AFfC 27: Jaime III

In Media Res.

Jaime: WHAT THE FUCK, CERSEI?! SAY THAT AGAIN!

Cersei: You’re being kicked out of King’s Landing. Goodbye. By order of King Tommen.

Jaime: King Tommen? What bullshit. We all know you dropped that little boy when he was a toddler and he don’t think right. Anything that is “King Tommen’s order” is really YOUR order.

Cersei: Whatevs. The order stands. You are to go to the Riverlands.

Jaime: I am the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Let me break that down for you in a chart. Now excuse me, because this might get a bit complicated.

He pulls out a chart that says “Kingsguard.”

Jaime: You see… the “King” part here refers to the king, which means Tommen.  The “guard” part means “guard,” and is “guard.” Together, it means “guard the king.” Hrmm. You know what? I guess I didn’t need a chart after all. It’s not complicated. My job is to guard the king. The king is in King’s Landing. He is not in the Riverlands.

Cersei: Tommen will be safe when those Tullys are defeated in Riverrun, when you investigate these rumors about the Hound going rogue in the countryside, and when Harrenhal is restored to proper power under the Lannisters to guard us from those filthy northerners and river folk.  While you are away, Ser Osmund Kettleblack will command the Kingsguard.

Jaime: HOLY SHIT! Osmund?!

Cersei: Yeah.

Jaime: If ANYONE should command while I am away, it should be Ser Loras.

Cersei: HAHAHAH. LORAS. OH MY. That’s priceless. So… so… priceless. You’re hilarious. You’re funnier than Richard Pyror.

Jaime: So, Osmund, huh? I guess you’re fucking him too then. I guess Tyrion is right about you fucking everyone from him to Moon Boy.

Cersei slaps Jaime in the face.

Cersei: Bye, Felicia.

She presses a button and a trap door opens. Jaime goes down a slide out of the Red Keep.

Jaime: Well, that was an unexpected twist.

Jaime then heads out of the city with little fanfare or crowds.  The famous and legendary “kingslayer” is now basically a forgotten, crippled nobody.

Jaime: Fuuuuuck.  Well, I wonder where I should go now. Maybe I should go to Dorne, and team up with a buddy comedy with Bronn to rescue Myrcella and investigate a ruined, shit version of the Sand Snakes.

All of Fandom, Collectively: NOOOOO!!!!!!!

Jaime: Okay, maybe I’ll just obey Cersei’s orders and head to the Riverlands.

All of Fandom, Collectively: *whew*

Jaime: But if I’m not hanging out with Bronn, who should I go with?

Ser Addam Marbrand: How about me?

Ser Ilyn Payne: …

Jaime: Okay, Marbrand wants to come with me. That’s cool. How about you, Payne?

Ilyn: …

Jaime: What was that? Do you want to come or not?

Ilyn: …

Jaime: Hahahaha, it’s hilarious because you’ve tongue has been cut off and you can’t talk. Mad King Aerys II did it because he heard you talking about how my dad Tywin was the REAL power behind the throne. Sure. I guess you can come with me, dude. After all, you did kill Ned Stark. So I guess you’re sort of an important character. More important than Marbrand at least!

Addam: HEY!

Jaime: Hey dude, I haven’t even mentioned you since I talked about you in ASoS 72, when  I said you were helping me train at swordfighting with my left hand.  And you haven’t even been given dialogue since AGoT 69.

Addam: Hahaha, 69!

Jaime: *sigh* See, that’s why you haven’t been given dialogue since book one. Come on, let’s go.

They leave town. Kennos, Dermot, Strongboar, and Red Ronnet come with them. Don’t worry about any of them. Except for Red Ronnet. You need to remember him, because his Brienne backstory and for the fact that Jaime will eventually punch him in the face. Remember?

That evening they make it all the way to the House of the Heyfords. Who are they? It doesn’t matter. Jaime does some secret sword practice with Ser Ilyn that night and they move on the next day.

Jaime: And that’s NOT a euphemism, either. I practice fighting with him. That’s it. Don’t get it twisted.

Lord Heyford: Hey! What do you mean we don’t matter! You’re cutting out a very riveting conversation about the disappearance of Jaime’s cousin, Tyrek Lannister who went missing during the riots.

Jaime: Nobody cares about Tyrek. Varys probably had him killed. Moving on.

Next they arrive at Sow’s Horn.

Jaime: What is Sow’s Horn?

Ser Roger Hogg: Hi, I’m Ser Roger Hogg, and I am the Knight of Sow’s Horn. So glad to see you. Hey! Fun fact. The buildings here in Sow’s Horn are made of clay, wood and brick and have been attacked three times. The ones made of clay and wood were destroyed when Lions and Wolves attacked. But when Ser Amory Lorch attacked our buildings made of stone, they stood tall!

Jaime: WHAT THE HELL?! Did George Fucking RR Martin just put a three little pigs joke in this book?

Hogg: Huh?

Jaime: Your name is Hogg. You are the knight of Sow’s Horn, a “sow” being an adult, female pig. And you had three structures made of three varying types of materials, the first two of which were “blown down,” if you will, including by forces of “Wolves,” and the third material of stone stood.

Hogg: Oh. I guess this is a needless three little pigs joke, stuffed into a chapter for no reason.

Jaime: *rolls eyes* 

And so Jaime continues on again. This time to Harrenhal.

Shitmouth: Hey you cock sucking motherfucker, what the fuck is happening you cunt ass bitch?

Jaime: Oh, I am SO GLAD to be back here at Harrenhal again. *rolls eyes* Who on earth are you?

Raff the Sweetling: Oh, you’ll just have to excuse Ol’ Shitmouth.

Jaime: Well I can tell he’s a shit mouth.

Raff: No. That’s his actual name. “Shitmouth”

Jaime: Well Raff, this is just a chapter where the audience is going to catch up with a bunch of characters who haven’t been mentioned forever. Addam Marbrand. Red Ronnet. And you? Well, you get mentioned on Arya’s list a lot for killing Lommy. But you haven’t been seen featured ACoK 26. https://ajingleoficeandfire.blogspot.com/2018/02/acok-26-arya-vi.html

Raff: How can I help you, Kingslayer?

Jaime: Don’t act like we’re friends or anything now. All you shitheads fucked with me here when you were loyal to Vargo Hoat.

Raff: Hoat? Fuck that dude! He’s dead now. Want to see his head? Here, check it out!

He pulls out Hoat’s rotting, eyeless, decapitated head.

Jaime: AGH!!!! FUCKING GROSS! Dude, but that way. It’s like crows had supper upon his eyes.

Raff: Yeah, right? You might even say it was a FEAST FOR CR—

Jaime pulls out his sword with his left hand.

Jaime: —STOP! NO! DON’T FUCKING SAY IT, RAFF! DON’T FUCKING SAY IT AND MAKE PEE-WEE HERMAN COME ON. I will fucking kill you and do Arya’s work for her. Speaking of which… you know who I bet I’d get along with really well? Arya. We’re, like, probably a really compatible duo, personality-wise. I kind of like the tomboyish girls anyway, but I don’t mean in a nasty sexual way with her. Too young. I just mean I bet we would surprisingly get along if we hung out, just like I surprisingly get along with Brienne. We’re both soulless sociopaths who have existential crises related to us not knowing how to really do anything other than kill.

Addam: Well, she probably wouldn’t get along with you because you threw her brother out of a window.

Jaime: SHUT YOUR MOUTH, Addam! See? See? Another reasons why you go three books without getting any lines in this blog.

Shitmouth: FUCK ME IN THE ARSHOLE WITH A FUCKING RUSTY SPEAR!

Jaime: Ugh. I hate you all. So, Raff, this is Hoat’s head. Where is the rest of him?

Raff: Oh, the Mountain ordered his body to be cut up and fed to the prisoners when he took over. Why waste good meat?

Jaime: *vomits* JESUS CHRIST, RAFF.

Raff: Yeah, in hindsight it seems sort of fucked up.

Jaime: Speaking of fucking Clegane… have you heard any of these rumors about his brother roaming the countryside?

Raff: Oh yeah. The Hound! He’s totally out here. I used to have these friends named Polliver and the Tickler. We used to have a ton of fun torturing and murdering people. Really slowly. Ah, those were good days. Ah, anyway. The Hound and some little boy murdered them at an Inn.

Jaime: Boy?

Raff: Yeah. Boy. That’s the story.

Jaime: Could it have been a girl with short hair?

Raff: Who gives a fuck?

Jaime: Good point. Anyway… you’ve been feeding your prisoners human bodies and doing all sorts of other terrible shit. Prisoners like Ser Wylis Manderly. It won’t happen anymore. I am declaring that Ser Bonifer Hasty now in charge of Harrenhal and the prisoners are to be released. NOW!!!!

The prisoners are brought out. They include Ser Wylis and Pia.

Jaime: Oh! Hey! Pia! You’re the hooker that Qyburn sent up to my room. I remember you! But hey! You look toothless and beaten now. Why are you toothless?

Pia: Oh, I used to be a really pretty servant for Lord Whent and then later your father, when he controlled Harrenhal. But when Roose Bolton took over, he put all the girls who slept with Lannister men in stockades and had them repeatedly raped. So yeah, that happened to me. But that’s not as bad as what happened after you left, Amory was killed, and the Hound took over. The Hound BEAT THE FUCKING SHIT OUT OF ME for no reason, breaking all of the teeth out of my jaw and pretty much otherwise abusing me. So yeah, I got thrown in prison after that. You want any hyperlinks to those past chapters?

Jaime: No thanks. You talk pretty well for someone with no teeth though.

Pia: The writer is too lazy to try to do a “lisp” or anything like that for me.  I’m just dropping some exposition update about my character.

Jaime: You’re tits are still nice. I figure I need to give you some compliment with how fucked up your life is otherwise.

Pia: Thanks!

Jaime: If you want some other good news, the Mountain was poisoned by a spear tip and died really, really, really slowly in agony. The person who was “treating” him made him suffer even more, and his screams were so loud they could be heard across the Red Keep. His decapitated head got boxed up and sent to Dorne. So I suppose he’s dead now. I mean… right? He’s dead?

Pia: That’s good news too, thanks.

Jaime: And you, Manderly! You’re a free man now.  I have these orders here, signed by the king. You’re to be returned to your father in White Harbor.

Wylis: Oh, yes! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!

He gets down on his knees and starts kissing his feet.

Jaime: Eww, gross.

Wylis: Oh, and by the way. Do you have any eel pies for me to eat?

Jaime: Ah fuck, you Manderlys and your eel pies. Gross. Also, another throw-back joke with a link to an old chapter. Why this entire chapter is just a fun ol’ trip down memory lane. We’re getting rally sentimental these days!

Wylis: I love eel pies.

Jaime: OKAY, LISTEN UP, ASS YOU ASSHOLES OF HARRENHAL. Ser Bonifer Hasty is now in charge. Those who wish to stay here with him can stay here with him. Those of you who don’t want to stay can come with me to Riverrun to, like, fight the Blackfish or whatever. You’ll have the night to think about it. I leave tomorrow.

That evening, Jaime has dinner with Bonifer.

Jaime: Ugh, another awkward dinner with the custodian of Harrenhal. You’re not going to talk about prunes like Roose Bolton, are you?  And no, I’m done linking to past posts. So I’m not going to link to that one.

Bonifer: Hey, I heard you offered to take some people to Riverrun with you.

Jaime: I did.

Bonifer: Good. Because this place is full of all these shitheads who used to follow the Mountain. No way are they staying. You’ll need to take them with you. And that whore, Pia. Fucking unclean whore.

Jaime: Okay, all the assholes like Raff I get. But why are you so angry at Pia?

Bonifer: Meh.

Jaime: Okay, I guess I need a washerwoman for my camp anyway. Someone’s gotta do laundry, huh? Might as well a woman. Right? Right? Right?

Bonifer: Meh.

Jaime: Well, you’re a riveting conversationalist, Bonifer. Anyway. I’ll be going. This whole Hound thing? That’s all on you now. Find him and kill him if you can. As for Beric Dondarrion? If you get him, I’d prefer if you keep him alive and send him to Kings Landing, if you can.

Bonifer: Keeping Beric Dondarrion alive hasn’t been a very big challenge so far in this book series.

That night, Jaime again goes to spar with Ser Ilyn by the bear pit. But instead of finding him, Red Ronnet is there.

Jaime: Oh. Red Ronnet. Hey there.

Red Ronnet: Hey, are the stories I heard true? About Ugly-Ass Fucking Piece of Shit Brienne of Tarth fighting a bear in this pit?

Jaime: …

Red Ronnet: Huh? Huh? I wanna know. You know, I was once engaged to her.

Jaime: No. It’s not true.

Red Ronnet: Oh yeah. I guess that story was too good to be true. Besides, I guess it wouldn’t have been a good fight anyway. The bear would have run in horror at that ugly face. HAHAHAH! Am I right? Am I right? Hahahaha! I bet the bear was less hairy that that ugly freak of nat—

*WHAM*

Jaime pimp slaps Red Ronnet in the fucking face with his metal hand.  Red Ronnet falls to the ground, his mouth bleeding.

Jaime: Holy shit, that was a really long set up.  I mean… A Clash of Kings Chapter 22 is when it was set up that you were a total asshole. We had to wait SO LONG for me to punch you in your stupid face. It’s almost anti-climatic.

AFfC 26: Samwell III

Sam, Gilly, Dalla’s screaming baby, and a very sick Maester Aemon are waiting in a freezing cold, overpriced, rented apartment in Braavos.  Their ship arrived here quite some time ago, diverted because of the storms, but they’ve basically been stuck with Aemon sick.

Sam: BRRR! So cold. When is Dareon going to return with the food and wine like he promised he would? AGHH!!!

Sam starts weeping, so now he’s the big, annoying crying bitch just like crying Gilly. But now that he had figured out that her baby has been swapped out – he can’t blame her.

Sam: I… I don’t want to ask Gilly herself. But is it true, Aemon? Is it true?

Aemon: *cough*cough* I’m only hald-concious and mostly delusional, Sam. Why are you asking me dumb shit like this? Oh, and of course it’s true.

Sam: When did Jon Snow’s heart turn to stone? How could he do something like baby swap?

Aemon: Uh… when you elected him Lord Commander and he had to start making decisions to save everyone. *hacks out lung*

Sam: Oh. Fair point.

Aemon: The Red Star! Oh, the red star in the sky! 

Sam: Shit. We're talking about the red fucking star again? Please let's not. That was TWO BOOKS AGO and we need to let that running joke go.

Aemon: Now come on, Egg. Let’s pull a park on our brother Aerion and tell him to drink some wildfire, because it will turn him into a dragon. Hehehe! It will be so funny.

Sam: Egg? What are you talking about? You’re going crazy and talking crazy talk. Egg? Or maybe you’re just alluding to a series of prequel stories, the Tales of Dunk and Egg, about your brother Aegon, who will wind up becoming King Aegon V, and Ser Duncan the Tall, who was already alluded to in the Brienne Chapters. Yes. Maybe.

Aemon: *cough*cough*perhaps, Sam! And perhaps A Jingle of Ice and Fire will even do comical versions of those stories.

Sam: Oh really? When?

Aemon: *cough*cough* I don’t know. Maybe after A Dance with Dragons, assuming that The Winds of Winter doesn’t come out before this blog catches up.

Sam: HAHAHAH! Oh man, that’s too rich.  This is January 13, 2019 and another chapter of this blog publishes every other day. It’s Chapter 26 out of 45 – so there are 19 chapters remaining after this one. Then for Dance there are 73 if you include the Prologue and Epilogue. That’s 92 chapters! That means it will be 184 days from now when this blog is out of material, excluding Dunk & Egg.  Do you really think The Winds of Winter will be out in 184 days?  Do you really think GRRM will release the book by July 16?

Aemon: *cough*COUGH*COUGH*COUGH*COUGH*

Sam: Okay, well I can see you’re not going to answer because you’re about to die. Which means I should go out and find what’s up with Dareon.

Aemon: No! We must go to the docks and find out more about that story Dareon heard about dragons.

Sam: Dareon heard that story in an alehouse, Maester Aemon. From drunk sailors. Not the most reliable people in the world. And what do you mean by “we?”

Aemon: I’ll… *cough*cough* go out with you.

Sam: Uh, no you won’t. Unless… unless… well… maybe there is a reason you should be alive. I spent the last of that money I had on a healer to help you out, and he said there was nothing we could do for you.  And yet you’re still here. Maybe it’s fate. Maybe fate brought us here to Braavos because of these dragons.  Yes. I’ll go out and investigate. But you’re not coming with me. You’ll die.

Aemon: Fair enough.

And so Sam leaves the inn to look for Dareon and hear more about this dragon story. Oh, and also to find that food and firewood and stuff that Dareon was opposed to get.

When Sam goes out, he’s immediately accosted by some random Braavos thugs.

Thug 1: Hey punk! Give me all your money!

Thug 2: Yeah! We are a people that has cultural differences from you, since you’re wearing a sword. While that might be normal while you’re from, in this culture it means you’re willing to get into a fight with any one who comes up and challenges you.

Sam: Well, no. I am a coward. So I won’t fight you.

Thug 1: Okay, I guess we’ll kill you then.

The thug pulls out a switchblade, because that’s what thugs do according to really bad 1980s movies.

Random Girl Selling Clams: HEY! You call that a knife? THIS IS A KNIFE!

A random girl, selling clams, runs up with a knife to the two thugs.

Random Thug 2: AGHH!!! A little girl with a knife! This girl looks rough! Let’s run!!!!

They run.

Sam: Oh my! Thank you for saving me, small child. It’s totally normal for a small child to save a grown man in a fight.  Please tell me your name.

Cat: I’m Arya Star. Oh no wait, I mean “No One.” I am no one. But if you want, you can call me “Cat of the Canals.”

Sam: Did you say STARK?

Cat: No. I said Cat. Want a clam?

Sam: I’m fat, so of course I do. Also, I’m Sam, a member of the Night’s Watch.

Cat: Oh, cool. I have a brother in the Night’s Wa… uhh… I mean… I don’t know anyone in the Night’s Watch. Because I’m Cat. An orphan girl from Kings Landing. My father used to be a bread-maker but he touched me touched me,  so I pulled a “Jaine’s Got a Gun” and killed him. Then for a while I used to sell crystal meth in Flea Bottom. That is until I got all mixed up with a heroin dealer named “Marc” with a "c" who wanted to—

Sam: —I do not care.

Cat: Damn. The Kind Old Man was right! People really don’t need THAT much back story about me.  Why is someone in the Night’s Watch here in Essos? Aren’t you supposed to be up at the Wall?

Sam: Oh, the Lord Commander sent me on a mission to become a Maester at Oldtown. But the ship we initially were on had to stop here because the storm, and then had to leave without us because this guy Aemon that I’m with was too sick to travel further.

Cat: Hrm. Maybe I should ask you the name of the Lord Commander.

Sam: Oh, It’s J—

Cat: —But I won’t, because I don’t really care. HAHA, BITCH! Now I got you back for cutting off my Kings Landing Meth story! So anyway, I did see another one of your brothers of the Night’s Watch earlier. Some total douchebag singer.

Sam: Yes. That’s Dareon. I’m looking for him.

Cat: He’s singing at the Happy Port, and he’s going to wed the Sailor’s Wife.

Sam: Huh? What Wed the Sailor’s Wife?! What does that mean?

Cat: Oh, it’s a convoluded term for prostitution here. You see, technically it’s sort of illegal. But if you marry a girl and have sex with her it’s obviously not prositition. But here in Braavos you can marry someone for just one night and be single the next day, if you pay enough.  So it’s like a giant loophole in the prostitution laws.

Sam: Well, it’s very interesting to learn about Braavos’s prostitution laws from a small girl selling clams.

Cat: Yes. By the way, this is the best single event in the books that the show left out. The show could have easily had Sam stop in Braavos for a night, just like in the books, and meet Arya. It would have been super easy. But they never did. Definite missed opportunity there.

And so Sam goes to the brothel to find Dareon. He’s there, obviously. With a whore, obviously.

Dareon: SAAAMMM!!! How’s it going man! Have you met my wife?

Sam: Dude, you were supposed to be getting food and shit for Aemon.

Dareon: FUCK THAT. Aemon is dead, and we all know it.

Sam: How can you be here breaking your vows?!

Dareon: Brekaing my vows? Oh come on. Those chasity vows don’t mean SHIT, even in Westeros. So do you think they matter in Essos? No fucking way. Besides, don’t act like you haven’t been fucking that wilding girl on the ship.

Sam: No, not in the books. But in the show I did.

Dareon: SEE?!

Sam: Come on! We’ve got to go! We’ve got to go learn about these dragons you heard about.

Dareon: You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Get the hell away from me. Get out of my life. I’m done with the Night’s Watch. I’m living here forever!

Dareon takes off his black cloak and throws it at Sam.

Sam: GGRRRR!!! TAKE THIS!

Sam throws a punch at Dareon, but it’s super weak sauce because Sam is sort of a bitch. OH WAIT. THAT’S NOT TRUE AT ALL!!!! Sam jumps on top of Dareon and begins to PUMMEL THE FUCK AT HIM.  This whole time, Sam, who has been too scared to fight, is apparently a mixed martial arts master.

Mike Tirico: OH MY, do you see this, Shaq? Sam is taking out Dareon just like Khabib Nurmagomedov took out Conor McGregor to defend the UFC Lightweight Championship!

Shaq: Something something Icy Hot.

Eventually, a bunch of staff at the brothel pull Sam off of Dareon and throw him out of the brothel and into a canal.

Sam: AGHH!!! AGHHHH! As apparently good as I am at fighting, I’m as bad at swimming!

Sam nearly drowns as he flails around, only to feel his hand grabbed. He’s pulled out and sees a large guy from the Summer Isles.

Sam: Oh, thank you random guy from the Summer Isles!

Random Guy: HEY! How do you know I’m from the Summer Isles? Is it because “from the Summer Isles” is a code work for BLACK? Are you racially profiling me?!

Sam: No! I mean.. I… no… it’s just that the narrator said you are from the Summer Isles!

Random Guy: Oh, did he now? DID HE? And how would you know what the narrator said? The narrator exists on a plan of existence above the characters and generally doesn’t interact with the characters!

Sam: Typically in stories, yes. But in this blog it’s a bit different. Also, I’m probably the narrator of the series, and I’m the one who writes “A Song of Ice and Fire” to tell the story of what happened. So that’s why.

Random Guy: HAHAHAHA, man I was just fucking with you anyway. I am from the Summer Isles. Pleased to meet you. My name is Xhondo.  BY the way, you owe me a lot of feathers for all the ones I got ruined, pulling you out of this canal.

Sam: Really, feathers? Are feathers super valuable?

Xhondo: Maybe.

Sam: So why did you pull me out?

Xhondo: Well, I saw everything that happened in that brothel. And I heard you talking to that shitty singer guy about the dragons.

Sam: Uh huh. Go on.

Xhondo: I know where you can find these dragons.

Sam: WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?

AFfC 25: Brienne V

Brienne and Pod are now with Ser Hyle Hunt as they return to Maidenpool.  Brienne isn’t particularly a big fan of this idea, what with the mutual hatred she shares with Lord Randyll “Sam’s Dad” Tarley. But then again, her lead on finding the Stark girl crossing to Essos has gone dry and been replaced with a new story that the Stark girl, who Brienne assumes to be Sansa, was spotted with The Hound.

Hyle Hunt: Lord Tarley! I have returned from a journey with Lady Brienne and we can into a gang of three vicious outlaws – former members of the Bloody Mummers.

Brienne: Yeah, and watch this stupid bitch Hyle claim credit for killing all of them, just like stupid ass knights always take credit.

Hyle: Fortunately, Lady Brienne slayed all three of them by herself in fierce hand-to-hand combat!

Brienne: Wow! That was unexpected. Thanks for the credit, Hyle.  Well, you fucking sexist asshole Randyll. You mocked me for being a woman pretending to be a soldier, but here I am. I killed three of the deadliest outlaws in the lands. Men that your men had been hunting for months and been unable to find and kill. You said that because I was a woman I’d never have the heart to kill. 

Lord Tarley: …

Brienne: I guess by defying all your claims I’ve completely invalidated your false realities and proven everything you supposedly “know” is wrong.

Lord Tarley: … I… ermm… you’re a freak of nature. That’s the only reason why you were able to do it. It’s time for you to wear proper ladies clothes now, fuck off back to Tarth, and marry a man to be a subservient piece of property.

Brienne: WHAT?! But I just PROVED TO YOU WITH EVIDENCE AND FACTUAL STATEMENTS, ALONG WITH WITNESSES WHO SAW IT ALL HAPPEN—

Hyle: --It’s true. I saw it all!

Brienne: --That I am a skilled and capable warrior, better than any of your own men.  Your distorted, backwards world view said it wasn’t possible. But now that you see that it is possible… you just say, “Oh well of course it was possible, I knew it all along because you’re a freak. Now I will ignore everything, pretend it never happened, and disregard it because it invalidates my false truths.”

Lord Tarley: Well I did vote for Trump, so yeah.

Brienne: GO FUCK YOURSELF. I hope a fucking dragon burns you to death.

Hyle: Wow, that’s a bit harsh.

Brienne: You know who is next on my list? The Hound! You’ve been hunting for him too, haven’t you?

Lord Tarley: Aye. He’s joined Beric’s crew.

Brienne: But you and your men haven’t gotten him because YOU’RE FUCKING WEAK-ASS BITCHES! Well I’m going to do what you can’t and prove that I’M MORE OF A MAN THAN YOU. Maybe after I capture and kill him, I’ll bring his head back to you too and throw it on your shitty lap so you can once again live in the ULTIMATE FUCKING SHAME OF BEING OWNED BY A WOMAN.

Lord Tarley: *eye twitches uncontrollably, but just stands there and pretends like nothing is wrong*

Podrick, as her squire, pulls out a microphone for her to drops and they walk away.

Lord Tarley: You’re… you’re BANNED FROM MAIDENPOOL! YOU HAVE 24 HOURS TO GET OUT OF TOWN AND I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN! I’M TAKING MY FOOTBALL AND RUNNING HOME WITH IT BECAUSE YOU BEAT ME! I HOPE YOU GET RAPED! WHHAAAAAAA!!!!

Randyll starts old man sobbing. Hyle runs to catch up with Brienne and Pod.

Brienne: Oh no! You’re not coming with us.

Hyle: Oh, come on! Meet me tomorrow morning at the Stinking Goose. I might have some information for you on the Hound by then.

Brienne eyes him suspiciously for a minute, but then nods her head.  She then heads out to find lodging for the night.  But it’s hard to get on such short notice. Fortunately, Pod remembers something…

Pod: Oh hey! You know when all the inns are filled up, sometimes the ships on the docks rent out their cabin space for really low, discount prices! I mean there are all those rooms going unused because and the sailors are all ashore drinking and getting STDs from prostitutes.

Brienne: Hrm. Good call, Podrick. Sounds quite affordable.

And so they go down to the shipyard where they pass by a bunch of ships, including one called “The Titan’s Daughter,” which is just casting off.

Pod: Hey Brienne! You know how you like going around and asking everyone if they’ve seen any Stark daughters? How about you go up and ask the Captain of that ship before he casts off?

Brienne: Nah. Everyone I ask tells me “no.” It’s getting to be pretty worthless now.

Pod: HAHAHAHA! This is funny because the Titan’s Daughter is actually the ship which carried Arya Stark to Braavos!

Brienne: Wait! Time out from the narrative, and a discussion of timelines in this book. Arya going to Braavos was in Chapter 6 and now we’re in Chapter 25. My initial assumption is that this ship doesn’t actually have Arya on it now and that maybe it’s back on a return voyage to Braavos. After all, the Arya II chapter which occurred before this one elapsed a lot of time and it makes it appear that Ayra has been training for months. And this chapter is placed AFTER that chapter.

Pod: Right. That’s not a bad assumption. But then again, the books really start to get fuzzy with timelines and the order of events. You’ll have to recall that at the beginning of A Storm of Swords, GRRM issues “A Note on Chronology” that talks about such problems with assuming that chapter ordering is definitely linked to the chronological occurrence of events. He rightly notes that while some chapters take place over the course of an hour, other chapters take place over a day, days, weeks, months, half a year, etc. And they’re happening in geographically distinct parts of the world. For that note, he explicitly states that many chapters in that book do not follow the chapters from the previous book, but instead overlap them.

Brienne: Indeed, I remember that note. And I also know that this book splits the narrative in half and leaves out some fan-favorite POVs like Jon Snow, Dany and Tyrion.  Therefore the events of the next book, A Dance with Dragons, occur simultaneously to this one. But these aren’t two different books this time. It’s the same book and you’d think, at the very least, if GRRM wanted to imply that we had “just missed” Arya here, that this chapter would have been set before Arya II, AKA Chapter 22.  Because the first Arya chapter does indeed span a lot of time and explain her first moments aboard the ship – one could place this Chapter any time after that chapter and yet before her second chapter and narratively it might still be believable that we “just” missed her. After all, Arya left from the Saltpans which is much more inland than Maidenpool. So if Arya is indeed on this ship, she’d already be a little bit in to her journey.

Pod: Well, I guess the answer is we’ll never know for sure. Maybe Arya is actually on that ship right now and the chapter order is just not synched up chronologically. Or maybe she’s been gone for months and months the ship has already returned for another voyage between Westeros and Essos.

Brienne: Okay, we can go back to the actual narrative now.

They find a ship to sleep in for the night, but Brienne has trouble sleeping because she dreams of the men she killed. And killing people for the first time is no joke.  She wakes up and heads to the Stinking Goose.

Hyle: Hey Brienne!

Brienne: Ugh. I do not need your help.

Hyle: Then why did you come to the Stinking Goose, where I explicitly told you to meet me this morning?

Brienne: Just give me this info you have on the Hound and get out of my face.

Hyle: Well… you see… first of all that stuff that Lord Randyll told you about the Hound joining with Lord Beric? It’s all bullshit. He made it up himself to try to turn the smallfolk against Beric. Why? Because Beric is actually fighting for the smallfolk like some sort of fucking Robin Hood and he’s a stand-up dude. Meanwhile, Tarley is just another fucking Lord who will burn down everything they own and have his soldiers rape and kill them.

Brienne: Yes, that sounds like Randyll Tarley.

Hyle: And also… so… I got this cousin named “Alyn,” right? And Alyn said that the Hound was last seen at the Saltpans trying to find a ship.

Pod: Oooh! How recently was that? That might help us explain our timeline questions above!

Brienne: No, Pod! No! We need to just give up on that now and move on.

Hyle: So anyway, he apparently never got on that ship because he’s stuck in the Saltpans with a whole bunch of people hunting him down. Not only is the Hound NOT with Beric. Beric is actually trying to catch him. And it’s not just Beric. Apparently there is this OTHER band of people that are following this lady named LADY STONEHEART. Yeah. Crazy. Nobody knows quite who she is. Some people say that she’s Beric’s lover. Other people say that she’s some lady that was killed by the Freys but brought back to life by a kiss from Beric and now she can’t die just like he can’t die.

Brienne: Sounds like a bunch of crazy talk.

Hyle: Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I know this guy named Septon Meribald. He’s a circuit septon that roams from town to town along the Riverlands and he’s making his way to the Saltpans. We should join up with him.

Brienne: “We?” There is no we. I’m not having Randyll Tarley’s spy follow me along.

Hyle: Tarley? No. Fuck that dude. You know what he just did? He fired me for my insolence by supporting you. I’m pretty much a free agent now. I get to be what I always wanted to be! A hedge knight! Roaming the country and doing heroic deeds… for money, of course. And I bet there is a pretty penny for me if I catch that Sansa Stark girl.

Brienne: Even more of a reason why YOU’RE NOT COMING WITH ME.

Hyle: Just try to stop me. It’s my tip and my lead. I’m going with Septon Meribald to the Saltpans. If you’re going too… that really means YOU’RE tagging along with ME. Not the other way.

Brienne: *grumble*grumble*

The next day, they meet up with the septon.

Meribald: Ah, hello! Hello! Good to meet you, m’am! You’re welcome to join me on my journey.

Dog: Woof!

Meribald: Oh, I also have a dog. His name is dog. Because I am lazy.

Brienne: Well, you seem like a jolly and affable guy. It’s so weird to run into a non-asshole character. I mean look at you. Generally nice. You seem super humble too. You don’t even wear shoes. Your feet are a mess, honestly.

Meribald: Ah yes, but I feel nothing walking on my bare feet because they are so callused and hard from years of walking on them that they are sort of like shoes.  I swore of shoes years ago as a pennace for all the sins I had done.

Brienne: Sins?

Meribald: Yes, I am a man of the seven gods now, but years ago I was quite the sinner. Even when I was a septon! Why there were many young maidens who came to me in confidence with confessions and I… well… popped dem cherries.

Brienne: Hrm. Gross. At least you said “maidens,” so I can pretend that you’re talking about women in their 20’s rather than girls.

Pod: And we know he actually is a septon of the faith of the seven rather than a Catholic priest because he said “maidens” rather than “boys.” Am I right?

Pod goes up for a high five, but Brienne leaves him hanging and shakes her head in disgust at him.

Dog: *woof*

Meribald: I was a sinner, it’s true. But I’ve put that behind me. Some company and people to talk to on my voyage will be good.

And so they make their way out on the road. Occasionally, they stop in a town and the septon says some prayers for the local folks. Then they head to the next town. 

Along the way on the road…

Meribald: Now tell me Brienne, why do you wish to go to the Saltpans?

Brienne: Oh, we’re hunting down The Hound, who has kidnapped Sansa Stark, and has gone there.

Meribald: YIKES.

Meribald immediately gets on his knees and says a prayer for them.

Brienne: Oh, that’s too kind, septon. You don’t need to pray for us.

Meribald: Oh but I do. The Hound? Guess you’ll be dead soon. Anyway. Continue on with me. This way! And let’s stick together closely. There is danger on the roads.

Pod: Bandits?

Meribald: Aye, some of those. But more dangerous is the wolves. There is a HUGE PACK of them roaming through the country and killing people like it’s nothing. They have acquired a taste for human flesh and now eat nothing else. They say that there is a monstrous she-wolf that leads them all.

Brienne: Oh sweet. Another Nymeria reference! I’m starting to think that even though this chapter is mine… it’s really more about Arya.

And they continue on still.

They reach another town and receive a warning from a villager.

Villager: Watch out on this road, guys.

Brienne: The wolves thing?

Villager: No. Broken men.

Brienne: Broken men? What are those?

Hyle: Ugh. The worst. Thieves and outlaws. They should be killed on sight!

Meribald: Please, no, good Ser Hyle! If we come across these men, leave them to me and do not engage them yourselves. While it’s true these men can be dangerous… they are more to be pitied than feared! For anyone can turn into a broken man if the wrong things happen to them. A man can be a good, dutiful man of the village who leads a good and moral life. And then war comes through and destroys everything around him. Perhaps this man join the war as a soldier with a couple of other brothers, friends and villagers. If he’s lucky enough to not be killed himself… then many of the brothers and friends he knows will be killed. And what do the smallfolk who fight in these wars get? Barely anything. It’s the Lords who win the treasures and claim the lands. The men are taught to be warriors and killers. All they get is what they rape and plunder. Then they go home. Perhaps the war ends, or perhaps they decide to be deserters from the army. Either way… they go home a different man. Or perhaps they don’t go home at all because there home has been destroyed in war. It’s the military industrial complex. It grinds us all down into cogs in the machine of war. It destroys us. These are the broken men!

Hyle: …

Brienne: …

Pod: …

Villager: …

Dog: *woof*

Brienne: Dude, that was SUPER fucking depressing.

Meribald: Yeah, sorry.

Brienne: And it also sounded extremely autobiographical. So how old were you when you had to go to war the first time?

Meribald: I was too young. And I watched all my brothers die.

Hyle: …

Brienne: …

Pod: …

Villager: …

Dog: *woof* 

Brienne: Well SHIT, septon. I’m so sorry. How the hell are you a functioning, good, kind person these days and not totally fucked up?

Meribald: Well, as noted. I was a fucked up person. Until the faith of the seven saved me.

Hyle: I take it the war you speak of was the War of the Ninepenny Kings?

Meribald: That is what they called it. Though I never saw a king or earned a penny. So the name is pretty misleading. The “war” part is accurate though. A war it was.

AFfC 24: Cersei V

Cold open.

Tommen: BUT I WANNA SIT ON THE THRONE!

Cersei: No. It’s thorny. You’ll hurt yourself.

Tommen: I’M THE KING! I WANT TO SIT ON THE THRONE! And I want to go to the Small Council meetings!

Cersei: Why the hell would you want to do that? They’re boring as hell. Trust me, I know.

Tommen: I’M THE KING! The Small Council is supposed to advise the king! How am I supposed to be the king if I never hear their advise!

Cersei: Ugh. Just where the hell is all this nonsense getting into your head from? I bet it’s that fucking cunt Margaery, isn’t it? GRRR! I hate her! Everything that is wrong in the world is due to other women who are not me! It’s Margaery, isn’t it? Tell me!

Tommen: Uhh… ermm… no? I just thought of it on my own BECAUSE I’M KING!

Cersei: NO! You don’t get to do any of that until you’re older. NOW GO TO YOUR ROOM!

Tommen: WHAAA!!!!

Cersei: Stupid Margaery. Trying to cheat me out of my time in the sun. Well, I’ll show her. I’ll show them all!

Later that day… at the Small Council Meeting…

Maester Pycelle: …and there is that matter of White Harbor.  Lord Wyman Manderly reports to us that he has obeyed he ultimatum we gave him about his captive, Lord Stannis’s onion knight, Davos… uh… Davos Something-or-Other.  He has been beheaded.

Cersei: Good, good! Excellent. If it is true, of course. Manderly is a northerner and we have his son as a hostage. He was initially loyal to the Starks. What proof do we have that this is true?

Pycelle: Lord Manderly has placed the Onion Knight’s head upon a pike in the city for all to see, along with his hands. One of his hands, of course, had the fingers famously cut off at the knuckles. Some of our Frey allies are in the White Harbor have confirmed that they have seen this head and the knuckle-less hand on the pikes. It is surely the Onion Knight. I mean… how else would it be possible to fake that? Cut off SOMEONE ELSE’S HEAD and then take their fingers and ALSO CUT THEIR KNUCKLES OFF? Sounds implausible.

Cersei: Good! That is all the proof I will ever need! Now I will blindly assume that we have really made traction with the Northmen who will all side with us against Stannis! Have Manderly’s son returned to him. Now what is the next order of business?

Pycelle: Mace Tyrell’s army falters at Storm’s End and makes no progress.

Cersei: Of course it does because Mace Tyrell is fucking incompetent. NEXT!

Pycelle: Noho Dimittis from the Iron Bank of Braavos has arrived, demanding an audience to speak about our debt to the Iron Bank.

Cersei: NOPE. Tell the Iron Bank that we are in the middle of a war and they will be paid back when the rebellion is over. Okay. Anything else? No? Fine… then I’m OUT! I have an important… uhh… meeting that I need to attend.

She sneaks off to secretly meet with Ser Osney Kettleblack.

Cersei: So, how is operation “Seduce Margary” going?

Ser Osney: Uh… well… I haven’t slept with her yet.

Cersei: WHAT?!

Osney: I mean… you know… she is the Queen and she’s married to your son. She knows what has happened in the past to queens who cheat on their kings. Maybe she simply has no interest in cheating on Tommen.

Cersei: NONSENSE! SHE IS A FILTHY WHORE! ALL WOMEN EXCEPT FOR ME ARE FILTHY WHORES! OBVIOUSLY YOU ARE AT FAULT!

Osney: Uhh…

Cersei: GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! IF YOU’RE NOT COMPETANT ENOUGH TO HANDLE THIS YOURSELF, I WILL FIND A WAY TO MAKE IT HAPPEN!

And so she leaves. Next she’s out in the courtyard of the Red Keep and sees Tommen there, jousting.

Tommen: Weeeee! Jousting is so much fun!

Margaery: Oh, my brave husband! You’re so good at this! Good work!

Loras: Hahaha, yes young King Tommen. An excellent fighter you will be one day when you are a grown man. Better than me, I think!

Cersei: JUST WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!

Tommen: Mommy! Mommy! Look! Ser Loras is teaching me to joust! I’m getting so much better! I hit the quintain every time.

Cersei: WHO TOLD YOU THAT YOU COULD DO THIS?! JOUSTING IS DANGEROUS! YOU MUST STOP!

Tommen: I told them I wanted to joust myself, mommy! Nobody told me to do this. I’m the king and so I told Loras to teach me because he’s the best!

Loras: Oh, but I fear not for long with you learning so fast, your majesty!  Dear Queen Cersei, you have nothing to fear for the safety of your boy. I have made sure that he will be in no danger. Besides, he is quite good at this!

Cersei: Well OBVIOUSLY he’s fucking good at it, you dipshit Tyrell fucker. It’s in his blood! His father was a great jouster too and won many tournaments.

Margaery: Oh! Why that’s wonderful! I didn’t know that at all. We have all heard stories about your late husband, our dear King Robert’s, amazing melee skills. He was the best melee fighter there was!  But I have never, EVER, EVER, A SINGLE TIME EVER heard a single story about his jousting skills or him winning tournaments! Please, dear sister! We must sit and you can tell us all about Robert’s jousting stories! I wish for you to talk about all the tournaments he won!

Cersei: …

Margaery: …

Cersei: …

Loras: …

Tommen: …Yeah mommy! I didn’t know daddy could joust either! I remember him saying how he hated jousting. Now Uncle Jaime… he’s a great jouster!

Cersei: YOU’RE NOT HELPING, TOMMEN!!!

Tommen: Huh?

Cersei: LORAS! A WORD WITH YOU! NOW!

She pulls Loras over to the side.

Cersei: You are a member of the Kingsguard. It is NOT your job to train the king. That is what we have a Master-at-Arms for.  It is your job to DIE for the king.

Loras: Aye, Cersei. I agree totally. But the last Master of Arms, Aron Santagar, was murdered in the uprising that happened when that crowd attacked the convoy that returned from dropping off Princess Myrcella at the harbor to send her off to Dorne.  And he’s not just dead. He’s super dead. His face got smashed to a pulp and they weren’t even able to identify him by his non-existent head. Needless to say, he won’t be training Tommen.

Cersei: I KNOW THAT, FOOL! Obviously that is a vacancy I have been meaning to fill. I’ll get around to it.

Loras: In the meantime, I should train the boy. When I was younger than him, I was already a squire to your brother-in-law, Renly. The boy should be a squire by now if he means to ever be knight or true warrior.

Cersei: Oh… that’s fucking rich. You want me to make Tommen your fucking SQUIRE?! He is YOUR KING, NOT YOUR SQUIRE! I see what’s happening here… you’re trying to win him over to your side! Trying to get him on Team Tyrell! I know how “close” you got with Renly when you squired with him… don’t think that shit is going to work with me, bitch!

Loras: What?... What are you talking about? My side? My team? We’re on the SAME SIDE, Cersei. We’re on the same team.

Cersei, without answering, sticks both middle fingers in Loras’s face, turns around, grabs Tommen by the arm harshly, and storms out with him.

Tommen: OW! OW! OW! Stop mommy! I think you just dislocated my arm!

Loras: WHICH I NEVER DID, BY THE WAY! BECAUSE THIS JOUSTING WAS SAFE AND I WAS JUST LOOKING OUT FOR YOUR SON AND SUPPORTING HIM AND HELPING HIM GROW UP TO BE A MAN! WHICH WILL NEVER HAPPEN IF YOU KEEP BABYING HIM!

She pretends not to hear it. Because she’s an irrational bitch.

Yet later again, Cersei meets with her new, favorite and absolutely creepy yes-person, Qyburn.

Qyburn: My lady, I have news from the Free Cities about a slave revolt in Astapor which has now spread to Meereen.

Cersei: Boring. Don’t care. Things happening on another continent far away from me will never effect my life and so I will ignore them.  That’s what GREAT rulers do. Tell me something a little closer to home that I might care about.

Qyburn: In Dorne, the young daughter of Symon Santagar, the Knight of Spottswood, Sylva, has suddenly been wed the 70-year old Lord Eldon Estermont.

Cersei: Holy crap. Another Santagar? There are only like three Santagars in this entire book series that have ever been mentioned and ALL THREE were just mentioned in this chapter. Aron. Symon. Sylva.  How crazy is that? Also, why the fuck should I care about Sylva Santagar being wed?

Qyburn: Well, she is related to you. Only remotely though and through your husband, Robert.

Cersei: Really. How?

Qyburn: Ah, well that’s a tricky question, you see. Robert’s mother was Lady Cassana Estermont, who married Lord Steffon Baratheon and they both died at sea in that same shipwreck that drove Patchface fucking crazy and/or turned him into am amazing prophet that sings little jingles that predict the future. But the details on how Lady Cassana and Lord Eldon Estermont are related is debatable. Within the text of A Clash of Kings and A Storm of Swords, an unnamed and still-alive “Lord Estermont” was referred to as Stannis’s grandfather, i.e. Lady Cassana’s father. Those same books provide appendixes which clearly refer to Eldon as an uncle to Renly, Stannis and Robert, and hence a brother to Cassana. So, therefore, the unnamed and surprisingly still-alive Lord Estermont in those books would be the father to both Eldon and Cassana. Those books also say that the two have another brother named Lomas, and that Eldon has a son named Aemon, and that Aemon has a son named Alyn. The text and appendix of this book, A Feast for Crows, begins to slightly complicate things though, by implying that Eldon is the Lord Estermont. As in, the unnamed one. So which is it? Is Eldon the Lord or is his father the Lord? The appendix here still refers to Eldon as an uncle to Stannis, which would still make him Cassana’s sister. One way to explain this seeming error is to assume that the elderly and unnamed Lord Estermont mentioned in the previous books had just died, and therefore Eldon is now the Lord and there is no error. Maybe? But then we get to A Dance with Dragons, as well as A World of Ice and Fire, and things now get harder to explain rather than easier. Those sources now say that Eldon is a brother to the initially unnamed Lord Estermont, which implies that that unnamed Lord Estermont must have died and that Eldon took over because the unnamed Lord Estermont had no male heirs, with Cassana being either the unnamed lord’s only child, or at the very least his only surviving child if there had once been male heirs.  Now instead of being a brother to Casssana, Eldon is now an uncle to Cassana. And remember their brother that they both previously had named Lomas? Well now Lomas has shifted to be a son of Eldon rather than a brother, albeit a younger son to his previously mentioned son, Aemon. Or at least I think that’s the story. I might be wrong and it might be EVEN MORE complicated than that. Basically, GRRM made a continuity error with this family, tried to fix it, and then only made things worse.

Cersei: I wish I could somehow un-ask that question and get the last five minutes of my life back. So… again… please tell me WHY THE FUCK I WOULD CARE about this distant non-blood relative.

Qyburn: Don’t you think it’s super weird that Sylva Santagar got married to this old dude suddenly and without notice?

Cersei: No. I barely know anything about the Estermonts. All I know is that I was at their castle in Greenstone once while my drunk-ass, nasty husband tried to seduce his own widowed cousin. While he was doing that... Jaime came into my bedchamber and… well… I like to think that’s the night that Joffrey was conceived but… WAIT… FORGET I SAID THAT! FORGET IT!

Qyburn: Forget you said what, my Queen?

Cersei: Yeah, that’s what I thought. And don’t even DARE to try to figure out what the name of the Estermont cousin might be or how exactly she was related to Robert, because that would be an exercise in futility with this jacked up Estermont family tree.

Qyburn: Anyway, another reason you might care about this marriage, my Queen, is that this Sylva girl was very close with Daemon Sand and Princess Arianne. And I have word that Daemon Sand was recently arrested for trying to free the Sand Snakes who wished to lead a rebellion in Dorne and declare war on  the Lannisters in retaliation for the death of The Red Viper.

Cersei: Ah, well you should have told me that in the first place instead of reading me multiple fucking contradictory genealogy tables. Got any other treason-related gossip for me?

Qyburn: There is a puppet show being put on in the streets. In this puppet show, a pride of lions are devoured by a dragon.

Cersei: Ugh. Metaphors. Okay, execute the puppeteers and take out one eye from anyone caught watching the show. Unless they are a noble-person. In which case give them a giant fine.

Qyburn: May I ask permission to perform experiments on any female puppeteers that are arrested, as opposed to executing them outright? The last girls you gave me are rather… exhausted.

Cersei shudders and almost vomits in her mouth. However…

Cersei: Yeah, you sick fuck. Please just DO NOT TELL ME whatever the hell it is you do with them.

After that conversation, Cersei feels filthy and goes to take a bath. But as she’s in the bath, Jaime and Tommen come in the door and interrupt her.   She has to take the cucumbers off of her eyes.

Cersei: WHAT THE FUCK?!

Tommen: I WANT LORAS TO TRAIN ME, MOMMY!

Cersei: Ugh. This shit again? No. Wait until I appoint a new master-at-arms.

Tommen: NO! I AM THE KING! I WANT LORAS NOW!

Jaime: Hehehehehe. That’s probably what Renly said too.

Cersei: WHAT?!

Jaime: Nothing.

Cersei: And why the hell are you laughing at anyway, Jaime? Shouldn’t you help discipline our s—uhhh… your nephew! No! You’re just laughing with him as he defies me!

Jaime: Pretty much. Because he's hilarious. And right. The boy does need to train.

Cersei: Tommen, you’re being a foolish boy and Ser Loras has more important things to do than train you.

Tommen: I HATE YOU MOMMY! BOOO!!!

He runs out.

Cersei: Ugh. Why must everyone defy me because I am a woman?

Jaime: Why you always gotta play the woman card? Maybe people disagree with you sometimes because you’re wrong?

Cersei: GET OUT! GET OUT!!!!!

Jaime: Are you sure? Maybe you mean “get off” instead?  Cuz you look pretty hot in that bathtub. Maybe I can come in there with you and fingerblast you with this golden—

Cersei: LEAVE, YOU BEAUTIFUL, STUPID GOLDEN FOOL! LEAVE! I HATE YOU!

Jaime looks at this bish like she crazy. Because SHE IS. He leaves.
Cersei: GRRR! I can’t believe that Jaime has turned on me too! Everyone! All of my closest advisors… my direct family Members who I have known for my whole life and have always been there for me… now THEY ARE MY ENEMIES! I can only trust BRAND NEW PEOPLE WHO I BARELY KNOW like Qyburn, the Kettleblacks, and this strange suck-up lady called Taena Merryweather. YES! I CLEARLY MUST TRUST THESE PEOPLE INSTEAD of trusting Pycelle, Jaime, and Uncle Kevan who have all been spending their entire lives to protect the Lannister family. This is a reasonable course of action for me that will only lead to great triumphs! 

For dinner that night, Cersei dines with Lady Falyse Stokeworth and her husband, Balman Byrch.

Cersei: Oh, isn’t it horrible that Lady Tanda had a tragic riding accident and that she’s now unlikely to survive for long? Oh, also… I do not blame you for Lolly’s stupid decision to name her child “Tyrion.”  It’s all this Bronn guy’s fault. He’s a puppet of Tyrion still and he’s plotting against me! He wants to kill Tommen too and take the crown!

Falyse: *GASP*

Balman: The horror! Tell me, Queen. What can we do to help!

Cersei: Well… I suppose Bronn could have a horrible accident happen to him and die!

Balman: Yes. I guess it would be wonderful if that coincidentally happened. But the odds are against it, I guess.

Cersei: Oh, I’m sorry. Was I not using my ironic voice clearly enough? Do you need floating quotation marks around what I’m saying? Fine. Here we go. I suppose Bronn could have a “horrible accident” happen to him and die!

Balman: Well yes, like I said. That would… oh… ah. Aye. I see now. Yes, Queen. I will look into that for you.

Afterwards, she goes to check on her son and finds him asleep in his bedroom as Meryn Trant guards the door.  Tommen is sleeping with three kittens.

Cersei: DAMNIT! Margaery gave him KITTENS too?

Trant: Yep.

Cersei: Disgusting! What a shitty, clumsy attempt to win Tommen over to her side! By constantly giving him gifts, affection and love. By wanting to be close to him and care for him! DISGUSTING, I SAY! She’ll never be able to figure out what true love is… and that’s the love I had for Rhaegar! We would have totally been married… I know it! Too bad my stupid father ruined everything by pissing mad King Aerys off! All of this is his fault! He made Maggy the Frog’s curse turn true! I should have been the mother of Rhaegar’s kids! Then he would have never looked twice at that stupid wolf girl. Stupid Robert could have had her. I’ll never forgive him for killing Rhaegar! But then again… a Lioness never forgives! Bronn of the Blackwater will soon learn that! MWAHAHAHA!

Trant: Uh… m’am. Do you really want me to be here for this ranting soliloquy or did you just forget that I was here?

Cersei: The latter.

~~~~

Addendum:
It look me about four hours to write this one, because I was researching that stupid, stupid Estermont family tree. So if you feel like you wasted your time reading Qyburn's 450-word explanation about Eldon Estermont's blood relations... you have nothing on how I feel after writing it.

AFfC 23: Alayne I (Sansa II)

“Alayne” is living in a pimped out room in the Maiden’s Tower of the Eyrie now, and is wearing all of Lysa’s clothes.

Alayne: This is super weird. Not just because she’s my crazy aunt. But because she also tried to kill me and we had to murder her and frame it on a singer.

She looks out the window of her room and sees the Gates of the Moon in the distance, with the armies of the six Lords Declarant there.
Alayne: Hrm, perhaps the narrator should provide a little more info than just “Lords Declarant,” so that we can have some backstory as to what has happened between my last POV chapter and now.

Ah, well. Six Lords of the Vale – Broze Yohn “Where is My Son” Royce, Gilwood Hunter, Anya Waynwood, Horton Redfort, Symond Templeton, and Benedar Belmore have all gathered, each with a force of about 1000 men (that’s 6000 total, for those keeping count at home). They are the Lords “Declarant” because they have made a declaration for support of Lord Robert Arryn and the need to send the “misrule” of “false friends and evil counselors” who have taken control of him.

Alayne: Oh yeah, that means this group of 6 Lords have gathered together with a bunch of soldiers to depose Petyr Baelish because they don’t trust him. Which is honestly a pretty sensible thing.

Alayne then goes down to breakfast.

Alayne: I just want lemon cakes for breakfast. I FREAKING LOVE LEMON CAKES!!!!

Robert: What I want to have is my mommy’s breast milk. But since I can’t have that… I’ll have a ham and eggs with toast. Whole grain, preferably with some clotted butter and strawberry jam. A glass of orange juice and… oh… silly me! I never said how I wanted the eggs! What a total goofball I am! You know they say it’s dangerous when the eggs aren’t cooked all the way through, but I think I’m going to live a little, you know? Mom would never let me, but since she’s gone why not? The chances of getting some bacteria are really pretty low. So I’ll have the eggs sunny side up! No! NO! STOP! WAIT! That’s perhaps living too dangerously. I don’t want to go all-in crazy like that. How about I just get them over easy. Then they’ll still have a bit of a bloody yolk, but the white will definitely be cooked-through on both sides. OH! And make sure my phone is ready. I want to take a video as I cut the egg open and the yolk comes out. Then I’ll Instagram it! And I command everyone in the castle to like and repost my picture. OH! And can I turn the orange juice to grapefruit juice? Or even better… a 50/50 mix?

Maester Colemon, Wearing a Fancy White Cook Hat: Uhh… we have a can of Vienna sausages and some Wonder bread. And a little bit of Lysa’s old refrigerated breast milk but it’s mostly gone bad. No eggs. No ham. No lemon cakes. That’s it.

Robert: HUH?

Colemon: The Lords Declarant have been sieging the gate for some time and we’re running out of supplies. It’s a blockade.

Alayne: DAMNIT! That’s right! I forgot.

Robert: I WANT MY FOOD! AGGHHHH!!!!!!

Alayne: Okay, calm down. Calm down, sweet Robert before you have another seizure.

Robert: AND SOMEONE SHUT THAT DAMN SINGER UP! I COULD HEAR HIM AGAIN LAST NIGHT!

Alayne goes in to hug him and pat his head.

Alayne: No, no you didn’t. The singer is dead now, Robert. Just calm down. Calm. Calm. There. See? The Singer walked out of the Moon Door and everything is better!

The doors then burst open and Petyr walks in to the dining room.

Littlefinger: Well, the Lords Declarant are coming up, along with Nestor Royce and Ser Lyn Corbray.

Alayne: Who the fuck is Lyn Corbray? That sounds like some alias of Zartan that he'd have in some Cobra Command plot to blow up the Chunnel or something.

Littlefinger: Ah, sometimes you remind me of your mother so much. That sounds like the type of thing that she would say.

Alayne: Honestly, I'm more impressed that the blog writer recalled that joke that he made in October of 2017 and remembered to reference/link it. No... wait... I think that name is familiar though. Isn’t that Corbray guy on our side? It’s hard to keep track of all these characters.

Littlefinger: No, his brother – LYONEL Corbray is on our side, but Lyn is with the Lords Declarant. He was a rival to me and wanted Lysa’s hand in marriage for himself. But that's about all of Lysa he wanted, if you know what I mean.

Alayne: I do not.

Robert: NOOOOO!!!!! I don’t want those stupid, smelly lords to come! I hate them! MAKE THEM GO AWAY! AGHH!!!! I DON’T WANT THEM HERE! ESPECIALLY NOT SER LYN CORBRAY! AGHHH!!!!!!

He begins throwing a fit and this time Sansa Alayne can’t do anything to stop it.

Littlefinger: Ugh. Maester Colemon, perhaps you should begin adding a pinch of Sweetsleep into Robert’s milk to calm him?

Colemon: Dude, you think I haven’t been already? I’ve been upping the dosage on this little fuck a little bit every month since he was two. He’s probably takes enough Sweetsleep now to tranquilize a horse.

Coleman picks up Robert and drags him away, leaving Littlefinger and Alayne alone.

Alayne: Uh oh.

Littlefinger: Come on and give your father a kiss, Alayne.

Alayne gives him a light peck on the cheek.

Littlefinger: Hrm. A very “dutiful” kiss.

Alayne: YEAH. Like the one that a DAUGHTER gives to a FATHER. And speaking of that… do you really think that the Lords Declarant are going to believe I’m your daughter?

Littlefinger: Why wouldn’t they?

Alayne: I’ve bet Bronce Yohn before! Remember? It was at the tournament to my father in Kings Landing! The same one where you were SUPER CREEPY to me.

Littlefinger: Hrm. Yes. That sort of rings a bell. But believe me, he will not recognize you. He saw you once at a tournament where you were a little girl with red hair. Now you are a WOMAN. And quite a hot, sexy adult woman, I might say. With black hair! The dye will fool him surely.

Alayne: Yikes. I’m not even sure in Alabama I’m legally a woman yet, and the south has some pretty messed up age of consent laws.

Littlefinger: Anyway, did you have a point or something?

Alayne: I’m scared! What if the Lords Declarant win or something? I guess we can always flee to Harrenhal, right?

Littlefinger: Ugh. I want nothing to do with Harrenhal. The title as Lord of those ruins was just a stepping stone. Besides, Harrenhal is cursed and everyone who has been Lord of it has met horrible fates.

Alayne: Maybe you should give it to Lord Frey then.

Littlefinger: HAHAHA! Good one! Good one there, Alayne. Because he murdered your mom and brother. I get it. Hahaha. Yes. While we’re speaking of people we’d like to get out of the way… perhaps we should give it to Cersei Lannister instead. We have been playing the game of thrones with her, but I think maybe it’s time to remove her from the game a little early. Although at the rate she’s been fucking up recently, she might do it hersel—

--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.

Alayne: Damnit, Littlefinger. YOU KEEP SAYING THAT!


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 dining room door.

Later, the Lords arrive to the big, important hall and Alayne is there to serve them wine.

Littlefinger: Ah, Lords! Welcome! This is my daughter, Alayne.

Yohn Royce: Hrm. She looks a little bit famil—

Benedar Belmore: --DAYUM! Look at that hot little girly! I’d tap that!

Lyn Corbray: Hahaha, me too! I wonder if she’s had her cherry popped yet! Little pretty bastard girl like that. Mmm! Her hair is too long though. Maybe if we cut it shorter. A LOT shorter, I mean. Like Natalie Portman in V for Vendetta.

Lady Waynwood: You guys are fucking disgusting.

Lyn Corbray: SHUT YOUR MOUTH! You’re just jealous because you’re ugly. Don’t make me slap you in the--

Littlefinger: --Yes. Yes. Settle down, everyone. She is quite hot… I… uh… I mean HEY! Stop talking about my daughter like that while I’m standing right here!

And with grown, adult men talking about sexually assaulting a girl who just had her first period not that long ago… Yohn Royce is easily distracted and forgets all about the fact that he thought Alayne looked familiar.

Yohn: What was I talking about? Probably my son, Waymar. I miss him so much. WAYMAR, WHERE ARE YOU?! I wish that they’d just send word back from the Wall on what happened to my son!

Littlefinger: Perhaps this hall is too formal a place for the intimate conversations we must have. Please, let Alayne lead you all into the solar so we can discuss important business.

Alayne leads them in and they get to business.

Littlefinger: So I saw this declaration you all made and I TOTALLY AGREE!!!

Yohn Royce: Uhh… what?

Littlefinger: Yes. You talked of weeding out the “misrule” of “false friends and evil counselors” who are betraying Lord Robert. I am totally with you guys on this one. Let’s find out who these false friends and evil counselors are and get rid of them!  Is it too late for the Six Lords Declarant to become the Seven Lords Declarant? I’d like to sign the declaration too.

The Lords Declarant then all look at each other, totally confused. Yohn finally responds.

Yohn: Dude, we were talking about YOU.

Littlefinger: Me? ME? Why, there must be some mistake.

Yohn: Our demands are simple. You must step down as Lord Protector and leave the Vale. Then we six shall share fostership over Lord Robert if he… uhh… of course I mean “until he” comes of age.

Littlefinger: I don’t know why you don’t trust me! Someone must be feeding you lies. Lady Lysa married me and named me as Lord Protector.

Yohn: The Vale belongs to the Arryns. Lady Lysa was a Tully. Her own claim to rule over her son itself was feeble.

Littlefinger: You have no right to get rid of me.  And how exactly do you plan to share fostership over Lord Robert between the six of you? Do you mean to send him from town-to-town to take turns under all of you?

Yohn: Yeah, pretty much.

Littlefinger: The poor boy! Don’t you see how sickly and frail he is? Do you think he can survive all that travel? No! You all seem to be looking out for YOURSELVES and YOUR OWN POWER AND INFLUENCE. I only want what’s best for my dear Robert, who is like a son to me ever since I married Lysa.

Redfort: WE SHALL HAVE THE BOY!

Littlefinger: It sounds like you are being the aggressors here, seizing power. Not me. You mean to make war when there is peace?

Yohn: Perhaps we do.

Littlefinger: And what of when the crown finds out about this? They support my claim.

Lyn Corbray pulls out his sword.

Ser Lyn: ENOUGH! This Littlefinger will talk all of you idiots all out of your smallclothes! He’s making US look like the bad guys and him look like the good guy! It’s CRAZY! He’s a master manipulator! Cold steel will settle who the Lord Protector of  the Vale is, not words!

The Lords Declarant around him gasp in horror.

Lady Waynwood: *GASP* Put that fucking sword down, Corbray! Are you some sort of filthy animal?

Symond Templeton: We are here under GUEST’S RIGHTS! We broke bread and wined with Baelish!

Gilwood: Right! You’re a fool, Corbray! Do you mean to dishonor us like we’re some filthy Freys that would murder people after breaking bread?

Ser Lyn: You’re all a bunch of STUPID FUCKING PUSSIES! You’re going to let him win!

He puts his sword back away and storms out.

Horton: Lord Protector Baelish, our apologies! That… that man does not speak for us!

Littlefinger: Hrm. Does he not? You all came together. I met with you and said I wanted to sign your declaration. I said I was on your side and that I supposed you. Then you threaten war with me and pull a sword out to kill me after we have broken bread?  In front of all these witnesses! Technically, I have the legal right now to throw you all in prison for such an insult.

They sit there silently.

Littlefinger: But you know what? I won’t! Why? Because I’m not the bad guy here. I really, really do support your plan to end the misrule here. Do I deny that things are pretty fucked up here? No, of course not. I mean Lysa was ruling this place ever since Lord Arryn died. And while, yeah, I loved my wife… let’s go ahead and be honest. She had a few loose screws in her head.

Gilwood: A few?

Lady Waynwood: That lady was nuttier than a Payday candy bar.

Horton: She breastfed a boy who is almost a damned teenager! They crazy bitchy was cuckoo for cocoa puffs.

Littlefinger: Indeed. Quite. She was mad as a hatter and stuff went to shit. You know that. I know that. Everybody knows that. They knew that back in Kings Landing, which is why they sent me to marry her and try to help her get her shit in order. You know why? Because they knew me in Kings Landing. I was master of coin of the ENTIRE REALM. I served a king and was able to bring order and stability despite his really fucked up financial strategies that were constantly plunging the kingdom into debt. You all loved Lord Arryn, just as I did.  Lord Arryn and I were the only ones on the Small Council that kept the Kingdom from total fucking anarchy. So instead of calling me a “false friend” or an “evil counselor,” and waging a costly, blood civil war in the Vale… how about I propose a counter offer? One year. That’s all I’m asking you. Give me ONE YEAR to turn things around and end the “misrule” now that Lysa is dead. If you are satisfied with what I have done, then all is good and there will be no punishment for you making this declaration against me and coming here to threaten rebellion to me under guest right.  And if one year from now you think things are still messed up and DON’T support me? I’ll leave. I won’t fight. I won’t launch any reprisals.

The Lords Declarant look at each other and start murmuring.

Gilwood: No reprisals?

Littlefinger: None.

Symond: And you’ll just leave in one year if we’re not satisfied with the job you’ve done? Just like that? We take your word that you’ll leave?

Littlefinger: My word or whatever. If you’d like to write it down in a contract, I’ll be happy to sign that!

They continue to talk and murmur. They all seem on the same page, except for Brone Yohn who just roles his eyes and throws his hands in the air. He doesn’t object though.

Lady Waynwood: Then it’s a deal, Littlefinger! We’ll give you a year to make things right again in the Vale, and if we’re not happy you’re out!

Littlefinger: YES! It’s a deal!

They all shake on it and the Lords Declarant depart the solar. Bronze Yohn is the last to leave. Before he heads out the door, he turns and gives a slow clap to Littlefinger.

Yohn: Well… fucking… played, Littlefinger. Well played, indeed.  But just know… not all of us are fucking idiots. I see what you did there. Don’t think I didn’t see what you did there.

Yohn points his fingers at his two eyes and then to Littlefinger’s eyes, and then back to his own eyes and then back to Littlefinger’s eyes.

Yohn: Yeah… I’ll be watching you, Baelish.

He leaves. Probably out to look for his dead son. Who is, and always will be, still dead since the very first prologue of the first book.

Alayne: HOLY SHIT, LITTLEFINGER! YOU ARE LIKE A WITCH THAT ENCHANTED THEM!

Littlefinger: Yes, I am pretty awesome.

Alayne: But… what… what will you do next year when they comeback? Let’s be honest, this place is a HUGE SHIT SHOW and I really doubt you can turn it around.

Littlefinger: Oh come on. A year? A year is AGES from now. A year from now half of those lords might be dead and the other half will be bought.  Bronze Yohn though, he’ll be the stickler. But alone he will pose no threat.

Alayne: And what about Ser Lyn? He really seems to want you dead.

Littlefinger: Yes, he does. He’ll join every last plot there is to get rid of me. But I know something he wants even more than to see me dead. Ser Lyn is a man of simple tastes. He likes gold and boys and killing. I shall give him those things.

Alayne: Ah, okay. I see. So I guess that… waaaaaaittt… what the fuck did you just say? You said he likes boys? You’re going to give him boys?

Littlefinger: You heard me.

Alayne: What the HELL? How can you… wait… OH SNAP! Now I understand the line earlier in the chapter where Lord Robert especially called out Ser Lyn as the lord he didn’t want to see.

Littlefinger: Yes. Lyn Corbray is a child-molesting deviant. You really have to read between the lines on that one to figure it out, but it’s all there.

Alayne: And it also explains why he said I'd be hotter if I shaved my dead like Natalie Portman in V for Vendetta.

Littlefinger: Correct. Because then you'd look more like a boy to him. 

Alayne: And you’re just as fucked up as him for saying that you’re going to give him boys.

Littlefinger: *shrugs apathetically*

AFfC 22: Arya II

In the House of Black & White…

Kind Old Man: Who are you?

Arya: No One.

Kind Old Man: Liar. Who are you?

Arya: No One.

Kind Old Man: Liar. Who are you?

Arya: No One.

And so on and so on. You get the picture.
Kind Old Man: So you got a list of people you want dead or anything?

Arya: YES! Joffrey, Chiswyck, Ser Gregor Clegane, Sandor Clegane, Dunsen, Queen Cersei, Ser Amory Lorch, Ser Ilyn Payne, Polliver, Raff the Sweetling, The Tickler, Ser Meryn Trant and Weese is the fullest extent of my list. But a good number of those people are dead now. So it’s a lot shorter. Also I took Sandor off my list. But then I let him die anyway. I think he’s dead. I mean… I’m pretty sure. Either that or he’s a gravedigger now. Anyway, now it’s just Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, and Queen Cersei.

Kind Old Man: Arya Stark wishes these people to be dead. No one should have no list. If a girl wishes to be be no one, a girl will have no list. The servants of the Many-Faced God do not get to say who lives and dies, but do only his bidding.

Arya: Oh.

Kind Old Man: Now, a girl shall do some chores.

And so Arya goes to help in the kitchens. She did this before in Harrenhal so she has experience, but this time it’s a lot better because it’s warm and nobody beats her when she eats food. Over time, she learns the ground rules of this place. The Kind Old Man never says his name, nor does the Waif. She is not allowed in the third level of the temple where the priests all go and treat the bodies. Also, people come here all the time to drink from the fountain and die. It’s sort of a thing.

Arya: I wonder what happens to all the bodies. Any how come everyone who comes here drinks from the fountain to die like it ain’t no big thang?  In Westeros, everyone is scared of death. Here it’s like everyone embraces it.

Kind Old Man: Death is a gift. An end to pain and strife. And the candles here in the temple release soothing scents that relax them.

Arya: Are they weed candles or something? Because I have yet to see any weed candles from the Yankee Candle company. Although I’m sure it’s coming soon.

Kind Old Man: Take a breath and smell. What is it that you smell?

Arya takes a big sniff. She smells home and Winterfell. But she’s not supposed to smell Winterfell. So she doesn’t say that. 

Arya: I smell… uh… Red Apple Wreath?

Kind Old Man: A girl lies. A girl smells home because she yearns to go home. A girl may go home whenever she wishes.

The Kind Old Man quickly hides the candle, which would have proved it was all a trick and the scent was called "Winterfell Musk."

Arya: I don’t want to leave.

Kind Old Man: A girl must choose to serve, or she must leave.

Arya: I’m choosing to serve!

Kind Old Man: Then a girl must no longer be Arya Stark.

Arya: Okay, that’s cool. I’m not still her then. I’m No One.

Kind Old Man: A girl still has Arya Stark’s things.

Arya: Oh? Like these clothes and these coins and stuff? Cool, I can throw all that crap away.

Kind Old Man: And what of Arya Stark’s sword?

Arya: Needle? NEEDLE?! You want me to throw away NEEDLE?!

Kind Old Man: The sword belongs to Arya of House Stark, and we have no place for Arya Stark here. Very few have the strength to serve the Many-Faced God, and even fewer women. I do not think that Arya Stark has the strength.

Arya: I DO TOO! Uh… I mean… uhm… a girl does too! I mean… uh… No One does too! You get what I’m going with here, right dude?

He shakes his head and walks away.

That night, Arya gathers up all her things and sneaks out of the House of the Black & White. She starts to throw all her things in the water.

Arya: Goodbye fidget spinner! Goodbye Backstreet Boys poster! Goodbye creepy pictures of dead bodies collection that I have! Goodbye Need—uhh…

But she stops her arm before she throws Needle into the water.

Arya: I… like… had to go through a lot to get this sword back. It got stolen from me and I got it back. It was a gift from Jon. I can’t… no… I can’t just throw it into the water. It’s more than a sword. It’s everything that is Arya Stark. Everything Arya Stark ever loved and believed in. Can I really toss it into the water? No. This Many-Faced God may wish for me to serve him, but the Old Gods of the North brought the sword back to me for a reason.

She turns around and looks at a bunch of stones that are around her. She kicks them and finds one that is sort of loose. She pulls it up and places Needle under the stone. She then puts the stone back in place.

Arya: THERE! No one will ever find it!

She heads back to the House of the Black & White.

The next morning, Arya runs into the Kind Old Man again.

Kind Old Man: A man sees that a girl no longer has her things.

Arya: Yeppers.

Kind Old Man: A girl shows strength. A man will tell you more about the Faceless Men.

Arya: Oh good! BACKSTORY DROPPING TIME!

Kind Old Man: The Faceless Men were initially slaves in the mines of Valyria.

Arya: Oh cool. So I bet they rose up to kill their evil slave masters, huh?

Kind Old Man: A girl will shut up when a man is telling his story.

Arya: Sorry.

Kind Old Man: And NO. The first man to receive the gift of death was another slave, not a master.

Arya: WHAAAAAAAAA?

Kind Old Man: The gift of death freed the poor slave from the suffering of his slavery. But the gift of death would soon come to the masters as well.

Arya: Oh, that’s cool. So tell me more!

Kind Old Man: Well, it’s really a fairly short backstory. That's about it. We used to be slaves.

Arya: Oh.

Kind Old Man: If a girl wishes to be no one, she must learn to hide her feelings. She must learn to hide when she lies. A man can see when a girl lies. She shows it on her face.

Arya: Yes! Teach me! Teach me how to hide my facial expressions!

Waif: And I will teach you how to speak the Braavosi language.

Arya: Oh, I was wondering when this little girl would actually show up and have some dialogue.

Waif: Little girl? I’m 36.

Arya: WHAT WHAT WHAT? Girl, you must have some great genes. You must get carded in the bars all the time. And even after you show that card saying that you’re 36, I bet they still think it’s a fake ID and throw you out.

Waif: Thanks! *blushes*

The Waif then its Arya in the face with a stick, because that’s something that Faye Marsay would do on the TV show.

After spending a little time learning to hide her facial expressions and getting language skills, the Kind Old Man has a first mission for her.

Kind Old Man: A girl will leave the House of the Black and White to live with the people and continue to learn the language. She will sell shellfish for a man named Brusco.

Arya: “Sell Shellfish?” Oh man, that’s a tongue-twister there. I know I’m going to mess that up.

Kind Old Man: Who is a girl?

Arya: Uhh… No One?

Kind Old Man: Usually a good answer, but no. While a girl must be No One inside the House of Black & White, a girl must have an identity on the outside.

Arya: Oh cool. Maybe I can be “Cat?”

Kind Old Man: Wow. Naming yourself after your dead mother? Uhh… okay. Well. Weird, a man guesses. But I guess we’ll go with that.

Arya: Yeah, I’m Cat and I’m an orphan of Kings Landing. My father used to be a bread-maker but he beat me and I ran away. No wait! An even better story! Sometimes he touched me. So I pulled a “Jaine’s Got a Gun” and killed him. Then for a while I used to sell crystal meth in Flea Bottom. That is until I got all mixed up with a heroin dealer named “Marc” with a "c" who wanted to—

Kind Old Man: --A girl’s backstory is too complex and she needs not think about it that much. Men will not ask a girl that much about her backstory. A girl should be “Cat, an Orphan from Kings Landing.”

That night, Arya gets dressed up in filthy rags and is sent out into Braavos. She looks for Brusco’s place but quickly gets lost.  There she breaths heavily to herself and thinks.

Arya: Ser Gregor. Dunsen. Raff the Sweetling. Ser Ilyn. Ser Meryn. Queen Cersei. Valar Morghulis. Valar Morghulis. Valar Fucking Morghulis.

AFfC 21: The Queenmaker (Arianne I)

Arianne Martell arrives at Shandystone, ruins of an old holdfast in Dorne. It makes Arianne very contemplative, as she thinks back upon her childhood.

Arianne: Ah, I remember I came here as a child with uncle Red Viper and two of my cousins – Tyene and SARELLA. YES. THAT’S RIGHT. SARELLA. A seemingly unimportant character that I am namedropping yet again and who hasn’t been featured yet. OR HAS SHE?

Anyway, it’s nearly nightfall and she makes camp here with a group of her most trusted companions – which includes Garin of Greenblood, Andrey “Dr. Drey” Dalt, and Sylva “Obviously Somehow Related to Aron” Santagar. Gerold “Darkstar” Dayne is there too, but Arianne wouldn’t really consider him one of her most “trusted” companions. I mean his nickname is “Darkstar,” after all.

Darkstar: Hi, I’m a cousin of Arthur Dayne, the late Sword of the Morning. But I’m not from the Daynes of Starfall. I’m from a cadet house that rules at High Hermitage.

Arianne: Ugh. Why did I even bring you with me? You’re one of my ex-es.

Darkstar: Haha, yes I am. Because I am so very handsome.  You probably want to fuck around with your old boyfriend. It’s cool. I’m up for it.

Arianne: Damn you with your sexy, sexy face. Those purple eyes. That silver-white hair with that streak of black in it!

Darkstar: Haha, yes… I have a physical description that very much matches only Targaryens or the other ancient families of Valyria, although the streak of black is a wildcard.  Too bad the books haven’t gone further into my origins to explain who exactly I am or what my parentage may be. Needless to say, it will probably pay off later.

Person on Internet: I THINK HE MIGHT BE THE SON OF LYANNA AND RHAEGAR! JON SNOW IS A FALSE FLAG! THIS GUY LOOKS LIKE A TARGARYEN WITH A STREAK OF STARK-BLACK HAIR!

Darkstar: Well, I’m in my late 20’s and the kid of Lyanna and Rhaegar would be a teenager. So… no.

Person in Internet: OH, NEVER MIND.

Darkstar: Anyway, whatever. I need to go pee.

He leaves to pee.

Drey: Hey, did you hear about that crazy shit over in Essos?

Garin: Yeah. Apparently the Golden Company broke its contract with Myr. The Golden Company NEVER breaks their contracts. I wonder what’s going on in Essos.

Arianne: Yes. Indeed. The mysteries of Essos are intriguing. Perhaps a book will come out, set at the same time as this book, but also including POV chapters from other characters in other locations, that will better explain what’s happening.  But anyway, my brother Quentyn was sent off to Essos on some SECRET MISSION. My dad sent him to be fostered and Yronwood, but then he was sighted at Planky Town seeking passage across the narrow sea. Could he be the one who has hired the Golden Company away from Myr with the wealth of Dorne? And if so… why? Does he mean to bring the company here to contest Dorne? Even if he has gotten the Golden Company behind him for some tricky-ass plan, he’ll never be able to challenge my right to be heir to Dorne! The oldest child always takes over, regardless of sex!  And soon, when we make Myrcella the Queen of Westeros – that policy will go throughout the Seven Kingdoms.

Garin: Well… I’m a little orphan boy, and remember how I got one of my orphan friends to sneak into Quentyn’s belongings and he found a bunch of scrolls sealed with the sun and spear of Dorne? Too bad my friend couldn’t read what those scrolls said without breaking the seals and exposing that we were spying on him.

Arianne: Indeed. If those scrolls are legitimate and signed by my father, he is up to some sort of tricky deal with someone in Essos that he didn’t want to tell me, his heir, about.

Darkstar: Hey, I’m back from urinating! Which means I was just holding my penis, so I bet Arianne wants to smell my hand now because she’s so totally into me still. So, what are you assholes talking about?

Arianne: *rolls eyes*

Sylva: We were just talking about our plan for today. To escape with Princess Myrcella and crown her.

Darkstar: Oh. Well, I’m glad that Arianne wanted to be around me enough to include me in this plan. But honestly… I don’t think it’s going to work. It will never actually put Myrcella on the throne, and I don’t even think it will start the war with the Lannisters that Arianne thinks it will.  Her dad will just say that Arianne did it on her own without permission, which is the truth, and I doubt the Lannisters will send their armies down here to die in this hot dessert where they are ill-prepared to fight an army on its home turf.

Arianne: Oh REALLY? So you have a better plan to start a war with the Lannisters, Darkstar?

Darkstar: Well… I mean… yeah. So, like, if we just KILLED Myrcella then the Lannisters would definitely go to war with us. Right?

Arianne: WHAT?! NO! We’re not killing this little girl! That’s a terrible idea! Right everyone, right?

She looks at all her trusted buddies and they tepidly agree with her.

Sylva: Of course.

Drey: Uhh… yeah. I guess.

Garin: Well, actually killing Myrcella would probably work really well if we… uhh… I mean… WOW… that is an EVIL EYE, you are giving me, Arianne. So I’m going to agree with you now and say it is a TERRIBLE idea.

Darkstar: What? REALLY? We could kill Myrcella AND Aerys Oakheart too. The Princess and sister of the King! A member of the Kingsguard. Murdered here in Dorne! They will go to war with us SO FAST.

Arianne: NO! Enough of that. I am not a child murderer! Myrcella is under my protection.

Darkstar: Whatever.  Just know that this plan will never work. It will only work if every single person involved in the plan is totally part of the plan and won’t snitch. And there is ALWAYS a snitch.

Arianne looks at him with contempt.

Not long after, a rider comes. It is Ser Arys Oakheat himself, riding with Myrcella.

Myrcella: Oh! Arianne! Hi! What… what is going on here? I’m so very confused. Ser Arys grabbed me and told me I had to come with him. Has… has something happened to Tommen?

Arianne: Yes, something has happened to Tommen, my dear sweet girl. But it’s not what you think. He’s still alive and well, but he’s fallen under the influence of evil, evil men who have conspired to take the throne from you!

Myrcella: Uhh… take the throne from me? I’m confused.

Arianne: Well, you ARE older than Tommen, so that means you should have become the Queen after Joffrey died.  I am my companions are here to serve you, my Queen! May I introduce Dr. Drey, Spotted Sylva, Garin, and the Darkstar.

Myrcella: Oh cool! Darkstar! I’ve heard of you. Aren’t you Arthur Dayne’s cousin?

Darkstar: Ugh. Why is it always Arthur everyone talks about? He’s been dead for a decade and a half now! Like my entire life is defined as being that other guy’s cousin. Just a family member to someone more famous. Why do I always have to be the Solange of the Daynes? Why can’t I be the Beyonce for once?

Ser Arys then pulls Arianne aside to have a private conversation with her.

Arys: Oh, my beautiful love! How I adore you so and have missed seeing your beauty!

Arianne: Oh. Yes. Right. My love. Because I love you a lot too and am not just manipulating you for my plans. So, what’s up?

Arys: Have you heard the news?

Arianne: In the Soho Tribune?

Arys: What?

Arianne: Nothing. Never mind. What were you going to tell me?

Arys: Tywin Lannister is DEAD!

Arianne: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?

Arys: Murdered by the Imp! Queen Cersei is now regent of Westeros.

Arianne: Oh wow. That’s crazy. But… then again… Cersei might be a bit more receptive to the idea of Myrcella being in power than Tywin would have ever been. So maybe this will pan out to be a good thing later. I think she’s sort of a feminist.

Arys: I mean… she does support women having power so long as that woman is her. So it’s… you know… sort of a feminist value. A little.

Arianne: Anyway, we must ensure that Myrcella’s disappearance is kept a secret… at least for a few days!  We need to get a head start before my father’s armies pursue us.

Arys: Yes, I set up an elaborate plan where I pretended that Myrcella was getting sick with redspots, so that she has to be quarantined in her room. Fortunately and by TOTAL COINCIDENCE there is also a girl who LOOKS A LOT LIKE MYRCELLA… again… BY TOTAL AND FORTUNATE COINCIDENCE… that has taken her spot. Hopefully with this AGAIN, INCREDIBLY FORTUNATE FOR PLOT PURPOSES DOPPELGANGER replacing Myrcella in her place and quarantined away, the guards at the palace might not realize it’s not her for a couple days.

Arianne: I love coincidences where CONVENIENT UNRELATED DOPPELGANGERS make themselves available. Perhaps if this kingdom were not at war, we could have had a funny anecdote about the two girls switching places to confuse their own, respective, single parents and then reveal that they are the other girl to hook up the two parents with each other, who fall in love.

Arys: Indeed. But let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about our plans going forward now that Myrcella is with us.

Arianne: Oh, you want me to discuss my plans with you like I actually trust and love you! That’s so cute!

She kisses him and rubs his crotch to completely distract him from his train of thought about her telling him her plans. It works.

When the night falls for good and it’s nice and dark, they set out.

Arianne: Yes! We’re going to take Myrcella to the river Greenblood and eventually lead Myrcella to Hellholt, where we will crown her and announce it to the world. Then we will free the Sand Snakes and all of Dorne will join us in the uprising! Huzzah!

And so they travel all night, and then through the day as well. They’re in the blistering, hot sands of the deserts of Dorne. But the beating sun can’t stop them! They must keep up their pace and never stop! If anyone has sold them out… or if Arys’s AMAZING AND FORTUNATE DOPPELGANGER is detected too quickly… the armies of her father, Prince Doran, will soon be upon her.

Arys: *gasp*gasp* So… fucking… hot!

Arianne: Dude. Why are you dressed up in the cloak of a night of Westeros? You’re in the desert! Take your damn armor and cloak off.

Arys: No! I am a Kingsguard and must dress like one!

Arianne: Fucking idiot.

Arys: What was that?

Arianne: Nothing, I said “I love you,” pookey bunny!

Finally, they approach the River Greenblood, where a boat is waiting for them.

Arianne: At last! Our escape is here!

Garin (he’s from Greenblood, so he set this whole boat thing up) jumps up and goes into the boat, and calls out for his friends.

Garin: Hey guys! Where are you? We’re here! Hello? Hello?

Areo Hotah: Oh HAI THAR!

Area Hotah and a dozen soldiers of Dorne pop out of the boat. They pull out swords and crossbows.

Arianne: OH SHIIIIIIIIITTTTT!!!!!

Areo: ARIANNE! Surrender now. Your father gives orders that everyone except for you and Myrcella will be killed if you resist. Their lives will be spared if you give up.

Garin and Dr. Drey immediately throw their arms up into the air and get on their knees, surrendering.

Arys: NO! NO! This cannot be! Our beautiful plan, Arianne! When Myrcella is Queen, she will make a waiver, releasing me from my vows as a Kingsguard so that I might marry you! We cannot let this plan fail! WE MUST FIGHT!

Arianne: Uh… dude. There are TWELVE of them. They have crossbows.

Arys: ATTACK!!!!!

Arys rides into battle, charging at Areo and the guards. By himself.

Arys: NO MAN SHALL TAKE MYRCELLA WHILE I DRAW BREATH!

Areo: Oh, okay. I can work with that.

Areo gives the signal to his crossbowmen, who light up Ser Arys Oakheart of the Kingsguard with two dozen fucking bolts into his lungs.

Arys: *GASP*GASP*NO!... still… barely… breathing… still…

He slowly continues forward in the direction of Aero as more crossbow bolts light him up. One of the crossbowmen turns to look at Areo and gives him a face that’s like, “Hey, what’s up with this crazy guy?”

Areo: Oh, for fucks sake. Just die already.

Areo walks forward with his GIANT, SIX-FOOT LONG AXE and decapitates Arys Oakhart.

Arys: …

Areo: There. Did that do it? Are you still drawing breath? You gonna make a fucking “tis but a scratch joke” now, Oakheart?

Arys: …

Areo: No. I thought not.

Arianne: NOOOOOOO!!!!!! And I mean that not in that I actually loved him, but that this ruins all of my well-crafted plans. I… I… ugh… and watching that beheading is not sitting with with me… I’m… ugh.. ugh…

She vomits and falls off of her horse. But as she falls, she hears--

Myrcella: AGGHHH!!!!! AGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

She dizzily picks herself up, confused and nauseous and unsure of what the hell is going on. Suddenly, she sees that Myrcella is bleeding and clutching her head.

Arianne: What the hell?! Myrcella?! Did one of you idiots SHOOT MYRCELLA?!

Areo: AFTER HIM! AFTER HIM! DO NOT LET HIM ESCAPE!!!

Arianne: Huh? What? Who? Don’t let who escape? You already fucking beheaded my boyfriend, I don’t think that he's going to get up and…

But she turns around to see Darkstar sheathing his bloody sword, jumping up on a horse, and riding off.  Areo’s men mount up and give chase. Where did their horses come from? I’m not sure. Let’s say that they were hidden on the boat too. Or that they’re just taking some horses from Arianne’s party. Because if the soldiers had a bunch of their horses outside of the boat then you’d think Arianne and crew would have noticed before they were ambushed. Whatever.

Arianne: What… what the hell is happening?

Areo: Darkstar tried to kill Myrcella. He missed though, and only sliced off an ear.

Arianne: Ah. Yeah. I guess he did say that killing Myrcella was his preferred plan.  How… how did you find me?

Areo: Someone snitched, Arianne. Someone ALWAYS snitches.

Darkstar (in the distance): I TOLD YOU!