"I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams."

- Hamlet

In the dream, they are laughing at him. He's dreamt this before, the faces, contorted into mocking grins, looks of disgust and derision. They point, and hoot, and nudge one another. Look at the freak, they say, look at the halfman. Imp, they cry, Imp, Imp. It's then that he realizes that he is naked. He tries to cover himself with his hands, to hide his stunted body from them, but they still see. The faces press in, and there is nowhere to go, no escape.

He is in his father's barracks. He doesn't want to be here. The guards are laughing, cheering, and his wife...his wife is screaming. And all through it his father's hand is tight on his forearm, telling him that he is not to look away.

He dreams he is very small, being rocked by a mother. Sometimes the woman who holds him looks like a kinder version of Cersei, bright smiles and golden hair. Other times she has the face of Tysha, or Shae. All times she tells him that she loves him, that she won't let any harm come to him. He doesn't believe her.