[Previously!] GUYS. Remember how some folks were thinking the show would dip down in storytelling and energy? Ha. HA HA HA. Nope! It just gets better and better. This episode was all about families reuniting (kind of) and what was amazing for me, a woman who has watched the women of this show be abused in the most horrific of ways, was how once again, the women told the men, “Chin up” and “Just sit back. I got this.” Nope, I’ll never get enough of that. Let’s get to it, because there is a LOT.
Obligatory reminder that I am Unsullied. Don’t give me that horse pucky about “But we’re all past the books” because everything in the books is not on the show, and no one likes a show off, okay? Don’t flex your book knowledge here for you shall make me sad. It’s funny to watch me guess and flail, right? Right! Show talk only, please and thank you.
THE EYRIE IS ON THE MAP! That means Bad Boob Sucker or Littlefinger, and oh man, oh man, I have been waiting for someone to go flying… Fingers crossed, you guys. Just, strategically I love that spot on the map. Clever, clever, clever. The map is kind of one of my favorite things of all times. Maaaaybe you noticed.
Did… Jon leave his sword when he left The Wall?? Oh, no, he must have gone off for a stomp and cry, then came back to pack. He’s headed south, “somewhere warm” and Edd’s all, “How the hell are you leaving us to the ice zombies?”
I’m thinking, he saw what the ice zombies are capable of, so I’d hie to Essos, too, Edd. Use your noodle.
But hark, what horn through yonder busted gate? STOP THE FUCKING PRESSES BECAUSE SANSA STARK AND BRIENNE OF TARTH ARE AT THE GATE AND I AM IN LITERAL TEARS AND CLUTCHED MY CHEST AND IS THIS THE REAL LIFE? IS THIS JUST FANTASY??I would like to thank God and also Gjördkr the Bær Fuçkër for this moment.
Give me a second to revel in it.
A little longer…
Okay. Sansa Stark is smiling and clean, and I need another moment. It has been a HARD JOURNEY, m’lady. [sniffs] She apologizes to Jon for being a jerk, he accepts her apology, and now kiss. WAIT SORRY, WRONG HOUSE. (Lol) Side note: I do find it hilarious that what is essentially an armed monastery cannot ferment a proper pot of ale. Like, aren’t most of them known for that? What the hell are they doing all day if not practicing swordsmanship and protecting the southern world and… right. That’s what they’re doing.
Holy smokes, Jon insists they leave together, and I’m not crying, it’s just a localized rainstorm on my face. And Sansa is like, “We’re going to kick the Boltons out.”
Sansa: I will finally feel a moment’s happiness when I see Ramsay Bolton’s stink washed from the floors of Winterfell.
Me: ME, TOO. I WILL REJOICE
Jon: I’m so sleepy tie, though. So much fighting, sis…
Sansa: So here’s the thing. The answer is yes. Yes you are going to help me or Yes I’ll go alone. So. You coming?
Sansa: THE ANSWER IS YES.
Davos throws some shade at Melisandre’s assurance at who will be the Prince Promised, and then… You guys? You called it. YOU. CALLED. IT. He demands to know what happened to Little Newt/Shireen (and Stannis). Before he can learn of the full horror of Little Newt (wailing and sobbing, oh precious little lady), Brienne comes in and is all, “Hey! Fire Crotch Mage! You are into some naughty, naughty no-no stuff. I know about your blood magic, and no, that’s not a euphemism about Aunt Flo. By the way? Stannis? [sucks teeth, stares down at them for they are wee and she is tall] Dead by my hand. Execution style. Well, tea time, cheers!”
I want Tormond/Gdjödkr to fall in love with her. (Edit: I write these as I watch. *cough*)
Bad Boob Sucker spotted trying to shoot an arrow!
Littlefinger arrives and BBS breaks into a milky grin whilst mouth breathing, happy to see Unka Petyr.Unka Petyr, however, is trying his slippery lies with Lord Royce, the one guy who seems to be honorable on paper in the Eyrie, and Royce is not having any of that nonsense. Problem: Bad Boob Sucker gets final say on what’s what, and it’s been an awful long time since he made someone fly, and Uncle Petyr always lets him do what he wants. Can he make the man who maybe-probably-didn’t-at-all-sell-Sansa-to-the-Boltons fly until he splats with a great red squish at the bottom, Uncle Peter? Can he?
Littlefinger: Well, maybe not just yet. Let’s let him fight for us, and then you can squish him. Speaking of fighting…
Bad Boob Sucker: …I should help fight for my cousin?
Littlefinger: Who’s the smartest creep I know?
Bad Boob Sucker: I am! Me! It’s me, right? I am?
Littlefinger: Yes, you are the creep I know. I mean, yes, you’re right. Let’s go join the fray.
OR WAS THAT THE FREY??
Tyrion, with the help of his wacky band of brothers, is trying to help out Daenerys by meeting with the masters of the various slave cities. They just want Dany to make like a leaf and get the fuck out of town. Tyrion, with his “You don’t need slaves to be rich. I’m richer than either of you and we don’t have slaves. We call them indentured servants and the system is capitalism, duh. Totally different.”
Tyrion: How about this. In seven years, no more slaves. And you’ll stop funding the Sons of the Harpy.
Masters: Ha, um, we don’t fund them???
Tyrion: Just like the Koch brothers aren’t behind the GOP, I get it. [wink] But yeah. Cut that shit out. So! Sounds like a plan? Here are some sex slaves.
Missandei: THE FRESH HELL IS THIS?
Locals: This is terrible. Also, who the hell are you, short bro? What gives you the right?
Tyrion: I’m the very short and drunken spokes-piece? And kind of sort of Dany gave me the right?
Missandei: Guys? I don’t trust him or the slavers. But we need to do something, right?
Locals: Everything is terrible.
As Tyrion richsplained slavery to two former slaves, all I could think of was this:
While I get how Missandei and Grey Worm are mad at Tyrion, Tyrion does make a good point. “War is hell. Slavery is evil. I cannot end them today on my own. So. I’m doing my best. And their contempt is their weakness. We’ll use them and—”
“You will not use them,” Grey Worm says gravely. “They will use you. That is what they do.” Well, he’s not wrong. Evil will always exist, huh? If I may quote Angel, one of the great genre TV shows (I will fight you), “If nothing we do matters, then the only thing that matters is what we do.”
Daario and Jorah climb sexily (Jorah pants even more sexily) and their banter is… [kisses fingers]. This is everything I could want. Two dudes, one hot and in his prime, banging the queen, one old and in his prime, wanting to turn that queen into an empress. They have their dick measuring contest over a river—
Daario: [whips it out, pees] Ooh, water’s cold.
Jorah: [whips it out, pees] Deep, too.
—and Jorah says, “Look. We need each other right now to save Dany.” And Daario’s all, “She likes it when I call her…” ENOUGH, DUDE. Go back to Orphan Black and leave me with sexy even though he is dying from Stone-ism Jorah.
….if you don’t think I’m going to call the heart attack I give Iain Glenn when we slow dance at our wedding “Death by Stone-ism” then you’re not paying attention. Okay, that was gross. I’m gross. I apologize.
Daario spies Jorah’s patch of Stoney (hahaha) and now the jig is up. He’ll be on high alert, won’t he?
The two slip into the town at night, their aim to get to the temple where Jorah assumes Dany is being kept. Unfortunately, they’re caught up by two Dothraki. Daario kills one, and Jorah gets in a pickle with his. Turns out that Daario did not drop his lady-bod-handled knife, and helps out. Daario covers up the stab wound by smashing the dude’s face in with a rock. Problem solved!
Next problem: Dany slipping out with a sweet Khaleesi widow in order to line up with the dudes. Nice! I have literally no idea what’s happening, and I assume Dany knew they were coming, although I don’t know how. Faith? I guess. Girl wasn’t surprised, is what I’m getting at. The young widow is, however, but Dany made nice, and this young lady is willing to do what Dany says. We have to wait to find out what that is, though.
Queen Margaery watches millipedes on the wall, because her cell doesn’t come with cable. Nun Ratchet shows up and takes her to Cult Pope, who wants to know her Summer Vacation plans, should he let her out. She’d go straight to her family. Well, that’s sin. (Uh. This is how you know it’s a cult.)
The Tale of How Cult Pope Came To Be
Once upon a time there was a cobbler’s son. He worked long and hard to master his father’s craft, and in fact exceeded his father’s talent. The rich from far and wide paid dearly for the finery of the shoes the young man crafted.
He earned his coin, and more. And then even more. Until one day, he threw a giant kegger for his fellow plebes. They drank and danced, most likely to Kanye, until they fell into a drunken stupor and probably also they fell under the influence of MDMA or something. When the young man awoke, he found everyone naked and in weird positions on the floor, not unlike a Sunday morning at a Phi Kappa house. The women had mascara and smeared lipstick on their faces, the dudes kind of sort of pooped themselves, and he was the only one sober enough to bear witness to it. Such a mess!
And it was like an angel spake unto him saying, “Thou hast some stank-ass, rank friends.” And he replied, “Yea verily.” And the angel spake again, saying, “And no one appreciated the fine wine you bought. Lo, for it could have been rot-gut and they would have dranken it,” and he replied, “Amen.” And the angel continued saying, “That wast quite stupid of you,” and the young man said, “Yeah, I heard you the first time,” but the angel pressed on saying, “No, but really.”
The angel spake yet again, saying, “And dost thou feel as if thou hast wasted thine money?” And the man replied, “It is so.” And the angel fixed him with a look, one that made him feel small and stupid, and the young man made a vow, saying that he would give up the pleasures of the flesh, for that is how cutting the angel’s look was.
And here we are today, all because a frat boy had a bad trip and felt like he got screwed out of his money. This is why we can’t have nice things.
Margaery: Uh. Great story?
Cult Pope: Want to see your brother?
Loras, meanwhile, is jacked the fuck up in a prison cell. My guess: Margaery is going to lie and do anything she can to get him out. Margaery is one bad muh-fuh, and I love her.
Tommen continues to prove his stones have dropped by standing up to maester Cat Piss when Mummy wants a visit. Funny moment: the exaggerated slowness with with Pycelle shuffles out of Tommen’s room. I bet if FrankenGregor showed up he’d pick up the 2-Step a bit…
Cersei makes the point that whether she despises Margery or not is irrelevant. The important part is that they crush the High Sparrow and smash him into bits on the cobble, including Cersei dancing barefoot in his guts, just a little. Just to make a point, not to be, you know, gross about it.
Step one, let Lady Olenna know that Cult Pope plans on having Margaery have a Walk of Shame, too.
(Pride Stride, say it with me, people. Oh, not the same thing, sorry. Carry on.) Lady Olenna appears to be ready to side with Team Incest to prevent her beloved granddaughter from Cersei’s fate. Amazing things: Lady Olenna’s face as she listens to Jaime and Cersei explain the plan. Yes, yes, they actually know some things and are a force to be reckoned with. She even makes Kevan Lannister understand they need to move forward here. I love it. LOVE IT.
But oh, my heart. Theon is coming home. All hail Alfie for his heartbreakingly complex performance as Theon Greyjoy. I swear, he’s been a nonstop ride from the first moment. Sister Yara is furious at the sight of him, and with good reason.
He’s really only there because she’s his family and he wants her to rule. He goes so far as to ask who does she want him to say this to? Because he’s been broken into 1,000 pieces (“I know. Ramsay Bolton sent me one. That’s why I came for you.” CUE MY TEARS) Aaaaand here’s another family reunion making me happy. It’s not the same as the Starks, but it’s pretty damn good. Christ, has Theon paid over and above for his sins…
Speaking of sinners, Ramsay has Tonks (Osha) brought before him. He’s enchanted by her whole, “I’ve seen worst than you can do” schtick. She pulls the “distract with sex” thing, but he already knows who she is and she gets a knife to the jugular for the effort. Ugh, Tonks, I am so, so sorry you are dying with Ramsay’s taste on your tongue. Good lord, worst thing ever. Man, Tonks can’t manage to finish out a series, can she?? D:
We’re back up at the wall, and the world knew I needed something good. And that comes in the form of Gjördkr the Bær Fuçkër eye-fucking Brienne, and I swear you guys, I write these as I watch, and everything I wanted is happening. THIS IS HAPPENING. Brienne, though, is a little put out by his table manners, ahahaha. They get a letter from Lord Bolton, however.
“You’re a stink butt traitor and we have Rickon. Oh, rape, dogs, torture, etc. LYLAB! Ramsay [smiley face]”
Sansa: Seems legit. Let’s fight.
Jon: Mother f…
Gjördkr: Uh. Shit. I don’t normally balk at fighting, but…
Sansa: Yeah, but righteousness on our side. Also, I’m super pissed.
Jon: You make a good point.
Dany, once again forced to stand while people talk in their own language, not remembering she speaks it too, has to endure dudebros threatening rape. She rolls her eyes because that again? Pfft. That’s all they have, these Dothraki. Guess what she’s got? OH, JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE. The Dothraki never seem to learn, huh?
Side note, shout out to the country of my heart, New Zealand, for casting amazing actors. Also, shout out to this show for being brilliant. Dismantle the religions of this world and expose the fools who believe in them? That’s the theme.
Dany knocks over all the burning whatever they’re called, the light source or something, I’m too excited, BRAZIERS!! Those things! Right! The building goes up in flames with the Dothraki screaming in fear, locked inside. She stands there, Unburnt, like a mother fucking boss. How You Like Me Now plays on 11 as she steps out; the entire Dothraki clan sees her unburnt, unblemished, whole.
Jorah flashes back to S1 and murmurs, “Khaleesi” and even Daario is turned on by it. Yeah, Daario. You just thought she was hot. Jorah knew. He’s always known.
And there’s Khaleesi’s army. Shiiiit. HELL. YEAH.
Have I mentioned how much I’m loving this season? All the pain, all the torture, all the horribleness HAS. BEEN. WORTH. IT.
Christ, I love this show. I do. It’s flawed, let’s not be silly, but when it’s good? It’s fucking breathtaking.
P OS S I B L E S P O I L E R S
In the “next week” preview…
AND ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME THAT BRAN IS GOING TO SEE THE ARMY OF THE DEAD?! Guys? Guys. GUYS!!! I am freaking dying. I am so excited. I AM SO HAPPY I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY HANDS.
I am going to keyboard smash for a week, that’s what I’m going to do. Bran is going to get an idea of what’s coming. Jon and Sansa are going to take a GIANT to Winterfell (this is my hope; y’all know I have no idea) and WunWun is going to grab Ramsay by the foot and smash him onto the cobblestones–just a little, not to kill him, but to knock him out–then at Sansa’s behest, step on him until he pops like a grape.
O LORD WE ASK THE TO DELIVER UNTO ME, THINE MOST FAITHFUL SERVANT (um) A DEATH BEFITTING A RAMSAY BOLTON.
You will feel a disturbance in the force if that happens, and that will be my soul soaring. Gah, also on the wish list: Lord Arryn falling through the moon door and grabbing Uncle Petyr in one last embrace.
I’m getting bloodthirsty. Ha. What are your thoughts, you guys? Best season yet?