All problems in Game of Thrones can be boiled down to one simple point: Lyanna Stark makes people stupid. And by people, I mean men. Not only did Robert Baratheon launch a kingdom-ripping rebellion over her, but even decades after her death, simply standing in front of Lyanna’s statue is still the go-to place for people to make very poor political decisions. And by people, I mean Jon Snow.
This week’s outing in Game of Thrones was all about the calm before the storm. We know the Night King and his endless supply of ice zombies is coming. Everyone in Winterfell knows they’re coming. And quite early in the episode, the timeline for coming Battle of Winterfell is set—everyone, and everything, stands a very good chance of being dead before the dawn.
That gives every character a chance to take the stage for a moment and have one—possibly—last chance to show us who they have become over the course of seven plus seasons. Some of these are spot on: Tormund Giantsbane gets to tell a tall tale about the origin of his name, and to leer appreciatively at Brienne. Jaime and Tyrion get to admit to each other that their days of wanton incest and carefree debauchery, respectively, are behind them. And in what might be the most touching moment of an episode chockablock with tender glances and rueful last statements, Brienne of Tarth kneels on the cold stones of Winterfell and is made a knight of the seven kingdoms by the man who knows all about losing … and regaining … the honor that knighthood is supposed to embody.
Oh, and Arya has sex. Which is a perfectly acceptable response to impending doom, and a much better option than setting around with a morose Sandor Clegane and a preachy Beric Dondarrion, both of whom are former members of Arya’s bedtime Kill List. However, let us say thanks that the producers of Game of Thrones for once restricted themselves to shots of Arya’s scarred back … because for those of us who have just finished rewatching the whole series, a girl is perpetually twelve.
Despite all these moments ranging from sex to introspection to drunkeness to drunken introspective sex, the episode sometimes falls flat when it comes to making the audience feel the impending doom coming closer by the moment. Soldiers have long had the saying that their job is long stretches of boredom interrupted by rare moments of sheer terror, but even knowing that one of those rarities is right ahead doesn’t make the boredom a whole lot more interesting.
However, there are a number of instances in the episode whose impact will surely echo even after the local scramble against the deadites is done. Assuming, as the increasingly slappable Bran puts in doubt, there is an after.
The previews for this episode hinted that Jaime Lannister’s appearance in Winterfell, and his subsequent trial for having done many, many bad things, was going to be the focus of the hour. However, after rolling out Jaime’s list of sins—which include some pretty damn significant acts—everything is take off the table in rather quick fashion. Brienne stands for him. For Sansa, that’s enough, she immediately accepts Brienne’s word as not just good, but an acceptable balance for all the things that Jaime Lannister did. Since those things include slaughtering a good number of the Stark household guards, warring against her brother, imprisoning her father, and having at least advance knowledge of the Red Wedding … that’s a pretty damn high value on Brienne’s blessing.
What’s even more interesting about this moment is that Sansa makes the decision. She doesn’t pass it to Daenerys for the queen’s approval, even though Dany has just spent some time listing out Jaime’s importance as boogeyman to her family. Dany’s opinion becomes an afterthought. Jon’s is an afterthought of an afterthought that Sansa prods out of him only sarcastically. The Lady of Winterfell stands up and leaves, her decision made, before Daenerys or Jon actually makes any formal agreement. Sansa Stark may not officially be the queen here, and she may be short a couple of dragons, but she clearly believes that she makes the rules in her house.
Once the hole in The Wall gang arrives at Winterfell to provide the news that those pesky Umbers, who last week refused to bend the knee to Dany, are now “serving the Night King” (which would seem to indicate that castle we skimmed past in the opening title sequence was Last Hearth). This precipitates a council of war scene that is easily the most confusing and least satisfying point of the episode. In short order, Bran spilled to everyone not just that he is the “three-eyed raven” but that the Night King is after him in particular, and something something something … they can bait the Night King into exposing himself by posting Bran in the Godswood with a guard force composed mostly of Theon Greyjoy and however many Iron Islanders he took from his sister’s handful of ships.
And oh yeah, Theon is back, Sansa momentarily abandons all good sense to smile dreamily at him … and I am still not interested in the redemption arc of someone who has fundamentally betrayed everyone he ever promised to follow and papered over his incompetence by killing a couple of children and rolling them in tar. I rate Bran’s protection level at roughly equal to eating sushi from a gas station. In July. In Oklahoma.
The whole massive arcane knowledge spew from Bran might seem as if it would gather a few scowls, requests for explanations, and WTFs. It might also seem that people might ask Bran what in hell they should do, if he knows so much. But Bran, pushing his mystic irritation level to eleven, continues to keep most of what he knows to himself. Though presumably he does talk to Tyrion, safely out of earshot of viewers.
At least Bran doesn’t give up his surely-too-heavy-for-even-Brienne knowledge about Jaime. We can be thankful for that.
Part of this week’s theme is a mini-redemption arc for Tyrion. After multiple bad decisions, most of which involved anything to do with Cersei, Tyrion is on the outs with Dany and it seems his Hand of the Queen days may be ending. But multiple characters this week are anxious to tell Daenerys that Tyrion’s brain really is that massive, and she needs him. So there’s no last-minute-before battle change in the staff.
Also advised to go and talk with Sansa, Dany starts out very well. After a few moments of rapprochement, Sansa thaws, the two women are talking on much less frigid terms, and all seems on its way to some genuine unity in the face of impending Big-D Doom.
Only no. Because when Sansa makes it clear that all her actions have been about maintaining the independence of the North … Dany snatches her hand back and stares at Lady Stark as if Sansa has just done something unpleasant in the royal punchbowl.
This moment is everything. Seriously. Because you can just about mark it down as the moment when Daenerys, scrappy underdog and champion of freedom, becomes a not-all-that admirable contender for the Iron Throne. Truthfully, Dany has been working her way from peak worthiness for some time. How long has it been since she talked about “smashing the wheel” and upending the social order? A long time. As her power has grown, Dany has increasingly shown herself as someone who is willing to use that power for power’s sake. When she says she’s thought about nothing but the throne all her life, it honestly seems that she’s forgotten that she ever had any consideration but landing that chair. In terms of What Then, Daenerys seems to have not a single clue.
In this moment between Sansa and Daenerys, it would take no more than a moment’s thought for the would-be queen of all the seven kingdoms to give Sansa exactly what she wants — a free north. Dany hasn’t promised northern lands to anyone else in exchange for their help. At the very least, she could assure Sansa that she will provide some form of autonomy for the North. There is no one to tell her no … except herself. When Daenerys withdraws her hand, it’s an absolute signal that she is so set on winning control over all of Westeros that she cant even toss someone a crumb, if that crumb reduces his absolute power.
Combine this with last week’s scene with Sam Tarly in which we get a nice reminder that Daenerys dry-roasted prisoners who refused to bow to her, and it’s just one in a string of several events that indicate Dany has inherited a lot more from her family than all that silver-blonde hair.
And of course, this idea is only intensified when Jon drags lover down to the crypts to explain that she is also his aunt. Daenerys’ immediate reaction is disbelief. She points out that the only source for this my-claim-to-the-throne-is-better-than-yours is Jon’s best friend and Jon’s raven-nuts half-brother (or cousin). She immediately sees Jon as a threat.
The next words in this discussion are chopped off when the horn sounds and the dead start lining up on the far side of the battlefield. But there is definitely a “to be continued” in this talk, assuming one or the other doesn’t end up with much bluer eyes by dawn. Maybe we’re headed toward Mad Queen territory, maybe this is all a fake-out in advance of a genuine power-sharing agreement, maybe both Jon and Dany were about to blurt out “You take the throne. No you!” in a kind of Westerosi rule-cute. But it will have to wait.
That’s how the episode ends, but I saved one other scene for last because it was my favorite — in good and bad ways.
Davos Seaworth, Onion Knight and closest thing to a genuinely good man in the whole damn seven kingdoms, is in the courtyard of Winterfell filling soup bowls and providing encouragement. Because of course he is. Into this scene wanders a young girl whose scarred face immediately brings up visions of Shireen, the daughter who “the Donald Trump of Westeros” Stannis Baratheon torched in a useless effort to boost his odds on the battlefield. That connection couldn’t be more clear on Davos’ face if “Shireen” was actually written across his eyeballs.
When this brave little girl offers to take the field in defense of the castle, it’s clear that Davos’ warm heart is fit to break, and he is only saved when former Wildling Gilly appears to encourage the girl to come down into the crypts, where the women and children (and apparently Tyrion) are going to wait out the coming battle. Gilly convinces the girl that her bravery will be needed to defend the crypts and gets her to agree. Gilly and Davos—both of whom were taught to read by poor open-hearted Shireen—smile at each other, clearly sharing a moment and a since of relief that at least in this case, they’ve done what they can to protect the girl.
Only … here’s the thing. The one big advantage that viewers have over the characters of Game of Thrones is that we have all seen zombie movies. Many, many zombie movies. And we have a pretty good sense of why no one in this movies says “Look! An army of the undead! Let us all go seek shelter in the cemetery!”
That girl … better be good.
Observations:
- Gendry finishes Arya’s weapon, which looks like a dragonglass-bladed version of the thing that both she and the Waif were swinging back at the House of Black and White. And no, I am not buying the theory that Arya is not Arya.
- Ghost! I spotted Ghost! He was there … for like a whole five seconds, doing nothing and unremarked on and … why did they even bother?
- It is the most American thing ever that I am much more upset at the idea of Arya having sex, than I ever was at any of her many, many murderations.
- The song that Podrick sings is, at least in part, in the books. Honestly, I am not going to skim three thousand pages to find it, and I only vaguely recall the background lore for the character in the song … it’s sad, and it’s about ghosts, and that should be enough in this situation.
- We got a glimpse of Ghost, but not even a moment of dragons. Can they not exist in the same episode?
- We got the Jorah Mormont / Lady Mormont meeting, and it didn’t end with a pointless speech about how Ser Jorah had sullied the House, etc, etc. Huzzah for that.
- And of course Lady Mormont is going to take the field. Honestly, everyone else should just let her and Arya fight the dead army, and pick up any leftovers.
- That statue of Lyanna was the same place where Robert and Ned went to talk at the outset of this mess. Someone might think about knocking that thing down.
- Just about everyone sitting around that fire sharing stories are really good candidates to bow out next week.
- Missandei and Greyworm got to speak, like, actual sentences. Unfortunately the gist of those sentences seemed to be “one of us is definitely going to die.”
Some open questions:
- Does the Winterfell crew know about the zombie dragon? That’s going to be one helluva surprise.
- The question of whether the Night King can be killed by dragon fire came up, but I thought we’re already had at least one scene of head White Walker striding through flames that were at least dragon-started.
- I think we can assume the answer to the dragon fire question is “no.” But what does that white stuff the zombie dragon breathes do to people? (There is talk about ice dragons in the books, but no actual animal on pages seen by mortal readers.)
- If, as would seem almost certain, the survivors make a retreat from Winterfell, can they use the magic transporter that got Theon there this week?
- How old is too old to be resurrected? Will we get guest appearances from Ned and Lyanna? Someone better take some weapons into that crypt.
- Did anyone ever answer Sansa’s question from last week? Namely how are they feeding all these people?