Game of Thrones Page #5

TYRION:

Who’s going North?

JAIME:

We are. The royal “we.” The King.

The Queen. Me. You, if you can find

your pants.

TYRION:

Why?

JAIME:

Well, I’m used to it, but the rest

of the court might be frightened by

the sight of your wet little

dagger.

TYRION:

(annoyed)

Why are we going north?

22.

JAIME:

The King has chosen his Hand. And

no one’s going to be happy about

it.

EXT. WINTERFELL GATES - LATE AFTERNOON

Winterfell, the stronghold and ancestral home of House Stark,

is an ancient and austere place. Many acres lie within its

two concentric granite walls; its keeps and towers stretch

toward the gray skies above.

A RAVEN flies into view, heading toward the stronghold with a

small parchment scroll dangling from its leg.

We follow the black bird as it glides over the Winterfell

walls, banks over the main courtyard, and comes to rest on

the windowsill of

INT. MAESTER LUWIN’S CHAMBER - CONTINUOUS

The raven jumps from its windowsill perch onto the arm of

MAESTER LUWIN (75). He is a small, gray man: gray eyes, gray

hair, gray wool robe. A heavy chain lies around his neck,

much like Maester Pycelle’s.

The Maester removes the scroll from the raven’s leg and opens

it. His face darkens as he reads.

EXT. GODSWOOD - DUSK

A thousand years of humus lie thick upon the forest floor,

swallowing the sound of a woman’s feet as she walks.

LADY CATELYN STARK (35), Ned’s auburn-haired, blue-eyed wife,

makes her way among the dark tree trunks, their twisted

branches weaving a dense canopy over her head. In her hand,

she holds the small parchment scroll from the above scene.

She reaches a small grove at the center of the wood, where an

ancient weirwood tree broods over a small, black pool.

Looking like no tree on Earth, the weirwood’s bark is bone

white, its leaves dark red. Long, long ago, a melancholy face

was carved into its trunk; its deep-cut eyes are red with

dried sap. They seem to follow her as she rounds the tree.

Seated on a moss-covered stone on the other side of the tree,

Ned rests his sword, Ice, across his knees as he cleans it

with a cloth dipped in the black waters at his feet.

CATELYN:

I knew I’d find you here.

23.

He lifts his head to look at her. He sees her shivering and

hands her his cloak, which she wraps around herself before

sitting on the forest floor.

He registers her somber face, and the scroll in her hand. He

stops cleaning his sword.

NED:

Tell me.

CATELYN:

Forgive me, my lord... there was a

raven from King’s Landing. Jon

Arryn is dead.

Ned looks at the wet sword, lying flat across his lap.

NED:

How?

CATELYN:

A fever took him. He was healthy at

the full moon and gone by the half.

NED:

Your sister, the boy...?

CATELYN:

The letter said they’re well.

Ned looks more angry than grief-stricken. He dries his sword

with a swatch of oiled leather.

CATELYN:

He loved you very much.

NED:

I haven’t seen him in how long,

nine years?

CATELYN:

You couldn’t have known-

NED:

Of course I could have known. He

was an old man. Every year he asked

me to visit and every year I told

him, “Next year.”

He sheathes the blade. Catelyn reaches for his hand. For a

moment they are silent.

24.

NED:

The girls won’t remember him. Bran

never even met him.

CATELYN:

You’ll tell them the stories.

NED:

Old Jon would have been proud of

Bran. He was a brave boy at the

beheading.

Catelyn is troubled by the thought. She releases his hand.

CATELYN:

Eight is too young to see such

things.

NED:

Should I tell you about the things

I saw before I was eight?

(beat)

He won’t be a child forever. And

winter is coming.

The words disturb Catelyn but she keeps her silence.

NED:

His brothers helped him. Especially

Jon.

CATELYN:

Jon Snow is his half-brother. My

lord.

Ned notes his wife’s tone but says nothing. This isn’t a

fight he needs right now. Catelyn, realizing she has broached

the wrong topic at the wrong time, changes the subject.

CATELYN:

The raven brought more news. The

king rides for Winterfell.

(beat)

Along with the queen and her

brothers.

Ned considers this prospect for a moment. Clearly Catelyn

already has. They both know what it means.

NED:

He hates the cold. Always has. If

he comes this far north, it’s one

thing he’s after.

25.

CATELYN:

You can always say No.

Ned allows a grim smile, taking his wife’s hand and helping

her to her feet.

NED:

You don’t know the king very well.

EXT. WINTERFELL GATES - DAY

From the stronghold’s gates, the King’s Road wends its way to

the horizon -- where tiny specks of red and gold appear,

barely visible. Very slowly, they grow larger.

The king’s party approaches.

EXT. TOWER - DAY

Bran climbs down the side of the tower, his hands and feet

finding purchase on its jutting stones with a monkey’s

unthinking agility.

Climbing is as natural to him as studying is onerous. He

smiles as he makes his way toward the ground in record time,

very pleased with himself-

Until his mother yanks him off the stones. Catelyn lowers him

to the ground and sternly waits for an explanation.

BRAN:

I was... I was...

CATELYN:

You were bored with your lesson so

you decided to climb the castle

walls, even though I’ve forbidden

it two hundred times.

BRAN:

I-

CATELYN:

Brandon... I want you to promise

me:
No more climbing. Promise.

Bran looks at his feet before gazing up at her solemnly.

BRAN:

I promise.

Catelyn leans over to look her son dead in the eye.

26.

CATELYN:

You know what?

BRAN:

What?

CATELYN:

You always look at your feet before

you lie.

Despite Bran’s best efforts, his mouth stretches into a

smile, and a chuffing laugh escapes from behind it.

Catelyn smiles, unable to help herself. She sees that his

hands, clothes and bare feet are filthy from the climb down.

CATELYN:

Go on, clean yourself up. The king

will be here soon.

Bran kisses his mother on the cheek and runs off.

EXT. WINTERFELL GATES - DAY

The king’s party pours through the gates of Winterfell in a

river of gold, silver and steel, one hundred strong.

Over their heads, a dozen golden banners whip in the wind,

emblazoned with the crowned stag of the House Baratheon.

INT. WINTERFELL - COURTYARD - DAY

At the far end of the yard, Ned’s face betrays nothing as he

watches the King’s party approach with his family beside him.

Catelyn, Robb, Jon and Bran are here, as are SANSA (13),

traditionally beautiful, with high cheekbones and thick red

hair; ARYA (11), a skinny tomboy; and their little brother

RICKON (3).

Ser Jaime rides through the gate and into the courtyard.

BRAN:

(whispering to Jon)

Is that the king?

JON:

That’s Jaime Lannister. The

Kingslayer.

Bran can’t take his eyes off the man. He’s heard the stories.

27.

Tyrion Lannister rides behind his brother Jaime, studying the

castle and its occupants, missing nothing.

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