In person, Fairley speaks with the same deep, smoky tones with which Catelyn so often counsels war-leading son Robb, but she’s a lot more fun: wide-eyed and enthused, at one point she apologises for slapping our leg in a fit of laughter – “Oops, I shouldn’t have done that, you might charge me with sexual harassment!” It’s only when we cheekily ask her about details of season three that we get a flash of that trademark Winterfell sternness. “Life wouldn’t be worth living [if I told],” she says, eyeing the publicists in the room. “And I like living.”
What’s coming this year is just so … I mean, yikes. I am MADLY in love with Ciaran Hinds, so there’s that, and Riverrun, and Stannis and Davos, and Beric Dondarrion, and I forgot how fast the Jon & Ygritte storyline develops, and just how much is packed into this installment. We’re going to be scrambling to keep up.
WITH ALL THE AWESOME.