Watching the Throne: That Time Jaime Lannister Suddenly Became Ron Burgundy (A "Game of Thrones" Recap)

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Being that he's been so preoccupied with, you know, that brewing war against Tywin Lannister and all, Robb Stark has been rather one-note throughout season three. To paraphrase that sociopath Jack Torrance, all work and no plays makes Robb a dull King in the North. Until "The Bear and Maiden Fair," that is.

Doing what any sane heterosexual man who's married to the gorgeous Talisa would do, Robb bumps and grinds with her beneath some sheets, letting off some steam after he's told that Walder Frey will most likely still be mad at him for breaking off that engagement to his daughter. Once the sex is finished, Robb, sans pants, walks over to his desk to map out some war strategies. Catching a glimpse of the still-naked Talisa lying in bed on her stomach, her body arched, he tells her, "If you don't put some clothes on I can't promise I won't attack you again." Who knew Robb Stark's pillow talk game was so on point?

Talisa starts writing a letter to her mother, a woman whom, according to Talisa, would love to meet Robb, even though she's currently unaware that her daughter is a queen—hence, mommy is clueless. Though, Robb can't seem to stop glaring over at Talisa's body: "How am I supposed to sit here planning a war while you're over there looking like that?" Nevertheless, Talisa keeps on talking about her mother, once again saying that she'd love to meet Robb and "her grandchild." It takes a second for the news to register, but Robb quickly realizes what Talisa's saying: "I have your little prince or princess inside of me."

If Robb thought he had a lot to fight for before the episode's sexy time with the old ball-and-chain, he's about to really learn the meaning of responsibility. Assuming he can stop checking out his wife's ass, of course.

At one time, Tyrion Lannister put the "imp" in "pimp," bedding tons of prostitutes and walking around with more swag than Bishop Don "Magic" Juan. Now that he's in love with whore-turned-maiden Shae, though, he's softened quite a bit. And now that Tywin has sworn him to marry poor Sansa Stark, whom Shae looks after, Tyrion's love life is, no pun intended, royally screwed up.

While having a drink with his trusty bodyguard, Bronn, Tyrion vents his frustrations over having to hurt Shae in order to follow his father's commands. Bronn, not much of a romantic, provides some cold-hearted advice. "Wed one and bed the other," in addition to, "You want to fuck that Stark girl—you just won't admit it." If King's Landing had a Hallmark card business, Bronn would be its MVP, no doubt.

Tyrion's later conversation with Shae is much less misogynistic and more unpleasantly painful. Tyrion tries his hardest to assuage Shae and let her know that he'll always love her more than he does Sansa, which makes her question if he'll love her "while I empty her chamber pot and lick your cock when you're bored?" He then says that he wants to have some kids with Shae. "You think I want children who can't see their father?"

Next comes the baby-please-don't-go Hail Mary attempt: "You'll always be my lady." In Shae's eyes, sadly, "I'm your whore, and when you're tired of fucking me, I will be nothing." And you thought fighting with your girlfriend over watching Game of Thrones instead of Revenge was bad.

The last time we saw Joffrey, he'd just shot a ton of arrows into a strung-up and topless Roz in his bedroom, killing the poor whore for sport. In "The Bear and the Maiden Fair," though, he's back to his usual sniveling brat antics.

Calling grandpa Tywin into his quarters, Joffrey—smugly seated on the Iron Throne—chastises Tywin for not reporting to him about the council's meetings and, also, for changing the location to the Tower of the Hand without letting the king know. As Joffrey moans, he'll "now have to climb all the stairs," prompting Tywin to say, with unsubtle disrespect, "We could arrange to have you carried." Changing the subject, Joffrey asks about "the Targaryen girl with the dragons," looking about as shook as the Astapor lord was before Daenerys' dragon burnt him alive a couple of episodes back. "We ought to do something about [her]," he declares.

Tywin doesn't seem at all threatened by the Mother of Dragons. "Curiosities on the far side of the world are no threat to us." And as he walks away from his powerful grandson, the look on Tywin's face says it all: He's relishing the fact that Joffrey's intimidated.

Just when you thought Daenerys Targaryen couldn't seem any more badass after that time she and her dragons incinerated Astapor, "The Bear and the Maiden Fair" gives the world yet another reason to bow down to Ms. Stormborn's greatness.

Approaching the city of Yunkai, Daenerys vows to overtake it after she's told that its rulers oversee a whopping 200,000 slaves. Her reasoning: "We have 200,000 reasons to take the city." But, no, that kind of humanitarianism isn't why Dany emerges from this episode an even bigger Queen B than before. That moment comes as Yunkai's lord, having been brought in by a bunch of slaves carrying him in a carriage, sits down with "the breaker of chains" and her not-so-cuddly dragons. Just to keep the man honest, Dany tosses some meat in the air for her little fire-breathers to swoop in and scarf down right in front of him. He's clearly shook, as are his slaves.

He offers Dany two chests full of gold bars, not to mention "as many ships are you'll require…to sail back Westeros where you belong and leave us in peace." Her no-fucks-given response: "I have a gift for you as well: your life." Followed by, "You will release every slave in Yunkai. Reject this gift and I shall show you no mercy."

Visibly agitated, he huffs, puffs, and orders his slaves to take back the gold before they all leave, but the biggest and meanest of Dany's dragons leaps down next to the gold and yells something fierce. Wisely, the lord and his slaves head back to Yunkai empty-handed.

Jorah Mormont, Dany's righthand man, warns her that "they're a powerful people—they won't bend." Which cues the episode's best line, and definitive proof that, this season more than ever before, Daenerys Targaryen is the Game of Thrones definition of gangster: "What happens to things that don't bend?" Fingers crossed that we find out.

Before season 3 began, Jaime Lannister was the ultimate pretty boy douchebag, the kind of privileged, arrogant, sister-sexing scoundrel who looked no less unlikable even as a beaten-down prisoner of Robb and Catelyn Stark. Minus a right hand this year, however, Jaime's become one of the good guys. He's no longer as deserving of a slap to the face as Joffrey. Or, at the very least, he's become someone who's momentarily sympathetic. Who knows what he'll do once he's back in King's Landing with the rest of his hoity-toity family. Regardless, he'll certainly have a story to tell any future incest-bred children that he and sibling Cersei may spawn.

The day before his trip back home begins, Jaime pays Brienne a visit. "I owe you a debt," he says to his fellow prisoner and the unlucky woman who's about to endure all kinds of cruel torture while being held at Harrenhal by Lord Bolton, his malevolent soldier Locke, and the rest of their lot. Swearing to honor the promise Brienne made to Catelyn, Jaime informs her, "I will return the Stark girls to their mother," and if this were a year ago, you'd be wise to call bullshit. You also wouldn't know the level of heroism and nobility he's about to display.

En route to King's Landing, Jaime learns that Brienne's father, Lord Selwyn Tarth, offered Locke "300 gold dragons for Brienne's safe return," a sum that Locke rejected, thinking it's cheap and insulting. "She'll be their entertainment tonight," one of his fellow travelers tells Jaime, "and beyond tonight, I don't think they will care too much."

Jaime manipulates Bolton's commander-in-charge, telling him that if he doesn't bring him back to Harrenhal, where he's "left something behind," then Jaime will tell daddy Tywin that said commander is the one who cut off his hand, but bringing him back to Harrenhal will result in Tywin learning that Mr. Commander is the one who saved Jaime. Naturally, dude obliges. And once they're back in Harrenhal, Jaime finds all of the men watching in joyous celebration as Brienne, trapped in a pit, fights a humongous, pissed-off bear with a measly wooden sword. To which Jaime, doing his best Ron-Burgundy-saving-Veronica-Corningstone impersonation (minus Baxter), jumps into the pit, stands in front of the bleeding and exhausted Brienne, and basically tells the bear, "Come and get me."

Fortunately, the commander fires a couple arrows into the bear's side, slowing it down enough for both Brienne and Jaime to escape. With the same intention of keeping Jaime alive in order to keep Lord Bolton happy, Locke lets he and Brienne head back to King's Landing.

It's almost enough to make a Game of Thrones fan reconsider ranking Tyrion as his or her favorite Lannister sibling. But then one remembers that epic GIF of the imp pimp-smacking Joffrey and such notions disappear.