INTRO

3.1 EXT: WINTERFELL’S YARD – MORNING

Winterfell’s yard is a hive of activity. The process of scavenging Winterfell for her stone is well underway, the guard hall already down to its foundations and the kitchens not far behind. The salvaged stones are loaded onto carts and pulled by Dothraki-mounted horses through the gates to the cleared fields in front of Winterfell’s northern walls. Making his way to the castle library, TYRION has to weave his way through an obstacle course of men, horses, and piles of raw materials. Finding the entrance to the library blocked by a wagon, TYRION rounds the building’s corner and discovers an alternative means of access: the library’s entire western wall has been removed, its interior exposed like a modelmaker’s diorama. Stepping into the scene, TYRION discovers SAMWELL TARLY overseeing the labours of half-a-dozen Stark guards while simultaneously sorting books into separate piles, each pile taller and more precariously balanced than the last. He spots GILLY unloading books from an open crate and hurries over to interrupt and undo her efforts.

SAM

Those need to be kept in the crates; the moisture in the air will damage their pages otherwise.

GILLY

It’s too heavy, Sam!

SAM

Here, give me that.

SAM lifts the crate and hands it to an unimpressed Stark guard.

SAM [CONT’D]

Take these instead.

GILLY accepts the modest stack of books SAM delivers to her arms, but she doesn’t look best pleased as she exits.

SAM [CONT’D; PLACATINGLY]

Love you!

TYRION watches as SAM harries his helpers, handing off piles of books to be carried out to the wagon parked haphazardly across the library’s entrance. 

TYRION

I wanted to make sure the books would survive, even if the library does not. It seems they’re being well cared for.

SAM

I had to beg Lady Sansa to let me have one of the wagons traveling to White Harbour. I still don’t know how I’ll ever decide which books to leave behind.

Another Stark guard passes, carrying an enormous stack of books to the wagon.

SAM (CONT’D)

Wait, wait, hold on…

SAM rushes over and takes the top book, flicks through its pages.

SAM (CONT’D)

I think, maybe…yes, if I leave that one then there’s room for…

He removes the book from the guard’s stack, but quickly replaces it with three others.

SAM (CONT’D)

There, that should do it…

SAM (CONT’D; AFTER A PAUSE)

Actually…

S.E: Sam sorting books, subtracting one, adding three…

SAM (CONT’D)

Sorry.

The unamused guard departs and SAM returns to his sorting. TRYION strolls through the stacks.

TYRION

I never took the Starks for an especially studious family, but I see now I underestimated them. Last time I was here I gave their library only a cursory look and decided my time was better spent pursuing…

TYRION looks up and sees SAM’s sweet, innocent face staring back at him.

TYRION (CONT’D)

…other pleasures. I do recall there was a fire during our stay.

SAM

Between the fire and the Boltons, who knows what treasures we lost. We’re missing most of “R” through “T” I’m afraid, and there’s definitely gaps in the map collection.

TYRION [CHARMED]

I’m not sure I’ve ever actually heard anyone refer to books as “treasures”.

SAM

What better word is there? What’s more precious than knowledge? Of course, I’m not above a little fiction now and again.

TYRION

Have you read Coryanne Wylde’s A Wanton’s Tale?

SAM

Oh yes! Gilly had me read the whole series aloud to her. We –

Now it’s SAM’s turn to stop himself, but he cannot halt his blushes.

TYRION

We’re kindred spirits, you and I. All my life, books have been my most constant and faithful friends.

SAM

My father forbade me from reading after a while. He said reading was for women and eunuchs; real men spent their time hunting, fishing, or fighting. I’d sneak books out of the library and read them by candlelight when everyone was asleep. My sister used to tease me and say the only time I wasn’t eating was when I was reading, because I was too scared I’d spill something and stain the pages.

TYRION smiles and begins leafing at random through the books closest to hand.

TYRION

Have you discovered anything useful on our enemy?

SAM

Dragonglass I got from a book in the Citadel. The Land of Always Winter was mentioned in half a dozen histories of the Long Night I found in the library at Castle Black.

TYRION

Anything that might save Jon and Daenerys a trip?

SAM

I’m afraid not.

TYRION

There’s a book I bought from a traveling merchant years ago that devoted whole chapters to the White Walkers. Tales of the Dead?

SAM

Passages of the Dead?

TYRION

That was it!

SAM

Maester Kennett. Nothing but vague allusions and half-remembered rumour, I’m afraid.

TYRION

What about Archmaester Harmune’s Watchers on the Wall? I recall seeing a copy at Castle Black.

SAM

Just a list of names and dates, really.

TYRION

Hardhome: An Account of Three Years Spent Beyond-the-Wall among –

SAM (INTERRUPTING)

Among Savages, Raiders and Wood-Witches. It was one of the first places I looked. After I read everything I could find on the White Walkers and the Long Night, I started reading histories on the North, then Westeros in general, then I went back to the Long Night but this time included the more patchwork accounts, thinking there might be a kernel of truth in details that recurred across texts. Lately I’ve been working my way through anything at all to do with the fantastical or unexplained. Hermon on Asshai-By-The-Shadow; The Red Book; Annals of the Black Centuar; Vaggoro’s Ruined Cities, Stolen Gods... I thought I might finally have found something useful when I came across a moth-eaten copy of Maester Vanyon’s Against The Unnatural, but it turned out to just be a very misinformed and decidedly hateful screed against same-sex relations.

S.E: falling book.

A Stark guard drops a book from the pile he is transporting.

SAM

Careful! Ed, will you tell them to please be careful!

Back in the shadowy recesses of the library, ED’s head pops up from among the piles of books like an especially miserable meerkat.

ED

When has anyone ever listened to me?

TYRION retrieves the fallen book from the ground and inspects its cover.

TYRION

The Lives of Four Kings by Grandmaester Kaeth. I once gave this as a wedding gift.

SAM

Oh, that’s one of my favourites. I hope they appreciated it?

TYRION

Not particularly.

TYRION moves to another stack and runs his fingers over an open page and the dragon illustrated thereon.

TYRION

I must have read everything ever written about Dragons.

SAM

At the Citadel I got to read the original Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns.

TYRION

No!

SAM

Oh, yes! Written in Septon Barth’s own hand. I say “read”, I wasn’t actually allowed in that part of the library, but I did see it once on a shelf, over someone’s shoulder, before the door closed all the way.

ED staggers past bearing a teetering stack of books. Bumping into the table, he knocks a dozen books scattering to the ground, managing to drop his own stack in the process.

SAM

For fuck’s sake, Ed!

ED

Calm down! I don’t know why you’re getting so emotional about a bunch of old books.

SAM hurries to gather up all the dropped books, replacing them in the arms of a bemused ED as he goes.

SAM

Can you not see, Ed?! If we didn’t have these books, everything inside them would be lost. All our history, our culture, all the stories that tie us all together…pages and pages on how people lived and who they loved and how, all the things that we write down so they’ll be here long after we’re dead and buried…it would be like none of them, none of us, ever even existed. Can you really not see how important it is that we don’t let that happen?

SAM finally takes a breath and faces ED, only to find his friend obscured behind the pile of books with which SAM has burdened him. SAM delicately places the last book on the top.

ED

I’ll put these with the others then, shall I?

ED and his tower of books stagger away. SAM grins at TYRION, embarrassed by his little outburst. TRYION flicks through a smaller pile of books, set off to one side. His interest is piqued.

TYRION

What about these?

SAM

Oh, those. They…that is to say…I…borrowed those from the Citadel.

TYRION

I wasn’t aware the Citadel allowed their books to be…”borrowed”?

SAM

Alright, I stole them. I went to the Citadel hoping to learn something that could help us against the Night King, but instead I spent my days serving porridge and emptying chamber pots. Only Maesters can access the really valuable materials, so I decided to…expedite my studies.

Flicking though the pages idly, half-reading and half-listening to SAM, TYRION stops suddenly, then turns back a page.

TYRION

Is this High Valyrian?

SAM [LOOKING]

I thought it might be. I don’t speak a word, unfortunately.

TYRION

I only have a little, but I’m almost certain these words here translate as “battle for the dawn.” Or perhaps “battle for the light”, or “war for the light”, maybe?

SAM

Sounds promising. If only we knew someone with a head for languages.

3.2 INT: MISSANDEI’S CHAMBERS – MORNING

SAM

How can anyone speak nineteen languages?! You must have had a remarkable teacher.

Standing at the window of MISSANDEI’s modest room, TYRION smiles at SAM’s guileless wonder.

MISSANDEI

Remarkable indeed. My master would stand over us with a whip as we drilled our irregular verbs. You’d be amazed how well you can retain information when given sufficient incentive.

TYRION

Missandei was sold into slavery as a child. She was serving as a translator in Astapor before joining our Queen’s cause.

MISSANDEI

Before our Queen liberated me from bondage.

TYRION nods in apology.

SAM

I’m sorry. I didn’t know.

MISSANDEI

Then you have nothing for which to apologise. Unlike my former master, I believe only wilful ignorance deserves censure, not ignorance innocently come by.

SAM [UNSURE]

Thank you?

TYRION

We hoped you might turn your talents to a particular passage in this book.

MISSANDEI takes the book, scans the cover, checks the inside page.

MISSANDEI

There’s no title. No author.

SAM

It’s a diary of some kind, I think. Perhaps belonging to a Maester of the Citadel?

TYRION

In truth, we don’t know where it came from originally, though the script looks High Valyrian.

MISSANDEI

Not quite. It appears to be a variation, a regional dialect, perhaps, though not one I recognise. I certainly doubt the author was a Maester: the grammar is atrocious, so they almost certainly possessed no formal education in the language.

TYRION

Can you translate?

MISSANDEI

Inexactly, but I should be able to infer their meaning. Let’s see…“And so he shall come forth, a shadow”…no, a darkness…”a darkness over the world, borne of an unnatural birth” – unnatural as it’s used here could mean any number of things: remarkable, supernatural, unexpected…it might even be more literal than that, perhaps something strange or unusual in the weather. “This I have seen. And he shall ride…”…it doesn’t really make sense, just a lot of abstractions and muddled syntax. Something about death riding the wind, but also death is the wind…From this same darkness shall come a warrior”…a champion, maybe…”so shall come a champion to…to destroy…to dispel”…it’s unclear, but essentially a champion will rise and defeat death. It says this champion will be born twice over, and will come to be known as the “prince that is promised”.

TYRION

“The prince that is promised”. Where have I heard that before?

MISSANDEI

On Dragonstone, from the Red Woman Melisandre.

TYRION

She said there was a prophecy, that this prince was foretold to hold back the Long Night and bring forth the dawn.

MISSANDEI

I think this makes sense now: “he shall come forth”…death riding death…that can only mean the Night King and Viserion.

TYRION

“Borne of an unnatural birth.”

SAM

The Night King wasn’t born, not like you or I. He was created, by the Children of the Forest. It doesn’t get much more unnatural than that.

MISSANDEI

And the champion born twice over can only be Daenerys, first to her mother and then again when she emerged unburned from the flames that hatched her dragons. This is a book of prophecy: Daenerys is destined to defeat the Night King!

SAM

But you said “prince” that was promised. Daenerys isn’t a prince.

TYRION

There is no gender in High Valyrion. It could just as readily mean “the princess that was promised.”

MISSANDEI [IMPRESSED AT HIS RECALL]

Very good, My Lord.

SAM

Does it tell us anything about how Daenerys will defeat the Night King?

S.E: rustling pages.

MISSANDEI

Not that I can see, no. If I could spend some time with it, perhaps I could discover more, but it will be a slow process.

TYRION

We have Bran searching through time, Jon and Daenerys searching north of the Wall, and now Missandei searching the scribblings of some long-dead anonymous seer. If we fail to discover the secret to defeating the Night King, it certainly won’t be for lack of trying. Thank you, Missandei.

TYRION follows SAM to the door.

MISSANDEI

Lord Tyrion? Might we speak a moment.

3.3 EXT: WINTERFELL’S YARD – MORNING

S.E: swords clashing.

Needle in hand, ARYA circles YELLOW BEETLE. GREY WORM and a clutch of Unsullied watch from a slight remove; PODRICK and BRIENNE have halted PODRICK’s lessons and joined the audience. YELLOW BEETLE rushes at ARYA, swinging his blade expertly, but ARYA skips away and launches her own attack. YELLOW BEETLE is soon on his back, Needle at his throat. ARYA lowers her sword and helps YELLOW BEETLE to his feet, and he tags in GREEN TICK. Within seconds, he too is defeated. ARYA slides needle into her belt.

ARYA

I’ll take Blue Rat, Blue Flea, and Yellow Beetle.

GREY WORM

As you wish.

ARYA

And Green Cricket.

GREY WORM

He you cannot have. He is my most quick blade.

ARYA

That’s why I want him.

GREY WORM

Pick another.

ARYA

I’ll fight you for him.

GREY WORM [AFTER A PAUSE]

Spears and shields?

ARYA

Sword and dagger.

GREY WORM glances at the eavesdropping PODRICK and BRIENNE.

GREY WORM

Fine. You can have Green Cricket.

ARYA nods and walks away. GREY WORM catches PODRICK’s smirk.

GREY WORM

She is the sister of Jon Snow. My Queen would not be pleased to see her harmed.

A few feet away, ARYA dispenses instructions to her chosen Unsullied.

ARYA

See Gendry at the armoury and he’ll equip you with dragonglass weapons. Nothing that slows you down, nothing you can’t wear on your belt.

The Unsullied move off towards the armoury. ARYA turns to find herself under close observation.

ARYA [CONT’D]

You’re Lady Greyjoy.

YARA

I am.

ARYA

Do you really mean to sail the women and children to safety?

YARA

If it comes to that.

ARYA

Just like Princess Nymeria after the Rhoyne fell to Old Valyria.

YARA

A great woman. A great warrior. A particular hero of mine.

ARYA

Mine too.

They take a moment to size one another up. YARA nods at Needle.

YARA

The Unsullied have quite the reputation; you must be half-warrior yourself. Have you ever been to sea?

ARYA

Once or twice.

YARA

I’m always looking for good crew. It’s a hard life, but there’s always room for advancement. Show me you deserve it and you can be captain of your own ship before too long.

ARYA

I don’t care about rank.

YARA

The pays not regular, but board the right ships and raid the right villages and you can make yourself a small fortune.

ARYA

I’m not interested in gold.

YARA

What are you interested in?

ARYA

I want to see the world. I want to go places nobody has ever been before. I want –

YARA (INTERRUPTING)

You want adventure.

ARYA simply nods.

YARA (CONT’D)

If you’re still alive after all this, come find me. I’ll give you your adventure.

S.E: excited crowd noises.

ARYA’s and YARA’s attention is distracted by a commotion of bodies and excited chatter at Winterfell’s gates.

YARA

Is something happening?

3.4 INT: SANSA’S CHAMBERS - MORNING

S.E: knocking.

SANSA

Come in.

TYRION pokes his head into Sansa’s chambers.

TYRION

You’re busy. I’ll come back…

TYRION’s head retreats from view.

SANSA

Tyrion!

TYRION’s head reappears.

SANSA

Please, take a seat.

Reluctantly, with the hesitancy of a truant summoned before the headmaster, TYRION does as he’s bid. 

TYRION [TENTATIVE]

It’s rather a sensitive matter. It’s about your family crypt.

SANSA

What about it?

TYRION

We’re preparing to face an enemy capable of raising the dead.

SANSA

And we’re building our defences on top of a graveyard. Yes, the thought had occurred to me.

TYRION

We cannot defeat the Night King’s forces on two fronts. If he raises a second army to attack us in the rear while we’re fighting the first, we’ll be overrun and the battle lost.

SANSA

I’ve allowed you to tear down half of Winterfell, but I draw the line at digging up my family’s bones.

TYRION

I thought that might be your reaction. So, I prepared an alternative solution.

3.5 EXT: WINTERFELL’S YARD - MORNING

TYRION leads SANSA to the entrance of her family crypt. Several Dothraki busy themselves unloading stones from a cart hitched to a Dothraki mount, ready for the entrance to be sealed up.

TYRION

Maester Wolkan has kindly offered to oversee the project. If the Night King should raise your forebears from the grave, they won’t have anyone but the rats to feed on.

SANSA [TOUCHED]

Thank you, Tyrion. For your consideration.

S.E: animated crowd noises.

SANSA looks to TYRION, but finds her own confusion reflected back at her.

3.6 INT: DAENERYS’ CHAMBERS – MORNING

DAENERYS stands at her window, though her gaze seems fixed on something far beyond the distant horizon. Her eyes carry heavy black bags, and she’s still dressed in the robe she threw on the previous evening. JORAH sits by the fireplace, his face similarly showing the strain of a long, sleepless night.

DAENERYS

This can’t be real.

JORAH

No less real than it was before the sun rose this morning.

DAENERYS

Walk me through it again. You’re certain Sam was telling you the truth?

JORAH

Sam is an honest man, Khaleesi. Even if he weren’t, I can think of no benefit to his lying to me.

DAENERYS

And who else knows about this?

JORAH

Again, Khaleesi, as far as I can tell, only Jon’s brother Bran. Or rather his cousin Bran, I suppose.

DAENERYS

But not Jon himself?

JORAH

Sam wanted my opinion on how you would react before he went to Jon.

DAENERYS

So Sansa doesn’t know either?

JORAH

Not yet, Your Grace. But once Jon is told, I have to believe it’s only a matter of time.

JORAH stands and stretches with a grimace.

JORAH [CONT’D]

We must leave this room, Khaleesi. You’ve already sent Missandei away once; if you don’t make an appearance soon, people will start asking why.

DAENERYS [AS THOUGH SHE HASN’T HEARD]

If Jon really is Rhaegar’s son, that would make him the true heir to the Iron Throne.

JORAH

It would mean you’re his aunt. And he your nephew.

DAENERYS almost physically waves this away. She paces the floor, deep in thought.

DAENERYS

Convene my council. But do it quietly. I don’t want to raise any suspicions before I’ve had a chance to talk through our options.

JORAH

Our options, Your Grace?

DAENERYS

You have something more you wish to say?

JORAH

The last time I put love for a woman above my honour, I lost everything.

DAENERYS

You made the right choice in telling me. I swear to you, you will not lose a thing for remaining true to your Queen.

JORAH

I think perhaps I already have. But what I saw yesterday…every time two dragonriders went to war over the Iron Throne, the entire country burned.

DAENERYS

It would never come to that. Jon loves me.

JORAH

And you love Jon, I know. But the lure of power can do strange things to people.

S.E: knocking.

DAENERYS

I said I would break my fast later, Missandei!

S.E: knocking.

An angry DAENERYS snatches open the door to find VARYS waiting on the other side.

DAENERYS [CONT’D]

Lord Varys. I said I wasn’t to be disturbed under any circumstances.

VARYS

Forgive me, Your Grace, but I’m fairly certain you weren’t accounting for this particular circumstance.

3.7 INT: GREAT HALL OF WINTERFELL – DAY

JAIME LANNISTER stands in the centre of the Great Hall, still dressed in his dirtied riding clothes. He faces the Lord’s table, behind which sits DAENERYS, flanked on either side by JON and SANSA. The Great Hall is standing-room only: all of Winterfell wants to witness this.

JAIME

Am I on trial?

JON

We just need to ask you some questions. Then we’ll decide what’s to be done with you.

JAIME

Not at all like a trial, then.

DAENERYS

You have your brother’s sharp tongue. But not his instinct for self-preservation.

JAIME

If you’re hoping I’ll beg for my life, I’m afraid you really don’t have the leverage. If I don’t die on your order today, I die at the Night King’s hands tomorrow.

DAENERYS

The hours between today and tomorrow can feel like forever. Under the right circumstances.

JON and SANSA exchange a wary glance.

DAENERYS [CONT’D]

Explain to me why you’re here, Kingslayer.

JAIME catches BRIENNE’s eye and she recognises the same anger she saw that day in the baths of Winterfell. By what right…

JAIME

From whom exactly did you learn about your father, the king I slayed? Viserys, the son who had his birth-right stolen away? Barristan Selmy? A good man, aye, but one that held his own honour in higher regard than he did the lives of those that suffered under your father’s tyranny! Sycophants and servants looking to ingratiate themselves with a conqueror? Perhaps I’m the first man to ever tell it to you plainly: Aerys Targaryen was a cruel, sadistic, monster. If you don’t want to take my word for it, just ask around. Winterfell is a damn good place to start, actually.

DAENERYS

I do not need you to tell me what my father was, just as I don’t need to hear you speak to know what you are. The sins of one man do not justify the sins of another.

JAIME

And yet here you are contemplating murdering me for mine.

DAENERYS

Thugs and brutes commit murder. Sovereigns dispense justice.

JAIME

It’s remarkable that you never met your father yet you and he share such similar views on the world. What’s your position on fire, I wonder?

DAENERYS

It has it’s uses.

JON [AFTER LONG PAUSE; CLEARS HIS THROAT]

Perhaps you could try again to tell us why you’re here, Ser Jaime?

JAIME

I’ve stared death in the eyes more than once in my life, but never quite so literally as that day in the Dragonpit. Suddenly fighting for an ugly iron chair didn’t seem to make much sense. I decided I’d rather fight for the living. Have I come to the right place?

JON noticeably reacts to this echo of his own past, his presumptions suddenly nudged a little off balance. The rest of the room, though, appears unimpressed.

VARYS

You’d have us believe you’re here as a humble soldier?

JAIME

What else?

VARYS

A spy. A sower of dissent.

DAENERYS

An assassin.

BRIENNE

Your Grace, would you permit me just a few moments to speak in Ser Jaime’s defence?

DAENERYS eventually breaks here death-stare at JAIME to give BRIENNE the nod.

BRIENNE

Jaime Lannister is known across the Seven Kingdoms as the Kingslayer, the man that cut down the king he was sworn to protect. In service to his sister, the woman that presently occupies the throne that by rights belongs to you, he has planned and executed a military opposition to your reclamation that has already caused pain and suffering beyond measure and brought about the utter destruction of at least one of the great houses of Westeros. His hands are forever stained with the blood of countless men, including men sworn to you, my lord, and to you, Your Grace. He is notoriously arrogant, self-satisfied, and dismissive of anyone he considers beneath him…which is just about everybody.

DAENERYS

I’m confused. Didn’t you say you wanted to speak in his defence?

JAIME [INDIGNANT]

A reasonable question.

BRIENNE

I say all this so you understand I am not blind to who Jaime Lannister truly is. But I see all of Jaime Lannister, which is why I also see the good in him. When he and I were taken prisoner by the Brotherhood, he defended my virtue when I was nothing to him but his captor, and he did so to the cost of his own sword hand. He defied his sister and his king to honour his word to Catelyn Stark, and even equipped me with the sword and armour – and squire – I would need to defend her daughters and see them safely home to Winterfell. Everything he has done these past months, he has done out of loyalty to his house and love for his family. I don’t know if any of this tips the scales that measure all our deeds toward his favour, or even if they do, whether it should count for anything to someone that suffered at his hand, but I do know it means he is not the monster you believe him to be.

JAIME studies BRIENNE, obviously touched. All eyes turn to DAENERYS.

DAENERYS

You would stake your own honour in support of this man?

BRIENNE

Without hesitation, Your Grace.

TYRION [RISING]

If I may, Your Grace?

After a moment’s consideration, DAENERYS nods her assent and TYRION takes the floor.

TYRION [CONT’D]

If my sister were going to send someone to assassinate you, do you really believe she would send Jaime? There are more than one-hundred thousand men camped at Winterfell. Cersei could have hired any one of them, someone that was a complete stranger to you, but instead she sends someone you know only as a mortal enemy? If you were the bloodthirsty conqueror Cersei believes you to be, rather than the benevolent queen we all know you truly are, wouldn’t she assume you’d have Jamie butchered on sight rather than give him a fair hearing?

DAENERYS

I don’t know what your sister thinks, and evidently neither do you. I should have taken King’s Landing and fed your sister to my dragons the day I first set foot in Westeros, but instead I listened to my Hand when he advised me to capture Casterly Rock.

JON can barely keep his eyes from rolling in exasperation: he thought this issue was resolved.

TYRION

Your Grace, I –

DAENERYS (INTERRUPTING)

And again when he advised me to agree a temporary peace with his sister so that we might confront our greater enemy together. Yet there she sits on my Iron Throne, and here I sit with one solitary Lannister soldier. A one-handed soldier, at that.

JAIME

I may not be the be the reinforcements you were hoping for, but I’m afraid I’m all you’re getting. Cersei never had any intention of honouring your truce.

SANSA alone looks entirely unmoved by this revelation.

JAIME (CONT’D)

She has already taken steps to double the size of the Lannister army. As we speak, the Iron Fleet sails for King’s Landing with the total strength of the Golden Company.

S.E: gasps, animated chatter.

DAENERYS’ jaw clenches, but she manages to restrain her fury.

DAENERYS

How unfortunate.

JAIME

I’m sorry. I know you need every sword you can get.

DAENERYS

Unfortunate for you. If I’m no longer bound by the terms of alliance with your sister, then there really is nothing preventing me from feeding you to my dragons.

JON steals another quick glance at SANSA, receives a raised eyebrow in return, then leans close to DAENERYS.

JON

Your Grace, might I have a moment in private.

DAENERYS at first looks as though she will refuse him, but finally consents.

DAENERYS

We will reconvene presently. Please, talk amongst yourselves.

DAENERYS and JON exit, JON throwing a scowl at SANSA and the expression of grim satisfaction she wears, his sister clearly feeling herself vindicated in her aspersions upon DAENERYS’ character.

3.8 RED KEEP THRONE ROOM – DAY

CERSEI sits upon the Iron Throne, QYBURN standing and EURON sitting on the steps below. A lean-faced old man dressed in simple farmer’s garb presents his supplication before the throne.

FARMER

After they’d taken the crops, they went house to house stealing anything they could find. They said they’d be back soon as the next harvest were ready, and if we didn’t have it ready for ‘em they’d burn the whole village down.

EURON [OFF-HANDED, DISINTERESTED]

And what did you do to stop them?

FARMER

Stop ‘em, m’lord?

EURON

You’ve got pitchforks, don’t you? Scythes for…cropping?

FARMER

We’re not soldiers, m’lord; we’re farmers. We don’t know how to fight; we’ve never had to. It’s always been the lord’s men that kept things in order, but since the Tyrell’s are all gone…

QYBURN

You believe it’s now the Queen’s responsibility to rid you of these bandits?

FARMER

Oh, no, beggin’ paronds m’lord, but they weren’t bandits. They’s men from Goldengrove; farmers just like us.

EURON

Farmers raided your village?

FARMER

They’re not bad men, m’lord. Just hungry, and desperate. They gave half their stores to the war effort, same as us, but then the bandits come – proper bandits, like – and now winter’s here it’s too late to plant anything new. We was hoping that maybe the Queen’s men could –

CERSEI [INTERRUPTING]

The Queen’s men are busy preparing themselves to defend the capitol against an army of foreign savages and Northern traitors. Do you believe the people of King’s Landing are less deserving of my protection than your cabbage patch?

FARMER

No, Your Grace.

CERSEI

No, I should hope not. If you and your neighbours are not prepared to fight for your farms, then I don’t see why my men should be expected to do it for you. You may leave.

The FARMER bows and trudges away disconsolately.

CERSEI

How many more are waiting?

QYBURN

Two-hundred, Your Grace.

CERSEI

Two-hundred.

QYBURN

Give or take.

CERSEI

It’s only ever “take”. It seems to be the only thing these people know how to do, besides complain.

QYBURN

I believe we have a servant of the crown next, Your Grace. A collector of taxes, arrived from Grassy Vale this morning.

S.E: squelching footsteps.

QYBURN [CONT’D]

Do you mean some insult, coming before your queen looking like that?

The TAX COLLECTOR cuts a pitiful figure: he has made a concentrated effort to clean away the tar and feathers, sacrificing irregular tufts of hair to the barber’s shears and scrubbing his skin to an angry abraded pink, but clumps of black pitch and grey chicken feathers still stick to his person.

TAX COLLECTOR

Forgive me, my Lord. I tried my best to wash up, Your Grace, truly I did. I was going about the crown’s business, same as always, when a mob of Lord Meadows’ men dragged me off my horse and told me I was under arrest for disturbing the Queen’s peace.

EURON

How can you be breaking the Queen’s peace when you’re collecting the Queen’s taxes?

TAX COLLECTOR

That’s what I said, my Lord. But they said it wasn’t this Queen’s peace I was disturbing.

CERSEI [AFTER A PAUSE; THROUGH CLENCHED TEETH]

Go on.

TAX COLLECTOR [WARILY]

I’m not sure I should say, Your Grace.

QYBURN

My good man, your Queen has given you her leave; no harm shall come to you.

TAX COLLECTOR

They said you weren’t the real Queen. They said…they said you were guilty of adultery, and incest, and murder –

QYBURN [INTERRUPTING]

That’s enough.

TAX COLLECTOR

And that your children weren’t King Robert’s, and that you had King Joffrey poisoned because he loved Queen Margaery more, and –

QYBURN [INTERRUPTING]

I said that’s enough!

TAX COLLECTOR [AFTER A PAUSE]

They said Grassy Vale recognises only one Queen, and that’s the Dragon Queen, Daenerys Targaryen. That’s who’ll be getting their taxes, they said.

QYBURN and EURON wait for CERSEI’s anger to flare, but she simply studies the TAX COLLECTOR silently.

CERSEI

Qyburn?

QYBURN

Your Grace?

CERSEI

Hurry and fetch that farmer back.

QYBURN

At once, Your Grace.

S.E: footsteps quickly receding.

EURON

Did these cowards have anything to say about me?

TAX COLLECTOR

Begging pardon, m’lord, but…who are you?

EURON

Euron Greyjoy, King of the Iron Islands.

TAX COLLECTOR

Oh. No, my Lord.

The FARMER returns, his head bowed, expecting the worst.

CERSEI

You and your neighbours will accompany this man to Grassy Vale. You will extract from the people there the taxes still outstanding, plus one tithe for late payment and another as penalty for laying hands upon the crown’s representative. 

FARMER

But…Your Grace…

CERSEI

Deliver to the crown that which is its due, and your village shall have my leave to take from Grassy Vale’s stores however much you deem necessary to adequately replenish your own.

QYBURN

A truly inspired solution, Your Grace. Most economical.

FARMER

How are we supposed to –

CERSEI [INTERRUPTING]

As Lord Greyjoy has already established, you are not without the means of commanding your own circumstances. If you lack the requisite will, then your ill-fortune is nobody’s fault but your own. Nothing is handed to you in this life; you take what you want, or you learn to live without.

EURON

On the Iron Islands – where I am king – we would put it like this: pay the iron price and fill your bellies, or don’t, and starve. It’s a choice I’ve had to make many times before; now look at me.

QYBURN

The Gods help those that help themselves, my friend.

FARMER

But…but…

QYBURN

Your Queen has spoken. You may leave.

S.E: footsteps receding.

CERSEI [SIGHING]

I believe I’ve had my fill of justice for one day. Send the rest away.

QYBURN

Of course, Your Grace. Very good, Your Grace.

3.9 INT: DAENERYS’ CHAMBERS – DAY

DAENERYS waits impatiently while JON closes the door and pours them both a cup of wine.

DAENERYS

What are we doing here?

JON hands DAENERYS her cup. She immediately sets it aside.

JON

I wanted to give you some time to think away from everybody’s attention.

DAENERYS

I’m perfectly capable of making a simple decision under pressure.

JON

I don’t doubt it. But taking a man’s life should never really be a simple decision.

DAENERYS

You think I should spare him? Jaime Lannister? The Kingslayer? There’s not a soul in the Seven Kingdoms that thinks he’s a good man.

JON

And how many do you think would speak to your defence?

DAENERYS [AFTER A PAUSE; UNCONVINCING]

It will take time for the people of Westeros to know me.

JON

Don’t you see? They think they already do. And you’re not going to convince them otherwise by solving all your problems from the back of a dragon.

DAENERYS takes up her cup and takes a long drink of wine.

3.10 INT: GREAT HALL OF WINTERFELL – DAY

At the back of the room, among the press of bodies, TORMUND leans over to ED.

TORMUND

I’ll bet you twenty coppers she feeds him to her dragons.

ED

Make it forty, and you’re on.

GENDRY, forced to overhear, turns to scold the pair.

GENDRY

You can’t bet on someone’s life.

HOUND

The boy’s right.

HOUND (AFTER A PAUSE)

He’s a dead man for sure: you have to bet on how she kills him.

GENDRY

That’s not exactly what I meant.

3.11 INT: GREAT HALL OF WINTERFELL – DAY

With one eye on GREY WORM for any sign of objection, TYRION approaches JAIME.

TYRION

What in the seven hells were you thinking?

JAIME

What do you suppose they’re talking about in there?

TYRION

What did you possibly imagine would happen when you strolled up and presented yourself at the gates of Winterfell?

JAIME

Last time I was here we were given a wonderful welcome. Standards have definitely slipped.

TYRION

Jaime!

JAIME

Cersei and I have had a parting of the ways. She thought I should be executed for treason, while I was of a different opinion.

TYRION

It seems Cersei and Queen Daenerys share some common ground after all.

TYRION takes a step closer.

TYRION (CONT’D)

Things could have gone better thus far, it’s true, but all is not lost: show yourself chastened and throw yourself upon the Queen’s mercy. Daenerys is fair and reasonable woman.

JAIME

Yes, those were exactly the words that came to mind as I watched her burn my men to ashes.

TYRION

We are at war, Jaime! You cannot blame her for doing it well. If we condemned people for the things they did in battle then you’d be dead already, and half this room beside you. Please, Jaime: not all that long ago, when I was in your position, you counselled me to play along with my accusers, but I let my pride condemn me. Do better. Be the bigger man.

TRYION and JAIME share a wry smile and TYRION returns to his seat beside VARYS.

VARYS

She brought up Casterly Rock again.

TYRION

I heard.

VARYS

And Euron Greyjoy’s surprise attack.

TYRION

I heard that too.

VARYS

Now your sister has broken the truce you brokered. Will that be the last we hear about it, I wonder?

3.12 INT: DAENERYS’ CHAMBERS – DAY

JON

You made peace with one Lannister when you needed to, why not this one now?

DAENERYS

Trusting Cersei was a mistake, and a good ruler doesn’t repeat mistakes: they learn from them.

JON

You trust Tyrion. Is that a mistake?

DAENERYS

I’ve been wondering, or have you not been hearing me?

JON

All of Winterfell just heard you.

DAENERYS

I might question his judgment, but I am loyal to those sworn to my service.

JON

If you keep shaming them publicly for their mistakes, it won’t be your loyalty that’s the problem.

DAENERYS

Tyrion would never betray me. For all his faults, Tyrion is not his brother.

JON

Aye, and Jaime isn’t his sister and you aren’t your father. We’re defined by the choices we make, not by the people we’re related to. 

DAENERYS visibly reacts to this, but not for the reason JON infers.

DAENERYS

You don’t actually think he’s a changed man, do you? He might have fooled Lady Brienne, and of course his brother is going to vouch for him –

JON [INTERRUPTING]

I think he’s a liar, and a murderer, and more than likely the father of his own sister’s children. But…I also think he’s forgotten more about the art of war than the rest of us have ever known, and that he’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants, which right now happens to be the same thing we want.

DAENERYS

What was it Brienne said? “His hands are forever stained with the blood of countless men.” You can’t put your honour in the hands of a man like that and expect it to be returned without a stain. There’s right, and then there’s wrong. That doesn’t become less true just because the moment is more desperate.

JON sits down wearily, runs a hand over his face and through his hair.

JON

I keep thinking about something Theon said back on Dragonstone. He told me that even when we were children, I always seemed to know the right thing to do. But he was wrong. I don’t always know what’s right. Nobody can know that. And even if something is the right thing to do, that doesn’t always make it the best decision. When Davos told me what the red woman did to the Princess Shireen…I wanted to take her head myself.

DAENERYS

And you regret not doing it?

JON

Every day since. But I also regret not finding a way to live with what she did, so we might have her and her red god beside us in this fight.

DAENERYS sits down beside JON and places a hand on his knee.

DAENERYS

If I turn a blind eye to injustice because it’s convenient today, tomorrow I’ll have no reason not to do it again. And then again the day after that. And once I start down that road there’s only one possible destination. I’ll end up in exactly the same place as every other king or queen that started out with the very best of intentions: a place of permanent grey where “good” gets nothing and “bad” gets excused away.

JON

If we don’t defeat the Night King, then there is no tomorrow.

JON springs to his feet and DAENERYS follows.

DAENERYS

Jaime Lannister alone is not going to win us this war!

JON

Maybe not, but if we don’t make the most of every advantage than we will lose it! If you can’t compromise even this one time –

DAENERYS [INTERRUPTING]

This one time?! Just my being here is a compromise! Fighting your cause ahead of my own is a compromise!

JON

Our cause is your cause!

DAENERYS

That man murdered my father!

JON

You have to put aside the wrongs he did your family!

DAENERYS

Could you?!

JON

You and I would be at war right now if I hadn’t!

DAENERYS

I’m sorry I lack your gentle heart –

JON [EXASPERATED]

It’s got nothing to do with having a gentle heart –

DAENERYS [INTERRUPTING]

But I suppose I’m just not as ready as you are to forgive the very worst among us. Perhaps you think that makes me less suited for rule -

Her mouth is already forming the first syllable but DAENERYS stops herself before uttering the last two words she was thinking, but in so doing seems to have presented the situation in a new light within her own mind. JON watches her expectantly, waiting for her to finish. Instead, DAENERYS sighs and walks over to the window. Looking out, she sees the banners of House Targaryen flying over Winterfell, the banners of House Stark flying below.

3.13 INT: GREAT HALL OF WINTERFELL – DAY

Standing awkwardly before the Lord’s table, JAIME catches SANSA’s eye.

JAIME

Incredible as it seems, I don’t believe you and I have ever been formally introduced.

SANSA

We sat at the same table, in this very hall, when King Robert visited Winterfell.

SANSA looks at TYRION, then at BRIENNE.

SANSA (CONT’D)

And we do have a few friends in common. Their good character speaks to your own.

BRIENNE

I do believe Ser Jaime is a good man, my Lady.

JAIME [TO SANSA]

Perhaps you could go and join them back there, then, and put in a good word. You are the Lady of Winterfell, after all.

It is plain on SANSA’s face that she is not amused by JAIME’s allusion to her being excluded from JON’s and DAENERYS’ private conversation. BRIENNE scowls at JAIME.

BRIENNE

Though not a smart man, clearly.

JAIME opens his mouth to reply, but whatever he was about to say catches in his throat. Wheeled in his chair to a space beside SANSA at the Lord’s table, BRAN meets JAIME’s stare but speaks not a word. JAIME can hold the moment only so long, before this sudden confrontation with the spectre of his past compels him to avert his eyes in shame.

3.14 INT: GREAT HALL OF WINTERFELL – DAY

At the side of the room, GILLY scans the crowd. She turns to SAM beside her.

GILLY

Do you have one of these meetings every time someone new arrives at Winterfell?

Before SAM can answer, the muttering of the crowd abates as JON returns, alone. He stands at DAENERYS’ place at the table.

JON

Her Grace has reached her decision, and asked that I make it known to you all. If we have any hope of defeating the Night King and his army, we will need all the men we can get. We don’t have the luxury of only accepting the men we want.

S.E: gasps, animated chatter.

JAIME breathes a sigh of relief. TYRION does the same. BRIENNE allows herself a discreet smile.

JON [RAISING VOICE OVER CROWD]

Two of my men will shadow you at all times, and you’re not to carry so much as a butter knife until the moment of battle. Is that understood?

JAIME

Understood.

JON

And if I see you within ten foot of our Queen, I’ll kill you myself.

JAIME

I wouldn’t worry, Lord Snow. I hardly think I’m her type.

S.E: heavy, deliberate footsteps.

JAIME’s smirk withers away as JON brings his face just inches from JAIME’s own. 

JON

I’m not a man that wastes words saying things he doesn’t mean, Lannister. Ask around.

OUTRO