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[WINTERFELL]
"When my father told me we were marrying I half expected a fat, bearded beast. Do you know how pleased I was when I saw you? You've made me very happy."
[They start walking downstairs. SANSA grabs a cross in the snow before they leave.]
"Our scouts report that Stannis Baratheon rides for Winterfell. He's a respected commander. His troops are loyal and battle-tested. He's hired thousands of foreign sell swords to bolster his army. But this storm was a stroke of luck for us northerners. Our people are used to fighting in frost. His army's out there now, suffering in the snow."
"We stayed back too long" Stannis muttered. The Winter winds and the snow were always going to be his enemy...
"One day I'll be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. You'll be my Lady and Wardeness."
"Isn't Lady Bolton pregnant?" Shireen asked. "Would Ramsay still be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North if it's a boy?"
"He should not, unless Roose Bolton specifically names him as such" Stannis explained.
"The people would not accept a bastard as the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North" Shireen muttered. "The North already dislikes them, I don't think Roose Bolton would take that risk."
Stannis patted the girl on the head and smirked.
"What happens if Lady Bolton has a boy?"
"Then I'll have a baby brother."
"But he'll be the heir."
"I'm Lord Bolton's eldest son."
"But you're a bastard, a true born will always have the stronger claim."
[RAMSAY stops walking.]
"I've been naturalized by a royal decree of-"
"Tommen Baratheon. Another bastard."
"The girl has balls" Oberyn smirked. "Though she is playing a dangerous game. Ramsay is not someone who takes insults sitting."
"Ramsay will not risk flaying her until she gives him a son" Margaery pointed out. "But torture is not off the table, sadly."
"Which he is already putting her through" Oberyn added. "But it can always get worse."
"Of course, it can" Margaery mumbled. She did feel bad for the friend she made here.
"Bastards can rise high in the world. Like your half-brother Jon Snow. Born The Bastard of Winterfell, now the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. You didn't know? Yes, he's done very well for himself. Ah. I near forgot why I asked you to join me. Come, my lady."
[A little further Ramsay shows the woman who visited SANSA'S chamber previously is out in the open, flayed to death. REEK looks terrified.]
"Fuck!" Theon slammed his fist on the arm of his seat. His pathetic future self had no doubt told Ramsay about this woman. Why else would the vision show his terrified face?!
"Theon-"
"No! That thing disgusts me and you will let me express it" the boy spat, glaring at the form of his future self in the vision.
"Good. You should be disgusted" Yara muttered. Pity will get him nowhere, neither would depression. Only disgust at what he becomes would save him from that fate... and perhaps he'd learn something and not fuck things up for himself for a change.
[STANNIS' CAMP; STANNIS' TENT]
"40 horses died in the night. We'll lose more come sunset. We're running out of food. We can't open the supply line until the snow clears."
"What else?"
"The Stormcrows rode off last night."
[STANNIS removes a Baratheon piece from his chess board.]
"Five hundred men. Sell swords, loyal to nothing but gold."
"No good news then," Robert said grimly.
"Is it ever with him?" Renly muttered. "As if the gods themselves are foiling him one way or another."
Stannis grunted.
"We still have a hard march to Winterfell and we won't be marching anywhere in this weather. This isn't our time, we should head back to Castle Black when the snow clears."
"I retreated from King's Landing, Ser Davos. If I retreat again, I become The King Who Ran."
"Your Grace..."
"Winter is coming. Those aren't just the Stark words, it's a fact. If we march back to Castle Black, we are stuck during winter at Castle Black. And who can say how many years this winter will last?"
"Not ideal in any way" Doran muttered.
"It's better to wait for the right time than to risk everything."
"But wait too long and you lose everything regardless" Jon Arryn spoke. "The men need to know that they are fighting for a King who will fight and pave a way where there is none. Wait too long and they will lose heart and leave his cause."
"The only way to face adversity in war is to tackle it and cut it down" Robert muttered, flexing his hand. "There is no smart way around it, only dirty."
"Your Grace."
[DAVOS leaves and MELISANDRE approaches]
"I've trusted in your visions, in your prophecies for years."
"You saw it yourself, my king when you stared into the flames. A great battle in the snow."
"I don't know what I saw."
"You do know. Trust yourself."
"And you, do you trust yourself?"
"I trust in the Lord."
"Are you sure?"
"I have seen myself walk along the battlements of Winterfell. I have seen the flayed men's banners lowered to the ground."
"But did she see Stannis do it?" Renly asked. "Or did she see something further down the line and this is a wasted march."
Stannis frowned. It wasn't a bad question... Certainly something to ponder...
"But sometimes sacrifices must be made to ensure victory. I have shown you the power of king's blood. The Usurper Robb Stark. The Usurper Joffrey Baratheon."
"We don't have Robert's bastard here."
"No, we have someone better, and your blood runs through her veins."
"Absolutely not!" Stannis snapped, his eyes sharp and gaze piercing through the vision of the Red Witch, a protective arm around his daughter. The world may burn but he would never allow that woman to burn his daughter!
Shireen leaned into her father, wide-eyed and fearful about what the woman could do to her. Her father would protect her no matter what, she knew that for certain... but what if... what if that woman did something still?
[VOLANTIS; SLAVER'S AUCTION]
[The slaves are carried up to the auction stage. One of MALKO'S men whips TYRION.]
"Remember his face. I want him whipped" Tyrion muttered.
Jaime rolled his eyes.
"Good luck finding him."
"A rare find for the fighting pits, my friends. Not your usual street tough old drunken pirate. This one's a Westerosi knight from an ancient house, trained in sword and lance. He fought beside the Stag King Robert on the far side of the Narrow Sea. He was first from the breach during the siege of Pyke, slaughtering 50 men with his flaming sword."
"But... it wasn't him," Myrcella said with a frown. The flaming sword was exclusive to one man, Thoros of Myr.
"Lying to up the man's value no doubt" Joanna explained. "They are selling him, so the more he can add, the better price he'd be given for that man."
"But he's not a thing. He's a man!"
"To those people, he's as good as a thing."
Myrcella frowned.
"He killed the great Khal Drogo in single combat. Betrayed by his woman, he sold himself into slavery to repay his debts. Bidding begins at 12 gold honours... 13. Do I have 14... 15? 15 gold honours. Do I have 16?"
[A man in the front who has been studying JORAH intently raises his hand.]
"20."
"Sold!"
[JORAH is taken away.]
"Wait! You have to buy me as well."
"Why?"
"We're a team. I'm a great fighter, too."
[The crowd laughs. The man holding Tyrion's chains laughs at him. Tyrion yanks his chains, pulling the man to the ground, and starts beating on him with the chains as the crowd roars. Tyrion kicks him in the head and then looks to the buyer.]
"Not bad. Used the element of surprise quite well brother."
"Even an old dog can learn new tricks if under duress."
[He hands Malko coins.]
"My Lord, if I may. I've heard Mereen's become a free city. You might run into trouble if you try to fight slaves in the fighting pits. Now if you were to fight free men who were paid a wage..."
[The buyer hits TYRION in the mouth and then tosses him a few coins.]
"Remember his face?"
"If you would be so kind, brother..."