[Scene opens to Bran in the courtyard of Winterfell shooting a bow as a raven flies in.]
"I'm walking?" Bran asked, half in confusion and half in hope.
"It could be a dream" Robb whispered to Jon, careful that Bran did not overhear him.
"Possibly" Jon nodded.
[As he approaches it, it flies into the crypt, continuously cawing. As Bran enters the crypt he makes direct eye contact with the raven and sees that it has three eyes. He wakes up. Theon enters just as he wakes up.]
Bran visibly deflated. It was just a dream. He was not going to walk again.
"You're seeing weird things in your dreams" Arya pointed out.
"Me walking again is not weird," Bran said heatedly.
"I meant the three-eyed raven" Arya rolled her eyes.
Bran rolled his eyes in reply.
[[Old Nan is sitting beside Bran's bed.]
"The little Lord's been dreaming again."
[Theon walks in.]
"We have visitors."
"I don't want to see anyone."
"Really? If I was cooped up all day with no one but this old bat for company, I'd go mad."
"Control your tongue, boy" Rickard snarled, grey eyes dark like a stormy sky. "She is as much part of Winterfell as us Starks, show her some respect or I will pull that tongue of yours out."
Theon nodded stiffly, looking away to scoff to himself. He was not afraid of dead Starks.
"Anyway, you don't have a choice. Robb's waiting."
"I don't want to go."
"Neither do I. But Robb's Lord of Winterfell, which means I do what he says and you do what I say. Hodor!
[Hodor enters, hoisting up Bran and carrying him away]
"Hodor" Lyanna smiled seeing her old friend, the mood from before lifting slightly. He looked to be in good health, something she was glad for.
"Help Bran down the hall."
[Tyrion standing in front of Robb and Maester Luwin inside the Winterfell castle.]
"I must say I received a slightly warmer welcome on my last visit."
"Any man of the Night's Watch is welcome at Winterfell."
"Any man of the Night's Watch, but not I, eh, boy?"
"I'm not your boy, Lannister. I'm Lord of Winterfell while my father is away."
"Robb" Ned's voice was stern, cold and held a bit of disappointment. "As Lord of Winterfell, you will extend your courtesy to any guest you welcome inside the castle. You will show them the same courtesy whether you like them or not. I taught you better."
"Yes Father, I'm sorry Father" Robb lowered his head. He hated disappointing his father.
"Then you might learn a lord's courtesy."
[Hodor enters carrying Bran.]
"So it's true. Hello Bran. Do you remember anything about what happened?"
"He has no memory of that day."
"Curious."
"Why are you here?"
"Would your charming companion be so kind as to kneel? My neck is beginning to hurt."
"Kneel, Hodor."
"Do you like to ride, Bran?"
"Yes. Well, I mean I did like to."
"The boy has lost the use of his legs."
"What of it? With the right horse and saddle, even a cripple can ride."
"I'm not a cripple."
"Then I'm not a dwarf. My father will rejoice to hear it."
"Do you have to drag your father into these things?" Joanna asked.
"I am only saying what is the truth, Mother. Father would rejoice if one day I woke up and I was not a dwarf" Tyrion answered with a smile.
Joanna shook her head with a sigh.
"I have a gift for you. Give that to your saddler. He'll provide the rest."
[Tyrion hands a roll of parchment to Maester Luwin.]
"You must shape the horse to the rider. Start with a yearling and teach it to respond to the reins and the boy's voice."
"Will I really be able to ride?"
"You will. On horseback, you will be as tall as any of them."
"Is this some kind of trick? Why do you want to help him?"
"I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards and broken things."
"You've done my brother a kindness. The hospitality of Winterfell is yours."
"Spare me your false courtesies, Lord Stark. There's a brothel outside your walls. There I'll find a bed and both of us can sleep easier."
"You have done my son a kindness" Ned Stark stood facing Tyrion Lannister, "for that, I am thankful to you" he lowered his head.
"Please lift your head, Lord Stark" Tyrion said with a tad bit of embarrassment, "think of it as my way of paying you back a little for the… crime my siblings have committed" Tyrion muttered.
Ned nodded his head and took his seat once more.
[Before Tyrion exits Winterfell for the brothel, Theon sees him off in the courtyard.]
"Come to see me off, Greyjoy? Kind of you. Your master doesn't seem to like Lannisters."
"He's not my master."
"Tyrion" Joanna looked at her with warning.
Tyrion rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I have not done it have I?"
"No, but you're very likely to do it, so I'm telling you to behave" Joanna argued.
"Yes Mother" Tyrion mumbled.
"No, of course not. What happened here? Where is Lady Stark? Why didn't she receive me?"
"She wasn't feeling well."
"She's not in Winterfell, is she? Where did she go?"
"My lady's whereabouts..."
"You're too easily riled and it ruins your composure" Brandon the elder clicked his tongue. "You need to control your emotions better, or anyone with a working mind can use it against you and the people you serve."
Theon grit his teeth, glaring down at his feet. Serve? What did he mean serve? The Starks held him as a prisoner for what his father tried to do. He served them because he had little choice.
"My lady? Your loyalty to your captors is touching."
"Captors?" Brandon raised an eyebrow, "Is he not fostering under you brother?"
"His father rebelled against the Crown. He is with Ned to keep his father in line, the man's last son" Robert explained instead.
"But he is a part of our family" Robb added with a smile, which dropped seeing the look on Theon's face.
"Tell me, how do you think Balon Greyjoy would feel if he could see his only surviving son has turned lackey?"
Theon grit his teeth, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping his knees. A gentle but rough hand patted his hand and he looked up to see his sister giving him a look.
"I have not turned lackey" Theon whispered to her harshly.
"Then stop acting offended at everything the imp is saying" Yara almost snapped whispering to him. "Control your emotions or you'll get washed away by it" she warned before pulling her hand away.
Theon stared at his feet, still gripping his knees.
"I still remember seeing my father's fleet burn in Lannisport. I believe your uncles were responsible?"
"Must have been a pretty sight."
"Nothing prettier than watching sailors burn alive. Yes, a great victory for your people. Shame how it all turned out."
"We were outnumbered 10 to one."
"A stupid rebellion then."
"It was," Yara said loud enough for Theon to hear.
The boy's head snapped towards her, making her roll her eyes.
"Father thought the realm broken, but how? Robert had the Stormslands, the North and the Vale under him. The Westerlands were tied to him by marriage and the Reach and Crownlands were doing everything to get on his good side. In what way was the Rebellion going to be a success?"
Seeing the lack of a response, Yara rolled her eyes.
"Father isn't infallible, and everything he says isn't some divine scripture either."
"The Iron Islands deserve their independence" Theon argued.
"Then he should have found a way to do it where it didn't outnumber us and get our brothers killed."
Theon looked back down and glared at his feet.
"I suppose your father realized that when your brothers died in battle. Now here you are, your enemy's squire.
"Careful, Imp."
"I've offended you. Forgive me, it's been a rough morning."
"He's not sorry at all" Jaime snorted.
[In the courtyard of Castle Black, Jon Snow is giving the group lessons in fighting. As Alliser marches in with a new recruit.]
"What in seven hells is that?"
"They'll need an eighth hell to fit him in."
"Oh poor Sam" Margaerys said with a sad smile. As the daughter of the Warden of The South, she knew every son of every Lord who visited Highgarden for one reason or the other. Sam was one of those that she genuinely liked.
"It was only a matter of time" Olenna shook her head. Randyl Tarly was a militaristic man and was not shy about showing his dislike for the boy who was his firstborn, who was gentle and kind like his mother.
"Who is he?" Arya questioned.
"Samwell Tarly. He's Lord Randyl Tarly's oldest" Margaery answered.
"Tell them your name."
"Samwell Tarly, of Horn Hill. I mean, I was of Horn Hill. I've come to take the black."
"Come to take the black pudding."
"They're all going to be very mean to him, aren't they" Sansa asked with pity. She didn't feel anything towards the boy, rather one could argue that she was quite repulsed by how fat the boy was. Still, she couldn't just stand by and watch someone get bullied.
Ironic for her, that was exactly what she did. Not that she realized it yet.
"Well, you couldn't be any worse than you look. See what he can do."
[Samwell is taken down almost immediately.]
"I yield. Please, no more."
"On your feet. Pick up your sword. Hit him till he finds his feet. It seems they've run short of poachers and thieves down south."
"Bloody hell" Renly rubbed his face. He wasn't that good with a sword in hand, but this was something else entirely.
"Wasn't he the heir of Hornhill? How is he this bad?" Stannis questioned.
"His mother coddled him and by nature, he's a gentle boy. He's always been a better reader than a fighter" Margaery explained.
"No wonder his father threw him to the Watch then" Rhaegar muttered. He knew Randyl Tarly. Samwell was lucky his father did not plan his assassination and make it look like an accident.
"Now they send us squealing bloody pigs. Again, harder."
"Enough! He yielded."
"Looks like the bastard's in love. All right then, lord Snow, you wish to defend your lady love, let's make it an exercise. You two. Three of you ought to be sufficient to make Lady Piggy squeal. All you've got to do is get past the bastard."
"He's being unnecessarily cruel" Elia frowned.
"I wouldn't say this is unnecessary" Doran spoke. "Ser Alliser is responsible for training the new recruits and preparing them for what's on the other side. The Wildlings are vicious fighters, they need to be ready for that. And for that, they need a stern hand to push them."
Elia's frown did not fall.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
[Alliser has the three guys attack Jon, trying to get to Sam, Jon successfully defends them all off.]
"No. Yield yield yield! I yield."
"We're done for today. Go clean the armoury. That's all you're good for."
"Well fought!"
"Piss off."
"Did he hurt you?"
"I've had worse."
"You can call me Sam... If you want. My mother calls me Sam."
"It's not going to get any easier, you know? You'll have to defend yourself."
"Why didn't you get up and fight?"
"I wanted to. I just couldn't."
"Why not?"
"I'm a coward. My father always says so."
"So he's a coward not because he feels it, but because his father says so" Renly mused, "sounds to me like what he needs is a bit more confidence in himself."
"Hard to have that with Randyl Tarly as a father. The man does not favour or value something if it does not add to the military prowess of his House. His sons are no exceptions" Margaery explained.
"Sons?"
"He has two. Samwell and Dickon. Dickon is a much better fighter than Samwell, probably why Lord Tarly had no issues sending his eldest to the Watch. He has another son to name as heir."
[Scene shifts to Daenerys and the horde who have arrived in the Dothraki homeland.]
"Vaes Dothrak. The city of the horse lords."
"A pile of mud. Mud and shit and twigs - best these savages can do."
"These are my people now. You shouldn't call them savages."
"I'll call them what I like because they're my people. This is my army. Khal Drogo is marching the wrong way with my army."
"Your brother is delusional if he thinks the Dothraki are now his" Oberyn snorted.
"He has always been spoilt as a child by father, because of the many miscarriages mother had after me. The sense of entitlement came from there, and it seems he never grows out of it" Rhaegar sighed in disappointment.
"If he doesn't reign it in soon, he is going to meet a sticky end" Doran mused out loud.
Daenerys, now sitting with her brother, wrung her hands nervously hearing Doran Martell.
[Viserys rides ahead.]
"If my brother was given an army of Dothraki, could you conquer the Seven Kingdoms?"
"The Dothraki have never crossed the Narrow Sea. They fear any water their horses can't drink."
"But if they did?"
"King Robert is fool enough to meet them in open battle,"
Robert narrowed his eyes at the screen.
"Remember the name for me, brother" he grunted to Stannis.
Stannis nodded.
"But the men advising him are different."
"And you know these men?"
"I fought beside them once, long ago. Now Ned Stark wants my head. He drove me from my land."
Ned Stark stared at the screen coolly.
"You sold slaves."
"Aye."
"Why?"
"I had no money and an expensive wife."
"And where is she now?"
"In another place, with another man."
"Serves him right for being a slaver" Myrcella mumbled, speaking for the first time but still to herself. Nobody had the right to enslave another human, no matter what the reason is.
"I do feel a little sorry for him" Shireen whispered to her cousin. "He loved her and did whatever he could for her."
"Still no excuse" Myrcella shook her head.
[Scene changes to the Small council meeting in King's Landing. Eddard dismisses the council, as they are all leaving, Ned stops Pycelle.]
"I've been hoping to talk to you about Jon Arryn."
"Lord Arryn? His death was a great sadness to all of us. I took personal charge of his care, but I could not save him. His sickness struck him very hard and very fast. I saw him in my chambers just the night before he passed. Lord Jon often came to me for counsel."
"Why?"
"I have been Grand Maester for many years. Kings and Hands have come to me for advice since..."
"Lord Stark perhaps you could use a lesson or two about tone and tact?" Olenna Tyrell suggested, making the Lord of Winterfell bristle.
"What did Jon want the night before he died?"
"He came inquiring after a book."
"A book? What book?"
"I fear it would be of little interest to you, my Lord. A ponderous tome."
"I'd like to read it."
[Now in Pycelle's room, he hands a book to Ned.]
"The lineages and histories of the great houses of the Seven Kingdoms, with descriptions of many high lords and noble ladies and their children."
Ned's eyes narrowed just slightly at the name of the book. What could Jon want with that book?
"Harkon Umber, first of his name, born to lord Hother Umber and Lady Amaryllis Umber in the 183rd year after Aegon's landing, at the last hearth. Blue of eye, brown of hair and fair complected, died in his 14th year of a wound sustained in a bear hunt."
Ned's eyes shifted to Jon Arryn, who was looking at Robert.
"As I said, my Lord, a ponderous read."
"Did Jon Arryn tell you what he wanted with it?"
"He did not, my Lord. And I did not presume to ask."
No, he was not looking at Robert, he was looking beyond the man.
"Jon's death..."
"Such a tragedy."
He was looking at the children sitting on Stannis' other side, Shireen Myrcella, and Tommen.
"Did he say anything to you during his final hours?"
"Nothing of import, my Lord. There was one phrase he kept repeating: "The seed is strong," I think it was."
Something inside of him just… clicked.