Tyrion walks from the courtyard to the dining hall where his family is eating breakfast.
Tyrion Lannister: Bread. And two of those little fish. And a mug of dark beer to wash it down. And bacon, burnt black.
Jaime Lannister: Little brother.
Myrcella Baratheon: Is Bran going to die?
Tyrion Lannister: Apparently not.
Cersei Baratheon: What do you mean?
Tyrion Lannister: The Maester says the boy may live.
Cersei Baratheon: It's no mercy, letting a child linger in such pain.
Tyrion Lannister: Only the gods know for certain. All the rest of us can do is pray. The charms of the north seem entirely lost on you.
Cersei Baratheon: I still can't believe you're going. It's ridiculous even for you.
Tyrion Lannister: Where's your sense of wonder? The greatest structure ever built, the intrepid men of the Night's Watch, the wintry abode of the White Walkers.
Jaime Lannister: Tell me you're not thinking of taking the black.
Tyrion Lannister: And go celibate? The whores would go begging from Dorne to Casterly Rock. I just want to stand on top of the Wall and piss off the edge of the world.
Cersei Baratheon: The children don't need to hear your filth. Come.
Jaime Lannister: Even if the boy lives, he'll be a cripple, a grotesque. Give me a good clean death any day.
Tyrion Lannister: Speaking for the grotesques, I'd have to disagree. Death is so final, whereas life... Life is full of possibilities. I hope the boy does wake. I'd be very interested to hear what he has to say.
Jaime Lannister: My dear brother, there are times you make me wonder whose side you're on.
Tyrion Lannister: My dear brother, you wound me. You know how much I love my family.
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