3.02 - 3.07
And what do you want, my sweet Reek? Do you want to go with them, return to your bleak isles in the cold grey sea, be a prince again?
Tell me, Father, when did you decide to disinherit me? Was it the day that Quentyn was born, or the day that I was born? What did I ever do to make you hate me so? To her fury, there were tears in her eyes.
I never hated you. Prince Doran’s voice was parchment-thin, and full of grief.

She wants her son alive, or the men who killed him dead. She wants to feed the crows, like they did at the Red Wedding. Freys and Boltons, aye. We’ll give her those, as many as she likes.
You are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons.
The septons sing of laying down our burdens and voyaging to a far sweet land where we may laugh and love and feast until the end of days…but what if there is no land of light and honey, only cold and dark and pain beyond the wall called death?