Viserys limped into the daylight, his face a portrait of agony.

Khal Drogo appeared from amidst a group of men and stood before his Khaleesi, who dropped his head on the Khal's shoulder and wept.

"That bad?" he asked in his broken Common Tongue.

"Yes," he whimpered.

"Try again tomorrow?"

"I suppose so," Viserys said miserably.

Drogo patted Viserys's head and walked away to tend to his horse. Viserys wiped his nose with a sniff as a raven arrived on his shoulder, bearing a letter.

Must be for Jorah, he thought, relieving the bird of its burden. He missed Daenerys. He didn't know why, she was a brat most of the time, but he just did. She'd better not have been throwing herself into more fires, he thought.

He unrolled the letter and, after carefully avoiding the path of his torturous sister-in-law, he scanned its contents carefully.

He froze. Varys. He recognised that name.

Bring her to Winterfell. I will be there to meet you. Don't forget the dragon eggs: I have a little experiment for those.

Viserys paused.

"Khal Drogo!" he shouted.

Jaime paced around the main hall of the Eyrie, his hands behind his back. Tyrion watched him in relief: his sword in particular. He loved Jaime's sword. It was like a big brother to him.

"So what has my little brother done this time?" Jaime asked coldly, circling the Starks to face Lysa and Robin.

"He murdered my husband, primarily," she replied coldly. "And on a lesser note, he crippled Catelyn's son."

"Lesser note," muttered Catelyn reproachfully. "The man was as old as the hills anyway—"

"Did he?" Jaime interrupted in interest. "How did he manage that? The Stark boys are twice his height at least."

"Now I'm not an expert, but I would call that evidence," Tyrion pointed out.

"Silence, You," Lysa snapped. She turned her gaze to Jaime. "I suppose you're here to rescue him?"

"No, I'm just here to give him some clothes and a bite to eat," Jaime said sarcastically. "It can get cold up in those sky cells, and he'll go hungry."

"I wouldn't waste your food on that," Catelyn sniped at him. "Your sister wasn't so fussed about his wellbeing. She might not approve of you feeding an unwanted prisoner. You are just the queen's lapdog, aren't you?"

"Like Lord Stark is yours?" he retorted testily.

"No, lapdogs don't get told where to pee," Ned said sullenly.

Jaime laughed aloud at that.

"Go outside, Ned," Catelyn ordered.

"But it's cold out there—"

"Now!"

Ned gave a huff and left the room.

"And don't drag your feet like that!"

Ned sighed and lifted his knees emphatically as he walked out.

Jaime snickered. "I like him actually."

"So do I. Can we leave now?" Tyrion said boredly.

"Yes, of course," Lysa said sweetly, and she opened the Moon Door.

The ground beneath Jaime's feet began to shift and he quickly leapt out of the way as the centre of the room opened into the Moon Door: a gaping hole into misty oblivion.

"There are crimes to be answered for," Lysa continued snidely. "I suggest we let the new lord of the Eyrie decide the Lannister's fate."

"Can Jaime do a sword fight?" Robin asked, star struck. "I'm a huge fan."

Lysa dropped her head on her hand as Tyrion nodded emphatically. "Trial by combat. I like it. Who shall he fight?"

"Lord Stark," Lysa said decisively.

"No," Catelyn said sharply.

Lysa groaned.

"How about Catelyn?" Jaime asked amusedly. "She looks game for a thrashing."

"Yes, why not?" Lysa said evilly.

"No, she's boring," Robin said indifferently. "I want him to fight... Mummy."

Lysa gulped. "Why, sweetrobin?"

"Because if you lose, I can have Jaime as my new daddy," he said admirably.

Jaime smiled at the boy almost affectionately.

Catelyn smiled nefariously at Jaime. "He still breastfeeds, you know."

Jaime's smile melted from his face.

"Why don't we settle for a fight to the surrender?" Tyrion said uncomfortably. "The prospect of breastfeeding isn't much of an incentive to win."

"Oh, alright then," Robin said reluctantly. "So long as I get an autograph afterward. And Mummy gives me a frame to put it in."

"Yes, sweetrobin," she said gently, rolling her eyes.

Jaime smirked and laid a hand on his sword.

Only for Lysa to leap over the Moon Door.

"AAH!" screamed Jaime as Lysa landed on him, grabbing his arms and wrapping them around his head.

"She's a barbarian," Tyrion said in horror.

"That's why our mother died in childbirth," Catelyn informed him.

Jaime gasped as Lysa strangled him with his own arms, winding them around his neck like a bizarre neck scarf. His armour scraping piercingly and his legs flailing behind him, he squealed in pain and confusion as Lysa sat on his back and pulled his arms tighter.

"Surrender?" she snarled.

"I'd rather lose my sword hand," he snarled back.

"That can be arranged," she replied, and proceeded to bite Jaime's hand off.

Tyrion grimaced in sympathy as Robin jumped up and down in his seat excitedly.

"That's the left one, you mad cow!" Jaime shrieked.

"You'd love me to believe that, wouldn't you?" Lysa snarled, continuing to gnaw Jaime's left hand off.

"She's not very good with her lefts and rights," Catelyn said in reply to Tyrion's frown of bemusement.

"I see that," he said slowly.

Robin shrieked hysterically with laughter.

Jaime saw his opportunity and gasped theatrically insofar as he could with his own arms wrapped around his throat. "Your son! He's dying! Hear him screaming?"

Lysa gasped loudly and turned to face her son – only for Jaime to shove her out of the Moon Door.

Robin's screams turned to terror as Lysa tumbled towards the mist and just managed to grab the edge of the Moon Door as Jaime rose to his feet, cradling his shoulders.

"Surrender?" Jaime asked, holding his foot over the hand that gripped the door.

"Not bloody likely," Lysa snarled.

Jaime raised his foot.

"STOP!"

Everyone turned to the door.

"Let the Lannisters go," Ned said, breathing heavily.

"But what about—" Catelyn demanded.

"I have a new way of getting the girls back," Ned said triumphantly, and he stood away from the door.

Jon Snow stood in the doorway, a tiny black dragon in his hands.

Jorah searched the skies anxiously.

"I wondered when you would get here."

Jorah jumped and turned to face Varys. "How long have you been here?"

"Since I sent a raven to Vaes Dothrak," Varys replied, his hands behind his back and his bald head reddening in the cold. "That was less than two days ago. Why didn't you inform me that you had left early?"

"It was an instantaneous decision from Daenerys," he said apologetically. "I had no time to send a raven."

Varys narrowed his eyes. "And where is she now?"

"In the godswood, answering a call of nature."

Varys frowned. "In the godswood? Is that wise?"

"She claimed that's what the gods made it for. It's a luxury compared to Vaes Dothrak."

"That I can imagine." He jumped at the sound of a dragon shrieking from the godswood. "The rumours are true, then."

"Aye," Jorah said darkly. "The dragons have returned."

"You did try to keep them away from her, didn't you?"

"I could hardly do that, they were supposed to be her wedding present," Jorah said in an injured voice. "I don't know why everyone's blaming me, I didn't set them on fire."

Varys gave him a disapproving glance.

Meanwhile, in the godswood, Sam was hovering sheepishly by a tree as Daenerys hid behind it, her skirts around her waist.

"So," Sam began, "what will you name the dragons? Will you name them after the sacrifices you made to birth them?"

"No, I've forgotten their names. I think I'll name them after my brothers," she decided. "And Khal Drogo. Viserys will like that."

"Yes, I suppose he will." Sam paused. "How is he?"

"He's fine now... unless he's begun making their child with Drogo's sister. In which case, he's probably dead."

Sam laughed for a bit until he realised that she was serious.

"So, the dragons are Viserys—"

"Viserion," she corrected. "To avoid confusion."

"Right... Drogon?"

"Yes," she replied.

"And Rhaegon—"

"Hrrghnnn!"

"Your other brother was called Hrrghnnn?" Sam asked uncertainly.

"No, that was me taking a – I mean, yes, Rhaegon, yes," she said hurriedly.

"Oh, I see." He paused carefully. "So where is Jon with..."

"Drogon? He's gone to the Eyrie, to find his father," she replied, pulling up her breeches and dropping her skirts as she stood up. "Robb Stark informed us that he was accompanying his wife to imprison a Lannister at the Arryn household."

"Arryn? You don't mean..." He shuddered.

"Mmm," she agreed, emerging from behind the tree.

Suddenly they heard a shriek from the dragon cage. Dany frowned and knelt by the cage to peer inside. "They miss their brother," she observed. "And they're hungry."

"You can read their minds?" Sam asked incredulously.

"No, they're trying to eat each other and they want to see if eating Drogon might be easier to swallow. You'd better find them some food before they half each other."

San nodded eagerly and waddled off to find some meat.

"What is it?" she asked impatiently.

"Jorah," Sam said anxiously. "I've just overheard him talking about you to a bald man. He says he's taking you to King's Landing."

Dany gulped. "What do I do? I'd set a fire, but I used up my matches on the eggs."

Sam glanced at Winterfell. "We have to get into Winterfell."