“My duty is to the realm. How many boys dwell in Westeros? How many girls? How many men, how many women? The darkness will devour them all, she says. The night that never ends. She talks of prophecies . . . a hero reborn in the sea, living dragons hatched from dead stone . . . she speaks of signs and swears they point to me. I never asked for this, no more than I asked to be king. Yet dare I disregard her? We do not choose our destinies. Yet we must . . . we must do our duty, no? Great or small, we must do our duty.”
Jon Snow is dead. Long live Jon Snow.
This was the same feeling I had at the end of the fifth book of George R.R. Martin’s
A Song of Ice and Fire. Jon Snow is dead, but really…he can’t be. Not entirely.
Because Jon Snow is the song of ice and fire. Some book thoughts/spoilers here, though it’s all theoretical now that the show and books are neck-and-neck, and viewers and readers are equals.
Jon Snow, I believe, is the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, not of Ned Stark though Ned claimed him to protect him for all those years.
This makes Jon Dany’s nephew (though they’re about the same age, since she was so much younger than her eldest brother Rhaegar) and a slayer of White Walkers. He wields one of the last remaining
Valyrian steel blades. Jon Snow is one of the chosen heroes of this saga. Azor Ahai, maybe.
I was prepared for Jon Snow’s death, or whatever it is. His death and possible resurrection. I have had years to dwell on it and stew over it and wonder. I was not prepared for Stannis to die.
I’m still not happy about it. Until last week,
Stannis remained one of the more complicated, interesting characters in HBO’s fantasy drama. He was ruthless and utilitarian in his quest to become king, but he was never wicked in the same sense that Joffrey or Ramsay are wicked. His burning of Shireen was wicked, though, and foolish and out of character I think, still. It doomed him, but in the books his doom remains uncertain, as does his daughter’s fate. I’m not sure what to think now that we’ve come to the end of both books and TV show. The paths diverge, and yet here I am at the end of each. How strange.
Another gratifying, gory scene takes place in a Braavosi brothel, where the pedophile/sadist Meryn Trant is caning three young girls because, well, Trant is an awful human being and we really need another example of this I guess.
She kills Trant with gusto, stabbing out both his eyes, slashing him wildly, stabbing him over and over in the chest, all while monologuing impressively. Then she cuts his throat, which is more than he deserved. Ah well, these “good” moments in
Game of Thrones are so rare, let’s just enjoy them.
Arya needed a kill, needed to whittle away at that long death list of hers.
In King’s Landing, Cersei confesses to her crimes—though not all of them.
Her hair cut short, her robe discarded, Cersei walks. She walks to the taunts of a jeering crowd, to horrible insults and hurled food and filth. The Sparrows protect her as she shambles along, not breaking down, her feet bloodied.
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Source:forbes
