No matter what the Rat Cook does, he’s always hungry.
Quick takes: I haven’t felt physically ill from reading a book in YEARS, but the descriptions of what happened to Robb Stark’s body did it for me. Seeing it was … let’s just say it was a good thing it had been a while since I’d eaten. I was right there with Arya, cheering her on. Stab him once for me, honey, because that guy was beyond gross.
DAVOS SEAWORTH IS MY HOMEBOY. God, I love him. He’s so good and loyal and true, and he can find his way through rocky shoals and safe to shore, always. A lot of people make idiot decisions in these books, and Davos is one of the few I feel like always does the right thing AND the smart thing both. The break in Stannis’s voice when he ordered Davos killed, the way he could barely spit the words out, nearly finished me, I swear. That hurt worse than the Red Wedding.
Please die, Walder Frey. When you have managed to gross out ROOSE BOLTON, it is time to take a bath and rethink your life strategy.
Speaking of dying, Balon Greyjoy. I was yelling and throwing pillows in the air for Asha. The actress playing her is not at all how I pictured her, and then she took her fastest ship, and her finest sailors, and her fiercest killers, and sailed forth to bring her brother home, and she was beautiful.
Hell yeah, Maester Aemon, about whom I could read a hundred books. I would watch the hell out of the Maester Aemon Hour in which he was just awesome to random people who wandered into his hearing. Send the ravens, send them all.
You know how long it’s been since we’ve seen Littlefinger? I almost forgot he existed. I love it. Maybe they decided that an episode with Varys and Roose Bolton’s Bastard had enough reasons to want to brillo-scrub your entire mind already, no need to introduce Lord Skeezy of the Scenery Chewage into it.
This was a lot of setup for next season: Joffrey’s wedding, Sansa’s marriage, Danaerys’s knights and their loyalties (can I pay someone to give Ser Barristan the Hot more than one line per episode, please?), and of course the Wall and all that is roaring up against it, the shield that guards the realms of men. This War of Five Kings is nothing, and a king protects his people, or he is no king at all.
No matter what you do, you’re always hungry.
Dany’s been chasing power since the day she was married to Khal Drogo, and had a taste of what it could be when you lead instead of being led. She struck the chains from her khalasar, lifted up the Unsullied, and now she challenges the Yunkish slaves to lift one another, and in return they hold her high, and carry her.
They are many, though, and she and her knights are few, and there are more slave cities to conquer. And in the distance, Westeros, calling her home.
Cersei wanted something all her own, a person who loved her completely, for who she was, not for what she could do or what she would buy him. Joffrey looked up at her from his cradle, and he was completely hers. Whatever bound them together is gone now, and she’ll burn the kingdom down looking for it, trying to get it back.
Tyrion is a Lannister, powerful and wealthy, and as Sansa Freaking Stark reminded him, really has no cause to feel sorry for himself. Except he keeps wanting his father to love him, and as horrible as Tywin is being, when somebody tells you they don’t love you, pretty much the only thing to do is believe them. No matter how many times the porcupine stings him, he just keeps poking it.
Sandor Clegane knows no one will ransom Arya now. Her mother and brother are dead. Her uncle is hostage. The only place he could take her is the Eyrie but a) miles away and b) Lysa is batshit crazy nuts. He draws his sword for her anyway, because as cruel as he can be, cruelty rouses him just the same.
He throws her on the back of his horse, and takes her to safety. I love him, and this is why: He keeps trying not to be a knight, but no matter what he does?
He’s always hungry.