Margaery Tyrell: The Fandom Remembers
The worst death in all of Game of Thrones?
The most vengeful show in America cleaned house on Sunday during its sixth season finale. Essentially all the major narrative threads were addressed, and in a way, concluded. There is still a whole hell of a lot to sort out, of course, but after five seasons of setting up the Risk board, it looks like HBO is finally letting the war begin.
The show hasn’t exactly been spinning its wheels this whole time, but in way—yeah, it kind of has. How often have we said to ourselves:
- “But where the fuck is Bran going?”
- “Wait, so when and how is Tommen going to die, because he’s too delicate for this world.”
- “If there isn’t a single Stark family reunion soon I’m going to fucking kill someone.”
- “I love Sam, but this guy is being a total bitch.”
- “Is this masters vs. slaves plot ever going to end so Daenarys can get on with her God damn usurping of the crown?”
- “Seriously tho what is ‘Hodor?’”
- “Are there any direwolves even left???”
- “But Jorah never got to say I love you!!!!!”
- “I love Melisandre but I kind of need her to get hers at some point.”
- “Where is this Jon Snow thing going?”
- “A GIRL BETTER HAVE A FUCKING PLOT ADVANCEMENT, AM I RIGHT????”
and
- “Honestly, HONESTLY WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING WITH BRAN?”
But for me, personally, the biggest question has always been — since episode 3 of season 2 when she first showed her glorious, puckered, heart-shaped face—“How is the amazing Margaery Tyrell long con going to end?!”
Ever since she arrived in King’s Landing she has been the woman to beat, gliding past Cersei by bedding both of her sons, charming the shit out of everyone, flipping her hair during conversations with her brother while he’s naked in bed with another man and seducing the viewers just like she seduced all those people on screen. Lie to me, Margaery! I don’t even care!
Margaery scammed her way through so much, and there was so much promise for her character. You kind of wanted to hate her, but she had you at “Hello.” When she walked into Tommen’s room and he thought it was his cat, Sir Pounce, but it was actually Margaery tip-toeing through the dark to ensorcel him with her scheming magic, that’s basically what she did to all of us.
She earned her place in the Red Keep. If she hadn’t been angling to have sex with all of her male heirs, Cersei and Margaery probably would have been best friends in another life! Ah, the loss of a meaningful female friendship between women who are uniquely positioned to understand and empathize with one another in an ultra-patriarchy — I weep for the missed opportunities.
We could abide the wheel-spinning with Margaery, because we knew it would pay off. We knew in our bones! We knew that she would ascend to a point where she was untouchable, even from the hands of Cersei, and would get her brother back in the game so he could have all the lovers he wanted in Westeros. We knew she would take the life she managed to hold on to through her marriage with Joffrey and rise, all the while serving that side-eye for so many seasons to come.
With the exception of Sansa, I was more excited for the development of Margaery Tyrell than any other character, and then on Sunday she was fucking SNATCHED away from us! Incinerated by Wildfire, because some motherfucking pilgrim in a dirty smock under-estimated Cersei Lannister. And the number one rule that Margaery clocked as soon as she hit King’s Landing was: You never underestimate Cersei Lannister. To watch her burn because of someone else’s stupidity was so cold. SO COLD.
This perfect bitch survived JOFFREY.
And she survived imprisonment at the hands of Pope Francis aka Jonathan Pryce aka The High Sparrow.
LOOK AT THAT FACE! That face was DESTINED for something! That face was destined to embark on a lesbian plotline with Sansa!
But she wasn’t. She was destined to die, surrounded by unattractive, boring normals — people who weren’t good enough to stand within a five-foot halo of Natalie Dormer. Sick.
Cersei burned a substantial portion of the royal court and the entire church of Sparrow people, and I didn’t give a damn. All I could think about was “MARGAERYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!” Tommen understood. He probably had more to live for; he was king after all, but maybe he didn’t. He knew that he peaked at Margaery, and without her to run interference he was doomed to a life of watching his mom kill anyone else who became marginally important to him. So, he did the only thing he could do:
This was, by far, the most satisfying, fan-servicy season of Thrones to date, and pretty much all of those above questions were addressed and answered. But the MacGuffin of Margaery long-gaming the crown was a rude move, and one that a fandom as beaten down as ours can’t passively accept. Especially for us women. Margaery was our girl taking it back in King’s Landing! And when she handed the note with a rose on it to her grandmother, Olenna, and told her to get the hell out of dodge, we knew it was because there would be too much fall out from the fruit of her machinations, and she didn’t want her family’s badass matriarch taking any heat for it.
But it turns out she just needed to be spared from burning alive with her grandchildren.
We will miss you, Margaery Tyrell. Your face, your fierceness, your everything. At first I was crushed when the season ended, but then I realized I was happy not to have to sit through more episodes so soon after The Fire that wouldn’t have you in them.
Now, all we have left are our dreams.
