Game of Thrones Recap: And Now His Watch Is Ended

You guys. I can’t.

I’ve been staring at this blank page for a good five minutes straight and I just…I can’t. It was so good. This episode was so. Good. I just want to close my eyes and bask in the glory of it the way Superman does the sun. Oh my GOD(s) it was epic.

Personally, I’ve been waiting for this episode ever since I read A Storm of Swords and it was well worth the wait. I just. Wow. It was as beautiful as Jason Momoa’s behind.

Almost.

Okay- okay- I’ll digress (reluctantly) to cover the remainder of the episode but…let’s be honest, this episode could have been ten minutes long and it still would have been everyone’s favourite episode ever.

First of all, the fact that this episode was titled And Now His Watch Is Ended infuriates me. It should have been called- WHAAAT? HOLY SHIT. Anyway, And Now His Watch Is Ended opens with a grim and depressing scene (of course it does). Jaime Lannister is still being held captive, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, his captors are now forcing him to wear his severed hand around his neck like some sort of macabre pendant. Surprisingly, Jaime’s not taking this very well. We’re barely five minutes into the episode by the time he’s fallen off his horse and into the mud, drank urine (not his own- I don’t know if that makes it better or worse), and had his ass kicked.

Again.

Sure, he may have pushed a small child out of a window, but seriously, everyone feels bad for him at this point. Besides, Bran’s like, an Animagus telepath now and Jaime’s a captive with one hand, so, we’re even. Right? Sure.

Back at King’s Landing, Varys is- for some reason- telling Tyrion all about that one time he became a eunuch. He was only a child, and travelling as part of an acting troupe when he was sold to a sorcerer. Sadly, he did not become the sorcerer’s apprentice. Instead, You-Know-Who cut off his You-Know-What and burned it in some kind of weird, twisted ritual (somewhere, Amanda Palmer is writing a poem in defense of the sorcerer). Anyway, this scene is just beginning to delve into “TMI” territory when it suddenly starts making sense. Ah, Varys longed for revenge against the sorcerer the same way Tyrion now longs to seek revenge against Cersei and his father, and though it took years of patience, it was well worth the wait in the end. No, seriously- he now has the sorcerer in a trunk. He cracks open the lid to show his prize to a horrified Tyrion, and suddenly what could have been uncomfortable overshare is now a ridiculously awesome scene.

We’re not yet certain what happens to the sorcerer, because the next time we see Varys he’s talking to Ros (the redheaded prostitute with the great boobs). They’re discussing the unmatched sexual prowess of Podrick Payne, and the reasons why Littlefinger overlooked the loss of income. Apparently he’s been too busy packing for his trip to visit Lysa to notice that the women under his employ are all in a titter over Pod’s…rod? He’s apparently packing for two, after all. Ros points out to Varys that Littlefinger has ordered two feather beds for the journey. One for him, and one for (Sansa) an unannounced (Sansa Stark) companion (it’s for Sansa).

Elsewhere in the capitol, Joffrey and Margaery are enjoying each other’s company in the Targaryen tombs. How…romantic? Margaery’s feigning interest, and Joffrey is positively thrilled to be on a date with a girl who knows how to enjoy a good mausoleum (unlike that prissy Sansa- who was not at ALL impressed when he took her on that date under her father’s severed head). Cersei is, of course, accompanying the pair (Mo-om!), and she’s positively horrified by Margaery’s suggestion that they venture outside to wave at their people. Before she can remind Joffrey that the last time he interacted with “his people” they nearly ripped him to shreds with their bare, dirty hands, he’s outside with Margaery on his arm, smiling and waving to the adoring masses. He’s simply too oblivious to realize that they’re cheering for the woman on his arm instead of their “King”, but Cersei’s no dummy. You can tell by her expression (and the fact that she’s suddenly adorning her gowns with armour instead of jewels) that she’s threatened by this pretty, savvy young woman. Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s manipulation. Either way, Margaery is playing her cards better than Cersei did when she was in the same position, and that simply will not do.

“Boo, you whore.”

I guess at this point I can no longer avoid talking about Theon, so, basically he was captured and subsequently tortured and then this guy showed up to tell him that he’d been sent by his sister to rescue him and then he did rescue him but then he was captured again but then that guy saved him from his captors only to RETURN HIM TO HIS TORTURERS. OH MAN. I must admit, at this point even I am starting to feel the faintest inklings of pity for Theon Greyjoy. That false hope double-whammy was one of the cruellest twists we’ve witnessed yet, and that is saying something.

Before you have time to realize that that weird twinge you just felt was in fact sympathy for Theon, Jaime and Brienne are back, and it’s clear that The Kingslayer has thrown in the proverbial towel (it’s also clear that he hasn’t seen an actual towel in like, a year). He’s the epitome of dejection, refusing to eat. Brienne, having realized how dire the situation is, is doing her best to goad him. She calls him out for the same thing Locke did; pointing out how easy his life has been up until this point. It must have been, if he’s going to let something silly like the loss of an appendage get him down! She reminds him how hard it is to survive when you’re not, in fact, a member of the wealthiest family in Westeros- and implies that if the average man can cope and move beyond his personal losses and grievances, surely- surely the remarkable Jaime Lannister can do the same. She tells him to live for revenge, and it seems to get through to him. He finally starts eating and women everywhere simultaneously sigh in relief. We’ve already lost Khal Drogo, okay? You cannot take the beauty that is Jaime Lannister away from us. You just can’t.

Finally, Brienne poses the question we know has been weighing heavily upon her mind. She asks him why he opted to save her when he could have simply turned a blind eye. He doesn’t reply, and perhaps that’s because he simply does not have an answer. He’s not the man he was at the beginning of this season, and one of the things I look the most forward to in the remaining episodes to come is his personal growth and evolution as a character.

His twin, however, has yet to have her own moment of reckoning.

Cersei is understandably worried about her brother (or her male counterpart, if you agree with the sentiments I expressed in my previous recap), and visits Tywin to ask what is being done to guarantee the safe and swift return of Jaime. Tywin dismisses her (because he’s Tywin), but Cersei presses on. She points out how she is, in fact, the child he should cherish the most. After all, she was the only one to take all of his lectures to heart. She beseeches him to allow her to contribute more, despite the fact that she’s a woman, and is promptly- and acerbically- shut down. This scene was as painful to watch as the earlier scene that took place between Tyrion and his father. Despite Tyrion’s intelligence and Cersei’s ambition, neither can or ever will compare to Jaime, and for the same unfortunate reason. They’re not big enough, tall enough, strong enough, brave enough, man enough to fill his boots. Tywin claims that the fact that Cersei just so happened to be born a member of the fairer sex has little to do with his disdain; she’s simply not clever enough to garner his acceptance. This fact has always been a sore spot for Cersei, who was raised to be nothing more than a wife. She tried to use her son as a conduit to rule, but that back-fired, as she brought Joffrey up with none of the constraints that had been placed upon her and in the end created the sort of tyrant she’d spent her life quietly rebelling against.

Speaking of quiet rebellions, we find Olenna and Varys discussing all of the possible ways to take Sansa out of Littlefinger’s reach. Margaery, who we can only assume is in on this plan, is entertaining Sansa and enabling her day-dreamy nature. She promises that once she is Queen, Sansa will be free to wed her brother, Loras, and the two can live happily ever after in Highgarden, surrounded by flowers and awkward excuses about why they never have sex. Oh, Sansa, you poor, poor thing.

Meanwhile, at Craster’s Keep, a group of tired, hungry, frightened men are feeling mutinous, and a food fight (involving knives and axes) breaks out, resulting in the death of Craster. FINALLY. Sadly, Lord Commander Mormont also gets shanked, because this is Game of Thrones and everything is terrible. Sam escapes and retrieves Gilly and her newborn son, and they flee into the woods together, now as frightened by the living men as they are by the dead.

Up until this point, it has been a pretty bleak episode, but fear not- shit is about to get real.

The Brothers Without Banners have brought The Hound to their leader, Beric Dondarrion. Sandor and Beric exchange words, and The Hound defends his honour- claiming he is not the rabid dog they are looking for. He points out that it is unjust to expect him to pay for his brother’s sins, and just when everything seems to be coming up Milhouse, Arya pipes up from the side-lines, informing the room that The Hound murdered her friend (R.I.P. Mycah) in cold blood. That’s what you get for calling out Arya Stark, Sandor! The Hound cannot deny that he killed the boy, and so he’ll be forced to face Dondarrion in a fight for justice. In case you’ve forgotten, Sandor Clegane is deathly afraid of fire, and now- thanks to Arya- he’ll be duelling a worshipper of The Fire God, in a confined space surrounded by torches and illuminated by a roaring bonfire. Revenge is evidently a dish best served piping hot, and on that note…

VALYRIAN, MOTHERFUCKER- DO YOU SPEAK IT?

…we find ourselves back in Astapor, where Daenerys has just sealed the deal. We see her hand over Drogon (the dragon she named after her late husband, Drogo) to Master Kraznys in exchange for the whip. With that, it’s done. She is now in possession of an army 8000 strong. She walks away from Drogon, who is clearly calling out for his mother in dragon-speak (maybe I’m a Warg too, because that’s obviously what he was doing), and puts her newfound authority to the test. She calls out a command to the Unsullied in their native tongue, and the only one clever enough to realize that she is speaking the very language Kraznys has been insulting her in for two episodes prior is Missandei. Turns out Valyrian is the mother tongue of the Mother of Dragons, and she doesn’t take too kindly to being referred to as a whore.

The Unsullied respond to her simple commands (put your left foot in, take your left foot out), but the slavemaster is still too distracted with his newfound exotic pet to realize what is about to occur. He demands Missandei inform “the bitch” that her beast refuses to come, but this time, it’s Daenerys who answers.

I literally have chills as I type this- I can barely keep it together. Oh man. It was amazing.

She confirms that she speaks Valyrian, because she’s Daenerys Stormborn and her family motto is Fire and Blood for a reason. She commands the Unsullied to kill the slave masters, slay the soldiers, and slay any man holding a whip. She commands them to “harm no child” and to free the slaves, and with that, turns her new army on their old masters. Without a moment’s hesitation, the slave masters are dead and the Unsullied are in formation and Kraznys is desperately commanding someone- anyone- kill her.

Over his screams she gives one last command, this time to Drogon.

“Dracarys.”

It’s the High Valyrian word for “Dragonfire”, and Drogon is as quick to obey as the Unsullied. Kraznys is engulfed in flames, and as he releases the chain, Drogon soars away, lighting the palace on fire.

Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.

When the dust (and ashes) have finally settled, Dany offers the Unsullied their freedom. She tells them that if they fight for her, it will be their choice, and to further prove her point drops the whip like it’s a mic. When she leaves the city it’s with an army at her back, and all three of her dragons soaring high above their heads.

This scene was the reason why I shook George R.R. Martin’s hand when I met him and commended him for creating such strong female characters. Is his depiction of women flawless? No, but it was so refreshing to read (and now see) this scene, as it’s so often the men who get to provide these sort of grandiose moments of glory.

With that being said, I’m now going to spend the remainder of the week attempting to teach my dog to do something awesome in response to “Dracarys”.

I’ll call her Dog…ron…

She can’t breathe fire, but she could like, roll over or…bark? We’ll work on it.