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.
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