The End: Game of Thrones
High in the halls of the kings who are gone
Jenny would dance with her ghosts
The ones she had lost and the ones she had found
And the ones who had loved her the most
Spoilers ahead!
It’s been twenty-six days since the series finale of Game of Thrones aired so that’s probably enough time for me to actually begin to coalesce my thoughts into something resembling coherence. (Don’t remind me how long my Avengers: Endgame piece is taking.)
It’s hard to believe twenty-six days have passed already. I know that’s not an exceptionally long period of time, but the feeling of confusion comes from the fact that it doesn’t feel that long at all. When I was younger, twenty-six days could be a lifetime. Those countdown calendars to bring us closer to vacations or to Christmas or to the end of school would often be around twenty-six days and they felt interminable. But the more time passes in my life, the more it seems like twenty-six days isn’t long at all. The problem is that I still have the idea in my subconscious that twenty-six days is forever. So when I hear that the Game of Thrones series finale aired twenty-six days ago, it really doesn’t feel that way.
It aired while I was visiting friends in Melbourne, Australia, cementing the fact that I watched every episode of the final season in a different location. Out at school, back at home, in Pennsylvania, in Australia. My travels were almost as vast as Daenerys’ over the course of the show.
In Australia, they are obsessed with Thrones, perhaps even more than we are here in the United States. So obsessed with it, in fact, that their HBO equivalent airs Thrones on a loop and when the finale debuted, it aired again and again and again. It’s probably still airing, for all I know. I’ve seen “The Iron Throne” more than any other episode of Thrones. I will never see those scenes or think of them (they’re all memorized in my mind now) without thinking of being with my friend on the other side of the world. That’s pretty special. Thrones always was.
During the time since the finale has aired, I have finished reading the first two books in the series known as The Song of Ice and Fire, “A Game of Thrones” and “A Clash of Kings.” I have also been rewatching the show with my father, who is experiencing it for the first time, and we’ve already made it to “Hardhome” in season five. I’ve been back from Australia for two weeks. I still haven’t defeated jet lag. A lot can happen in twenty-six days, but jet lag‘s defeat is not one of them, apparently.
During that rewatch and initial read, I’ve been able to better crystallize many of my thoughts about those earlier seasons of Game of Thrones. I binged seasons one through six and missed a lot of the character nuances and story intricacies as I really tried to focus on the major points. Watching it a second time allows for a much more thorough understanding of everything going on (there’s a shit ton, though. I still don’t fully get Melisandre or the High Sparrow), and it’s answered many of the questions I had that probably made me seem dumb to my more devoted and obsessed friends. It’s hard to catch everything the first time around!
Many of my reactions are similar to what they were the first time around. “Baelor” and “The Rains of Castamere” are still shocking and heartbreaking. Jaime and Brienne’s story and Arya and the Hound’s story are still the best pairings of the show. Tywin Lannister is still a force of nature. Tyrion Lannister is still the best character of the early goings. Jon Snow and Ygritte is still the most devastating romance. Theon’s arc is still cringe-inducing. And, yes, I still get a rush of adrenaline when Sam approaches Ghost and says, “We need you, buddy.”
But there’s a lot that has jogged my memory about the show. Like how Bronn was always great. How Daenerys was always destined for the ending she found. How Jaqen H’ghar is easily one of the best characters. How much Pycelle sucks. What exactly all of the inciting conflicts on the show were. The weird shift in deepness of Littlefinger’s voice. How Tormund wasn’t really a great character at first. How Bran’s story is actually really compelling and majestic, not boring like I initially thought.
Basically, what I’m trying to say is that Game of Thrones is so, so rich. Richer than all the gold that the Lannisters could ever provide. It is deep and moving, heartbreaking and resonant. An epic like no other, so much can be learned from the pitch perfect dialogue between characters. Whether it’s Varys and Tyrion talking about shit or Maester Aemon guiding the entire character arc of one of my favorites, Jon Snow, every word said is critical. And the weight of a thousand Wun Wuns hangs on each of them.
I really believe that this held true all the way to the final season. To only have six episodes was obviously disappointing. You always want to have more story, after all. I certainly wasn’t ready to leave the universe and Game of Thrones is a story that is definitely served by more details, more growth, more development. It was attached to the endgame, so we did not get that ten episode final season, but what we got was still full of profound melancholy, heart, and optimism. As if it could ever be a nihilistic story to the end.
What we got was the weight of over twenty years of storytelling culminating in an unrelenting barrage of payoffs.
Daenerys’ final descent is shot beautifully as she comes tantalizingly close to what she always coveted, if she’d only realized why she wanted it so badly. But when you lose your empathy (Jorah Mormont), your soul (Missandei), your destiny (Viserion and Rhaegal), and your purpose (Aegon Targaryen), all you have left is your dream.
When you’re as evil as Jaime Lannister was, you can surely be redeemed. But you can never be all good. We see that in the way Brienne tells Jaime’s story. The one he always agonized over. The one Tywin would be ashamed of. But not us. Jaime was loyal to a fault, but that won’t be all he was. Thanks to Brienne, writing from a position she earned. With the help of Jaime along the way. The things we do for love.
And no, Cersei was not killed by Sansa. Or Arya. Or Tyrion. Or anyone except Daenerys, as prophesied at the outset of season five. Buried beneath rubble, people moved on from the rule of Cersei rather quickly. She didn’t deserve better and she probably deserved worse. That’s the cost of her actions. Even when one of the only people she ever loved wasn’t enough at the end of all things.
And her hated brother lives on. Tyrion made a lot of missteps in the end of the story, but there’s no denying he was a different man after he killed Shae and his father. It broke him. Like how his brother broke Bran. I would’ve liked to have seen the conversation between Tyrion and Bran because whatever it was, it led to the two joining forces to rule the realm.
Bran, who knows all, brought balance to the realm by, well, knowing everything. He’s not one to abuse that power, at least, not that we know of. But it’s not really Bran on the throne. He’s the memory of the realm, sure. But in the same way that it was never Joffrey or Tommen who ruled, it’s not really Bran. It’s Tyrion. I’ve already made this case in my power rankings, but it is Tyrion who rules the realm. The cripples, bastards, broken things…and dwarfs.
Jon Snow, the bastard who wasn’t, never wanted to be king. King beyond the wall? Probably. But not the king of the seven (six?) kingdoms. The one who did what was right, no matter what. The one whose birthright never actually mattered because that’s never been what the story is about. He didn’t need to be Lyanna Stark’s son to matter. He mattered way before anyone ever knew about that. Only history and tradition (and Catelyn) thought he didn’t. Jon Snow never wanted a happy ending. He pretty much has one. At the cost of love. Perhaps saving the realm will be enough to sing his song. (Who has the more beautiful singing voice? Bronn or Podrick?)
Just like Arya Stark did. I always knew Arya was destined for something profound, from the minute she balanced on one leg in King’s Landing, after training with Syrio. My gut told me that the throne was hers, but I was always wary because of how she was utterly disinterested in that. Instead, my gut feeling was about the fact that Arya killed the Night King, ended the long night, and became the prince who was promised. A journey like no other. I don’t think I will ever watch “Sandor. Thank you.” without full sobbing.
I’m not going to pretend the final season was flawless. I know many of the above stories are some of the fans’ biggest problems. I love the endings for all of these characters, except for Jaime, whose ending makes sense, but is still to complicated to actually love. But I know many people didn’t. Which is fine, people are always welcome to their opinions obviously, just grow up and stop making petitions about it and stop threatening everyone who worked hard to make this show.
We’ve never seen anything like this on television and the ending was impossibly beautiful, tragic, hopeful, as I’ve already said. But it was not without fault. Conleth Hill acted amazingly, but Varys’ arc seemed somewhat shoehorned. It seemed like a missed opportunity to have Bronn not at the battle against the white walkers. Grey Worm was weird, to say the least, in the finale. A lot of the logistics weren’t quite there (easily forgivable because storytelling cannot ever be logically perfect). Plot armor definitely crept in, but to root for the opposite seems strange anyway. And the point of Bran’s and Arya’s stories? I like their endings and what they learned and how they developed along the way, but the point of their missions (unless the rejection of them was the point) are perhaps best left for the books to determine, if ever George R.R. Martin writes them.
That being said, I still loved the final season. “The Last of the Starks” had an excellent first forty minutes, but the rest of it did not land for me. Aside from that, every other episode was phenomenal. “Winterfell” was a masterful tease that would be mind blowing for fans to comprehend in the early seasons. “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” is one of my two favorite episodes. “The Long Night” is truly remarkable, if a bit hard to see at times. “The Bells” is awe-inspiring television (Clegane Bowl alone deserves an Emmy) and “The Iron Throne” is about a perfect an ending as you can get in a limited run. Season eight was really great. I bet history will be kind to it.
Personally, I know I miss it desperately already. I miss thinking about these characters and where they might go next and what they might say to each other. I miss the world, as cruel and unrelenting as it might have been. I miss the heart and the legacy behind it. I just miss it.
It’s undoubtedly one of the shows of the decade, of the century. Of all-time, really. To not have it on anymore is to miss that element of mono-culture and of history. Journey, adventure, characters we love, and those we hate. But they’ve concluded now and it’s time to come to terms with the fact that Thrones belongs to the realm of every other beloved epic that has come to an end. Harry Potter is complete. The Lord of the Rings is finished. Marvel’s “Infinity Saga” has concluded. We can return to them whenever we want, but we will always know how they end. Game of Thrones is over and I just miss it. I bet we all do.
It took a long time to realize what Thrones means to me and since I cannot speak about what it means to all of you, all I can do is write what it means to me. For a while, I only thought it was a perfect fantasy series that didn’t quite reach the heights of my favorite stories, but was certainly exceptional television that was worthy of the Best Drama Emmy. But now, I realize it means a lot more to me than that.
“Never forget what you are,” “Not today,” “Chaos is a ladder,” “Our enemy doesn’t tire.” There are many quotes that are pretty much only applicable to the universe of Westeros and Essos and the rest-os. But every now and then, we got a one-liner that could shape a person’s life.
“Love is the death of duty.” “That is the only time a man can be brave.” These are the ones that humanized a story that was defined by many as being all about dragons and magic and armor and swords. When it was really about people and relationships.
I love Game of Thrones for showing me that the bonds we forge with the people we love are vital. Even if we’re only traveling with them for a year in the Riverlands. Or even if we say goodbye to them, expect never to see them again, or even think them dead.
Jon Snow and Arya Stark are shown to have an extremely close bond with one another. Jon gives her Needle and it’s the one thing Arya cannot bear to part with when she arrives in Braavos. They hadn’t seen each other in over three years by that point and they probably thought they’d never see each other again. Which is why their reunion in “Winterfell” is so beautiful and their departure in “The Iron Throne” so heartwrenching all over again. But she still has Needle, as they embrace, he holds the back of her head, and they cry. They’ll probably never see each other again. But they’re with each other wherever they go. Jon isn’t Jon without Arya. She isn’t herself without Jon. The weight of their relationship and what they learned from one another will shape them for the rest of their lives. And if they ever meet again, it’ll be just as beautiful. It always will be.
The realm is vast and the show has made a point of showing how much traveling is required to get from one place to another. Oaths and laws can separate loved ones. Tradition and curses can, too. And when Jon is sentenced to the wall and then decides to go beyond it, that probably means he will never see Arya again, who is currently sailing to find out what is west of Westeros. They might as well be as far apart from each other as Boston, Massachusetts and Melbourne, Victoria.
For one shimmering moment, everyone Jon Snow cared about (who was still alive) was in one place. Sam, Daenerys, Edd, Tormund, Arya, Sansa, Bran, Gilly, Davos, Ghost. They were all in the same place. But Davos, Sam, Bran, and Gilly eventually ended up in King’s Landing. Edd died. Sansa stayed in the north. He had to kill Daenerys. Arya departed. And he went beyond the wall, with Tormund, Ghost, and his legacy. Would Jon have been happy with Arya? Of course. Would he have been happy in Winterfell with Sansa? Definitely. Would he have been happy in King’s Landing, with the friends he’d made? Without a doubt. But he’s beyond the wall now. He’s probably traumatized, but he will still find happiness with Tormund and Ghost and the people he united. If he went to King’s Landing, he’d miss Sansa and Arya and Tormund. If he went to Winterfell, he’d miss Sam and Davos and Tormund and Arya. If he went with Arya, he’d miss everyone else. No matter where he goes, there’s someone to miss.
But they all still shaped him. And wherever he ends up, he will always remember them. The world is vast and there are many options to follow, even if all of them take up equal space in your heart. There’s always going to be somewhere, someone to yearn for. And to see the world be so expansive in Game of Thrones and yet Tormund can still tackle Jon with a laugh when they reunite and Arya and Jon can embrace as if eight years of hardship haven’t passed between them. The love doesn’t die. The love didn’t even flicker. To know the world is wide and the true love between friends and family can be out there, at a distance, is a hardship. To see that love as strong as always, despite the vastness of the world, of Game of Thrones, is a reassurance. In a show so vastly cynical and nihilistic and demented, it was an unexpected salve. A hug, a cradling of the back of the head, a hush. The hope that we’re all going to be okay when the ones who we love guide us, change us, and never leave us. It’s all we can hope for in this world and it’s all we can hold onto.
Having been gone from Australia for two weeks, I’m shaken to think that those two weeks are the beginning of a lifetime apart. When I left my friends in that country, two of the people nearest to my heart, I left with the knowledge that I may never see them again. That all we may have in front of us is the same sort of drifting apart that I wish Pangea never did, so we could still be close to one another. The comfort from the distance of Thrones is there and this rewatch has been the only thing keeping me afloat during an unexpectedly depressive time this June. I’m looking forward to getting back to season eight so I can see Jon and Arya greet each other again in Winterfell. And I can remember what a reunion like that feels like. And I can hope that I may one day feel it again.
Over the years, Game of Thrones made me feel a lot of things. I expect it will make me feel that, too.
