A Storm of Swords: Prologue

Chett drives around in a circle in his orange 1969 Dodge Charger with a Confederate Flag painted on the top. 

Chett: YEEEE-HAWWWWWW!!!!  Let's catch us up a bear, y'all!!!!

Lark the Sisterman: Stop spinning that car around! You're going to scare the bears away with all that noise.


Small Paul: I wish I had a pet birdie. I love birdies!

Chett: Well, I reckon y'all ain't fixin' to help me catch no bear with my dogs. Cuz my dogs gone and done got all starved. So I'mma hunt with good ol' General Lee here!

He blasts the horn and it plays "Dixie."

Lark: Uhh... wait a minute... who's POV chapter is this?

Then Chett suddenly realizes...

Chett: Why... it's... it's MINE! YESSIREE! CHETT HAS A POV CHAPTER! YOWIEEE!!! I knew I'd be a main character. Why, I tell ya! That Jon Snow and that fat piggy Samwell Tarly... I'll get my revenge on them for taking away my sweet, comfortable job as Maester Aemon's steward! And now that I'm a POV character, I'm going to rise to the top! Oh yes I will!

Lark: But I was just thinking... every character that has so far started off the books with a POV chapter has died.

Chett: W-what?

Small Paul: Yeah. A Game of Thrones began with Will. He died.

Lark: Right. And then A Clash of Kings began with that foolish old Maester of Dragonstone, Cressen, drinking his own poison.

Chett: But... I... uhh... I mean... what? Really? Every POV chapter guy dies?

Lark: I mean so far.

Chett: NO WAY! This is your chapter now, Lark! Take it!

Lark: Nope. Too late. All yours, Chett.

Inconsolable, Chett drinks a bunch of his moonshine that he was initially fixin' to smuggle across the Hazzard County line to avoid taxation. 

Chett: Well. Maybe I won't die. Maybe this time it will be different! Why, I have a great plan to make sure I stay alive. And that's to hunt a DIFFERENT type of bear now. The Old Bear, Mormont!

And so Chett explains his plot to murder Lord Commander Mormont. He, Lark, Small Paul, and about a dozen other co-conspirators will commit the murder TONIGHT! 

Lark: And he's not the only one! We're also gonna a whole LOT of people!

Chett: That's right. I'm actually starving my dogs on purpose. I want them hungry so that they can attack the horses.  We also kill Blane from the Shadow Tower,  Grubbs and Aethan because they've   drawn the watch tonight, Ser Piggy to make sure he can't send out the ravens and because I hate him in general.

Lark: Also, Powell will kill Secretary of State William H. Seward and Atzerodt will go after Vice President Johnson. Remember not to pussy out, Atzerodt!

Chett: I want to gut that piggy Sam myself! Boy, I really hate this trip. 300 of us going against a massive army of thousands of Wildlings coming down from the Milkwater? Forget that nonsense!  We kill the people leading this expedition, and then we peace out.

The plotters then head back to the Fist of the First Men, and along the way they discuss what they'll do after they escape. 

Chett: I'm going to kill Kraster, take his Keep, and marry all his daughters for myself! And I'm going to make them dress all sexy like Daisy Duke in them short blue jean shorts!

Lark: Gross. Isn't Daisy your cousin?

Chett: What's wrong with that?

Lark: *shivers* Anyway, what about you Paul?

Small Paul: I don't care. I just want a pet birdie! After we kill Mormont, I can have his raven, right? The one that talks. Me and him can be best friends and he can talk to me!

Chett: Uhh, sure. Whatever.

They then run into Dolorous Edd and Grenn back at Camp, who are teaching Sam some archery. 

Sam: So... loose the arrow like this?

*THWANG* 

Guy Super Far Away and in Completely Opposite Direction from Target: AGHHHH!!!!!!!

Sam: SORRY!

Edd: Way to go, Katniss.

Sam: Shut up, Edd. Oh hey look, it's that shitty redneck and his friends.

Chett: SHUT UP, PIGGY! I'll show you! I'll get my revenge for you taking my nice job, you'll see! I'll be the character that everybody sympathizes with from now on! I'm the good guy here! I'm the victim!

Edd: Really? Because aren't you in the Night's Watch because you brutally murdered a girl that you had a crush on after she rejected you for being ugly?

Chett: FUUUCKKK YOOUUUU!!!!

Chett, being too much of a pussy to fight Edd, instead kicks one of his dogs and walks away, sulking. 

That night, it gets super cold and everyone is called by the Lord Commander to gather around the central fire at the camp at the Fist. 

Mormont: Okay, hey look everyone. By now you'll have noticed all the wildlife has vanished so we're running out of food. It's just too cold. And with our scouts not returning yet, I think it's time to head out. We ride at dawn to attack the Wildlings.

There is a murmur around the camp. 

Random Guy: That's suicide! We'll all die!

Mormont: Aye, maybe we will all die. Or maybe just the unimportant and irrelevant characters will die, and more important characters will continue to live on. But that's the plan. Get your things ready because we leave at dawn.

Well, this plan to leave at dawn has just proven to Chett and his conspirators that they indeed DO need to attack tonight. The plan can wait no longer or it will be too late.  All they have to do is kill everyone just like they planned, and then make a nice getaway, completely undetected. 

Small Paul: Oooh look! SNOW! Paul likes snow! Yaaaaay! Snow! Fun!

Chett: OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Small Paul: What's wrong? You no like snow?

Chett: This is going to RUIN EVERYTHING! How are we going to escape if it snows? The plan is that we quietly kill a select few people and make our escape! But if it's snowing then there will be snow on the ground. And there is snow on the ground then we'll leave footprints in the snow. And if we leave footprints in the snow... then we'll be TRACKED!

Small Paul: Oh.

Chett: THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT CAN POSSIBLY HAPPEN! I can't imagine anything worse than this.

Sam: Hey there, Chett. What are you talking about?

Chett: Hrm. Fat Piggy. Well, at least I can kill you.

Sam: Say what now?

Chett begins to go for his dagger when--

*HORN BLOWS*

Sam: Oh wow! A horn is blowing! If it's just one blow that means Rangers are coming back. But if it's two blows, that means it's the Free Folk attacking. Let's listen to hear which it is.

They nervously stand there, waiting for a few seconds. 

*HORN BLOWS*

Chett: OH SNAP! Two horn blows! Wildlings are attacking! NOW?!

Sam: Wow! Scary! I'm a coward and I hate battles. This is awful. I can't imagine anything worse than this.

Chett: Oh, I can. I can imagine my whole plan being ruined by--

*HORN BLOWS*

The horn blows a third time. Everyone in the camp stops dead in their tracks. Not just Sam and Chett. Everyone. Every. Fucking. Body. 

Random Watch Guy: Uhm... I'm sorry. What does three blasts mean? I've never actually heard three before.

Chett: It means... The Others!

Chett then bursts into insane nervous laughter and pees himself. Because he's probably going to die very, very soon. 

Random Watch Guy: How the hell did the White Walkers find us?

Other Random Watch Guy: I heard some asshole spinning circles his Dodger Charger earlier. That probably got their attention. 

Chett: WHATEVER. BUT I MADE IT OUT OF THIS POV INTRO CHAPTER ALIVE!

For now.

ACoK 69: Bran VII

Bran, who is very much alive and is not dead like the miller's children, has warged into Summer's body again. And Summer is doing typical wolf shit.

Bran/Summer: I'm just running around. Chasing my tail. Fighting over eating the corpse of a dead horse. Playing with my brother, Shaggydog. Watching Winterfell burn to the ground. You know, typical wolf stuuuuuhhhh.... WAIT A MINUTE. Watching Winterfell burn to the ground?!

Yep.

Voice: Wake up! Bran! Wake up!

Bran: AGH! Damnit! Why did you bring me back down here to the dungeons catacombs below Winterfell. I want to be running around free. Not a cripple in a crypt.

Jojen: Yo Bran, maaaan. You need to eat, maaan. You've been out for three days, bro. Like, whoa. Even a mega-hit of the sativa doesn't knock me out for that long. I think, like, if you keep going into Summer's dreams for that long... one day you'll never come out!

Bran: I don't need to eat. I was already eating that dead horse. I could taste its delicious horse blood in my mouth. Yum! Horse!

Jojen: That's Summer eating the horse, Bran. Not you. You can't get nourishment from your dreams, man. Unless, like, you can. Whoa. That's deep.

Meera: No, I just want to confirm that you CANNOT GET nourishment from your dreams. You do need to eat, Bran. Also, I want to point out that Rickon, Osha, and Hodor are all also here as well.

Osha: Yep. We are. We never left Winterfell. We were hiding in the catacombs the whole time. We only let the dogs loose and then hid out here.

Bran: Oh, and by the way. I saw Winterfell completely on fire out there. And abandoned.

Meera: WHAT?!

Bran: Yeah, it looks like it's been like that for a while. Some big battle. Now Winterfell is totally destroyed. When I was Summer I didn't see anyone. We should probably go out and see what happened.

Osha: That's not a good idea. But then again... we are almost completely out of food. I wonder if it's day or night.

Bran: It's day. I saw that when I was Summer.

Rickon: Oh goodie! Are we leaving then? Are we finally getting out of here? I can't wait to see Shaggydog! He's my best friend!

And so they gather their limited number of things up, and begin to head out of the catacombs for the surface.

Osha: Although we'll need some weapons. Just in case. YOINK!

Osha grabs the sword from Ned Stark's tomb.

Bran: HEY! Way to desecrate my father's grave!

Osha: Shut up. He's not even buried here. Last we know of, his bones were still in the process of being shipped from Riverrun. And this is just some ceremonial sword that was going to decorate a grave. Better we be armed in case Theon or any of his bitch-ass Iron Men are still around.

Bran: Fair point. Let's all steal weapons from graves!!!

Meera takes a sword from Rickard Stark's grave, and Bran takes one from his own uncle Brandon. The others grab swords too, but this isn't a chapter about sword distribution... so we'll just move the story along. I mean it's not like these missing swords will come up multiple books later in a Theon POV chapter taking Lady Dustin through the crypts.

Bran: Look at me now. A cripple with a sword. I bet everyone will be so scared!

Meera: Stop being a mopey little bitch.

And so they head to the passage to exit the catacombs and get out, only to find...

Osha: Nope. It's blocked. Some SUPER HEAVY object is wedged against the door. We'd need a giant, strong, horse-man to be able to open it. If only we had someone matching that exact description with us right now.

Everyone turns to Hodor.

Hodor: Ah, salutations my dearest compatriots. For I was indeed quizzical with regard to when I, Hodor, would actually have some dialogue within this chapter. It is especially lamentable that it took this long for me to speak, as my interlocution skills are second-to-none!

Osha: Shut the fuck up and open the door.

Hodor: Right-o.

Hodor uses all his strength and eventually pushes the door open. They come out in the First Keep,  which is now a burnt ruin of waste and sadness.

Summer and Shaggydog are waiting there though. They've got that psychic connection with the Stark boys, so that's convenient. After a bunch of hugs and kisses and face-licking...

Jojen: We should, like, go, maaaan. Before OTHER wolves show up. You know, the less friendly kind. Or pigs! I hate the pigs! Always trying to take my weed.

Osha: I agree. With the "getting out of here" part. But let's find some food first since we were starving down there for the last few days.

They go scrambling around and find some spam, mixed nuts, a frozen pepperoni pizza, a half-eaten bag of sour gummy worms, buffalo chicken taquitos, a six pack of mountain dew, and a bunch of the Winterfell 7-Eleven's "Big Bite" hot dogs that have been rolling back and forth on that rolling heater thingie for way too long. 

Jojen: Good, that's enough food for me. I've got the munchies. Not sure what everyone else is going to eat though. *tokes*

Meera: This is for everyone, asshat! Come on!

And so they carefully sneak out of the ruins of Winterfell. Summer runs ahead, towards the godswood, and howls back at them. 

Summer: *HOWL* [Translation: This way, you slow ass mofos].

Bran looks around and sees the ruins of the home he grew up in. Destroyed buildings. Dead bodies. Lots of dead bodies. 

Bran: Oh, this is odd. This dead guy has the symbol of the Dreadfort on him. I wonder how HE got here.

Osha: Don't worry about it. They're dead bodies now, so how they got here doesn't matter. Just watch your step and don't trip over any of these--*OOOF*

Osha trips over a dead body. 

"Dead Body:" *oof*

Bran: AGHHH!!!! THE DEAD BODY SAID "OOF!"

Maester Luwin: I'm not dead yet, you dipshit, Bran.

Bran: LUWIN! Holy crap! You're still alive!

Luwin: *cough* Not for much longer.

Bran: Oh yeah, good point. Whenever someone coughs that means they are going to die. Everybody knows that.

Luwin lay there, mortally wounded from earlier. Barely able to move.  He smiles. 

Luwin: Bran and Rickon. I knew you two were alive! I just knew it! That Theon is such a lying shit.

Bran: You've got to come with us, Luwin!

Luwin: No. I'm not long for this world. And what you boys need to do is separate yourselves. If you're caught together... the north is doomed! Robb's heirs must be apart. And your chances are better if you split.

Bran: Yeah, good idea. Nobody really likes Rickon anyway.

Osha: I agree. We do need to split up.

Bran: DIBS ON GOING WITH MEERA!

Meera: Okay. If you insist. And I guess my brother comes with me too. And we need Hodor too. To carry you, Bran.

Osha: Wait... so that leaves ME with Rickon? Damnit. Well, I bet neither of us are ever going to be seen again. Where should we go?

Luwin: I don't know. The Ironmen are to the west. The Bastard of Bolton, Ramsay, to the east. War is in every direction. Winter... is... coming.

Bran: HEY! That's my dad's line. Stop that.

Luwin: And before I die, I ask one last favor of Osha.

Osha: *sigh*... Okay. *starts stripping* 

Luwin: No, no! Not that. Here, I need you to "fetch me some water." *wink*

Osha: The wink. I don't get it. So you DO want me to strip down?

Luwin: Send the boys away!

Osha: Right. So I'm assuming you want me on top, given your condition.

Luwin: No. I need to you kill me and put me out of my misery. But I don't want the boys to hear me say that.

Osha: Ah, right. Right. Bran, Rickon... pretend you didn't hear that. Go over there and wait for me. I'll be fetchin Luwin some delicious, quenching water.

Osha pulls out a large knife.

Bran: Why are you pulling out a knife then?

Osha: Uhh... this is a water knife!

Five minutes later... Osha rejoins the rest of the group, covered in blood. 

Osha: So, okay... check this out. So me, Rickon and Shaggydog will go east on the kingsroad. Hodor and the Reeds will stay with Bran. And you can go... you know... whatever way you want, so long as it's not also east. In fact, it's better that you don't tell me what way you're going at all so I don't know. Adios, bitches!


A Clash of Kings was published 20 years ago in 1998. Osha and Rickon have not appeared since then. 

Bran: Wait... before we leave. Should we check around and look in the trees to perhaps see if there is someone spying on us? Someone like, oh, I don't know... Theon's mute squire, Wex Pyke.

Everyone shakes their heads, "no," indicating that it is highly unlikely that Theon's mute squire, Wex Pyke, is an important enough character to pay attention to and/or watch out for. So they all head separate ways without even looking to see if Wex Pyke is hiding in a tree and watching them.

Wex Pyke: Hehehe, it's funny because I AM here, and I'm going to follow Osha and Rickon.

NO! STOP THAT, WEX PYKE! You're Mute and not allowed to talk! STOP!

Bran: Okay, so what way are we going then, Jojen? Perhaps down to Greywater Watch to visit your father, Howland Reed?

Jojen: No, Bran. We need to go NORTH! To the Three-Eyed Crow!

Bran: OH SHIT, EXCITING!!!!

~FIN~

ACoK 68: Jon VIII

Jon and Qhorin Halfhand are the last two left of Team Skirling Pass: Scouting Party.

Jon: Wait... is this another one of those starting in media res chapters? What happened to the other characters? I mean it was already strongly implied in my last chapter that Squire Dalbridge was performing a suicide mission. But what happened to Ebben? What happened to Stonesnake?

Qhorin: We sent Ebben ahead to see if he could reach the other rangers. And Stonesnake's horse broke a leg so he stayed behind to buy us more time. So he pretty much committed suicide just like Dalbridge.

Jon: Wow. Sad. Guess we better press on then.

Qhorin: Nope. Let's stop and make a fire.

Jon: Stop and make a fire? But then we'll be instantly spotted! We're doomed if we do that.

Qhorin: We're doomed anyway. Look above. That warg eagle has been following us the whole time. No way are we going to get out of its sights.

Jon: Well, that's depressing. So we're totally doomed, huh?

Qhorin: Probably. Although I have an idea.

Jon: Well, I'm a main character so not being doomed and dying makes sense. Go on and explain it to me.

Qhorin: No. Not directly, I mean. I'd rather be vague and cryptic and ask you if you remember your oath.

Jon: Of COURSE I remember my oath!

Qhorin: Recite it for me, boy.

Jon: This seems like space-filler for a short chapter, but okay. *ahem*...

Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. Like if I get stabbed and die but am somehow magically brought back to life then it's okay for me to leave because I technically died. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. But that doesn't mean that I can't have sex with Wildling girls. I just won't marry them or have kids with them. It's a technicality. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. Probably. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. Maybe metaphorically a sword or maybe more literally like the living personification of Lightbringer or something like that. But probably just metaphorically. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the sand in the hourglass, the spoon that stirs the honey in the hot tea, the man who put the Bomp in the Bomp Ba Bomp Ba Bomp and who put the Ram in the Ramma Lamma Ding Dong, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all nights to come. O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. Play ball.

Qhorin: Good, boy. Now if you are captured... you must yield!

Jon: What? Yield? NEVER!

Qhorin: No, you must. Because I have a new SUPER DUPER TOP SECRET MISSION for you.

Jon: Top Secret Mission? AWESOME! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!

Qhorin: Infiltration. You must pretend to abandon the Night's Watch and join the Wildlings. You will live among them. You will make friends with them. You will do as they say. You will act like a Wildling. But the whole time, you will secretly still be in the Night's Watch. Take note of their movement and plans. You will be a spy. When you've acquired all the information we need, you will then make your escape and report it all back to Lord Mormont.

Jon: What if they ask me to do a whole bunch of things that make me break my oath?

Qhorin: Then you must do them anyway. For that is the only way to truly be loyal and serve the Night's Watch now.

Jon: So wait... let me get this straight. You're telling me the only way to NOT break my oath is to break my oath?

Qhorin: Yeah, it's kind of like if you're an undercover agent in a cartel and they ask you to do drugs to prove you're not a cop. You sort of HAVE TO take the drugs if you want the mission to be successful.  Or if you're an undercover vice cop investigating a escort ring. You sort of HAVE TO sleep with at least 15-20 girls in order to collect enough evidence to get to the big pimps running the whole enterprise.

Jon: I'm pretty sure that's not how vice cops actually operate.

Qhorin: Whatever.

Jon: And how will I convince then that I'm truly a turncoat?

Qhorin: I've got an idea.

Jon: Well?

Qhorin: I'm not going to tell you.

Jon: WHY NOT?

Qhorin: For dramatic story purposes, the chapter is more compelling and surprising if I don't give it away.

Jon: Damnit.

And so they ride on. 

Jon: Ride on? I thought we were staying here by this fire!

Qhorin: No, that was a decoy. We're really going to a passageway hidden behind a waterfall, which leads through the heart of this mountain over here.

Jon: Oh.

And so they go to the passageway, and decide to rest for the night. There, Ghost meets up with them. 

Ghost: *woof* [Translation: Hey.]

After resting, they go through the tunnel and come out the other side. But on the other side they see...

Eagle: *squawk* [Translation: OH HAI THAR, IT'S ME!]

Jon: We've been spotted!

Qhorin: Well, there is nowhere to go now. We must make our final stand here. Jon, make sure Ghost is ready! *winks*

Jon: Ready for what? What are you talking about, Halfhand? And didn't you say that we were going to yield and play turn cloak?

Jon suddenly sees that they are surrounded by 14 Wildlings, including a leader whose entire suit of armor is covered in human bones. 

Qhorin: There he is, the Lord of Bones, AKA Rattleshirt. But don't call him Rattleshirt. He hates that and gets furiously angry with anyone who calls him that.

Jon: Okay, I won't call him that then. Especially if we're trying to convince him that we're on his side.

Qhorin: OH HEY THERE, RATTLESHIRT! You smell just like the tip of my dick after I fucked your mother in her ass!

Jon: DUDE! WHAT THE HELL?!

Lord O' Bones: Qhorin Fuckin' Halfhand? YOU?! AGH! DAMNIT! I HATE YOU! Oh... and here, we found your friend.

One of Rattleshirt's Wildling buddies pulls a head out of a bag and throws it at them. It's Ebben's head. 

Jon: Damn. So I guess it really is just us two, huh?

Lord O' Bones:  Two? It's about to be NONE! Archers!!!!! Kill them, NOW!

Qhorin winks at Jon and gives him a little elbow bump. 

Jon: Oh... right... now?  *AHEM*... I YIELD! I YIELD!

Qhorin: What? YOU YIELD? YOU COWARDLY LITTLE SHIT! HOW DARE YOU!

Jon: Huh?... but wait... you said...

Qhorin: WHY, I OUGHT TO KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND, JON SNOW! You've probably been plotting to abandon us and join the Wildlings this WHOLE TIME.

Jon: Oh wait, I get it now.

Lord O' Bones: Who cares? We don't need a craven to join our side! KILL THEM BOTH!

Wildling: No, stop!

The Wildling pulls off their furs...

Ygritte: -HEY! It's me!

Jon: Oh, heeeey guuurl.

Ygritte: *winks* He saved me, we should let him yield. Prove that he's loyal to us.

Lord O' Bones: What? Why? NO!

Eagle: *squawk* [Translation: Yeah, fuck Jon Snow! I hate him!]

Ygritte: That eagle doesn't like you that much.

Jon: Why? What did I ever do to him?

Ygritte: Remember one of those guys you killed up by Skirling Pass? Well, that was our warg guy. So he's dead, but part of him still lives on inside of the Eagle.

Jon: Cryptic. Although I guess if one day I temporarily die, only to be brought back later, then I know my soul could be resting inside of Ghost. Which gives him a purpose which actually matches his name.

Ygritte: Yes. That would be a good plot device. To use Ghost as the vessel for your soul, as we are explicitly setting up that plot device here by stating that you have warg powers to go into Ghost. And, as you also say, if your "ghost" is inside of "Ghost" then his name is extremely apt.

Qhorin: I agree. That sounds like a good way to handle any Jon Snow dying thing. You know what would be a shitty way to handle it? To just have Melissandre bring him back with some spell.

Jon: Indeed. That would be a terrible and emotionally unsatisfying way to bring me back. You know, if I were to die at some time in the future.

Lord O' Bones: Well, if you don't want to die RIGHT NOW, then you're going to have to prove that you're one of us. And I got an idea of how you can do that. KILL THE HALFHAND!

Jon: What? Kill my friend Qhorin? Why I could nev--

Qhorin: --SHUT UP, JON! You're not my friend! You're a yielding traitor! DIE, SCUM!!!

Qhorin charges at Jon and pretends to fight him. He's clearly only fighting at about 50% or something though.

Jon: *whispering* Damn, dude. This is pretty messed up. You're pretending to fight me so that they'll think that I'm on their side. How exactly is this fight supposed to end?

Qhorin: Oh, you know.

Jon: Damnit, Qhorin.

Ghost sees Jon and Qhorin fighting. Ghost is confused as hell because he though that Qhorin was Jon's buddy. But Jon and Ghost are linked all, like, spiritually and shit. So Ghost can't help but defend his buddy. 

Ghost jumps into the fight too and starts savagely tearing apart the flesh from Qhorin's legs.

Qhorin: AGHH!!!!!

Jon: I... I can't do this!

Qhorin: Just get it over with quickly, boy. For the Watch!

Jon: Damnit.

Jon stabs Qhorin. He dies.

Lord O' Bones: Hahaha, that was awesome to watch. Now let's kill Jon Snow anyway.

Ygritte: WHAT? NO! He just proved himself to us!

Lord O' Bones: Who cares? He's a warg and a crow. Let's gut him and I'll add his bones to my armor.

Ygritte: No!

She stands in the way. Some of the other Wildlings join her.

Lord O' Bones: *sigh* Damnit, okay. So the boy can live. FOR NOW. We'll take him back to Mance and HE CAN DECIDE.

Jon: Sweet. So we're going to Mance, huh? Does that mean we're turning around and going back to Skirling Pass?

Ygritte: Hahaha, no. Mance's army is way past Skirling Pass now. By now he's probably well down the Milkwater and marching on the Wall.

Jon: Marching on the Wall?! DUNN DUNN DUNNNNNNN!!!!!!!

And so they burn Qhorin's body like some sort of Jedi night. The Lord O' Bones grabs Qhorin's bones and adds them to his collection. And we all wait for this ominous "marching on the wall" cliffhanger to resolve itself. But not until the next book.

ACoK 67: Tyrion XV

Tyrion is dreaming of battle. The men who fought along him and died. The men he killed. Mandy Moore trying to kill him.  It sort of smells like poop and pee in this dream too. 

Tyrion: Oh no wait, that's because I'm laying in my own filth.

He wakes up. Then goes to sleep again. 

He dreams of Cersei, Tywin, Varys and Littlefinger standing over him.

Tyrion: Yeah, this MUST be a dream because Tywin and Littlefinger aren't even in King's Landing. Wait. No. Unless we won the battle. Did we win the battle?

He falls asleep again. When he wakes up, Podrick Payne is standing over him.

Pod: A thank you for saving your life would be cool.

Tyrion: What?

A maester walks up. 

Maester Ballabar: Rest! Rest! You must rest, Tyrion. You have a grave injury. Here. Some more milk of the poppy.

Tyrion slowly feels his face. It's covered entirely in plaster and bandages. His face is throbbing in pain. He takes the milk and passes out. 

He dreams of a great victory feast. Jaime is there and he knights him. Shae is there too. But then Shae turns into his first love, Tysha. We then have an extended dream sequence about how that whole Tysha thing went down. Long story short: poorly.

He wakes again.

Tyrion: What the hell? Where am I? Is this some sort of hospice care? This isn't the Tower of the Hand!

Pod: Well, you're not the Hand of the King anymore.

Tyrion: Huh?


Maester Ballabar: Looks like someone needs more milk of the poppy.

The Maester goes to put it on Tyrion's lips. But Tyrion knocks it out of the way. 

Tyrion: NO! Stop that! Stop giving me milk of the poppy! How long have I been asleep for?

Maester Ballabar: A bit.

Tyrion: Adn get this plaster off of my head! I want it removed at once.

Maester Ballabar: That doesn't sound like a good idea. Remember the last character in this book series to be annoyed by his plaster? He thought it was all itchy and so he ripped it off. That was Drogo. Remember what happened to Drogo?

Tyrion: I SAID TAKE IT OFF!

Maester Ballabar: *sigh* Okay, whatever. But you're not going to like what you see.

Ballabar begins to slowly remove the bandages. He washes Tyrion's face and cleans the wounds as he does so. 

Maester Ballabar: Oh wow, the wounds are actually pretty clean. No festering or infection. That's pretty miraculous. Maybe you won't die after all.

Tyrion: MIRROR! GIVE ME A MIRROR!

Maester Ballabar: I have a feeling that this is going to be a lot like that scene in the first Tim Burton Batman movie, when Jack Napier looks at his face in the mirror for the first time after falling into the acid.

Tyrion: No. It won't be like that at all.

Maester Ballabar: If you say so.

Tyrion grabs the mirror and looks. He has a giant gash across his face and he's missing most of his nose. 

Tyrion starts laughing maniacally and then smashes the mirror. 

Maester Ballabar: I TOLD YOU it would be just like Batman.

Tyrion: I bet Mandy Moore must have been paid by Cersei! She wanted to make sure I never returned from the battlefield alive!

Pod: Oh... are we still doing this "speculating Mandy Moore's motives" thing? Because, as previously noted, it's pretty fruitless since GRRM never actually provides a definitive answer.

Tyrion: Damnit. So what happened to Mandy?

Pod: Drowned.

Tyrion: Ah. And where am I again?

Maester Ballabar: A room in Maegor's Holdfast.

Tyrion: And why exactly am I not in the Hand's Tower?

Pod: Dude, I told you. You're not the Hand of the King anymore.

Maester Ballabar: It's true. Lord Tywin is the Hand of the King. He, Lord Tyrell and Littlefinger returned just in time to turn the tide of the battle. They saved the city!

Tyrion: Wow. Really? Those guys saved the city?

Maester Ballabar: Yes. And maybe also Renly's ghost.

Tyrion: Say what now? This is all messed up. I need to go back to sleep.

Maester Ballabar: More milk of the poppy then?

Tyrion: NO! STOP IT! No more damn milk of the poppy. Get out of here!

Maester Ballabar: Whatevs.

Maester Ballabar leaves. 

Tyrion: Pod, make me some dreamwine. I'd rather have wine than more damn opiates. And fetch Bronn.

Pod: It's actually "Ser Bronn" now.

Tyrion: Really? Holy shit I missed a lot. Oh, and also get me Maester Frenken. I don't trust this Maester. He's probably one of Cersei's men.

Pod: Cool beans.

ACoK 66: Theon VI

Ser Rodrick Cassel and his army has returned to Winterfell after his voyage south to defend Torrhen's Square and Castle Cerwyn. He stands outside the city walls, prepared to strike. 

Maester Luwin: Theon, I beg you to yield to Ser Rodrick.

Theon: What? Yield to that old man? Why?

Luwin: Because his forces vastly outnumber yours. You've lost, Theon. And there has been  no word from your father Balon or your uncle. Balon knows that the north will be won or lost by the defense of Moat Cailin. Winterfell means nothing to him.

Theon: Screw you! You want me dead, don't you? You want me to lose!

Luwin: I am bound to Winterfell and whoever rules it. I must serve whoever holds this place. And from the looks of things, Ser Rodrick is about to hold this place. If you do not yield, you can expect no mercy.

Theon: Shut up and get out of my face, old man.

After sending Luwin away, Theon broods. He only has 17 men left. 17! Man. And Cassel has a force of over a thousand men. 

Theon: Lorren, get the noose ready!

And so Theon goes out to parlay with Ser Rodrick's forces.

Rodrick spits on his feet.

Rodrick: Well look who it is. It's Mr. Shitty Traitor who betrays the people who raised him and murders children.

Theon: Traitor? I am iron-born, Rodrick! And I was not "raised" by you. I was your prisoner.

Rodrick: I demand you to surrender now. Your men's lives will be spared.

Theon: My men's life? What about my life too?

Rodrick: Not so much.

Theon: Ah, well that's a really bad red-line for a negotiation. You see, in a negotiation each party has to find some sort of compromise where they get a little bit of what they want. They have to find a common ground somewhere. I want to keep on living. Therefore, if any deal you offer to me includes me still dying... I really have no interest in accepting the deal.

Rodrick: Shut up. I'm a great negotiator. And I hold all the cards, so I get to issue the terms.

Theon: No, you're really not. And I think I'm the one who holds all the cards. LORREN!!!!!!

At the top of the castle, Lorren brings Beth Cassel, Ser Rodrick's daughter, up to the noose. 

Rodrick: You SONOFABITCH!

Theon: Yeah? See that there? That's called GOOD negotiation. That's called "holding the cards." So here are MY DEMANDS. You and your army turn around and leave by nightfall. If you do not, then your daughter hangs. It will be your fault.

Rodrick: Trade me for her! I'll go up and take her place.

Theon: Nope. She stays up there. And she dies at dusk if you don't back off. And I have a TON of hostages in Winterfell. I'll kill them off one by one. Beth dies first. Then, if you still aren't gone by dawn, another hostage will be hanged. Then the next dusk another dies. And so on. Two a day at every dusk and dawn.


Rodrick: I WILL KILL YOU!

Theon: No, you really won't.

Theon turns his horse and heads back into the castle.

Theon: Well, that was pretty bad-ass of me, but I bet it won't work. Ser Rodrick is the type of guy who will probably attack anyway and let his daughter die to keep his honor.

Luwin: Theon!

Theon: Oh shit. You again? I thought I told you to get lost.

Luwin: It's not too late to save yourself! Take up the Black!

Theon: What?

Luwin: The Night's Watch. Surrender and ask that Ser Rodrick let you take the Black. You'll be able to live the rest of your life serving on the Wall.

Theon: Hrmmmmm. Jon Snow is up there. And while I'm kind of a rival with him, it's not a TERRIBLE idea. It sounds better than dying. Let me think about that for a--

Kromm: --THEON! THEON! Hundreds more troops have arrived! They wave the flag of a bloody, flayed man.

Theon: What?! The Boltons? Huh? How did this happen? When? They were supposed to be down South by Harrenhal. Are they attacking?

Kromm: Yes... they're attacking. But they're attacking SER RODRICK!

Theon: WHAAAAAT?

Kromm: Yeah, they're slaughtering Ser Rodrick's Army.

Theon: That doesn't make any... wait a minute... that Reek guy! He served that Bolton bastard, didn't he? I figured he just ran out on me with no intention to come back. Let me see!

Theon goes up to the wall of Winterfell and watches. He sees the men with the Bolton flags attack the panicking forces of Ser Rodrick Cassel.  Although Rodrick's army was larger, it was prepared for a siege of a castle... not for an attack from behind. And they were certainly not prepared to be attacked by people waving the flag of House Bolton, their supposed allies. 

In the end, they stand no chance and are totally destroyed.  A leader of the Bolton forces, wearing a red helm, rides to to the caste gate and throws down three bodies: 

Ser Rodrik (RIP!!!!!), Leobald Tallhart and Cley Cerwyn (nobody cares about these two).

Theon: OH SNAP! You killed Ser Rodrick Cassel? That's insane! I was just talking to him. I figured he'd get better than an off-screen killing.

Red-Helmed Knight: Open the gates!

Theon: Yeah, sure. You just helped us, so that seems like a good idea.

Theon orders the gates opened and heads down from the wall to meet his rescuers.  The man with the red helm takes the helm off. 

Theon: WOW! Reek, it's you!

Ramsay Snow: HAHAHAHA, No. Reek was the name of my pet. He died dressed up in my clothes. And I took his identity. I am Ramsay Snow, son of Lord Roose Bolton.

Theon: CRAZY! Well, a promise is a promise and you delivered. You wanted to have sex with that Palla girl from the kennel, right?  I'll have her summoned at once.

Ramsay: DUDE, YOU ARE FUCKING STUPID. That was all METHOD ACTING, man. METHOD ACTING. I don't want Palla. That was just my "Reek" character who wanted her. I could really go for the hottest chick left in town, which is probably that hooker Kyra that you keep in your bedchamber.

Theon: What? NO! Kyra is MY GIRL! You're crazy.

Ramsay: Really? How's this for crazy?

Ramsay backhands Theon with his STEEL GAUNTLET and busts Theon's jawbone open. Theon falls to the ground in agony, bleeding from the mouth. 

Ramsay: Men, begin the slaughter. But save me the Frey boys. I will need them. Anyone else is fair game.

Luwin: What about m--

Snow's men stab Maester Luwin and he falls to the ground.

Ramsay: As for Winterfell... burn it. BURN IT ALL.

Theon begins to slide into unconsciousness.  The last thing he sees before blacking out is the sight of his horse, Smiler, jumping around and screaming on fire

Theon: Ugh... "Horses on Fire"... band name?

Ramsay: Already taken. Ghent-based hard rock band. But they broke up in 2016.

ACoK 65: Sansa VIII

Well, it looks like Stannis Baratheon got his ass kicked, and now the Royal Family in Kings Landing is holding a giant-ass procession to celebrate their victory.  Everyone is dressed to the nines, wearing their finest for the shindig. 

Joffrey: And now... the heroes of the battle!

Lord Tywin Lannister rides in first. He looks regal AF.  This dude has amazing armor, and even his horse is decked out. He is the definition of suave, sophistication. 

Tywin's Horse: *takes shit right on the bottom of the Iron Throne*

Joffrey: Eww.

Tywin dismounts. 

Tywin: Shut the hell up, grandson.

Joffrey: Anyway, I declare you SAVIOR OF THE CITY and officially make you HAND OF THE KING, as you technically were previously. Shitty Uncle Dwarfy was really only "Acting" Hand of the King.

Tywin: Yes, I am awesome.

He puts on the Hand of the King brooch.  Men wearing brooches is totally normal in this world. Brooches aren't only for your weird aunt and they don't have to have cats on them.

Joffrey: Next, I celebrate Lord Mace Tyrell of Highgarden, and offer him a place on the Council.

Mace Tyrell: Actually, I like to be known as "Ma$e Tyrell."

Tywin: No, that is not happening.

Mace: Well, I tried.

Joffrey: And to your son, the Knight of Flowers Loras Tyrell, for his courage in battle I award him a place in the Kingsguard!

Everyone cheers. They love Loras. Except for one woman in the audience who doesn't cheer.  Not because she doesn't love Loras. But because she likes him a little TOO much.

Woman: Booo! Are you sure you want to do this, Loras? If you join the Kingsguard, that means you can lay with no woman again.

Loras: Hahaha, yeah. I'll be okay with that. *winks at the guy next to her* 

Guy Next to Woman: *winks back*

Garlan Tyrell, Loras's Older Brother: King Joffrey, you do us much honor with these awards. But I ask of you one more honor. Is it not inappropriate for a royal King such as yourself to marry a traitor's daughter! Perhaps you should marry my sister, Margaery, instead. She is still, of course, a virgin and never laid with Renly.

Loras: Hahaha, I know that's true.

Mace: SHHHH!

Sansa should be offended by being called "a traitor's daughter," but she's not. This whole thing has been scripted before hand. And Sansa is happy about it. She knows what stage acting is coming...


Joffrey: Whaaaat? Marry Margaery? No! I could never! I love my beloved Sansa so much!

Everyone in the court tries to hold in their giggling because Joffrey is a terrible actor. 

Joffrey: I swore holy vows to love and marry Sansa. I could never break those.

On queue, the High Septon steps up to deliver his line in the script. 

High Septon: I swore holy vows to love and marry her. I could never--

Tywin: --No, you fucking idiot. You're reading the wrong line. That's Joffrey's line. He just read it. Read the next one!

High Septon: Oh. Right. Right. *ahem*... King Joffrey, when your father, the late King Robert, entered into this marriage alliance, he had no idea that the Starks were traitors and meant to deceive him. In the eyes of the seven gods, there is no shame in putting aside this marriage alliance based on falsehoods. I declare that your marriage alliance to Sansa Stark is null.

Joffrey: What? Really? Oh, that's... so... terrible! Wow! What a shocking development. You know what, Garlan? I think I will marry your sister Margaery. They say the tales of her beauty are known across the Kingdoms!

Crowd: HORRAY!

Sansa, publicly: Oh shucks!

Sansa on the Inside: HORRAY!

Sansa doesn't feel bad at all. She no longer has to marry Joffrey. They can call her father a traitor all they want. If that means she's free of Joffrey... she's happy! 

And so the ceremony goes on. There were lots of awards given out from the Battle of the Blackwater. All in all, over 600 knighthoods and awards are granted throughout the day. Including gems like these: 

Joffrey: Oh, I guess we're giving Uncle Dwarfy an award too? He's not here to accept it though, on account of him laying dying with a massive wound to the face. And another award... to Petyr Baelish! What with him securing an alliance with the Tyrells to come and join our side in the war. Lord Baelish, for your help... I award you the Castle of Harrenhal and name you Lord Paramount of the Trident!

Littlefinger, fresh back from being missing for a good chunk of chapters, walks up to Joffrey's chair with a shit-eating grin. 

Sansa: Whatever. What kind of a bullshit award is that? They gave him Harrenhal? First of all, it's haunted. Second, it's not even Joffrey's to give. My brother Robb and his allies holds Harrenhal!

After the awards for those Lannister-allied men who bravely fought comes the next part... the punishment for the people who fought for the other side and were captured.

Joffrey: Okay, any of you Stannis people who would like to flip sides can do so now.

A bunch of people flip sides. You know, because that makes sense.

Joffrey: Great. You're all PARDONED! Welcome to team #winning.  And for the rest of you that DIDN'T SWITCH sides... and I'm lookig at YOU, ser!

Some Guy: Who, me?

Joffrey: Yeah, you.

Some Guy: Ah, well. I'm not flipping to your side because you're a punk-ass bitch.

Joffrey: Ah, I see. I see. Guards, take him out and execute him.

He's taken out into the hallway and executed. 

Joffrey: Anyone else? How about you?

Crazy-Looking Guy: I WILL NEVER SUBMIT TO YOU, INCEST CHILD!

Joffrey: Dafuq you just say? You know I'm the KING, right? And you're in MY throne room, surrounded by all my subjects.

Crazy-Looking Guy: You are a child born of sick incest! You are no true king. Your whore mother had sex with her brother to make your foul flesh! The Lord of Light will never allow you to be king. STANNIS FOREVER! PRAISE THE RED GOD!

Joffrey jumps up and starts pounding on the side of the throne. 

Joffrey: EXECUTE HIM! EXECUTE HIM NOW!!!!!

But what Joffrey, being a complete dumb-ass, forgot was that the Iron Throne is MADE OUT OF RAZOR-SHARP SWORDS. And therefore pounding on it is stupid. He slices his hand and arm open and starts bleeding. 

Joffrey: Owie! Owie! OWIE! MOMMY, MY BOO BOO HURTS!

Cersei runs in to coddle him. 

Crazy-Looking Guy: LOOK! EVEN THE THRONE DENIES HIM! THE THRONE REJECTS HIM! SEE? EVERYONE, SEE?

Joffrey: KILL HIM!!!!!!!!!!

Meryn Trant steps up and executes the guy right in front of the entire crowd. Blood splatters on the front three rows of the crowd like they are at SeaWorld or some shit.

Crowd: HOLY SHIT. We were not ready to see all of that.

They drag his dead body out, leaving a trail of blood. Cersei takes Joffrey out of the room too. Lord Tywin then causally walks up to the Iron Throne and sits down. 

Tywin: Okay, I guess I'm in charge now. Let's continue this shit-show.

And so the ceremonies continue for hours and hours. Finally, after it's all over, Sansa is free. After a short time back in her room, she goes to visit the godswoods. 

Sansa: OH, hey Dontos! I am so excited! This is awesome! I'm finally free of Joffrey!

Dontos: What... you really think that?

Sansa: YEAH! I mean I don't have to marry him any more. THIS IS THE BEST!

Dontos: Okay, uhm... I know I'm an alcoholic jester, so taking advice from me isn't generally recommended. But how do you not see that this makes things WORSE for you now?

Sansa: What? What the hell are you talking about?

Dontos: Joffrey treated you like shit when you were supposed to be be married to him. And now you're not supposed to be. You think he'll treat you BETTER now? Doubt it. If anything he'll be meaner and crueler to you.

Sansa: But... I... uhh...

Dontos: And what do you mean you're "free?" You think Cersei is going to let you go? No! You're still a prisoner. You're still stuck here. And now you're no longer going to be a Queen. You're just a hostage and Joffrey's play thing. At least if you were his Queen, he could only beat you so hard so that everyone didn't see all the bruises on the queen. Now you're just "that traitor Stark girl" and he can have his Kingsguard beat the shit out of you even harder and nobody will care. And do you think not being married to him will mean you don't have to have sex with him? Nope! He's the king. If he wants to rape you... he can still rape you.

Sansa: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!

Dontos: There, there, my sweet Jonquil. Your Florian is still here to protect you. I will break you free from here on Joffrey's wedding night, I promise.

Sansa: What? But that's more than a month away!

Dontos: Oh wow. Is it only a month in the books? Holy shit, it's like two damn seasons on the TV show. I can't believe the 1000+ pages of A Storm of Swords only takes place over the course of a single month. BUT ANYWAY... until then you must be brave for me! Here, I have a gift for you.

Dontos pulls out a hair net. 

Sansa: A hair net? Do I have to work in a school cafeteria or something?

Dontos: No! This is a beautiful hair net made with silver and rare black amethysts from Asshai.

Sansa: Oh cool. Dark purple crystals.

Dontos: Yes.

Sansa: Hrm. Dark purple crystals. That seems so familiar. Didn't we talk about those earlier in this book?

Dontos: I wouldn't know.

Sansa: It's almost like now that this book is about to end, certain concepts that were introduced at the beginning are now being followed up on.

Dontos: I guess. I'm just glad we're not talking about that goddamn comet anymore. I'm really more concerned with drinking a lot than any of that plot stuff. The person who gave the hair net to me says that it's magical.

Sansa: Cool. Magical how?

Dontos: It represents revenge and stuff. For your father.

Sansa: And who gave it to you again? Because you said your friend who was going to help free me was out of town.

Dontos: Well, he's back now.

Sansa: Hrm. What guy who was recently out of town for a while is now back?

Dontos: Just stop, Sansa. Stop.

ACoK 64: Arya X

So now that Harrenhal has been captured by Roose Bolton, Arya has a new master.

Arya: Geez, look at all those heads up on the wall of the Lannsiter men that Roose executed. I wish one of those heads was Joffrey. That would be so sweet.

One of the dead is the old Maester who used to feed the ravens. She watches as birds peck out his eyes and eat them. 

Arya: I wonder if the birds remember that he was the guy that used to feed him as they peck at his dead body. Are they totally cool with that? Do they feel a little bad? Do they miss him. Man, my thoughts are so metal. 

In addition to the heads of executed men, there are also the women of Harrenhal that Roose decided were Lannister loyalists. They weren't executed - they were put in a pillory, naked and out in public and "for the use of any man who wishes." Pia is one of them. Remember Pia? No?

Arya: Oh, so these girls are chained up in public to be frequently raped? That's... uhm... pretty terrible. But not even close the most terrible thing I've seen in my young life.

Gendry: Oh hey Arya, admiring your work?

Arya: My work? What the hell are you talking about?

Gendry: You did this. All these people are dead because of you. My old boss who ran the forge, Lucan, is dead because they said he made armor and weapons for the Lannisters. These women are being raped because they served the Lannisters. And all thanks to you!

Arya: Me? No! It was the Bloody Mummers!

Gendry: Yes, the Bloddy Mummers who YOU got to flip on the Lannisters. Well, now we have NEW masters and they seem even worse than the old ones.

Arya: What? Really? But they're on Team Stark!

Gendry: Are they?

Arya: I mean... uhh...

Arya thinks about it. Roose Bolton is SUPPOSED to be a loyal bannerman to the Starks. But something about him freaks her out. She should tell Roose her real identity - that she's Arya Stark, the sister of his king, Robb. But she doesn't.  And she can't really argue with Gendry either. He's right. All she can say is...

Arya: Hey, can you take your shirt off?

Gendry: WHAT? No. Stop being weird, Arya.

Gendry leaves.

Arya: Ugh. I wish I had left with Jaqen when he invited me. I should have. Now I'm stuck here. Lame.

So Arya goes back to work. The first task includes fetching some water for Roose. She shows up to the room with the water, and sees that Roose Bolton is talking battle strategy with his men while simultaneously having his blood leeched.

Aenys Frey: Lord Tywin could return at any moment! We must ready or defenses!

Roose Bolton: Calm down now, Anus Frey.

Aenys: "Ah-Knees!" It's pronounced AH-KNEES!

Roose: Lord Tywin is far away and poses no threat to us.

Harys Haigh: I don't see how the boy Robb can possibly win. Him? Defeat Tywin Lannister? Back when he was a knight, King Robert was the finest fighter there was. And even he couldn't beat Tywin in battle.

Roose: Robb Stark has beaten Tywin's forces in every battle they have had so far.

Hosteen Frey: Yeah, but he never faced Tywin himself. And Robb can't even defend the North. He  can't even defend Winterfell! It's fallen and his own two brothers are dead.

Arya: SAY WHAT NOW?

Everyone turns and looks at Arya.

Arya: Uhh...sorry. I have Tourette syndrome. Don't mind me. I'm just the cup bearer girl, Nan.

And so the "important men" go back to discussing their war business. Arya knows they must be lying though. Winterfell fallen? Rickon and Bran dead? NO WAY! It must be some sort of Lannister lie.

Hosteen: Robb needs to just go ahead and bend the knee to King Joffrey. What could will fighting do now? It won't bring his father or brothers back.

Roose: Oh well then, why don't you just ride back to King Robb and tell him that yourself then.

Hosteen: *gulp*

Roose: Okay, I'm done with you all. DISMISSED!

Bolton orders his doctor to start pulling the leeches off and the meeting ends.

Roose: Qyburn, come here.

OH SNAP! IT'S QYBURN EVERYONE! QYBURN! THIS IS WHERE THEY INTRODUCE QYBURN! I TOTALLY FORGOT THAT HE CAME FROM HERE!!!!! HE'S THE LEECH GUY!

Qyburn: Yes, Lord Bolton.

Arya: That dude is super skezzy. Even skeezier than Bolton. They say he dabbles in the black arts and stuff.

Qyburn: Oh, and Lord Bolton... I also got a letter from your wife. She says she loves you very much and she can't wait until you get back home so that you can put a baby in her.

Roose: Really? Cool? Let me see that.

Qyburn hands him the letter.

Bolton balls it up and throws it in the fire.

Roose: Send my orders to Ser Helman Tallhart and tell him to burn Darry castle and to execute the prisoners. Then he is to head east and strike Duskendale.

Arya: Oh wow... Castle Darry? That's where I was at when Joffrey lied about me attacking him, tried to have my wolf Nymeria killed before I let her escape, made my dad kill Sansa's wolf Lady, and where the Hound brutally murdered by best friend, the butcher's boy Mycah. I hate that place. I'm glad it's going to be burned down and everyone inside of it executed. Hell yeah!

Qyburn: Also, there are a lot of wolves running around this area. Really, really bold ones. They probably have some sort of insane, giant, female Direwolf leader. They're attacking our men's camps in the woods.

Arya: Yep, that checks out! Good ol' Nymeria!

Roose: Fine, I'll lead a hunting party out to kill all the wolves then.

Arya: Wait... what now?

Bolton then leaves.

Arya takes the time alone to think about her brothers. Can they really be dead? She goes to cleaning Bolton's room and, as she does, she finds a map. And a knife.

Arya: Cool. I like maps. And knives.

She then goes out to the godswood and practices sword fighting against the trees.

Arya: Valar morghulis, you stupid tree!

Weirwood: Hey! What did we ever do to you, Arya?

Bolton and his wolf-hunting party return that evening, after a very successful culling of the wolves in the area.

Roose: All that wolf killing is exhausting. And it's too bad we couldn't catch the leader of the wolves.

Arya: Damn right you didn't, m'Lord.

Roose: Now make me dinner, Nan.

Arya: Okay, cool. Hey... and quick question for you... will you take me when you leave Harrenhal?

Roose: WHAT? HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME, GIRL! You serve me and do nothing else. And no, I won't take you with me. You'll stay here and serve Lord Vargo. Now like I said... give me dinner! I'll cut out your tongue if you question me again.

After making his dinner, she goes out to the godswood again. In the distance she hears wolves howl. Probably sad about their dead wolf friends.

Arya: The Lone Wolf Dies... but the Pack Survives! That's what dad always used to say! I'm not a meek little serving girl. I'm Arya Stark of Winterfell! I have the blood of the wolf in me. I don't want to stay here and get murdered by Vargo Hoat. I want to get out of here and kick ass! And so it shall be... Operation Kick-Ass to commence... NOW!

The first step of "Operation Kick-Ass" involves Arya creeping into Gendry's bedroom at night to see if he's naked. She lingers over his body for 30 minutes, smelling him.

He wakes up.

Gendry: AGHHH!!!! ARYA, YOU FUCKING CREEPER! STOP!

Arya: Oh hey. Get Hot Pie. We're escaping.

Gendry: What? No we aren't.

Arya: Yeah, we are. Get me some weapons and shit. We're getting out of here. Let's meet up at the gate by the Tower of the Ghosts in 30 minutes.

Gendry: No.

Arya: I heard Lord Bolton say he's leaving. He's going to turn the castle over to Vargo Hoat when he's gone.

Gendry: So?

Arya: I heard Vargo Hoat say that he's going to cut the left foot off of all of his servants when Bolton leaves. So that they can't escape him.

Gendry: That sounds like something you just made up.

Arya: Nope. Totally true. So meet me in 30 minutes... or enjoy waddling around like a fat-ass Manderly for the rest of your life.

She leaves and goes back to Lord Bolton's chamber. There she steals the map and the knife. She then goes to wait for her friends to meet up with her by the Tower of Ghosts. And she waits. And she waits.

She's beginning to think maybe they won't show, when...

[Heavy, labored breathing]

Arya: Well, that must be Hot Pie's lard butt.

Hot Pie: SHUT UP!

Arya: Shhh! We're being stealthy here!

Gendry: Ugh. I can't believe we're doing this. This is such a terrible idea. Look, there is a guard at the gate over there. We'll never be able to steal three horses and escape with that guard. 

Arya: Don't worry about it. I have a plan to distract the guard. Just watch.

Arya goes up to the guard.

Arya: Your shoes are untied.

Guard: Oh, thanks.

As the guard bends down and sees that his shoes aren't untied at all, Arya whips out the knife she stole from Roose Bolton and slices his neck open. With his vocal cords split and blood spewing out everywhere, he can't scream for help. He falls to the ground, and blood pools out from his neck. Splatters of blood are all over Arya's face.

Hot Pie: HOLY FUCKING SHIT, ARYA! YOU SAID YOU WERE GOING TO "DISTRACT" HIM.

Arya: This is a pretty good distraction. Now he'll never notice us leave.

Arya tastes the man's blood on his lips. It tastes GOOD. It begins to rain.

Arya: This rain will wash me clean. Not that I want to be. Now let's get out of here.

A pair of "Deal With It" sunglasses drift slowly down and land on Arya's eyes. She mounts her horse and rides out, looking at her map. Gendry and Hot Pie shrug and follow.