Although the pieces move forward
slightly for Daenerys, Stannis and Theon this week, the episode is
really about one thing, and one thing only: Peter Dinklage absolutely
killing it as Tyrion Lannister. Seriously, how many Emmys does this guy
have? Just one? In my perfect world he’d have as many statuettes as
there are characters on this series, such that he could act out the
entire show with them like little action figures, which is definitely
something I have never done. Tyrion is the great underdog of the show,
the unsung hero whose nobility and courage has become a secret known
only to us, which of course makes that knowledge all the more precious.
In truth, his pain is almost directly proportional to our love–the more
he hurts, the more beloved he becomes to us. So I’m sorry Tyrion: I
probably brought this on you as much as anyone else. And I love you all
the more for it, which is probably why it’s never going to stop.
Daenerys
Now the Queen of Meereen, Daenerys decides that it’s time to get in
touch with her new people the same way a popular radio station would: by
taking requests. First up is a shepherd whose flock was barbequed by
Drogon, the black dragon who grows larger (and hungrier) by the day.
Daenerys pays the man back three-fold and moves on to a tougher case:
Hizdahr zo Loraq, a Meereenese nobleman whose father was crucified
during Dany’s fit of pique a few episodes back. He wants to give his
father’s body a decent burial, and while she immediately gets up on her
high horse about the murdered slaves, he says that his father had
fiercely opposed their deaths. Since Dany didn’t do a lot of opposition
research before she started nailing people to crosses, he died slowly
and painfully all the same. Much as Barristan Selmy warned her, this is
the sort of thing that happens when you launch the equivalent of
vengeful drone strikes at your enemies: collateral damage. Softening a
bit, she grants his petition, only to learn that there are 212 more
supplicants waiting in the wings. C’mon, Daenerys: delegate, delegate,
delegate. It’s what smart leaders do!
In the books:
Rather than petitioning for his
father’s body, Hizdahr zo Loraq asks Daenerys to reopen the gladiator
pits he owns so that sweet, sweet blood money can start rolling in
again; there is no indication that his father was crucified. Instead,
she orders the crucified nobles taken down of her own accord after they
become a public health nuisance. Also, Daenerys does begin to pay
shepherds for the herds eaten by her dragons, though she notes that they
suddenly seem to have a “prodigious” increase in appetite once word of
the payments gets out.
Yara
After raising an Ironborn assault force to rescue her poor, tortured
brother from Ramsay, Yara storms the Dreadfort in the dead of night, a
siege intercut with some scenes of Ramsay having sex, because HBO. She
finds him, but as she quickly discovers, there isn’t much left of him to
find. He fights her tooth and nail, insisting that he’s “Reek” and
doesn’t want to leave. Soon enough Ramsay arrives with his own soldiers
and it doesn’t look good for Yara until Ramsay inexplicably stops
fighting and lets the Ironborn go. Although he ostensibly releases his
hounds to hunt them, the dogs never seem to reach Yara’s men because
moments later they’re stepping leisurely into their boat and sailing
away. O…K? Side quest over, I guess. For his “loyalty,” Ramsay offers
Theon a bath, and an exciting chance to (probably) betray even more
people! In order to help him take an unspecified castle, Ramsay tells
the broken man that he’ll have to pretend to be someone he isn’t: Theon
Greyjoy.
In the books:
If you’re wondering why the rescue
plot seems oddly cursory and consequence-free, that’s because–you
guessed it–it never happened in the books. Much like Craster’s Keep
redux before it, the pointless brutality is really more of a game that
the show is playing with us to pass the time, which makes it sound kind
of like Ramsay, no? Although Theon definitely develops a pretty intense
case of Stockholm Syndrome–even declining a (dubious) offer by Ramsay to
set him free–neither Theon’s sister nor any Ironborn attempts to rescue
him. Theon does start sleeping in the kennels (a “reward” from Ramsay
that elevates him out of the dungeon) but this doesn’t happen until
slightly later.
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Game of Thrones |
Braavos
Stannis sails through the famous gates of Braavos under his new
Baratheon sigil, a stag on a fiery red heart (aka the sigil of the
angriest Care Bear).
You may remember Braavos as the homeland of Syrio Forel, Arya’s
one-time “dancing teacher,” as well as J’aqen H’ghar, her murder buddy
from Season 2. The city across the sea is also home to the infamous Iron
Bank, the financial center of the known world that has been bankrolling
the Lannisters for some time now. Despite all that Lannister talk about
paying their debts, however, it turns out they’ve been having just a
little
bit of trouble living up to their unofficial motto lately, thanks to
the massive debt accrued (and inspired) by nefarious puppetmaster and
former Master of Coin Littlefinger.
Despite the Bank’s displeasure with the current credit rating of the
Lannisters–and long tradition of funding the enemies of recalcitrant
debtors–the Bank is equally skeptical about whether or not King Droopy
Dog here will actually be able to win the Iron Throne. While books in
Westeros may talk of blood and birthrights, the Bank is far more
interested in books full of numbers. “We prefer the stories they tell,”
says the medieval JP Morgan Chase loan officer. “Less open to
interpretation.” Unfortunately for Stannis, the stories they tell–much
like the George R. R. Martin novels themselves–are not particularly
optimistic, especially after his crushing military defeat at the
Blackwater. The Bank declines his loan request, and so Davos–who would
have made an amazing White House chief of staff–steps up to the plate
with a speech worthy of Leo McGarry himself: “There’s only one reliable
leader left in Westeros: Stannis. He’s got the birthright. He’s a
tried-and-tested battle commander. And he doesn’t just talk about paying
people back, he does it.” Paid for by the committee to re-elect Stannis
Baratheon! Davos even waggles his amputated fingers at the men, the
ones Stannis cut off as a punishment for smuggling–even though that
smuggling saved Stannis from starving to death. His point is clear:
Stannis is a humorless hardass that makes Ned Stark look like Daario
Naharis in the stick-up-his-butt department, a human version of
The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms who promises to be just as game-changing as he is boring.
Turns out that’s exactly the kind of foreign dictatorship the Bank is looking to install, and their loan is approved. Cha-ching!
In the books:
Although the Lannisters are deeply in
debt and Stannis does enlist the help of the Iron Bank, it doesn’t
happen until much later in the books. Nor do Stannis and Davos ever
travel to Braavos personally; instead, a representative of the Iron
Bank–Tycho Nestoris, the same guy who condescends to them at the
Bank–comes to Westeros. And while Salladhor Saan returns to Stannis this
episode, in the books he never actually leaves his service.
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Photo: Helen Sloan/HBO |
Kings Landing
After a quick Small Council meeting to put a bigger bounty on the
Hound and assess the growing threat of Daenerys, the kangaroo court is
finally in session, judges Tywin, Mace and Oberyn presiding. To review,
Tyrion is on trial for the second time in four seasons, yet again for a
crime he didn’t commit. And as Tyrion so eloquently demonstrates in a
Emmy-worthy speech by Peter Dinklage, it’s almost certainly because he’s
a little person who ends up scapegoated for every bullshit thing that
happens around him. It’s… it’s almost like some socially disadvantaged
groups face more prosecution and harsher judicial penalties
than other people! Proving that there is nothing new under the sun,
Tywin totally laughs off the idea that he might be (gasp) prejudiced.
He’s all, “I don’t even
see height, man.”
The witnesses for the Crown are basically a who’s who of everyone Tyrion
has ever wronged: Meryn Trant (threatened to kill him for beating
Sansa), Grand Maester Pycelle (sent him to the Black Cells), and of
course, Cersei herself, all of whom are happy to recount every richly
deserved threat that Tyrion offered the young king. The deck is pretty
firmly stacked against him, and by the time the court adjourns for a
break, Tyrion is almost certainly doomed. So Jaime–sweet, noble,
definitely not-a-rapist Jaime–decides to offer Tywin the one bargaining
chip that he has left: himself.
As Davos wisely pointed out to the Iron Bank, the Lannister legacy
currently amounts to little more than a one-handed, dishonored swordsman
who can’t marry, a deeply unpopular dwarf accused of killing the king,
and a cruel, vengeful woman who hates and is hated by her people in
equal measure. When the 67-year-old Tywin–who is practically ancient in
medieval years–finally kicks the bucket there’s a good chance that
everything he ever accomplished is going to spill right out and soak
into the ground, unless he can get Jaime to step up. So when Jaime
offers to give up the Kingsguard and finally be a dutiful son in
exchange for Tyrion’s life, Tywin’s answer is instant: “done.” It’s so
fast, in fact, that if I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if he was in
league with Lady Olenna all along–or at least willing to let her plot
play out–because having Tommen on the throne, Tyrion at the Wall and
Jaime as his heir is straight up Tywin’s best case scenario.
Everyone is happy–or at least “
#GameofThrones happy”–until
Cersei’s final witness steps up to the stand: Shae. Tyrion’s former
lover gives a surprisingly truthful account of her time with him, with
the requisite treason added by Cersei’s request, no doubt. Shae uses the
word “whore” to refer to herself over and over, practically spits it.
This isn’t an accident, or self-effacement; it’s an echo, an equal and
opposite reaction to the scene where Tyrion called her the more horrible
names he could imagine and then told Bronn to drag her to a boat and
send her to another continent. It’s the revenge of someone with a broken
heart. While I’d like to think that calling Shae was Cersei goading
Tyrion into giving up his chance for mercy, that’s more of a next-level
Littlefinger move, and Cersei has always been a bit more checkers than
chess. No, this was just Cersei taking the victory lap; Cersei rubbing
salt in the wound; Cersei nailing little 165 little Tyrions to 165
little crosses across the Meereen of her heart.
Remember what Tyrion said to her once, the curse she seems to have
tattooed across the inside of her eyelids? “A day will come when you
think you’re safe and happy and your joy will turn to ashes in your
mouth. And you will know the debt is paid.” That’s the most like his
sister that Tyrion ever sounded–the closest, perhaps, that the two of
them have ever been. If you recognize the theme that plays over the
credits of this episode, that’s because it’s “The Rains of Castamere,”
the Lannister vengeance song you’ve heard a million billion times
already, notably at the Red Wedding. But somehow it sounds different
here, because this time the Lannisters are singing it not at their
enemies but at each other. Fun fact: “Rains of Castamere” was about the
Lannisters obliterating House Reyne, a competing family whose sigil was a
red lion to their gold lion. So yes, the song was always about lions
feasting on the spoils of their enemies. But it was also always about
lions eating themselves. In a way, it is the same mistake that the
Targaryens made, and the one that Dany might be making now: not only
does an eye for an eye leave everyone blind, but it has a way of
lighting your own house on fire and slowly reducing it to ashes.
Perhaps that’s why in his final moments, Tyrion decides to act not like a
Lannister but like a Targaryen, and do the same thing the Mad King
tried to do in his final moment of power and fury: burn the motherfucker
down.
In the books:
The Small Council does not learn about
Daenerys conquering of Meereen; at best, they hear rumors about
dragons, though this is dismissed as fanciful gossip. Varys and Oberyn,
tragically, never enjoy a scene with the snappy patter we see here
(though Oberyn is right: Varys is from Lys). There are several
differences in Tyrion’s trial, but the most critical is that Jaime never
bargains for Tyrion’s life. Although Jaime is present, he never meets
with either Tyrion or Tywin and certainly never offers to give up the
Kingsguard. (Tywin does give Tyrion the chance to take the black, but
the offer comes through Tyrion’s uncle, Kevan.) It’s a big shift for
Jaime: not only is he willing to give up the life he wanted to save
Tyrion, but he’s willing to sabotage Cersei’s carefully laid plans–and
abandon his twin and former lover for her most hated enemy. Shae’s
testimony is also markedly different, in large part because Tyrion never
insulted her or sent her away by force in the books. Rather than
heartbroken and angry, she simply seems mercenary and perhaps like she
never loved him at all. Also, she tells an even uglier lie, claiming
that she was engaged to a squire until Tyrion had him killed and turned
her into his prostitute by force. Tyrion gives pretty much the same
“screw you all” speech, though, and it’s equally awesome. As for the
trial by combat… let’s just say that Tyrion didn’t come up with the idea
all on his own.
Source:
Wired