Thanks to Seth Meyers, I now know better than to invite the handsome Jon Snow to a dinner party. It's not that the Game of Thrones character is an evil demon or anything. He's just, um, intense. Not great at making small talk. Takes every conversation to 11. The type of guy who will listen to a story about an orange tree and say it reminds him of a time he saw someone get drawn and quartered or whatever.
Speaking of Game of Thrones and dinner parties, do you know what the HBO series could use more of? Casual dinner parties. Sure, some of the families will sit around a table for special occasions, but said meals typically end on a sour, violent note. Why not throw a friendly “just because” dinner? Hold off on the murdering and scheming and fighting for a night. Instead, they could share anecdotes, crack jokes, and master the art of small talk (looking at you, Jon Snow).
Let’s take it one step further: Why not organize a “just because” dinner for all of the GoT characters who live in Westeros?
Yes, all. Alive, dead, minor, major. ALL OF THE CHARACTERS.
Game of Thrones: The Dinner Party
Cersei Lannister let out a sigh of relief as she looked out from the balcony in her quarters. It was a beautiful day in King’s Landing, and that was all she could’ve hoped for. The last thing she needed was the weather mucking up the evening’s event. The event she’d been asked to plan, host, and run. The event she drunkenly agreed to plan, host, and run.
Three weeks ago, Olenna Tyrell invited Cersei over for lunch and plied her with a never-ending supply of wine. After glass number seven, Olenna presented Cersei with the plan: the Queen Regent of the Seven Kingdoms would orchestrate a grand event and invite everyone who hails from the continent of Westeros. It would be an effort to settle the Iron Throne squabble once and for all.
“Well, who gets the Throne?” Cersei asked Olenna between sips of wine. “I assume the Throne will be my reward for cobbling together such an ambitious gala.”
“You will see,” Olenna smirked. “Now, drink up. Do we have a deal?”
“I— Dare I ask what’s in it for you?”
“Don’t be so suspicious, Cers. I simply want to see everyone come together and have a good time for a change. And as Queen, it can only behoove you to boost the morale of the denizens of the Seven Kingdoms.”
Cersei considered this. This sounds miserable, she thought. But this could be huge for my legacy. And we all know my legacy could use it. And most importantly, I may walk away with the Throne! She agreed to do it. And that is how she found herself here: stressing out on dinner party day.
“What is this tacky garbage?” Arya Stark asked, waving a glimmering piece of card stock at The Hound. “Cersei is hosting a party and we’re supposed to believe it’s not some evil Lannister plot?” Arya handed the invitation to The Hound.
“I think the glitter and the gold lettering looks nice, “ The Hound replied. “I don’t know, this could be fun. At the very least, it’ll give us a lot of material to talk about on the ride home.”
“I hope every single invitee no-shows. I think the embarrassment would kill Cersei more than an arrow in her black heart.”
“A free meal is a free meal,” The Hound said. “And it’s Cersei, so you know there will be an open bar.”
"Fine, fine. Let's go."
Jorah Marmont was the first to arrive to the open field where the dinner party was held. There was a dining table that went as far as the eye could see. “Why didn’t she go with a bunch of round tables?” he mumbled under his breath. “That seems like it’d be more conducive to conversation.”
“Not to mention, that table is a waste of an enormous and majestic tree,” Daenerys chimed in. Jorah jumped and turned around.
“When did you get here? Where’s your dragon?”
“I tied him up to a tree a ways away. I didn’t want anyone bothering him. But really, what will Cersei do with that table after this ridiculous party? Make someone spend his afternoon chopping it up into firewood? Ugh, it’ll take us an hour to find our place cards on this monstrosity.”
Cersei clanged a fork against a chalice. She stood up from her chair at the head of the table. “Thank you all for coming,” Cersei shouted. “If you can hear me, please raise your glass.” One fifth of the guests lifted their cups above their heads.
“Well, then. I thought this might be an issue,” Cersei yelled. “So, if you could all do me the kindness of relaying my toast to the person sitting next to you. And then, instruct that person to pass the message along. It’s like that game we used to play as children. Whisper Chain.”
Those who were within earshot nodded to let the Queen know they would oblige.
“The only red I want to see at today’s dinner is the wine in our glasses and Walder Frey’s nose,” she continued. “Walder, you are the craggiest of drunks.”
Cersei waited for her joke to make its way down the table. Many guests laughed. At one point, she heard a loud cackle and a crash. Sansa had literally fallen out of her seat. Cersei tried to hide a smile. Oh, how I wish she was my daughter-in-law, Cersei thought. She and I would’ve had fun together. We could exchange Joffrey horror stories and laugh.
Wait, where is Joffrey? Cersei sat down and turned to Tyrion. “Have you seen my son?”
“My Queen, look behind you,” Tyrion replied.
Cersei turned around to see Joffrey feeding Daenerys’s dragon wine. Cersei rolled her eyes and shook her head. She was just about to turn around and get back to her toast when something dawned on her: The dragon was not on a leash.
“JOFFREY!” she screamed as she sprinted from her post at the table. “GET AWAY FROM THAT DRAGON.”
At that moment, Daeny, who was seated about three-fourths of the way down the table, just happened to glance over where Joffrey was antagonizing the dragon. Smoke emitted from the dragon’s nostrils. “Dammit,” she mumbled. “If you all will excuse me, I have to go put out a figurative fire and prevent a literal fire.” She sprinted to Cersei’s side.
“Daenerys, do something,” Cersei hissed. “Do something right now.”
“I could say the same to you about Joffrey Ba-brat-theon, but I won’t.”
Cersei narrowed her eyes at Daenerys, but before she could say anything, the Mother of Dragons was calming down the winged creature. “Joffrey, it would be in your best interest to return to your seat and stay out of the dragon’s eyeline,” she said. “I don’t know how he escaped his leash, but you are lucky the worst that happened is some soot on your blouse.”
Joffrey kicked a pinecone, flipped her the bird, and went back to his designated chair. Daenerys led the dragon back to his spot in the woods.
Cersei rubbed her forehead and returned to her chair. As she lifted up her chalice to resume the toast and announce what was on the evening's menu, several smoke bombs and fireworks shot off simultaneously. The sound of every sword being drawn was like the screams of a thousand banshees.
"STAND DOWN," Cersei bellowed. "NO BLOODSHED."
When the smoked cleared, everyone began to yell and accuse each other of being responsible for the impromptu fireworks show.
Theon Greyjoy stood up from his seat. He waved a piece of parchment above his head.
"Everyone," he cried out. "Please stop. Please quiet down."
"HODOR!" erupted Hodor. The dinner guests froze. Theon thanked Hodor.
"Someone left a note on the table," Theon said. "I'll read it aloud. Time to play another game of Whisper Chain."
He cleared his throat and read the words scribbled on the parchment:
"Dear guests of this most unholy gathering,
The reason Cersei called all of you here today was for my benefit. I knew you'd be too distracted by one another to notice me slinking away. I knew you'd be too distracted by your hate for each other to notice as three henchmen and I loaded up the Iron Throne on the back of a cart and hauled it away.
The Iron Throne is mine. I won. I always win. Suck an egg, snitches.
P.S. Don't worry, I didn't poison anything. Enjoy the meal."
The party guests sat in silence.
"We can't let her get away with this," Robb Stark said, mouth full of seared salmon. "We have to go after her."
"Honestly, I don't have it in me to fight her for the Throne," Jaime Lannister replied. "I'd much rather pretend like it doesn't exist."
"PRETEND LIKE THE IRON THRONE DOESN'T EXIST?" Robb Stark slammed his fist on the table. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" He reached for the handle of his sword. But before he could draw his weapon, Brienne of Tarth swatted his hand away.
"Did you not hear the one rule of this dinner?" she asked. "No blood will be spilled."
Robb stabbed at his salmon until it looked like peach-flavored mashed potatoes.
Cersei slouched down in her seat and draped her legs over the arm of the chair. "I didn't want to host this stupid party in the first place. But you know what? Once the idea was in my brain, it grew on me. And then, I wanted it to be a masterpiece," Cersei drunkenly slurred. She let out a burp. "Olenna set me up. She set me up. Well, Olenna can, uh, can bite me. SHE CAN BITE ME."
"Hodor," Hodor replied.
"Exactly," Cersei nodded. "You get it. Thanks for your listening ears. You know what are uncomfortable?"
"Close. Shoes." Cersei yanked her high heels off of her feet. She grabbed a jug of wine and slammed a shoe against it. The guests looked her way.
"Heeeeey, everybody!" she yelled. "Party is over. Check under your seats for goodie bags. I made them myself. There's uh, a beeswax candle, a chicken egg, and I think a magic marble? Actually, I forget what I put in the bags. Whatever, thanks for coming."
Cersei stood up, headed back to her castle, passed out in her bed, and slept for 17 hours straight.
"Well, that wasn't what I expected," Arya said as she and The Hound walked away, gift bags in hand. "The look on Cersei's face when Theon read that note was priceless."
"See? Aren't you glad we went?" The Hound gloated.
"Yeah, yeah. Honestly, I hope this becomes an annual thing."
"Now, that's the spirit. Here, have my magic marble." The Hound rummaged through the gift bag and handed Arya the small orb. Arya snatched it up.
"Thank you soooo much!" she said. And then, she chucked it at his head. "NOT!!!!"
"Well played, Stark. Well played."