[THE NORTH]
[Some men pull a large sled. The Night's Watch marches in single file.]
"He's not here yet. He'd have seen us, blown the horn."
"When will he come?"
"The Halfhand does things in his own time."
"Qhorin still lives?" Rickard asked with pleasant shock. He'd known the ranger for a long time now, having seen him a few times and even welcomed him at Winterfell.
"And still as savage" Ned chuckled. The man was a legend amongst the Night's Watch and something of a perfect example when it came to how a ranger should be. Ned knew Benjen looked up to the man.
"My uncle told me stories about him."
"Most of them are true."
"I heard the Halfhand spent half of last winter beyond the Wall."
"The whole winter. He was north of the Skirling Pass when the snow came. Had to wait for the thaw."
"He sounds like a capable man" Robert murmured. "Perhaps I can meet him sometime soon."
"I'm sure he can be arranged to be there when you bring aid to the Watch' Jon Arryn explained.
Robert nodded. He was more excited to meet this man than the aid if he were to be honest.
"So it is possible for someone to survive out here on their own."
"There are plenty of Wildlings who have done so no doubt" Oberyn Martell pointed out. "What is a Wildling If not a man like you and I?"
"I am like no Wildling, Prince Oberyn" Jon swelled as if insulted.
Oberyn chuckled at that.
"Perhaps not. You have had more comforts than one."
"Well, possible for the Halfhand."
"Beautiful, isn't it? Gilly would love it here."
"The boy's useless on the field. Should have left him at the Wall" Olenna grunted in displeasure. She could see why Randyll Tarly had sent this boy away.
"There's nothing more sickening than a man in love."
[A SNOWY CLIFFSIDE]
[One of the Night's Watch stands guard while the other sets up camp .]
"The Fist of the First Men. Think of how old this place is. Before the Targaryens defeated the Andals before the Andals took Westeros from the First Men. Thousands and thousands of years ago, the First Men stood here where we were standing all through the long night. What do you think they were like, the First Men?"
"Savage people who ruled by conquest than anything else for certain" Renly muttered.
"I think they were afraid. I think they came here to get away from something. And I don't think it worked."
"White Walkers" Jon muttered as the room grew even more sombre. Perhaps this was one of those strongholds the First Men used to fight the White Walkers.
[A horn sounds, and the men pause from their labour to see what is going on.]
"Wildlings?"
"One blast is for rangers returning. Wildlings is two blasts."
"So you got to stand there waiting, wondering. One blast for friends, two for foes."
"And be prepared for an attack" Brandon the Elder clicked his tongue.
"And three for White Walkers. It's been a thousand years, but that's the only time they blow the horn three times."
"But if it's been a thousand years, how do you know?"
"Well, I read it in a book."
"A book?" Jon Arryn's brows furrowed. "There are still books left of those things?"
"The Nights Watch may have them. I'm not certain about Winterfell, I'll have to look in the older parts of the library" Ned answered.
"Look. It's Qhorin Halfhand."
"Gods he's only gotten uglier" Brandon the Elder laughed in good humour.
"He looks like a warrior" Robert muttered with a small smile.
[KING'S LANDING, CELLAR]
[TYRION holds a pot of wildfire.]
"The substance burns so hot, it melts wood, stone, even steel, and, of course, flesh. The substance burns so hot, it melts flesh like tallow."
Jaime gripped her knee as memories came flooding back. He pursed his lips and tried to stop his inner turmoil from showing on his face.
He failed.
Both Joanna and Tyrion noticed the look on his face.
[TYRION hands the pot to HAYLENE, happy to give over the foul alchemy.]
"After the dragons died, wildfire was the key to the Targaryen power."
"Regrettably" Rhaegar muttered, remembering his father's affinity towards this substance quite well.
[BRONN scoffs]
"If I could tell you how many crazy old men I've seen pushing carts around army camps making grand claims about jars full of pig shit. No offence meant."
"HE says that while saying offensive things" Tyrion snorted.
"Our order does not deal in pig shit. The substance is fire given form. And we have been perfecting it since the days of Maegor."
"To do what?"
"The jars are put in catapults and flung at the enemy."
"How much do you have?"
[HAYLENE starts to lead the others through a door and darker catacombs. TYRION and BRONN follow.]
"If you could get real soldiers to man the catapults, then maybe you'd hit your target one time in ten, but all the real soldiers are in the Riverlands with your father."
"My lord, this man is insulting."
"Insulting but he speaks sense" Rhaegar muttered. One wrong move and things could turn deadly for the users.
"I don't know if you've ever seen a battle, old man, but things can get a bit messy. 'Cause when we're flinging things at Stannis, he's flinging them right back at us. Men die, men shit themselves, men run, which means pots falling, which means fire inside the walls, which means the poor cunts trying to defend the city end up burning it down."
"He would not dare insult my order whilst Aerys Targaryen lived."
"Well, he's not living anymore. And all his pots of wildfire didn't help him, did they?"
Jaime's right eye twitched slightly.
[HAYLENE forces open an ancient door. They enter a storeroom. TYRION is amazed at how much wildfire they have produced.]
"We have been working tirelessly, day and night, ever since your royal sister commanded us to do so. Our present count stands at 7,811. Enough to burn Stannis Baratheon's fleet and armies both."
"And then some" Rhaegar muttered darkly.
"This is a shit idea."
"I'm afraid I have to concur with my advisor, Wisdom Haylene. The contents of this room could lay King's Landing low. You won't be making wildfire for my sister any longer. You'll be making it for me."
"If you two worked together you'd make a better team than you alone" Joanna stated tiredly.
"If that ever happened, the sun would rise from the West!" Tyrion rolled his eyes.
[QARTH]
[DAENERYS TARGARYEN and DOREAH are on a balcony with DROGON.]
Rhaegar's foul mood passed over at the sight of the dragons. Dragons… he still couldn't believe his eyes.
"Dracarys. Dracarys."
[The dragon spits forth a small flame which cooks the raw meat before him. The women laugh and applaud. He eats]
"Oh good job, sister. You're training him well" Rhaegar complimented.
Daenerys smiled slightly at the compliment. Even she was struck with wonder and pride at seeing her successfully command the baby dragon.
"He'll be able to feed himself from now on."
[DOREAH reaches for DROGON.]
"I wouldn't do that if I were her. Dragons are not so fond of outsiders" Rhaegar warned.
Elia leaned over and whispered to him one word that made him blush.
"Nettles."
[DROGON climbs on DOREAH's hand.]
"He loves you. "
"Love might be a strong word" Elia murmured, smirking at her blushing husband.
"Did you see the dress Xaro had made for you? They say he's the wealthiest man in Qarth. And if Qarth is the wealthiest city in Essos-"
"The last time a rich man gave me a dress, he was selling me to Khal Drogo."
"You've become wary. Good" Doran said appreciatively.
Daenerys nodded.
"May he ride forever through the night lands."
"Xaro is our host, but we know nothing about him. Men like to talk about other men when they're happy."
"You would look like a real princess in Xaro's-"
"She's not a princess. She's a Khaleesi. You should wear it, Khaleesi."
"Your handmaiden might be infatuated with this Xaro. She might be a problem" Oberyn mused.
[All three are quiet in the awkward moment.]
[QARTH, GARDEN PARTY]
[DAENERYS mingles during an elegant garden party.]
"You do look like a Princess in that" Rhaegar complimented.
Daenerys ducked her head to hide her blush.
"And you must visit the night market. The Qartheen night market is like no night market you've ever seen."
"It sounds wonderful."
"The Meereenis think they have a night market. I will take you there myself."
"Please excuse me for a moment."
[DAENERYS joins SER JORAH MORMONT, who is speaking with two Dothraki.]
"Malakko says the statue is too heavy to carry. Kovarro says that Malakko is an idiot. They can pry out the gems, the rest is pure gold. Very soft. He can chop off as much as we can carry."
"Or melt it. Very simple."
"They're already thinking of looting the place" Robb snorted.
"They were born to be like this" Jon shrugged.
"Were they? Or were they raised to be like that?" Brandon the Elder asked.
"Why can't it be both?" Robb asked. "They were born expecting to be like that, and they were raised to be just that."
Brandon the Elder nodded with a small approved smile.
"We are his guests! You can't pry it or chop it or melt it."
"Of course not, Khaleesi! We will wait until we leave."
A few snorted at the reply.
"Not even when we leave."
"Why not?"
"Our host saved us from the Red Waste and you want to steal from him? I will hear no more."
[KOVARRO and MALAKKO exit. KOVARRO steals a goblet along the way.]
Some habits truly did not die no matter how much anyone tried.
" My brother used to say the only thing the Dothraki knew how to do was steal things better men have built."
"He wasn't wrong" Rhaegar muttered.
"It's not the only thing. They're quite good at killing the better men."
"So is he" Oberyn chuckled.
[PYATT PREE approaches them and bows.]
Varys grew stone-like at the sight of the man.
"What is that abomination?!" Margaery gasped.
"A Warlock, my Lady" Varys answered coldly.
"Mother of Dragons. On behalf of the warlocks of Qarth, I welcome you. A demonstration?"
[PYATT PREE offers his hand and DAENERYS takes it. He places a gem in her palm.]
"Take this gem. Look at it. Into its depths. So many facets. Look closely enough and you can see yourself in them. Often more than once."
[PYATT PREE looks over his shoulder to his doppelganger, who stands motionless. The crowd gasps.]
"Should you grow tired of Xaro's baubles and trinkets, it would be an honour to host you at the House of the Undying. You are always welcome, Mother of Dragons."
[PYATT PREE and his twin both leave. The crowd applauds at the illusion. XARO comes to DAENERYS's side from the crowd.]
"Princess, and everyone else, I must implore that none of you ever come in contact or speak to such abominations. They may come as allies, but let it be known that such men only look for their benefits and care little for your safety" Varys warned gravely.
The deep and cold tone from the Spider was enough to sow the seed of mistrust. The man never spoke like that.
"My apologies. Pyatt Pree is one of the Thirteen. It was customary for me to extend him an invitation. Customs die slow deaths in Qarth."
"What is the House of the Undying?"
"It is where the warlocks go to squint at dusty books and drink the shade of the evening. It turns their lips blue and their minds soft. So soft, they actually believe their parlour tricks are magic."
[XARO leads DAENERYS away, leaving JORAH behind. QUAITHE, a masked woman, talks to JORAH.]
"You watch over her."
"Do I know you?"
"I know you. Jorah Mormont of Bear Island. But she is the Mother of Dragons. She needs true protectors, now more than ever. They shall come day and night to see the wonder born into the world again. And when they see, they shall lust, for dragons are fire made flesh. And fire is power."
Brynden watched the scene curiously. There was something familiar about that woman.
[THE NORTH, WINTERFELL HALL]
[SER RODRIK CASSEL enters.]
"Lord Stark! Torrhen's Square is under siege."
Multiple sets of glares were pinned on the Gryejoy boy. They knew well enough that it was he who led his men there. The fucking turn cloak.
Bran on the other hand smiled at being referred to as Lord Stark. Just like his father.
"Torrhen's Square is barely forty leagues from here. How can the Lannisters strike so far north?"
"They don't know" Ned frowned. "If they've received word of an attack, surely there would be mention of who is attacking" he muttered.
"Perhaps they didn't have the time to write it?" Lyanna suggested.
Ned on the other hand had a different thought in mind, and he prayed that was not the case.
"Might be a raiding party led by the Mountain. Might be sellswords paid by Tywin Lannister."
"If it was the Mountain, here would be mention of the Moutain" Robb muttered. Even he was thinking how odd it was that there was no mention of who attacked.
"You think the raven is a trap?" Jon asked.
"No, Theon was pretty sure he'd attack" Robb muttered, his voice tightening when he said Theon's name.
"Most of the fighting men are away with Robb, but I can gather two hundred decent men.|
"Do you need so many?"
"If we can't protect our own bannermen, why should they protect us? Go, Ser Rodrik. Take the men you need."
"While I am proud that you're willing to help your bannermen, do not leave yourself unguarded" Rickard advised.
Bran nodded, silently angry at himself for disappointing someone.
[NORTH OF THE WALL]
[A winter storm howls as the Knight's Watchmen persevere.]
"A fire."
"There's a fire. The people sitting around it have better eyes than yours or mine. When they see us coming, that fire becomes a signal. Gives Mance Rayder plenty of time to throw a party in our honour."
The ones who had yet to taste battle or be present in the planning stages of it took note of what the Halfhand said. The Northerners respected the man, and those not from the North noted how he was respected by the North.
"How many wildlings have joined him?"
"From what we can tell, all of them. Mance has gathered them all like deer against the wolves. They're almost ready to make their move."
"The wonders the threat of an immortal army would do" Tyrio noted calmly. Internally he was not so calm. He imagined what a host that big could do against the armies of Westeros. The armies would win, of course, but not without casualty.
"Where?"
"Somewhere safe. Somewhere south. Can't just march into their midst. And we can't wait for them here with nothing but a pile of stones to protect us."
"You saying we should fall back to the Wall?"
"Mance was one of us once. Now he's one of them. He's going to teach them our way of doing things. They'll hit us in force and they won't run away when we hit back. They're gonna be more organized than before, more disciplined, more like us. So we need to be more like them and do things their way. Sneak in, kill Mance, and scatter them to the winds before they can march on the Wall. And to do that—"
"We need to get rid of those lookouts."
"It's not a job for 400 men. I need to move fast and silent. Harker, Stonesnake, Borba."
"Lord Commander, I'd like to join Lord Qhorin."
"I've been called lots of things, but that might be my first Lord Qhorin. You're a steward, Snow, not a ranger."
"I've fought and killed a wight. How many rangers can say that?"
"Your pride is showing. And not in a good way" Brandon the Elder chastised, making Jon lower his head with a blush.
"Aye. You killed a wight. You also let an old man beat you bloody and take your sword."
"And there it goes" Robb smirked, laughing when Jon glared at him.
"Craster? In the boy's defence, that's a tough old goat."
"I could take up Jon's duties while he's gone, my lord. It would be no trouble."
"Well, I hope you make a better ranger than you do a steward. Go on."
"He's just letting you go?" Robb asked in confusion.
Jon shrugged but he was grinning.
Over on another side, Lyanna watched with worry. Ranging was no easing thing and she'd already lost a brother to it. She didn't know what she'd do if she lost her son as well.
[XARO'S VAULT.]
[XARO strikes the door of the vault with a sword.]
"The door and the vault are made of Valyrian stone. The hardest steel does not make a mark. I offered the greatest locksmiths in Qarth their weight in gold if they could break into it. I made the same offer to the greatest thieves. They all went home empty-handed. The only thing that can open this door is this key."
"Rhaegar leaned forward with interest. Not even the capital had those, stones made by Valyrian magic. Such a security would work wonders if one could create such defences anymore. Sadly the knowledge passed away with the Valyrians during the Doom.
"And behind the door?"
[XARO chuckles]
"And it can all be mine?"
"Greedy" Oberyn teased.
"It was only a question" Daenerys huffed.
"All? Let us say half. More than enough to buy horses, ships, and armies. Enough to go home."
"All I have to do?"
"Is marry me."
"And there is why he vouched for you and your people" Elia muttered.
"And he's found a way to convince Daenerys as well. He's crafty and had great ambitions" Doran commented.
"That was a romantic proposal."
"I've already married once for love, but the gods stole her from me. I come from nothing. My mother and father never owned a pair of shoes. But marry me, and I will give you the Seven Kingdoms and our children will be princes and princesses."
"Tempting offer" Daenerys muttered. She jested of course. Seeing from this perspective, without the responsibility of people over her head, she could see that he was trying to play her.
[QARTH, DAENERYS'S CHAMBERS]
"If you cross the sea with an army you bought and a foreign husband who paid for it... "
"Ah, he told you" Oberyn noted with a hum.
"Perhaps to push me to accept his proposal" Daenerys added.
"Possibly."
"The Seven Kingdoms are at war with one another. Four false kings destroying the country."
"To win Westeros, you need support from Westeros."
"The usurper is dead."
"He may be dead, girl, but the majority still remember what your father was. They'll unite to end you before resuming their fight" Rickard stated coldly.
"I am aware" Daenerys muttered with a flinch.
[JORAH laughs]
"The Starks fight the Lannisters, and Baratheons fight each other."
"According to your new friend who earned your trust by cutting his hand?"
"The time to strike is now. We need to find ships and an army or we'll spend the rest of our lives rotting away at the edge of the world."
"Rich men do not become rich by giving more than they get. They'll give you ships and soldiers and they'll own you forever. Moving carefully is the hard way, but it's the right way."
"And if I'd listened to that advice outside the gates of Qarth, we'd all be dead by now."
"I know the opportunity before you seems like the last you'll ever have, but you must-"
"Do not speak to me like I'm a child."
"Technically you are a child" Rhaegar pointed out.
"I don't think any of them would be able to retain their childhood, my dear. They are adults and must be treated as such" Elia whispered to her husband, rubbing his arm gently.
Daenerys pursed her lips in silence.
"I only want-"
"What do you want? Tell me."
"To see you on the Iron Throne."
"Why?"
"You have a good claim. A title. A birthright. But you have something more than that. You may cover it up and deny it, but you have a gentle heart. You would not only be respected and feared, you would be loved. Someone who can rule and should rule. Centuries come and go without a person like that coming into the world. There are times when I look at you and I still can't believe you're real."
"He forgets that her family set many precedences that leave her with fewer rights to rule, and that is without counting the fact that Robert claimed the throne by conquest" Tyrion commented.
Daenerys looked at Elia with confusion.
"I will explain later" Elia promised her.
[HARRENHAL]
[A loud thud is heard, and a woman screams. ARYA rushes over to gold cloaks who surround a prone body.]
"Guards! Did you see anything? Go up there. Go and see where he fell from."
[ARYA looks down upon the twisted body of THE TICKLER. She looks up. ARYA spies JAQEN standing in the battlement above. He touches a finger beneath his eye. ARYA understands the gesture.]
"Odd how you gave the guy the name and he killed the man" Jon stated.
"How is it odd? He said he owed me so he was honour bound to do it" Arya muttered.
"Honour amongst criminals?"
"I don't know! That's the only explanation I have!" Arya huffed.
But even she was curious about it.
