But, as in John Hughes movies, the lovable sidekicks (Pod, Tormund, and, nearly, the Hound) pair off with various deus ex sexinas. She leaves, and Jaime follows Tormund is randily heartbroken. Tyrion’s drinking game-a proto-“I Never”-returns, swiftly revealing that Brienne is a virgin. Thankfully, Varys peers at her suspiciously.

Mind-bending music plays, implying that she’s freaking out that these happy fools won’t bend the knee, and, possibly, that she wants to murder everybody. “If this isn’t the time to drink, when is?” Bran is partying Bran-style, by quietly sitting away from the crowd, saying things like “I don’t really want anymore.” Dany makes a toast to “Arya Stark, the hero of Winterfell!”-it’s about damn time! Tormund, after insisting that vomiting is celebrating, drunkenly praises Jon while sloshing a wine-filled ram horn, and Dany watches with jealousy. “We fought dead things and lived to talk about it,” Jaime says, using the oldest line in the book. I may see about ordering an onion-sigil flag.)Įlsewhere in the hall, Brienne puts her hand over her goblet-none for me, thanks-and Jaime removes it. Bastard no more! Davos Seaworth yells, “To Lord Gendry Baratheon, of Storm’s End!” (Later, he grouses amusingly to Tyrion about the mysterious Lord of Light: “We fight his war and win, and then he fucks off.” What did he want? I love Davos. As he walks by, Dany announces his parentage-with a vaguely threatening How dare you be the son of Robert Baratheon? vibe-and then makes him the lord of the Baratheon stronghold. But she makes a scene in the mead hall, where the celebrations have begun, and where Gendry is looking around for his boo. The conflagration is gigundo to her credit, Dany does not show off by wading into it and surviving. Jon bellows a eulogy torches in hand, he and Dany share a look that says, Look, our relationship is fucked, but right now we’ve got some pyres to light. Tell the old gods and the new that I’d like to register some complaints.Īs the episode begins, Winterfell mourns the fallen, especially the Mormonts, Beric Dondarrion, and Archie Andrews-forgive me, that’s Theon, looking very “Riverdale” in death. Instead, it began funereally, then segued to revelry, then to fireside unbuttoning, and ended not only with horror but with broken hearts across the realm. I’d hoped that the episode after “ The Battle of Winterfell” and its shattering of zombies would begin with “ Ding, Dong, the Witch Is Dead” joy. Oh, “ Game of Thrones,” you charming sadist.

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