

Littlefinger: *elbows Sansa*

Sansa: OH CRAP! That’s me? I mean… yeah.  That’s me. Sorry. So sleepy.

Sansa might be tired, but she’s not so tired that she doesn’t notice that Nestor and Albor came with dozens of knights and soldiers. If Lord Nestor doesn’t believe their story about the death of Lysa, there will be hell to pay.

Littlefinger: Alayne, be a good girl and go fetch Lord Robert.

Sansa: Ugh. If I have to.

Sansa goes to get the young Robert, who is crying and complaining. Sansa hates this annoying brat, for obvious reasons. But with Lysa dead, he’s been even worse. Some nights he crawled into her bed and tried to use her as his wet nurse. He also pees the bed a lot because he’s the worst.  Needless to say, Sansa has started locking her door to keep him out.

Sansa: Come on, you have to go meet with Lord Nestor.

Robert: No! I don’t want to! Lord Nester is stupid and ugly. I’m afraid of him.

Sansa: Come on, you have to go to the High Hall now and sit in the big chair for the important, brave leader of the Vale.

Robert: No, that’s where mommy died! I don’t wanna go to the High Hall.

Sansa: Whatever.

She grabs his ass and drags him there anyway.  As she walks in, she finds Baelish in the middle of explaining everything that happened.

Littlefinger: So you see, what had happened was, Marillion threw Lady Lysa out of the Moon Door. Isn’t that right, Lord Robert?

Robert: Yes. That bad singer man killed my mommy! Alayne and Petyr saw it!

Sansa is shaking as they tell the story.  Lord Nestor notices.

Littlefinger: You see that? See how my daughter is still traumatized even thinking about it? She’s shaking with fear!  Isn’t that right, Alayne?

Sansa: *crying* Y-y-yes?

Robert: FLY! I WANT TO SEE THE BAD MUSIC MAN FLY! AGHHH!!!!

He then falls onto the floor and starts to have another fit, convulsing around.

Littlefinger: Ugh, his poor Lordship. Have him sent back to bed to be leeched.

And Robert is taken away.

Nestor: Hrmmm…Well.

He stands there with a very contemplative look on his face. What will he say. Will he believe them?

Nestor: I never did trust that singer. He came along with that Imp Tyrion and was just the worst. I told Lysa to send him away, but she refused. And now look what happened.

Littlefinger: Yes Nestor, you’re a very smart man. If only Lysa would have listened to you, my dear wife would still be alive!  I came along… and I finally got her to agree to kick him out. And so she finally told him that he was banished. That’s when he went into the fit of rage and threw her out the Moon Door.

Nestor: Yes. Sounds legit. Still. I guess we should let the man speak for himself. Bring him out!

And Marillion is marched out form his cell to speak about what happened.

Nestor: Go on, singer. Tell us how it went down.

Sansa is still shaking. What is this dude gonna say? He's going to be executed if he confesses so why confess?  Oh that's right... Sansa figures it out when she sees him. It's so that he's executed QUICKLY and painlessly instead of slowly tortured.

As He’s brought out, Sansa sees that his eyes have been gouged out and some of his fingers removed. I mean maybe some people will feel a little for him. But those people are wrong. This dude totally deserved all of that, even if he is innocent of the particular thing he’s being charged with.

Marillion: Yes! I did it! I was so jealous of Lord Baelish taking Lysa from me. Oh, I loved her so and I killed her when she said she was going to send me away! PLEASE GOD END MY LIFE NOW.

Littlefinger: See?

Nestor: Yes, yes. It all adds up. Send him away.

Marillion is led back to his cell.

Nestor: Well, I suppose Marillion should be put out of his damn misery soon.

Littlefinger: Indeed. Let’s talk more up in Lady Lysa’s solar. My dear Alayne, come pour wine for us.

They head up to the solar, and this time Sansa remembers that she is Alayne and follows.

In the solar, they talk further.

Nestor: You know, all of the bannermen to the Arryns will want to come here and confirm the story as well. My cousin, Bronze Yohn will be especially skeptical of you. He has not been happy with the fact that you have been named Lord Protector. He was not happy that you married Lady Lysa in the first place.

Littlefinger: Wait, which one is Bronze Yohn? Is that the guy who keeps complaining about his son Waymar who went missing in the very first chapter of this entire series?

Nestor: Yep, that’s the one.

Littlefinger: Well, I guess he’ll just have to listen to reason and evidence. Oh, by the way… before Lysa was so tragically murdered you know what she said to me? She was like, “I love Lord Nestor so much! He’s the best! You know how he’s ACTING Keeper of the Gates of the Moon? That’s such BS! I want to make him the PERMANENT Keeper of the Gates, and make the title hereditary, so that it’s passed on to his children and his children’s children. This will create a new House and Title called the House Royce of the Gates of the Moon.”

Lord Nestor begins to tear up with happiness.

Nestor: I… I… I can’t believe she said that! It’s so… so… wonderful! WOW! I never knew Lady Lysa respected and loved me so much!

Littlefinger: Oh, it’s true. It’s all totally true. And here is a parchment she had drawn up to make it all official. But you know what happened right before she signed it?  That asshole Marillion murdered her.

Nestor: TERRIBLE!

Littlefinger: So I, as the Lord Protector of the Vale until Robert comes of age, fulfilled Lady Lysa’s final wishes and plans and I signed it in her place. You and your family will be a House of Great Nobility, and Keepers of the Gate for all time.

Nestor: YESSSS!!!!!

Littlefinger:  BUT...

Nestor: …Oh, there is an “but” here?

Littlefinger: Yes, unfortunately so. BUT if your cousin, Bronze Yohn, and the other bannermen of the House Arryn declare me as a false and untrustworthy Lord Protector… then of course anything like this that I signed will be declared null and void. Then your cousin and the others will try to rob you of this noble and meaningful title that Lady Lysa wanted you to have. Those greedy relatives will probably claim it for themselves and say something like, “This title belongs to the Arryns and has for all time. It should NOT go to Lord Nestor.”

Nestor: GASP! That’s awful! Those monsters want to steal this title from me.

Littlefinger: Indeed, they probably do. So I guess really the only way for you to protect your title and to get everything you and your family deserve is to remain totally loyal to me and be on my side.

Nestor nods his head.

Nestor: Well fucking played, Littlefinger. Well played.

Nestor shakes Littlefinger’s hand and gives him a head nod.

Nestor: A toast to Lord Protector Baelish and his faithful service!

They have drinks and eventually, Lord Nestor and his entourage depart.

Sansa: Wow, I can’t believe that that blatantly obvious ploy for him to be on your side worked.

Littlefinger: Indeed. He knows that now if I’m deposed… he’s deposed too. Together, all these Arryn bannermen will oppose me. But if I divide them up one by one… make promises to them… divide and conquer… then I can win them all. And that, my sweet daughter, is how you play the Game of Thrones if you want to win—

Alarms start flashing and horns sound. Chairry, Magic Screen, Pterri, Mr. Window, Clockey, Conky 2000 and all the others start shouting wildly and flailing their arms/wings/seat cushions/whatever they have around. The text "Game of Thrones" flashes again and again.
Sansa: Oh shit. This again?

Cowboy Curtis: He just said the Secret Word!

Pee-Wee: HEH-HEH!!

And as quickly as they all appeared, they all vanish right back out of the Moon Door. 

Sansa: Ugh. Where were we? Oh right. You were calling me your daughter again, which is a super weird thing to do in private. It’s just us two now. We don’t have to keep up the lie.

Littlefinger: Oh, but we do. Even in private. From now on, you must always be Alayne. You never know when someone might walk in or be listening. We’ve got to take this Alayne thing to the max now. Your chapters should now even be titled “Alayne” instead of “Sansa.”

Sansa: What? Really?

Littlefinger: Yes. After all, this book is already doing really stupid things with chapter names. Why not add another stupid thing?  But anyway… with my wits and Cat’s beauty… the world will be yours!

Sansa: Creepy.

That night, Sansa goes to bed and this time she forgets to lock the door. She’s woken up… not by Marillion singing though. It’s damn Robert.

Robert: Alayne! Are you my new mommy now?

Sansa: Gross. No. I mean… uhh… yes, I guess I am? You know… a lie can be good if it’s for a good reason. I suppose. Although arguably I could suffocate you with a pillow when you sleep and say it's for a good reason too.

AFfC 9: Brienne II

Brienne arrives at Duskendale before dawn and awaits for the gates of the city to open.  She’s there with a few other smallfolk and farmers.  Finally she gets in and starts asking other people about this “totally not Sansa” person that she’s looking for.

No luck here either.

Captain: HEY YOU! GIANT WOMAN ASKING EVERYONE ABOUT SANSA STARK!

Brienne: Huh? Me?

Captain: Yeah. Who else would I be talking to? Are there any other giant women around here?

Brienne: I guess not, but I’m definitely NOT talking about Sansa Stark. I’m talking about my sister, a fair maid with auburn hair who might be traveling with a jester--

Captain: --Blah, blah blah. Sansa Stark. We get it. Everyone gets it. That’s not my reason for shouting at you though. I’m shouting at you about that shield you’re carrying. The one with the black bat on it, representing the House Lothston. You know we don’t appreciate Lothstons around here. You people are evil. We know all about the stories of Lady Danelle Lothston, who bathed in tubs of blood and presided over feasts of human flesh.

Brienne: Oh yeah, I met some guy on the road who was also complaining my bat shield thing. It’s not my house. Jaime Lannister found the shield in the armory of Harrenhal and gave it to me. I’m not a Lothston. It’s a good shield, but I’ve been meaning to have it repainted.

Captain: Really? Because you will not BELIEVE THIS COINCIDENCE! ACT NOW FOR ONLY $19.97, PLUS SHIPPING AND HANDLING, AND A NEWLY PAINTED SHIELD CAN BE YOURS! THIS DEAL IS SO CRAZY, MY SISTER WILL PROBABLY TAKE A LOSS ON IT.

Brienne: Oh, your sister is a shield painter, huh?

Captain: Yes.

Brienne: Do you just criticize everyone’s shields when they come into town as part of a scheme with your sister to use your powerful position as captain of the guards in this city to graft people off her profits?

Captain: Maybe a little.

Brienne: Still though. It does need to be painted.

Brienne goes to get it painted.

Captain’s Sister: What the hell?! Are you some kind of Lothston? You know Lady Danelle Lothston used to bath in tubs of the blood of--

Brienne: ---Yeah, yeah, yeah. Heard it all before. I’m not a Lothston. Just got a good quality used shield for a good price, e.g. free. Well, it sort of cost Jaime a hand and me several near rapes and murders. But other than that, free.

Captain’s Sister: Oh, so where are you from then?

Brienne: Tart----uhhhh… I mean, no. Not there. What’s that place that has, like, a sigil of a tree on a hill. And there is a big comet in the sky floating over the tree?

Captain’s Sister: Never heard of it. And I’m surprised you can’t remember the same of the place you’re from.

But Brienne has no idea where the sigil is actually from. It was just a shield she remembered that used to hang in her father’s armory when she was growing up. Maybe a sigil that is totally associated with Ser Duncan the Tall and all of GRRM’s prequel novels.
Brienne: Eh, just paint that.

Captain’s Sister: Okay, will do.

As the woman goes off to paint Brienne’s new Duncan the Tall shield, she checks into an inn and takes a bath. Because Lord be Remiss if GRRM didn’t describe every single scene where a female character bathes. The creeper.

Afterwards, she goes to the main fort of the town and asks to see the Lord of the Castle.

Brienne: I wish to see Lord Rykker.

Guard: Dumbass. Lord Rykker is out with Lord Picard... uh... I mean Tarley. He’s not even in this town. He’s at Maidenpool.

Brienne: Oh. Can I see whoever is in charge then?

Guard: Eh, I guess you can see the Castellan.

She goes to see the Castellan, a man named Rufus Leek. But instead of seeing, Leek - she runs into the castle’s Maester.  She tells him about the girl and man that she is looking for.

Maester: OMG. ANOTHER PERSON LOOKING FOR DONTOS HOLLARD?

Brienne: -wwwhhhaaaaaa? You mean someone else is looking for Dont...err… I mean nooooo, I’m not looking for Dontos at all. I’m looking for someone else.

Maester: Yes you are.

Brienne: Okay, fine. I am.

She pulls out a letter with Tommen’s signature (that Jaime had put together), explaining that she was on the King’s business.

Maester: Whatever. Let me tell you the story of about how Lord Darklyn captures King Aerys, and made sure that his Hand, Lord Tywin, was unable to capture him back for six months. Then after Tywin finally did break through, the Darklyns were all executed.  The Hollards who served the Darklyns, were also stripped of titles and/or killed. All except for Dontos, who Barristan the Bold specifically asked to be spared.  Dontos never returned to Duskendale after that. So why you’re looking for him here, I have no idea. Because he’s not. If you ask me, he’s gone to Oldtown or he’s crossed the narrow sea and left the Seven Kingdoms completely.

Brienne: Oh.

Brienne thinks about it. But she doubts that Sansa would go to Oldtown or cross the sea. Wouldn’t she want to go somewhere that she had family?  I mean, all of her family is dead. But still. She’s a northerner with northern gods.

Brienne: I guess there is her half brother on the Wall. But that’s probably too far.  Then there is her great uncle at Riverrun. No. That’s probably too much in the front lines of the war for Sansa to dare reach.  I guess all that is left is Sansa’s aunt in the Vale. That would be fairly simple to get to, I suppose. Although this is clearly a conclusion I could have reached on my own a very long time ago after I set out from Kings Landing, rather than travelling all over the place looking for Dontos, only to ignore the advise of people who told me the places Dontos would go.

Brienne leaves the castle and accidently heads into a dead-end alley. As she heads out, she runs into a young boy.

*BUMP*

Brienne: OW! Hey, watch where you’re going, kid.

Boy: Oh, sorry.

Brienne: Hey, you look sort of familiar. Have I met you befire?

Boy: Uhh… no?

Brienne: Oh, cool then.

She leaves and goes back to the inn where she was at before. She wants to get some food from the tavern part downstairs, and a septon who is a dwarf gives up his seat to her.

Brienne: Thank you, kind septon. Please tell me, have you seen [clearly descriptions of Sansa Stark and Dontos Hollard].

Dwarf Sparrow: Hrm. Well now, I haven’t seen any maid like you’ve described. But I have seen a fool dressed in motley like you’re saying.

Brienne: WHAT?! REALLY?! OMG, this is the first time I’ve had anyone say something even remotely close to “yes” as an answer to me! Where did you see him?!

Dwarf Sparrow: Maidenpool. At a pretty seedy place called the Stinking Goose. He was seeking passage for three to cross the narrow sea.

Brienne: Three?! THREE?! Oh, wow! There are three of them, huh? But who else would be with Dontos and Sansa? And why exactly were you, a Sparrow of the Faith of the Seven, hanging out in a seedy pub in Maidenpool?

Dwarf Sparrow: Hey look, I go where sinners are. Ya hear me? Anyway, I don’t really have any more information about who this fool could be or who he was traveling with. But there was ANOTHER man at the same pub a few days later named “Nimble Dick,” and he was claiming that he “fooled a fool out of his gold.”  So this Dick guy might have more information.

Brienne: Really? Really? Is that’s what happening here? A pious dwarf is telling me to go to Maidenpool to meet a guy named Nimble Dick? Am I being punked here? Am I going to go through with this?  Although it is a good lead. Maybe the third person is Tyrion! Yeah! That’s possible!

Dwarf Sparrow: HEY! Why does talking to me, a dwarf, make you suddenly think of Tyrion?

Brienne: I… ahh… ermm…

Dwarf Sparrow: Haha, just messing with you. I’m not offended. I am a man of the faith, after all.

Brienne: Hrm. Maidenpool? On the one hand, that’s a pretty good lead. But on the other hand, Lord Randyll Tarly is there and I’ve had run-ins with him in the past. He hates me for a woman “trying to be a man.” His worldview was essentially that I could be cured with “a good few rapings.”

Dwarf Sparrow: Yeah, that sounds pretty consistent with the general portrayal of Sam’s dad in the books and the show. I don’t think anyone will mourn if one of Dany’s dragons sets him on fire.

Brienne: Still though, Maidenpool is on the water and has ships. If the story about the three fleeing to Essos doesn’t check out, I can still get on a ship and go North towards Winterfell.

As she reflects on things, she hears others in the bar talking about the murder of Lord Tywin. They say that the evil Kingslayer Jaime will probably now rule until Tommen comes of age.  Once a Jaime-hater, Brienne is now angry that they’re talking smack about her pretend boyfriend. She angrily heads up to bed for the night, and has dreams about Renly and Jaime. You know what kind.

The next day, she goes to get her shield.

Captain’s Sister: Here you go. A tree with a comet. Cool, right?

Brienne: Yeah, it looks just like the one from my dad’s armory. Cool.

She then leaves town. As she does, she passes by a mass grave for dead northerners and stops to pray for the souls of all the dead Starks. She renews her vow to find Sansa and/or Arya, no matter what the cost.

She rides on for the day. All day long in fact. When night falls, she shelters in the ruins of an old castle.  She notices an emblem on the wall.

Brienne: HOLY CONVENIENT COINCIDENCE! That emblem! I think it’s related to the Hollard family.  This might be a clue. Maybe Dontos did come this way. Maybe… uh…

She gets quiet. She hears a horse in the distance. The dude riding the horse is trying to be all sneaky. But a horse can only be so stealthy.

Brienne: Probably Ser Shadrich, isn’t it? He’s probably come to gloat about all his shad that he has. He’s so rich in shad!

She jumps out from the shadows to attack Ser Shadrich when she sees---

Brienne: --SHADRICH! HOW DARE YOU FOLLOW ME! I WILL NOW KILL--- oh, oh no wait. It’s that boy.  That boy that ran into me in the alley. The one I’ve seen before. Several times. But I can’t recognize from where. Who are you? Tell me, boy!

Boy: M-m-my my name i-is-is P-p-p-p-p

Brienne: Oh gosh, this is going to take forever. Your name is Pee Pee?

Boy: Podrick Payne.

Brienne: Ah, faster than I thought. Pray tell one question though - who the fuck is Podrick Payne and why should I know you?

Pod: Oh, I’m Tyrion Lannister’s former squire. My master. He disappeared.

Brienne: And what exactly does that have to do with you stalking me?

Pod: Well, his lady wife. Sansa. You’re looking for her, right?  Tyrion vanished too. So I figured maybe if I could find his wife, I could find him.

Brienne: Ah. Well, I guess this is now a buddy comedy.

AFfC 8: Jaime I

Remember how in that last Cersei chapter that Jaime was standing vigil over his father’s corpse in the Sept of Baelor? Well, he still is in this chapter.

Jaime: Oh man, this is totally my fault. I helped Tyrion escape from prison and he murdered our father. This is super messed up. I thought Varys was going to take Tyrion to a ship. Not to take him up to murder my dad.  I’m so riddled with guilt that I can’t even sleep.

Someone Near By: Huh? What was that?

Jaime: NOTHING! I said nothing!  Anyway, I haven’t seen Varys either.  It wasn’t part of the plan for Varys to vanish too. Just Tyrion. Maybe Tyrion killed Varys too.  Tyrion did confess to killing Joffrey, after all. Maybe he really is the monster they all said he is.

Jaime then flashes back to earlier, when he was deep in the tunnels underneath the Red Keep. He was leading a party of men who had to search for how Tyrion might have escaped. Of course, Jaime knows damn well how Tyrion escaped because he was part of the plot to get him out. But he has to, you know, pretend.  It’s pretty hilarious how the guy who set Tyrion free is also assigned to lead a bunch of men to figure out how Tyrion got free. More like a Song of Irony and Fire, am I right?

Jaime thinks about how he was down in the tunnels he saw those dragon bones, and when he saw those dragon bones he flashed back again. Yep, that’s right. This is a flashback INSIDE OF A FLASHBACK!  Jaime is now in the Sept, flashing back to the tunnels, to when he flashed back to to Robert’s Rebellion.

Young Jaime: Oh wow! Hey Prince Rhaegar.

Rhagar: Yo, whattup Jaime?

Jaime: Uhh… so you’re leaving, huh? You’re heading out to go fight Robert Baratheon on the battlefield?

Rhaegar: Yes, I am.

Jaime: And you’re saying that I need to be the one left behind to guard your dad, King Aerys II, while you take most of the other Kingsguard and soldiers with you out to battle?

Rhaegar: Yes, we will need fierce warriors to defend the realm from this rebellion. Plus some of the Kingsguard are needed to defend the heirs in the line to the throne.

Jaime: Right, an heir like yourself. I get that. But let’s just say one of the Kingsguard, like your best friend Arthur Dayne, was sent to the Tower of Joy in Dorne instead of with you. Why would that make sense? Shouldn’t the Kingsguard only be protecting the King and his heirs?

Rhaegar: Just shut up Jaime, and get to the point.

Jaime: I mean I’m a teenager. Why leave me behind to protect the King?

Rhaegar: You’re leverage, Jaime. My father is scared of your father and he knows with you in his power, Lord Tywin will never think about joining forces with Robert Baratheon. Because, you know, there was that little rumor going around that he would. Like, something about him being super angry and spiteful for all these years, given that my dad chose to marry me to Elia Martell rather than your sister, as he had hoped.

Jaime: Mmm, this is some great backstory.

Rhaegar: Anyway, bro. Robert will be defeated soon, so we won’t have to worry about this kind of stuff for much longer. Hey man, I know my dad is batshit crazy these days. And I know things around Kings Landing have gotten hectic.  But after I’m back from the war, I promise changes will be coming. That’s right, I’m going to call a Small Council meeting and make a number of long overdue changes! 

Jaime: Okay, see you when you’re back from the war, which is going to happen! Have fun a the Trident!

Rhaegar: Cool. Don’t stab my dad while I’m gone.

Jaime: …

Rhaegar: HAHAHAHA!

Jaime: Oh. Right. A joke? Hahahha. Yeah. Good one, Rhaegar!

Of course, Rhagar never came back from the war. And Jaime did stab Rhaegar’s dad in the back. These types of things just happen.

Back to the present…

Jaime: Well, Rhaegar was right about one thing. Big changes did come. Didn’t they?

Someone Near By:  Dude, are you talking to me? It doesn’t seem like it. It seems like you’re just mumbling to yourself.

Jaime: Oh, uh… sorry. I’m just sort of talking to my dad’s corpse.

Someone Near By: You’re weird dude, I’m leaving.

He leaves, which isn’t a narrative problem for the story going forward because I just made him up and he’s not actually in the Chapter.

Jaime: *sigh* You know, in one sense I’m riddled by guilt about being a part of you getting murdered by Tyrion, dad. But in another sense I sort of feel no grief or anger at all. Should I feel sad?  I didn’t feel sad when Joffrey died either. I threw that Bran kid out of a window and didn’t blink an eye. Am I a sociopath?

Probably.

Jaime: But then again, I’m probably not the only one who ISN’T sad about my dad dying. Hell, almost everyone who has come here to “pay their respects” to him probably are secretly glad that he’s dead. The only one who looked like he was legitimately grieving was Maester Pycelle. But then again that guy is such a Lannister Brown-Noser.  He went on this long diatribe about how Tywin was a greater man than any of the six kings he has served. Which sounds kinda treasonous. Whatever. That old man is dying anyway. Cersei called him useless. But then again she calls everybody useless. Or treasonous. Because speaking of sociopaths… oh yeah… my sister is one. Those two turnkey guards who Varys gave the dreamwine to in order to make them drift off so that I could visit Tyrion? She’s already had them executed by the Kettleblacks. The Kettleblacks who are supposed to report to me. Jesus, man. I had to tell them to stop murdering people on Cersei’s orders. Lest everyone who lives in the Red Keep soon wind up executed.

Jaime then smells his dad. Oh, he’s been stinking the whole time. Jaime tried to put it off, but the smell has been getting worse. Jaime then goes into more flashback mode stuff about Brienne, taking his oaths to join the Kingsguard, etc.  But I don’t have time to narrate and flash back to all of that too. You’ve read enough damn flashback nonsense for now.

Looking forwards, he again wonders what his legacy will be - what will be written about him in the Kingsguard White Book.

Jaime stands vigil pretty much forever. People try to relieve him of duty, but he refuses. Is it that whole guilt thing? Anyway. Even after everyone has gone, he’s still there. And I mean everyone. The place is dead empty and it’s the middle of the night. Nobody else… until someone sneaks in, hiding themselves in a cloak.

Cloaked Woman: Pssst! Jaime!

Jaime: Oh, hey Cersei.

Cersei: DAMNIT! Don’t say my name! I’m supposed to be in disguise.

Jaime: Oh, uh… hi… Not Cersei?

Cersei: Ugh. Look, I’ve come to tell you something important. Kevan knows about us.

Jaime: I’m pretty sure everyone knows about us.

Cersei: What? Really?

Jaime: Yeah.

Cersei: Tyrion must have told him! That’s the only way he could have known.

Jaime: No, stop being paranoid and blaming everything on Tyrion. It’s super obvious. Two guys named Logic and Common Sense told everyone.

Cersei: Who knows who else Tyrion told?! Probably the Tyrells, who he plotted with to escape!

Jaime: Are you even listening to my lines or are you just going on with your own version of the truth while disregarding any factual counterpoints I provide you?

Cersei: I need you, Jaime! You need to stay with me and help raise Tommen right. You need to be the Hand and council the King. You need to be with me! You told me you’d love me and you’d always be there for me.

Jaime: I mean, guys say a lot of things when they’re trying to get laid.  And Tommen is only my kid in blood, but in no other way have I ever raised him.  Basically what I’m trying to say though, is that I was made for the battlefield. Not for the council chamber.

Cersei: FINE! IF ITS BATTLES YOU WANT, THEN BATTLES YOU WILL GET! I’m gonna send you away off to war and get you out of my sight.

Jaime: As some sort of punishment?

Cersei: YES! MWAHAHA! See? Now I’ve gotten the best of you for your defiance! I’ve shown you! Cercei the all powerful regent rules again! No one can defy her mighty will!

Jaime: Well, uh… it’s a pretty bad punishment, considering it’s what I just asked for. I said I didn’t want to be the stupid Hand of the King and instead I’d rather go off to the battlefield. You want me to be the Hand. I want to go to war. Now you’re sending me to war. You’re not getting what you want. I am getting what I want. I think that means that I win.

Cercei: NO! IMPOSSIBLE! I WIN! I ALWAYS WIN! I AM A GENIUS!

Jaime: Okay, bye crazy lady.

She leaves.

Dawn comes and Jaime is still standing there. Only now Tywin is visibly rotting.
Jaime: Nasty.

Tommen then shows up again.

Tommen: Eww! This stinks. Grandpa smells like rotting poo. *vomits*

Jaime: I mean, he’s not wrong.

Jaime takes Tommen outside of the sept and pretends that he cares or has any loving feelings towards his biological son. 

Jaime: There, there Tommen. It will be okay.

Tommen: I wasn’t scared, Uncle Jaime… I swear! It’s just the smell! It got to me.

Jaime: Yeah, no kidding. Your grandpa is a rotting bag of shit now. You know what else is a rotting bag of shit? Life. Life sucks and you gotta deal with it. Go back inside and stop being a little bitch.

Cersei shows up, and she’s angry again because she always is. Just as she’s about to say some snide shit, Mace Tyrell shows up.

Cersei: Oh… uhm… King Tommen ran away because he was overwhelmed with grief. That’s all.

Mace: Oh yes, yes. Of course.

Jaime then decides to mess with Cersei, just because he can and it would be hilarious.

Jaime: Hey sister! Didn’t you say how you had a lot of important business to discuss with Mace?  Yeah… you said you wanted to have dinner with him tonight.

Cersei: The fuck I di--

Mace: --Oh, what a lovely idea! Yes, Queen Cersei! We have much to think of. What a kind offer. I’ll make the arrangements!

Mace leaves and Cersei turns back to Jaime.

Cersei: You total asshole.

Jaime: HAHAHAHA, THAT’S THE BEST!

Cersei: Why would you dare do that to me? You know I can’t stand that man.

Jaime: Hey look. Since you’re a completely worthless imbecile who comes up with the worst ideas, how about I just feed you some good ones that you will immediately take credit for?  Meet with Tyrell. You hate him and you want him gone? You don’t want him to be Hand of the King? Tell him what a great and esteemed warrior he is, and that you’ll need him to capture Storm’s End. It will make his ego crazy and he’ll love you for it, although you’re getting exactly what you want - him away and not the Hand. He’ll take you throwing him away like garbage as a complement.

Cersei: Shut up, your idea is stupid. The Tyrells are not going to leave until Margaery is married to Tommen.

Jaime: Then MARRY THE TWO! Do it now. Tommen is a little boy and can’t consummate the marriage anyway. It will be years until he’s old enough to do so. In between now and then, if we decide that we don’t need or want the Tyrell alliance anymore… then we’ll find an excuse to break the marriage. It happens all the time.

Cersei then starts smiling.

Cersei: Hrm. Yes. Yes. We could. This is a great plan that I JUST THOUGHT OF. Plus there is a chance that Tyrell will be killed if he goes off to war anyway. I AM A BRILLIANT TACTICAL GENIUS. MY PLAN CANNOT FAIL.

Jaime: Your plan? *sigh*

AFfC 7: Cersei II

Cersei’s back already!

She rides with Tommen to Tywin’s funeral at the Great Sept of Baelor.

Tommen: Ugh. Why do I have to go to Grandma’s funeral? So lame.

Cersei: SHUT UP! You have to go because he’s your grandfather. He was a well-loved man!

Tommen: Really? Because this place seems pretty empty. Doesn’t look like a lot of folks are showing up.

Cersei: It’s… uhmm… the rain. Yes. The rain is keeping people away. Not absolute hatred for the Lannisters amongst the smallfolk. No, it’s not that at all.

They arrive and see the High Septon there. He’s the new High Septon that Tyrion appointed. She hates them just because of that. Because she’s a bitch. But also she smiles when she thinks about her declaration that she’ll give a Lordship to anyone who brings her the imp’s head.

Inside, Twyin’s body is laying in state. Jaime stands there at vigil, wearing his white robes.

Cersei: Ugh. Why are you wearing white? You should be proudly wearing the Lannister colors!

Jaime: Uh, I’m wearing white because I’m a fucking Kingsguard.  Oh, and remember the last time we were both in this Sept together? At this exact same spot? We pretty much had sex right here, on top of our dead son’s body.

Cersei: SHHH!!!! Icks-nay on the ex-say!

Tommen: *sniff*sniff* EWW! Grandpa smells like rotting feces.

Cersei: SHHHH!!!!!! Jesus, you’re terrible at being a respectful, dignified king.

Tommen: Well, I am like 8 or something.

Cersei can’t deny it though. He does smell horrible. Whoever embalmed this guy did a terrible job.

Cersei: Was it Pycelle? Man, that guy is as useless as nipples on a breastplate.

Jaime: GRRM uses that line all the time. I’m pretty sure he’s just making fun of that Batman movie.

As Cersei heads out with Tommen, she thinks she overhears someone making a joke about Tywin smelling live a privy.

Cersei: Grrr! I have no idea who said that, but I’m sure its all part of a massive conspiracy by the Tyrells. I’ve got to get a spy to spy on them! Lady Margaery especially!

After the service, Cersei runs into a bunch of people who pat her on the back and wish her well. What with her father being dead and all.

Falyse Stokeworth: Oh Cersei! Poor you! We will all miss Lord Tywin dearly. As a sign of respect for him, I think my sister Lollys would like to name her child “Tywin.”

Cersei: Oh. Really? Lollys the fat, ugly girl who got gang raped by peasants and got pregnant from it? You want to name that kid Tywin? As a show of RESPECT?

Falyse: Uhmm… ermm… ahh… okay, so maybe that’s NOT a good idea?

Cersei: YOU THINK?!

Kevan: Now, now, my niece. Don’t take your anger out on others. We know you’re sad about your father.

Cersei: I can do what I wa—HOLY SHIT! What is wrong with Lancel? That dude looks sickly as fuck.

Kevan: Ah yes, he’s not been recovering so well from his battle injuries. He’s also not too happy about going off to Marry a Frey girl.

Lancel: Yes, Cersei. Maybe you could speak up for me and I can stay here. You know. With you. *winks*

Cersei: HAHAHA, oh… that’s so sweet? You think just because I banged you out a couple of times that it’s some sort of love? Hahaha… no. I’m done with your ass.

Lancel: Harrumph.

Cersei thinks about how involving Lancel in her conspiracy to get Robert drunk and murdered by a wild boar was a mistake. She’s done with him now and is glad he’s going away to marry some Frey. You see, Cersei is very short-sided and doesn’t fully appreciate that shunning Lancel might make him… you know… talk about everything he knows.

Then the Tyrell posse shows up.

Margaery: OH, SISTER! How sad I feel for you!

Margaery comes up and hugs Cersei.

Cersei: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?

Cersei pushes her off in disgust, because she has no poker face.  Next comes up Lady Merryweather, aka Taena of Myr. She’s the sexy, dark-skinned Myrish wife of Lord Orton Merryweather and one of Maergery’s friends.

Taena: Cersei, you know I’m from the Free Cities, right? I have friends there. If there is any chance that the Imp has escaped there, I can help you out.

She winks at Cersei.

Cersei: Hrm. Aren’t you one of the ones that totally lied for us at Tyrion’s trial… making up some shit about you seeing him drop something into Joffrey’s wine? Yeah. I like you.

Mace Tyrell: Well Cersei. Now that your Lord Father is dead, I guess we should talk about the now vacant position of Hand of the King. You know who would be great at that? Me! Yeah… two Tyrells on the Small Council! It’s gonna be so awesome.

Cersei: Excuse me now? Say what? Two Tyrells on the King’s Small Council?

Mace: Yeah, duh. Garth Tyrell is coming to the city to take up the position of Master of Coin. Didn’t you hear? Tywin made the arrangements while Tyrion was in prison.

Cersei: He didn’t tell me about those plans.

Mace: So?

Cersei: So, I am the regent now. I rule until my son comes of age. And I have already promised that position to someone else.

Mace: What?! Who?!

But Cersei was lying. She didn’t promise that position to anyone. She just doesn’t want a fucking Tyrell to have it.

Cersei: Uhm… err… okay Cersei… pick a good one here… erm… uhh… Lord… uhm… Gyles Rosby?! AH! DAMNIT! Why the hell did I say Gyles Rosby?! That guy’s the worst! He’s the coughing guy who seems like he’s on the verge of dying every time he talks.

Mace: I AM FURIOUS!!!! ROSBY! I HAD A DEAL WITH THE LANNISTERS! AND NOW YOU BERTRAY IT WITH—

--Lady Olenna walks in, wearing a pair of cool shades and smoking an unfiltered cigarette.

Queen of Thorns: --Shut your fat ass up, son. It’s not Cersei’s fault that her father didn’t share his plans with her because their family is a shitshow of uncoordinated fuckwits. Well, she’s right and she’s the regent now! So she can do what she wants.

Cersei: Yes! Thank you for agreeing with me. I mean… wait… what?

Queen of Thorns: Garth is a worthless fuckwit, I’m sure not having him here will be fine. He smells worse than Tywin’s nasty ass shit corpse. Although fucking Rosby in his place? Yikes. Any time I see him, I half expect him to puke a bloody lung up.

Cersei: Ah, here comes Mrs. Passive Aggressive who nominally agreed with me while simultaneously insulting everything I do. How about you fuck yourself off back to Highgarden.

Queen of Thorns: That is EXACTLY what I plan to do, but only after I see my granddaughter married to Tommen.  Now come on son, let’s leave this cunt to her pretend mourning.

She grabs Mace by the ear and pulls him away.

Mace: Ow! Ow! Ow!

Cersei: Shit. That bitch is clever. But not as clever as me!

Ha. Whatever.

Cersei: SHUT UP, NARRATOR!  Well… now it looks like I need to go find Lord Gyles and ask him to be the Master of Coin so I don’t get caught up in my lie.

Later…

Lord Gyles: Oh yeah, sure I’d love to be master of co--*COUGH*COUGH*COUGH*COUGH*

Cersei: Perfect. But as part of the deal you need to make one promise. If anyone asks you when I offered you this and you accepted… say it was yesterday. Deal?

Lord Gyles: *COUGH*COUGH*COUGH*COUGH*COUGH*COUGH*

Cersei: I’ll take that as a yes?

Lord Gyles: *COUGH*who*COUGH*will*COUGH*be*COUGH*Hand*COUGH*?

Cersei: Who will be the Hand of the King? Why, Uncle Kevan, of course!

Later again, and back in the castle, Qyburn comes to visit Cersei.

Qyburn: Well, it’s official Varys is officially missing as well. Can’t find him anywhere. Nobody has seen him since the night Tyrion vanished. Also missing is a jailer named Rugen.  And you know what we found in Rugen’s bedroom? He had a brick in the floor under his bed that was loose. Under it? This!

Qyburn shows a gold coin to Cersei. But it’s not a modern gold dragon. It’s an old one, from the days before the conquest when everyone printed their own coins. And where is this coin from?

Cersei: AGH!! FUCKING HIGHGARDEN!!!!!! THOSE TYRELLS!!!!!! Qyburn, speak to no one of this.

Qyburn: As my queen commands.

Cersei: Now tell me what’s up with The Mountain. Is that dude still dying?

Qyburn: Well, that’s a surprisingly more complicated question than you’d think it would be. I have identified his ailment, for sure. The Red Viper’s spear tip was poisoned with the venom of a Manticore. Quite deadly, but thickened some how to be especially slow-acting. He is in great agony and will die.

Cersei: We should just put him out of his misery.

Qyburn: Yes. Well. We COULD do that. Couldn’t we? But, you know. Maybe we could study him as he slowly dies. Then we will learn more about this poison for future reference.

Cersei: You’re one really sick fuck, Qyburn. I really, really like you is what I’m trying to say. Hey, how did you lose your maester’s chain anyway?

Qyburn: Ah, well. It’s really a short story. You know how people study dead bodies to learn more about the nature of life and how life works? Well, I was really more interested in death and how death works. Therefore, logically if we learn about life from studying the dead… we can also learn about death from studying the alive. And by that I mean by cutting them up and torturing them slowly and doing horrible, horrible experiments on them.

Cersei: That sounds horrible!

Qyburn: Well, I mainly just do it to poor people.

Cersei: Ah, okay. Sounds legit and perfectly justifiable. You can do what you want with the Mountain. But… you know… when you’re done, give me his head. We need to send the head to Dorne so they don’t start a giant war on us.

Qyburn: Oh, he doesn’t necessarily need a head for what I’ve got planned. Sounds good to me.

That evening, she has dinner with her uncle.
Cersei: Oh right, I haven’t told you this yet, but whatever… you’re going to be the new Hand of the King.

Kevan: The fuck I will.

Cersei: Excuse me?

Kevan: Making Mace Tyrell the hand would be stupid because Mace is a total fuckwit. But you know what would be stupider? NOT making him the hand, and instead making the Tyrells our enemy.

Cersei: Fuck that. He’s the worst. The kingdom needs you!

Kevan: Do they? Well okay then. Let’s make a deal. I’ll become the Hand of the King… but only if I get to be regent too.

Cersei: Uhh… no. I am regent.

Kevan: No. If I am the Hand, then I will rule. You can pack your bags for fucking Casterly Rock and never come back here.

Cersei: HELL NO! Tommen is my son! I will not leave him behind.

Kevan: Yeah, and what a great mother you are. I mean look how awesome Joffrey turned out.

Cersei throws wine in his face. Which is unusual for Cersei, because it means that she wasted wine. Any minute, I’m sure she’ll be over to lap it up.

Kevan: You make enemies very easily, Cersei. It would not be wise to make enemies with me as well.  If you will not make me regent, then at least make me castellan of Casterly Rock. Give the Hand to either Mathis Rowan or Randyll Tarly.  Mace will not be happy that it is not him, but both Rowan and Tarly are bannermen to the Tyrells. Mace will be unable to object to that, and yet both are malleable enough so that they will obey their regent rather than Mace.

Cersei: No! You can’t leave and go to Casterly Rock! You’re abandoning your King in his time of need!

Kevan: What does Tommen need me for? He has his mother still here with him. And his father too.

Cersei: What do you mean? Robert is de—oh yeah, right. You know about the Jaime thing. Right.