I wasn't sure I'd find you.
Thought you might still be rowing.
(chuckles)
I looked in shops, taverns, brothels.
Should have known to come straight to the Street of Steel.
Aren't you worried about the gold cloaks?
Haven’t been here in years.
Why should they recognize me?
Sometimes I hardly do.
Nothing fucks you harder than time.
Anybody give you any trouble?
Here I am, arming Lannisters,
and I never get a second look.
But you were right.
Safest place for me was right under the queen's nose.
Don't be so sure.
Safety is never a permanent state of affairs.
Bad things are coming.
You came to get me.
You want me to come with you.
- Well, the thing you need to understand is- - I’m ready.
- You- - Let’s go.
You should know what you're heading into.
What do you think I've been thinking about with every swing of the hammer?
How happy I am making weapons
for the family that killed my father?
That family that tried to kill me?
(scoffs)
I’ve been getting ready.
I never knew what for
but I've always known I'd know it when it comes.
You might want to bring one of those swords.
I don’t know much about swinging swords.
But this...
This I know.
Keep your father's name to yourself.
Situation’s complicated enough already.
Well, who should I say I am?
I told you, Clovis, if we don't get out of here soon,
- someone's going to- - Gold cloak: You there!
No weapons, friends.
I promise.
What can I do for you?
- Is that your boat? - It is.
- Gold cloak: The docks are that way. - Davos: That they are.
I try to stay away from them to avoid good men such as yourselves.
- Still five gold dragons? - (laughs) Are you joking?
You must be even older than you look.
- 15. - 15?!
Apiece.
(sighs) (coins jingling)
I can't say it was a pleasure doing business with you.
- Gold cloak: What's in the boat?
Not more gold.
- Wine? - Mm.
- I like wine. - Or hams.
Come have a look.
- Fermented crab. - What?
Davos: Fermented crab.
One bucket of this triples a brothel’s earnings for the week.
A man thinks he's done.
He's ready to go back to his loving family.
But before he gets his breeches up,
his lady of the hour plops a tiny spoon of that into his mouth.
5 minutes later, he's back in the race.
Here, have a taste.
I’d hurry to your favorite establishment,
or you'll put a hole in that chainmail.
(laughing)
(chattering)