#sarcastic always laughing jaime lannister … with brienne he is still always laughing but it’s less severe 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

[swordmaid]

i really like the idea of brienne kissing jaime’s cheek…. Like that’s the current Jb Thought of the Day, brienne cupping jaime’s face and kissing him in the cheek I feel like that would be so Her because kissing him on the lips feels so scandalous even though she’s done it so many times. I also like the idea of brienne holding jaime’s face too, and jaime just instantly leans onto her head and nuzzles it like some little cat…. and he does it unknowingly ….🤭😭

[samirant]

Getting this juuuuust under the wire. HAPPY BIRTHDAY @naomignome!!!

Day 621

At the newest round of giggles down the hall, Brienne took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was the Thorn President-Elect, not their den mother. Their quiet study area on the second floor of the house, once filled end to end with studious sisters, had dwindled down to only her and a few others. Truth be told, Brienne was done with her exams, but was sticking around until their last member was finished, just in case of last minute nerves.

Most everyone else was packing up and blowing off steam. And giggling. A lot.

“Brienne,” someone hissed from down the hall. “Come look!”

She reluctantly got up, cast a glance around the room and decided that if they needed her, she wouldn’t be far. And if she was able to clear out the noisemakers? Bonus.

Elinor grabbed her hand once she came into view and pulled her to the front window. “Some Sigma got strapped in!” she gleefully reported.

“Really?” Brienne drew up to the glass and craned to see down the block, where a herd of guys in red shirts was lugging an item - well, a person - between them. She’d seen it a few times over the last couple of years, but while it was a… celebration of sorts, it wasn’t a dignified one.

Jaime and his cohorts had insisted it was a cherished tradition, but Brienne always thought it was a little mean to duct tape a newly engaged man to a slab of lumber and then cart him around campus before delivering him to his intended.

Okay, so it was a little funny.

Still mean, though.

Curious, Brienne squinted at the crowd of men and asked, “Who is it?”

“Can’t tell yet,” Meera replied. “Did you hear of anyone planning to pop the question?”

There was a chorus of no idea and I don’t think so’s and Myranda sniggered something about someone managing to get their MRS degree right under the wire. It was perhaps unkind to agree with her, but Brienne had seen a rash of quick engagements from other houses at the end of each semester and couldn’t necessarily say Myanda was wrong and then suddenly someone gave a muffled scream and another girl loudly shrieked and then, as one, every single sister on the landing turned in one direction.

Hers.

Brienne took a small step back, from them and from the procession that had made it to the Theta front lawn and stopped there. Her voice quavered to match how her knees had gone watery. “What?”

Wide eyes met hers for a solid two seconds, all of them frozen in place, and then Elinor trilled, “You and Jaime are ENGAGED?”

It broke the standstill and they descended on her from every angle, with demands for an explanation, calls of congratulations, some happy cries of I KNEW IT and more hugs than she’d received in the last six months combined, not counting from Jaime.

Jaime.

What.

The.

Fu-

“Jaime,” Brienne nearly shouted, and broke away from her ecstatic sisters and their pleas to see the ring. What ring?! she wanted to shout, but “I need to go check on Jaime” came out instead.

They stampeded down the stairs after her, but she legged it with a determination that had her first out the door, where she nearly slammed into Addam where he was about to knock and Brienne demanded, “What did you do?”

“Well, may I be the first to offer my congra-” Addam fell sideways into some shrubbery when Brienne elbowed him out of the way. Served him right.

“HEY!” came the loud cheer from her brother frat, with fists pumping in the air and a fair few jumping up and down, all of them surrounding Jaime, who hovered roughly a foot above everyone else due to the position they’d put him in. Duct taped him in. Same difference.

Jaime caught sight of her and wiggled in what would have been a frantic motion if he hadn’t been duct taped so securely. She couldn’t guess how many rolls they’d used, except that it was nearly from neck to toes, with tiny strips of his clothes peeking through where the tape didn’t completely overlap. His eyes were big and pleading and he would definitely have been giving her some sort of explanation if one large piece of silvery tape wasn’t keeping his mouth steadfastly shut.

Pod, not reading Brienne’s horror at all, dropped to one knee and held out a pair of scissors to her as the other boys yelled out Sigma! Theta! Sigma! Theta!, the cries taking on a higher pitch as the Thetas joined in and Brienne had to take yet another deep breath to skirt around all of them to get to Jaime and to slooooowly peel away the tape from his face.

“Jaime,” Brienne said as she did it, with a calm that unnerved even her. “What is this about?”

“Hell if I know, they jumped me out of nowhere,” Jaime rasped out and glared at everyone else. Raising his voice to be heard over the clamor, he asked, “Does anyone else want to explain?”

“You can’t be that pissed,” Addam said as he approached, brushing away leaves and twigs from his clothes. “You were the first one to break out the tape when it was Bronn’s turn.”

“That’s because he was actually engaged,” Jaime said in vicious, seething tones, enough to make everyone around him finally go silent.

Addam faltered and then waved his finger between the two of them. “You mean, you two aren’t…”

“No!” Jaime and Brienne retorted in exasperated tandem.

Whirling on Lancel, Addam said, “You told me they were!”

“You took his word for it?” If outright indignation were enough to break Jaime’s bindings, Lancel would have been in real trouble, but Jaime could only wiggle in place some more. “Lancel?”

“But you said so!” His cousin looked startled and skittered backwards when Brienne took a step towards him. “He did! Yesterday!”

“Well, that’s news to me!” Jaime thrashed around with little effect and Brienne returned to his side, carefully taking the scissors from Pod’s slack grip as she did.

“And me,” Brienne said as she started carefully snipping away. She had to set a hand on Jaime’s chest to make him stay still, continuing on when he did. It took more effort to ignore the assembly of friends encircling them, listening with rapt attention.

“Start running, Lancel,” Jaime ordered but Brienne fixed a glare on the Lannister cousin, freezing him in place.

“He did, though,” Lancel whined plaintively, apparently deciding Brienne was his last chance for refuge from Jaime’s anger. “Last night, we were all shooting the shit and I told him what my dad said and Jaime said it was true.”

“I said what?”

Brienne patted his chest and took another long breath. “Lancel?” she said as evenly as possible. “Explain.”

“Our dads were talking about all of us,” Lancel nervously began. “Uncle Tywin was telling my dad how much he likes you for Jaime, how you suit each other” - Jaime’s chest went still under her hand and then he moaned an almost indecipherable oh good gods - “and I told Jaime about that and he said-”

“I know what I said!” Jaime tried to interject, to no avail.

“-he said, ‘yeah, I’m going to marry that girl’,” Lancel finished triumphantly.

“Oh,” Brienne said. It came out far more softly than the blaring cacophony in her head. It came out again, without her say so. “Oh.”

Then she turned and focused on freeing Jaime, not looking him in the eye as he called Lancel an idiot with renewed passion.

“So you… didn’t propose?” Lancel backed away slowly.

“I think you just did it for me, thanks,” Jaime said sarcastically. He sounded like his first point of order would be to wrap his hands around his cousin’s neck but when Brienne finally let his hands loose, they fell to his sides and she could feel his eyes on her. “Brienne?”

“It was a misunderstanding, it’s fine,” she said quietly and started sawing away at another chunk of tape. Jaime reached out, his hands going over hers and he asked, somewhere past her, “Can we get some privacy, maybe?”

There were several awkward moments as most everyone found something better to do - and likely far away from Jaime’s retribution - but when it was discovered that the post Jaime was attached to still needed support to stay upright, Addam braved coming close and said, “I’ll hold it up, but I’m not even here, I swear.”

“Uh-huh,” Jaime muttered as Addam held his hands against the back of the post and then turned his head to stare in the opposite direction. When most everyone else scattered, Jaime looked back at her and said, “Sorry about all this.”

“Don’t apologize.” Brienne gave undue attention to where his shoulder was still strapped down. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jaime sighed. “Then why does it feel like I did?”

“Because it’s your family members that tend to do some real questionable shit?” Addam suggested.

“I’m sorry, I thought you weren’t here,” Jaime snarled over his shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry. Not here starting… now.”

Brienne laughed under her breath and put her forehead against the shoulder she freed and Jaime tilted his head down to rest on hers.

“This isn’t how I thought I’d ask,” Jaime murmured against her hair and Brienne was too overwhelmed to feel surprised anymore. She’d be a liar if she claimed she never thought of their future; surely Jaime had, too. “Thought it’d be a while from now. Less public, less telephone style through my dad and cousin and maybe less duct tape, too.”

“Well, good news,” Brienne said against his shirt, “you haven’t asked.”

“That’s true. I haven’t asked,” Jaime said and she felt him nudge his nose against her head and Brienne smiled as she tilted her face up. He kissed her, sweetly and with promise. “And you haven’t said no.”

“No,” Brienne replied. “It seems I haven’t.”

[iknownothingihearnothing]

Game of Thrones 8.2 “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms”

So, we’ve come to the “calm before the storm” episode.

Literally, I guess, considering winter is finally here. 

Taking bets now on who bites the big one in the Battle of Winterfell next week. A Stark is probably going to fall because it’s been quite a while since we lost one.

Sorry, Rickon.

Sansa is probably safe, since she’s not fighting, but GoT likes to fuck with us. I call 50/50 equally between Arya and Bran in Westerosi Woulette. If I had to pick one, I’d pick Bran because he is now a robot and Arya breaks my heart but...

As for the remaining players, well, Jaime always said he’d die in the arms of the woman he loved, and we all know he loves Brienne so it’d be a fitting end to his character arc. Started out as a Kingslayer, ended up dying fighting for his daughter in the arms of a woman he derided until now.

Lo how many of us would be so sad panda over the premature exit of Nickolaj Coster-Waldau from the show.

He could just as easily survive, tho! Remember, Maggy the Frog’s prediction was that one of Cersei’s brothers would kill her, and how boring and predictable would it be if it were Tyrion? Besides, he already slew Tywin.

That was only mentioned in the books, however, not on the series. Gah! All so complicated, this mythos.

Furthermore, Brienne could potentially fall in battle. Dany I see surviving just because she’s gotta kick Cersei’s butt. Or at least march on King’s Landing. Jon will probably make it, too. Gendry is up in the air.

Theon is probably a goner but we’ll see. There’s a spark of hope there. Please, for all that is holy, do not kill Tormund, he is our shining star.

Even his eyes are light.

Tormund, you are delightful. 

Which means of course he’s gonna die, oh Seven Hells. No one anyone actually likes lives on this show.

Alrighty, Thronesians, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty!

Last episode ended with Ser Jamie “Fuck You, Cersei” Lannister riding up into dat North on his horsey to fight for Team Alive, when, upon descending, his eyes settle upon...

You see that look on Jaime’s face? That is the look of someone who has just realized he is oh so much deeper shit than he initially anticipated. 

As the episode opens, Jaime is facing a trial at the Great Hall, not unlike the one Tyrion had back in season four following the Joff’s death (presumably this one won’t end with any squishing of heads...or will it?!). Daenerys is not amused. Jaime is, after all, the dude who stabbed her father in the back and slit his throat. That’s how he got his nickname, the Kingslayer. Mad King or not, Aerys was still her father and his death led to her family losing the Iron Throne after his most trusted advisor killed him and watched him bleed to death.

It’s kinda something a person holds a grudge against, you know?

(And if they all die soon, that grudge will still be there, I’ve seen it happen and so has Sarah Michelle Gellar)

Dany is all “Your sisbitch promised us an army, there ain’t no army, broseph” and Jaime’s like “There ain’t dat, Your Grace” and it’s the first time we’ve heard Jaime refer to anyone other than his sisterlover as that title. Grudging, maybe (there’s that word again) but if he wants to fight for Team Still Breathing, he’s gotta eat some crow. And we ain’t talking about the the fellows of the Night’s Watch.

That’s my favorite gym shirt. Whenever I get tired on the treadmill, I just look down at my shirt, and laugh. And also wish I’d worn a better sports bra. 

Jaime confesses she lied about sending the Lannister army North and that “we” are alone fighting the dead.. And Dany’s all “we”? And Jaime professes that he promises to fight for the living and he intends on keeping that promise. Tyrion tries to stand up for him, that he knows his brother, but Dany’s in NO mood after Tyrion’s repeated screw-ups--while Tyrion is quite the clever man, sometimes clever people can become cocky and that has seemed to have occurred with Dany’s Hand...a few times--and cuts in icily “Like you knew your sister?” Tyrion tries to reason that Jaime wouldn’t come here and put his ass on the line if he wasn’t serious. But Daenerys remains...unconvinced.

Dany has gone as icy as her hair. She is not okay with this. And right now, she has icicles for eyes. 

If she survives the Battle of Winterfell, she may not need her dragons. All she’ll need to take out Cersei is stare her down like that. Hell, I’m scared and I’ve already bent the knee. Don’t set me on fire, Dany. 

Sansa agrees with Dany for the first time since she arrived in Winterfell, throwing aside their little “I don’t like my brother’s new girlfriend even though she brought TWO ARMIES AND DRAGONS TO SAVE OUR FROZEN REAR ENDS” battle of wills. 

Sansa lists all the crappy shit Jaime’s done to her family and Jaime insists they were at war and he’d do it again. That is when BranBot babbles “The things I do for love”, echoing Jaime’s remarks from the pilot before he pushed Young Bran out the window but in a much less human, more Twilight Zone-y way.

Jaime:

Daenerys wonders why he has abandoned his House and family now and Jaime argues that this is above loyalty; this is about survival. That is when Brienne, the badass mofo, jumps to her feet and argues Jaime’s case. Ser Jaime is a man of honor who defended Brienne against men who tried to force themselves on her. He is the reason Sansa and Arya are alive, as he passed his oath to Catelyn to keep her daughters safe onto Brienne. Sansa nods and agrees he should stay, as she trusts Brienne with her life.

Dany asks how Jon feels about it, and he concedes that they need every man they can get. Dany, obviously reluctant, agrees with an icy “Very well”, and signals to Grey Worm to arm him. Which he does, but while giving Jaime this look:

Don’t cross Grey Worm. He’s lived through getting his junk sliced off. He will eff you up, he ain’t afraid of shit.

When the trial concedes, Dany rises and looks up at her new BF, but Jon quickly gets the hell out of there. While she stands there, confused, the rest of us watching are like--

We feel bad for Dany, and we also feel Jon/Aegon’s WTFery. He just found out he’s half-Targaryen, after all, and the woman he’s been Queening is his aunt. Jon loves her, and it’s not like he can ghost her. They’re fighting an epic battle in a day or two.

Brienne and Jaime catch eyes as they depart and we’re left to wonder if it’s simply two warriors’ mutual respect or Something More.

Tyrion, ever the faithful Hand, is beseeching Dany as she storms down the hall. He believed Cersei was sending an army; he’s either a traitor or a fool. Tyrion admits he was a fool, and not for the first time. Cersei is still sittin’ pretty (and batshit bananas) in King’s Landing and if he can’t help Dany take back the Iron Throne, she’ll find another Hand who can.

Yeah, Dany be pisssssssed. It probably doesn’t help that her boyfriend’s avoiding her and she has no idea why.

Oh, to be a woman in power.

Down in the Forge, Gendry’s makin’ weapons out of Dragonglass all sweaty and stuff and Arya seems to appreciate the view.

Well. ARE YA feelin’ the call of the wild, there, milady? ARE YA?

Once she’s done checking him out, Arya asks Gendry if he’s made her weapon yet. He says he will once he’s finished making a few thousand more of the Dragonglass knives. Arya then asks if Gendry’s ever faced a wight before, and what they’re like. She is patently not satisfied with his reply of “Really bad”. 

Gendry: “I know you’re not afraid of rapers or murderers or...but this is different. This is Death. You wanna know what they’re like? Death.”

Arya blinks, then picks up three of the Dragonglass weapons and nonchalantly hurls them into the wall behind Gendry. “I know Death. He has many faces.”

She asks about her weapon again, he promises to get right on it, and she leaves while Gendry stands there looking a combination of impressed, scared, and mildly turned on. 

In the Godswood, Bran is sitting beneath his massive tree when Jaime decides to work up the balls (You know, the ones that Varys doesn’t have, right, Tyrion?) to confront him and apologize for, IDKKKKKKKKKKK, pushing him out a window, crippling him, and leaving him for dead years earlier.

*da-dum. da-dum. dum dum dum dum dum dum*

Jaime doesn’t beat around the bush and instantly says sorry for what he did. BranBot is not angry. The fact is, if Jaime hadn’t have pushed him out of that window, he’d still be Brandon--

--Stark. 

Jaime, perplexed, is all, “You’re not?”, I guess thinking that Bran has been possessed but nah he is just “something else, now”. Bran Stark got an upgrade and he is now BranBot 2.0. 

Jaime asks why he didn’t tell anyone it was him. He replies that Jaime couldn’t help them win against the dead if he was killed horribly before the battle began which is a--

Then Jaime inquires about after and BranBot is all “How do you know there will be an after?” and Jaime’s like:

I’m gonna start collecting caps of Jaime just reacting to bad news. His faces are delightful.

In the courtyard, Tyrion and Jaime reunite, though it’s certainly not reminiscent of dem Stark feels; Lannisters don’t express emotion that way. Perhaps through goblets of wine and a sarcastic comment. 

Like Tyrion’s when three Northern men gathered above them literally spit at Jaime’s presence:

They walk talking about Daenerys for a bit--yes, she is different than her father; yes, Tyrion does believe in her--and bemoans that he overestimated Cersei’s claim that her new child “changed her”, which, of course, it has not. But no, she was not lying about that in particular. Jaime claims that she lied to everyone, him most of all, but Tyrion ain’t falling for it. “You always knew exactly who she was and you loved her anyway.”

Upstairs, they continue talking. Tyrion says idly that they’re going to die at Winterfell. It’s not the death Jaime would’ve chosen, nor Tyrion. Tyrion always wanted to die at eighty, with a belly full of wine and--Jaime repeats--a woman’s mouth around his cock. 

Ah, brothers. 

While Tyrion continues that at least he’ll get to deny Cersei the pleasure of killing him herself, Jaime walks to the edge of the balustrade and watches Brienne train Podrick. I don’t think I’m imagining the doofy little smile on his face.

Downstairs, Brienne is instructing Podrick on the follow-through with a fond smile on her face. The lady who didn’t need a squire has now grown pretty attached to him. Like a kitten you were forced to take care of.

Jaime shambles to her side and she confirms that she is commanding the left flank. They talk normally, weirdly normally, for a minute until Brienne’s all--

Brienne has had enough of this niceness nonsense. Jaime has never been in Brienne’s presence for this long without insulting her, not one damn time. Jaime asks her if he wants him to insult her, like maybe Brienne has a masochist kink we’re not aware of (why not? The dragons have a cuckold-mommy porn one), and she’s like:

And we at home watching are--

--cus she actually kinda does a little bit if she held this torch for Jaime this long knowing he kept lobbing insults at her like spitballs. And Brienne’s so shocked at this blatant display of Nice Jaime she goes like--

Just like us wominz, amirite? We only like guys when they’re assholes. He lost a hand for you! So unappreciative. Drop your sword fighting bizzness and get back in that kitchen! Make him a sammich with it.

(Just in case that wasn’t obvious; if I had a nickel for every person who misread my disdain, I’d at least be able to pay for my own Pac Man machine with them)

Elsewhere in Winterfell, Dany is gazing into the hearth, I guess because Ye Olde Westerosi Netflyxxe hasn’t been invented yet, when Jorah enters behind her and asks his Khaleesi to forgive him. He’s made lots of mistakes, that she has already pardoned him for, but he confesses that when he learned she made Tyrion her Hand instead of him, it broke his heart. She didn’t know she’d ever see him again, but Jorah insists she made the right choice. Though Jorah never thought much of Tyrion--the Seven Faced God knows he never shut up between Meereen and Volantis--but he has a clever, strategic mind, something Dany needs to win back the Iron Throne. She insists, with that scary AF icy stare, that he’s made mistakes, but, well, haven’t they all? And if Jorah would stick up for the dude who stole his position, Dany figures he’s got a point. 

And Jorah also has another request.

That second request is obviously “Get Sansa on your good side because we kinda have to stay here for a bit and the Northerners won’t trust you if she doesn’t”. So Dany goes to extend an olive branch to Sansa, and at first, it seems to be working. They bond over their shared history of family weirdness and being badass ladies who literally rule. “Who are doing a damn good job at it, as far as I can tell.”

But Dany has noticed that they’ve been at odds with each other, because of Jon? Sansa replies that men to dumbass things for women and they’re easily manipulated, but Dany’s here, having only knowing “Get the Iron Throne, damnit!” all her life, after meeting Jon, with two armies and dragons. Who manipulated whom? Sansa smiles and agrees, she should have thanked her when she arrived.

Logic, Sansa. It’s not just for the Vulkans, you know.

They gossip like girlfriends for a minute, even clasping hands over the table, until Sansa asks what’s gonna happen afterwards. If they defeat the dead, destroy Cersei? Dany will take the Iron Throne, but Sansa wants to know about the North. It was taken from them, they took it back, and they swore that they’d never bow to anyone ever again. 

Well. I guess Dany and Sansa aren’t gonna go shopping or getting mani/pedis together any time soon.

Their little “chat” is fortuitously interrupted by Lord Wolkan, who escorts Dany and Sansa to a newly arrived Theon. Bending the knee, Theon informs Dany that Yara has sailed to the Iron Islands to take them back in her name, but he came to Winterfell to fight for the living. Is...is everyone cool with that?

Sansa surely is.

If you remember, and if you don’t, you’d be forgiven because this show has more layers than an onion, Theon saved Sansa from Ramsay, altering her fate being stuck as Lady Bolton. But let’s be real: Theon doesn’t have much of a chance in Westerosi Woulette. 

In town, Davos is assuring a pants-shittingly terrified Northener, while ladling soup, that he’s a soldier now and if he, Davos, a man who had spent his life avoiding war, could survive some epic battles so could he. Oh, Davos may be a goner, too. He’s been bragging about his dumb luck too much and the Seven Faced God doesn’t like that.

A little girl named Teela wants to fight, too, like her brave brothers. But Gilly convinces her that she’d be relieved to have her down in the crypt protecting her and her son.

The horn sounds and the hunting party arrives back at Winterfell! Huzzah! Jon aims to greet Dolorous Edd but Tormund intercepts him with a bear hug and a “My little crow!” 

Oh, Tormund.

The Merry Men inform Jon that the Umbers are fighting for the Night King now. And so is anyone west of Winterfell, most like. The dead will be here before sun up. 

They’ll prepare. They’ll train until their knuckles bleed.

But first...

Tormund appreciates him a powerful lady.

On the outskirts, Jon narrates as our armies test out the many weapons created especially for this battle at the Forge. Including this awesome catapult:

Gonna save the motherfuckin’ day, yeah. 

In the war room, all our players are assembled. Jon and Sansa posit that the dead follow the Night King because he made them, so if he falls, they’ll be easier targets. Jon figures ol’ Nighty won’t be showing himself and he’ll stay hidden but BranBot negates that. He’ll come for BranBot, as he has come for many Three Eyed Ravens before him, because Nighty wants to erase the world and BranBot is its memory. 

Oh, BranBot. You make it too easy.

BranBot offers himself up as bait to lure in the Night King, and Theon in turn offers to protect him. Because he took the castle from him once and he’s gonna make up for that.

Tyrion also suggests joining Davos in fighting fire against ice, but Dany negates that. Though Tyrion has fought in battle before, Dany needs Tyrion for his mind if they all survive this. He needs to live and thus will be in the crypt with Sansa, Gilly, and Co. 

It’s kinda Dany’s way of saying “I know you fucked up in the past but I have faith in you as my Hand again...largely because Jorah gave me a stern talking-to.”

Then, they talk about the dragons. Should they be in the field or protecting BranBot? Would dragonfire work against the dead? They turn to BranBot, who seems to have all the answers, but not even Westeros’ answer to a SIM card knows. No one has tried in the past.

There’s a melancholy pause, like everyone at that damn table knows their fates are sealed. But Tormund, as always, prefers to look on the bright side:

Starting the #TormeoandBrienniet hashtag now.

Everybody begins to disperse. Dany looks at Jon expectantly but Jon only nods with a quick “Your Grace” and Dany’s left there like--

Dany may be in the race for the Iron Throne, First of her Name, Breaker of Chains, Queen of the Andals, whatever the hell, but she is still a young woman in her twenties with her second boyfriend after the premature loss of her Dothraki hubby (RIP Khal Drogo), and her second only love (sorry, Daario Naharis). Behind all those Targaryen walls, she’s still just a girl, confused why her boyfriend is being a dick. We’ve all been there.

After everyone else disperses, Tyrion turns to BranBot and comments that he’s had a “strange journey”. BranBot’s like “yeah, man”. Tyrion wants to hear all about it, and it’s a good thing they’re holed up in a vacancy in the middle of winter so he has plenty of time.

Outside, Grey Worm approaches Missandei. After Dany takes the Iron Throne, there won’t be much need for them. While he’s loyal to his Queen and will fight to the death for her, once her enemies are defeated, he wants to take Missandei and go...away. From the North, from K.L., from Westeros entirely, not that I blame him one iota. Missandei would like to go to the island of Naath, where she was born and raised before being kidnapped and made a slave. And Grey Worm promises to take her there, where he will protect her and her people.

Upstairs, Jon is commiserating with Sam that, no, he has not told Dany that, technically, they are related yet. But the important thing is we see a glimpse of Ghost for the first time since the end of season 6!

I hope Jon has many treats for Ghost. Are there any Ye Olde Westerosi Mylkbones?

Mr. Edd joins them on their watch. Jon suggests that Sam join Gilly and Little Sam in the crypt, but Sam wants to fight. After all, he was the first to kill a White Walker. He’s killed Thenns!

Mr. Edd: “Thenn.”

And Sam has stolen books from the Citadel. He is a rebel, damnit! Well, Mr. Edd muses out loud, if Samwell Tarly is a Slayer of White Walkers and a Lover of Ladies, now they know how fucked they are.

Inside, Jaime and Tyrion are staring at the hearth (that hearth is so entertaining!), Tyrion musing that he’d like to see his father’s face when he discovered that his two sons were about to die fighting to defend Winterfell. Tyrion remembers the first time they were here. Jaime was a golden lion and Tyrion was a whoremongerer. Correction: Jaime was sleeping with his sister, and Tyrion had one friend in the world who was sleeping with his sister. But Jaime’s golden lion days are dunzo, and Tyrion’s whoremongering ones are not an option anymore. 

Brienne and Podrick join them and, soon, so do Davos and Tormund. Tormund suggestively says to Brienne that this may be their last night alive and she stutters that she’s glad he’s here fighting with them and survived Eastwatch.

He then tells Jaime, the King Killer, about why he’s called Giantsbane. He killed a Giant when he was a lad, then got into bed with his wife, who thought he was her baby and suckled him to her breast for two months. 

Jaime:

They could not have died without knowing that Tormund fed from literal giant tiddies for two months.

Outside, Arya confronts the Hound, who offers her a drink (and is, at first, wigged out at how quiet she is). Why is he here? He’s never fought for anyone but himself, yet he joined the Brotherhood, and he went beyond the Wall to catch a wight with Jon. 

Beric Dondarrion soon joins them, addresses Arya as “my lady”, and begins babbling about the Lord of the Light. The Hound rolls his eyes and tells him the Lord of the Light would wonder why he brought him back all those times just for him to chuck Beric over this wall. The Hound passes him a drink and Arya begins to leave, throwing over her shoulder that she ain’t spending her last hours with “two miserable old shits”.

Ah, Arya. Never change. 

You know, if you survive tonight.

Instead, Arya goes off to practice shooting arrows when Gendry shows up with her freshly made weapon. First, they start talking about Melisandre, what she wanted with him, and he confesses to being Robert B’s bastard and she needed his blood for a spell. There were leeches and shit. 

Arya wonders if that was the first time he’d been with a woman, and when he protests (like no, having leeches all over your dick isn’t exactly a good time, or maybe it is for some people, I don’t know your life) she probes him further: has he been with loads of women in K.L. or what?

Gendry’s like “Uh yeah” and she asks how many. He buffs his knuckles on his chest, hi-fives someone off-camera, and replies “I didn’t keep count” and she calls bullshit. “One? Two? Twenty?”

And then this happens:

Arya can never be accused of not voicing exactly what--or in this case, who--she wants.

Get it, grrl!

Gendry looks both flabbergasted and delighted.

Arya demands Gendry take his bloody pants off because she’s in charge here, damnit. 

I read an interview Maisie Williams gave just after this episode aired of her reaction after she read that script. At first, she thought David and D.B. were joking, as they were wont to do, but when she realized they were srs, she about shat herself and wondered if she needed to go to the gym. Sophie Turner, her bestie, has been teasing her relentlessly. She just posted a video of herself saying Joe Dempsie “got that pussayyyyyyyy”. Must feel weird for him. He’s known her since she was a little-un and now he has to do that thing on camera with her. 

Around the hearth, our unlikely group of allies are still sitting around chatting. Tyrion comments on all the battles the people gathered here have survived. Ser Davos--the Battle of Blackwater and the Battle of the Bastards. Ser Jaime--fabled hero of the Siege of Pyke, fabled loser of the Battle of Whispering Wood (these are awesome battle names). Lady Brienne, who is not a Ser because women cannot be knights, defeated the Hound. Tormund scoffs to blast tradition! If he were king, he’d knight her ten times.

I’m sure he would.

But Jaime insists a king is not necessary; any knight can make another knight. So after some stubborn disbelief from Brienne--who claims she doesn’t even wanna be a knight, thanks, it’s cool, though we all know she totally does--the lady rises with an incredulous look on her face and kneels before Jaime while everyone else in the room watches.

Tapping his sword against her shoulders, Jaime recites:

In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave,

In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just,

In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent.

Then, she rises, a knight of the Seven Kingdoms.

The title of this episode both refers to Brienne and Jaime, methinks. 

Brienne could very well die in a few hours (sob) but at least she fulfilled her life’s wish--she became a knight.

Outside, Jorah and Lyanna Mormont are arguing. She fully intends to fight and he’s balking at the idea. She’s the future of their House, and she’d be safer in the crypt.

But Lyanna, that monument of badassery, is dressed up as a knight and has no inclination to hide in the crypt. She fought before; she can do it again. But she wishes her cousin good fortune in the battle to come.

Bad. Ass.

Sam appears with his family sword, Heartsbane. He wants to give it to Jorah to use in battle because lort knows he can’t wield it himself. Jorah’s father taught him how to be an honorable man, taught him what’s right, and Jorah will wield the sword in his name. 

Before Sam departs, he leaves Jorah with thus:

Inside Winterfell, our drunk allies have run out of wine (Lannisters without wine is like a car without an engine), so Tyrion suggests a sing-along. Unfortunately, neither Davos, Brienne, nor Tormund know any songs. (Lol could you imagine what Tormund would sing? It’d be something about giantess bewbies) But Podrick does.

I’m told that Florence + the Machine sing this song in the credits. But, yanno I’m Deaf Chick.

As the song plays, everyone is off doing their own thing. Sam, Gilly, and Little Sam are in bed. Sansa and Theon are outside playing a game and exchanging cow eyes.

This is why I think Theon has a wee chance. He could end up Sansa’s...well, Jon is the Warden of the North. Would he be...Lord Greyjoy? Lord Winterfell? Man...of Winterfell?

Arya is in bed with Gendry.

Grey Worm and Missandei kiss passionately before he goes off to join the rest of the Unsullied to prepare for battle.

Really. There is so much love in Winterfell tonight. Whether it be friendly, let’s get drunk together love, experimental love, burgeoning love, or desperate love. 

Who is not particularly feelin’ the love right now? Dany. So she goes to the crypt to confront Jon, who has been, to her, randomly ignoring her all day.

Jon is looking up at the sarcophagus of Lyanna Stark when Dany enters. When he sees her, he offers a pained smile, and she approaches with evident relief, but it obvs doesn’t last. Now is the time to tell her. She asks who he’s looking at, and when he tells her, she murmurs that she was told her brother was decent and kind, but he raped Lyanna, which we know is false. Jon corrects her; they loved each other and married in secret. When Rhaegar was killed, Lyanna had a son. Who was given to Lyanna’s brother on her deathbed, with a promise that he’d protect her son.

Dany’s face as she realizes Jon is talking about himself:

 He tells her his real name, Aegon Targaryen. She’s like “That’s impossible! Who told you this?” He says BranBot and Sam, the first who, er, :”saw” it with BranVision and the second who read about the marriage at the Citadel. At first, Dany tries to push the notion that the story could be made up, known as it is only by Jon’s brother and his bestie. But Jon knows deep in his gut that it’s true. 

Dany: If it is true, it’d make you the last male heir of House Targaryen. You’d have a claim on the Iron Throne.

Jon:

Jon is kinda freaked that Dany doesn’t seem to give a second’s thought to their being related and all. And she should know that he doesn’t want the Iron Throne. Like, at all. But I read an interview with Emilia Clarke that defended her character’s reaction. And it makes sense. Dany grew up in an incestuous environment. Hell, she was supposed to marry her own damn brother. But the Iron Throne...she’s been working for that her entire life, it’s all she knows, to get back what rightfully belongs to her House. And here is Jon coming out of left field and he has a claim on it and he doesn’t even want it!

Alas, they don’t have time to discuss their relationship. The White Walkers are a-comin’! A horn sounds and Dany and Jon race to the roof of Winterfell to join Tyrion. Battle is about to begin.

Indeed.

This episode was great! It really delved into the psyche of our favorites, explored where everyone’s at, allowed them to just be for a while before all hell breaks loose. It makes the inevitable deaths we fear on Sunday all the richer, and more painful. 

Aye. Sunday’s episode is gonna be epic. And terrible, in the best way.

[the-jade-cross]

The Lannister Wolf - Part 3 Chapter 3

“I still cannot believe that they haven’t tried to take you prisoner or kill you,” Jaime observed.

Evelyn shrugged as she sat before him, tending to his wounded arm, “They did, but failed.”

Jaime smirked weakly at her reply but hissed when she poured water over his wound.

“When we get to Harrenhal tomorrow, this needs to be tended to immediately.” Evelyn observed.

Jaime rolled his eyes, “I doubt Locke and his friends would allow their prisoner to get medical treatment, considering they either rape or remove a limb from their prisoners.”

“You know, your hand is not a limb. You still have the rest of your arm, “Evelyn observed. “I could have been worse.” “How?” Jaime snapped.

Brienne was about to scold Jaime for being rude when Jaime felt a chill run down his spine as the stranger looked at him from within the depths of her hood.

“Your head could have been removed,” Evelyn pointed out with a deadpan tone in her voice.

Jaime looked down, suddenly feeling guilty.

“The Kingslayer makes a valid point though,” Brienne intervened. “How will he get treatment when Locke will not even let him near the fire for warmth?”

Evelyn smiled and while the two couldn’t see it, they sensed mischief radiating off the mysterious stranger.

“Locke cannot deny you treatment if you aren’t his prisoners.”

Jaime frowned, “I doubt he is going to free us.” However, Brienne caught onto Evelyn’s plan. “You’re going to take us prisoner from him?”

Jaime’s eyes suddenly widened and he tried to scoot away from Evelyn, “Why would you want us as prisoners?”

Evelyn chuckled, “I have no need of prisoners, which is why I will set you free the moment you two are safe and cared for.” “but why?” Brienne insisted. “Why spend so much time and effort helping us, to not get anything in return?”

Evelyn smiled, “Closure. That’s what I get.” Brienne and Jaime looked at her confused, but Jaime yelped when Evelyn pulled him back in order to rebandage his hand.

“Though, if you do want to do something for me, you could relay the message.”

“TO whom?” Brienne asked, wholly intrigued.

Evelyn finished tying Jaime’s bandage and set about using the rag and water to clean off the mud and blood from his arms.

“Cersei Lannister. Tell her that I may not be the one to come and take her down but tell her that she will pay for the things she has done.” Jaime’s eyebrows shot up in amusement, “Why is it that my sister is on the top of every hit list?”

“Gee,” Evelyn observed sarcastically, “I wonder.” Brienne covered her mouth to hide her grin but Jaime noticed.

“At least there will be one person I’ll get to see when I get home who isn’t on a hit list or out to kill me.” The guy remarked.

“Who?” Brienne teased. “Your stable boy?”

“My wife,” Jaime snapped back defensively.

Evelyn felt her heart freeze. He didn’t know…. H didn’t know she ran…. He didn’t even know that she had been with child at the time she left…

“How long has it been since you were home Kingslayer?” Evelyn asked.

Jaime pursed his lips in thought, “Almost a year and a half…. Maybe twenty months.” Evelyn chuckled, “Your poor wife. I hope your sister didn’t try to do anything in those twenty months of absence.”

Jaime bit his lip, “Even if she did, I know Evelyn could take care of herself. She was always able to handle herself without me. Whatever she chose to do in my absence, I know it was the right thing to do.” Evelyn felt her heart skip a beat. Even after a year of being apart from her, after a year of being a prisoner of her brother, after losing his hand and dignity, he still trusted her.

Brienne seemed to notice Evelyn’s interest in the young Stark who had taken the name of Lannister. An interest in a girl she had never met, obviously something Brienne held in common with this stranger.

“it sounds like you love her a great deal,” Evelyn said at last, skillfully disguising the lump in her throat.

Jaime smiled, his eyes drifting into another world with a look of fondness in his eyes, “Aye, I love her more than anything.” Brienne noticed the way the stranger was totally absorbed in Jaime’s words and it confused her.

“I just hope that when I return, she will still love me,” Jaime whispered.

Evelyn smiled, “if this lady was able to make the Kingslayer’s heart skip a beat, I am sure she will love you till her dying breath.” Jaime smiled sadly before turning to look across the camp at where Locke and his men were watching them warily.

“That bracelet,” Brienne said, pointing to the bracelet on Evelyn’s wrist, the only form of jewelry that the stranger appeared to be wearing.

Evelyn looked down at what Brienne was referring to and smiled. “My brother gave it to me when I was but a child.” Jaime studied the bracelet and Evelyn was glad that she never wore it around him and had kept it hidden in her bags until the day she ran away, then she brought it out and hadn’t removed it since.

“Eve!” a ten-year-old Jon called out.

Evelyn turned to see Jon dragging himself through the knee-deep snow which, for little Jon who hadn’t yet hit his growth spurt, was closer to his mid thighs than his knees.

“What is it Jon?” Evelyn asked, sitting up from where she had been lying on her back on her and Jon’s thinking rock, leaving a print of her body in the snow.

Jon finally reached the thinking rock and climbed up to sit in front of Evelyn, “How in the world do you not freeze to death lying in the snow?” Evelyn shrugged, “Maybe I just have a warmer body than you.”

Jon nodded in agreement, shivering. Evelyn scooted over and quickly wrapped her arms around her brother, pulling him into her side and rubbing his arms to warm him up.

“What are you doing out here if you’re so cold?” she asked, blowing warm air on his bare hands to warm them.

“I wanted to give you something,” Jon replied. “I know your birthday was three weeks ago, but this took longer to make than I thought.”

The boy reached into his pocket and drew out a small brown leather pouch barely the size of his hand and placed it in Evelyn’s hands.

Evelyn slowly moved her hands to open the pouch and pulled out what appeared to be a bracelet. Made of pure silver, the top looked like a dragon’s head and from how hard Jon spent on the band part of the bracelet, it looked like he meant for it to look like the tail of a dragon.

“it’s beautiful!” Evelyn whisper yelled, admiring the hard work that her half-brother put into her gift.

“you like it!?” Jon asked, hardly believing his ears.

Evelyn smiled and wrapped her brother in a tight hug, “I love it! I will treasure this forever!”

******

“We may never see each other again,” Nanteza pointed out as she and Evelyn walked toward the stables where the hands had brought out their two horses.

Evelyn nodded as she took the reins of her furry brown horse while Nanteza was handed the reigns of a lovely white stallion.

“That is how life is isn’t it? You meet someone but then you never see them again,” Evelyn sighed. “One of the reasons why I hate traveling because I meet new people but when I return home, I never see them again.”

“Writing is also hard because I live in Dorne and you in Winterfell,” Nanteza sighed, gathering the reins of her horse and lifting herself on with the grace of a dancer.

Evelyn smiled as she lifted herself up, a little less graceful than the slender Dornish girl before turning to Nanteza. “It is just like what you told me last night when we slept in Maya’s room. If fate sees it fit that we meet again, we will run into each other.”

Nanteza smiled, “I truly hope so. You, Maya and Lillia are the best friends I have ever had… not many people want to be friends with a bastard.”

Reaching over, Evelyn patted Nanteza’s tanned hand, their difference in skin tones contrasting before Evelyn reached into her saddle bag and drew out something.

“Here, I want you to have this.” She said, holding something small out to Nanteza.

When the girl looked at the cold metal object in her palm, she saw that it was an arrowhead. Long and slender, not bold and large like a hunting arrow nor incredibly slender and cylinder shaped like a warrior’s arrow but unique and elegant, the two-pointed barbs swirled around the arrow shaft like spiral stairs before disappearing into the end of the arrow where it would attach to the wooden shaft.

“It’s beautiful,” Nanteza whispered, running her fingers over the razor-sharp tip.

“My brother Jon is teaching me how to work with metal and I wanted to design my own arrowheads so when I grow up, my arrowheads are completely different from everyone else’s. Sort of like my trademark!” Evelyn explained. “This is my favorite design. I want you to have it.”

Nanteza smiled, her cheeks heating up at the mention of Jon before she tucked the arrowhead into her pant pocket, “Thank you Eve. I’ll always keep it with me.”

“Hey Warlock,” Brienne whispered, snapping Evelyn out of her thoughts. “We’re here.”

Evelyn lifted her eyes to see that she had been riding on Chance next to Jaime and Brienne who were both hand bound to two separate horses, Jaime flopping forward from exhaustion. Turning to look at where they were headed, she saw that they were riding through the gates of Harrenhal. Good. As they pulled into the muddy, soiled town and Jaime and Brienne were brought from their horses. A man with short greying hair approached them and Locke spoke loudly.

“Lord Bolton, I give you the Kingslayer!” he said, moving to kick Jaime forward but suddenly felt his foot swinging out from under him, the wrong way and he splattered in the mud.

Several of his men tried to hold back their chuckles but when the townspeople laughed, everyone else joined in. Lord Bolton lifted his eyes to see the petite, but intimidating figure move from around the fallen Locke to stand directly behind Jaime and Brienne who were both bound. He had been planning on paying Locke and throwing the two prisoners in the dungeon but when the figure placed a gloved hand firmly on both Brienne and Jaime’s shoulders to offer them support, he reconsidered his actions.

“Who is this?” he asked Locke as the man climbed to his feet, coated in mud.

“Don’t know my lord,” Locke admitted, wiping mud from his face as he glared at the back of Evelyn’s head, “Just came on us in the woods. Threatened to kill us all if we did not bring the prisoners here to be treated for their wounds.”

Lord Bolton raised an eyebrow with interest before turning to Evelyn, taking a step forward but nothing more when he saw Evelyn remove her hand from Evelyn’s shoulder to touch the heavy iron bow on her back.

“Then perhaps you were not the one who brought in our guests,” Bolton said, turning to look at Locke, “Keep your mouth shut and get out of here before you regret living.”

Locke’s eyes widened in shock and scurried back, his men following him as Bolton turned his sights back on Evelyn who had released her bow slowly.

“I take it you want a reward for bringing in these two people?” Bolton asked her.

Evelyn shook her hooded and masked head once, “They are under my protection now. They need food and the Kingslayer needs treatment for his amputation.”

“Of course,” Bolton said, having rethought trying to negotiate with the person when he saw the way the person’s eyes never left his but was aware of all the people around her. “Find suitable rooms for our guests and see to it that they have treatment. We will take later.”

Bolton turned to leave, finding it rather uncomfortable being in the presence of the unnamed stranger when suddenly Jaime spoke, having weakly gotten to his feet.

“Lord Bolton.” He said, causing Bolton to turn to face them. “Any word from the Capitol?”

“You haven’t heard?” Bolton asked, furrowing his brow, “Stannis Baratheon laid siege to King’s Landing. Sailed into Blackwater Bay and stormed the gates with thousands of men… and your sister…”

Bolton, hoping to make Jaime writhe with fear (after all, how could he pass up the chance to belittle the Kingslayer), approached Jaime and spoke softly. “How can I put this. Your sister… is alive and well.”

Brienne frowned in confusion at Bolton’s sudden change in behavior, but then she saw the threatening, warning stance that the Warlock had taken and realized that Bolton had probably seen that and had rethought his last words.

“Your father’s forces prevailed.”

Just then, Jaime’s legs seemed to give out from exhaustion before Evelyn stepped forward and looped one of his arms around her neck.

“Ser Jaime is unwell,” Bolton said, “Take him to Qyburn.”

Three of his guards approached but when Evelyn gave them a piercing glare, they moved to help her but made sure to only touch Jaime enough to support him. Brienne was escorted to a room while Jaime was taken to the healer. Evelyn took Chance to the stables and instructed the stable boy to feed him and from the way the boy avoided looking at her, she knew that she wouldn’t have to worry about anyone mistreating or stealing Chance.

As she left the stables on her way to the healer’s, she spied Ace sitting on a pole nearby. Approaching him, she reached up and ruffled his horned feathers.

“How is Calum?” she whispered.

Ace cooed and the girl smiled. “Tell Zinzi and Lady to stay safe. If it feels dangerous, tell them to move. I’ll come back to you by tomorrow evening.”

The owl rubbed his head against her cheek before flying off. When Evelyn eventually found the healer’s hut, she entered to find the man sitting across from Jaime, unwinding the crude bandages from Jaime’s arm.

Both looked up when she entered, light flooding into the dark room before she closed the door.

“How is he?” she asked Qyburn who gave her a wary look.

“He’ll live. The corruption has spread, I fear it must be cut away. The safest course would be to take the whole arm off.” Qyburn explained.

“Then you’ll die,” Jaime warned. “You are no maester. Where’s your chain?”

Evelyn sighed as she searched through her bag for the thing she knew Jaime would need.

“The citadel stripped me of it. They found some of my experiments too bold,” Qyburn replied. “I can leave your upper arm, make the cut at your elbow.”

Just as those words left the man’s mouth, Jaime grabbed him by the neck with his good arm and squeezed, “I don’t need my right hand to kill you.”

“Ser Jaime,” Evelyn scolded, almost forgetting to disguise her voice. “Let him help.”

Jaime released the man and Qyburn continued. “I can take away the rotting flesh and try and burn out the corruption with boiling wine.”

Jaime nodded in satisfaction, humming at the suggestion.

“With any luck that will suffice but you will need milk of the poppy,” Qyburn told him.

Jaime shook his head violently, “No milk of the poppy.”

The man frowned, “There will be pain… quite a bit actually.”

“I’ll scream.” Jaime suggested.

Qyburn was about to argue further when Evelyn placed her gloved hand on his shoulder and she knelt before Jaime, holding out a small cup of water that had a pink tint to it.

“This will help with the pain,” she explained.

Jaime stared at the liquid skeptically, “What is it?”

“An herb smashed into a liquid,” Evelyn explained. “It was used in the olden days before Milk of the Poppy was discovered. It will numb your body long enough for the maester to fix you.”

Jaime went to object but was met by a pair of shadowed eyes, warning him to not argue and he took the glass, downing the liquid.

Evelyn nodded in satisfaction before turning to the maester who began to prepare his instruments, “I will wait outside.”

The maester nodded and Evelyn headed to the door but not before a weak hand gripped her wrist and she turned to see Jaime grabbing her wrist with his left hand.

“Do you think Evelyn will hate me when she sees what I have become?” he asked her.

Evelyn smiled, feeling tears prick her eyes and thanked the heavens for her hood and mask, “She loves you for who you are. Not for who you aren’t. I have a feeling she will love you even if you shaved all your hair.”

Jaime chuckled softly at the lighthearted tone in the Warlock’s voice and he smiled faintly before leaning back, feeling his body go numb, “Thank you.”

Evelyn smiled, knowing he didn’t see it before nodding and then exiting the building. Cersei Lannister was going to pay for splitting them apart!