When the stablegirl asked why the maester was collecting so much driftwood I almost laughed. If she intends on spending time around Thaddeus she better get used to confusion.
Why indeed does the Maester do any of the things he does? Why is he always writing in his books? Why does he need dragonglass so badly? Why does he tie so much paper to birds? Why will he never let me borrow his razor? Why does he wear all those robes in the heat of the summer? Why does he argue with SER DARRON, DRAGONSLAYER about what is and isn’t a fucking dragon’s head? Why won’t he let me teach him how to use a sword? Why does he like spending so much time with Jardon lately? Why does he like dogs so much?
The wood was apparently a pyre for the girl – we know that now – but why so large? Why does it still smell like it’s burning? It’s the middle of the bloody night! Why does my head hurt? Why do I have to piss so badly? I climb out of my bunk and pass Dollin’s cabin. It’s quiet. I pass Jardon’s cabin. The door is open and the young archer is snoring on the floor. In the moonlight I see someone’s drawn on his face with charcoal. I rub my forehead. Charcoal too. Shit.
I haul myself onto deck, grunting. Why do the gods make you feel so old? I shuffle towards the rail but notice a figure on the beach. Why is Thaddeus still out on the shore this late? Why is he holding up that blade? Why is he cutting off his fingers!?
Seven hells! There truly is no understanding that Maester. The stable girl is gonna have to learn that. He’s either too wise for us, or else fully mad.