For a King’s landing wedding, the union between Tyrion and
Sansa seemed to be a bit of a dud, right? I don’t know if anyone in attendance
smiled besides Bronn (I believe Pycelle was actually scowling). Things lighten up
a little when Joffrey pulls a prank on his diminutive uncle, which has the
residual effect of forcing Sansa to kneel for her marriage cape to be applied.
Surely Cersei was in no mood for a party. She might lock arms with Margaery
Tyrell as the two strut usherlessly toward their places at the wedding, but she
still has no warm feelings toward her eventual sister/daughter-in-law. Even as
Olenna Tyrell is sorting out the mangled branches of the sad family tree during
a joyless reception, Cersei can’t feign enthusiasm. She escapes for alone time
on the terrace, only to be bothered by her future husband/something-in-law. Her
harsh words toward him are nothing compared to her threats hurled toward Marge,
but a good example of how uncomfortable these Tywin-forced unions are making
everybody.
None seem to be as uncomfortable as Tywin’s second son,
Tyrion. As he acts drunker than he is, disappointing daddy, Joffrey continues
to mock the marriage — threatening rape of Sansa (hard to believe she never
fell for this guy isn’t it?) and getting a little too giddy about the bedding
ceremony. Much like he was acting obnoxiously drunk, Tyrion acts like he’s just
joking about cutting Joff’s unit and replacing it with a wooden prosthetic,
bringing about an abrupt end to the night’s “festivities.”
In the honeymoon suite, things aren’t any hotter, and I
thank the show runners for allowing me not too feel really pervy by keeping
Sansa clothed. Tyrion shows that he really isn’t the drunken whoremonger that
people throughout Westeros perceive him to be, and even Shae cracks a smile
when she finds clean sheets.
One wedding down! We’ll see if Arya can refrain from killing
the Hound a little longer, or if she gets back to her mother and brother for
the wedding at the Twins with both hands. The Hound is also a second son and despite
his mutilation, is nowhere near the monster that his brother The Mountain is.
People snore! Surely that’s no reason for execution. This was one of two brief
forays away from the three main story arcs, all of which featured second sons
of a different sort.
Take for example Stannnis, the mopiest of all the wannabe
kings in the country. The rightful heir is preparing for a good old fashion
leach-filled sacrifice, and wants his treasonous BFF Davos the Onion Knight to
see the suctioning slaughter. Melisandre did pretty well getting Gendry’s blood
pumping — all over his body — and even puts a leach where the blood really
rushes when the Lord of Light’s red priestess is naked and on top.
Leaches are burnt as the names of Stannis’ foes are spoken
stoically. His right-hand man is out of prison, bringing a tiny bit of literacy
with him. I had to take a moment to be thankful that I learned to read using
sentences like “The cat ran,” rather than the names of the Targaryen family in
crazy Westerosi common tongue. Between reuniting with Davos and blood-burning
symbolism, Stannis seems to be getting a little of his mojo back.
But his mojo is minor league compared to Dany Tarageryn, who
is joined by a whole host of second sons after their longhaired lieutenant
slays the captains and delivers their heads to the mother of dragons. Daario Naharis
was on a mission to kill the Khaleesi and instead delivers her new foes in a
sack, swearing his men, sword and heart to her all at once. Jorah might not
like it, but she’s shown that she loves a man with long hair, and I think we
all loved seeing her naked again (we’re all adults right?). Daario’s old pals,
back before they lost their minds and everything else above the shoulders,
underestimated Daenerys while their loyal lieutenant was falling for her. It’s
another 2,000 troops the Yunkai will have to deal with, and losing their
mercenaries doesn’t bode well. Free the slaves and give up, fellas, or else see
your city burned to the ground. I think the choice is pretty simple.
With all the second-sonning going on last night, we closed
the episode with a first son whose father treats him like he’s no son at all.
Samwell Tarly was a first son, and escaped the crow chaos with Craster’s 23rd
daughter (just an estimate), however Craster’s 47th son (again, an estimate) is
owed to the white walker, who silences the ravens when he comes for what is
owed him. Sam finally proves to Gilly, and the viewers, that he can sack up
when it’s a last resort, stabbing the walker in the back and fleeing as the
ravens swarm the runaways.
I was surprised the white walker went down so easily,
shattering to tiny, frozen bits (maybe the dagger, WHICH HE LEFT BEHIND, had something
to do with it). On Game of Thrones, death is possible for anyone at any time
(pour out a little wine for my homie Ned). Whether the Lord of Light brings you
back once or five times, or men speak of you and build a wall to protect the
kingdom from you, death, if not the one true god, is still on its way like the
ever-impending winter. An officer under your command can put your head in a
knapsack in the name of love at first sight, or a scared little piggy you
brushed aside like long wavy hair in your baby blue white walker eyes can shove
a dagger in your back.
Underestimating your opponents never works out well, whether
you’re overlooking the mother of dragons or daggers of dragon glass, your best
bet is to treat everyone like Cersei treats the Tyrells — like a threat.
No comments:
Post a Comment