Welcome back to the most painful and treacherous time of the year: Game of Thrones season. Last night was the season 6 premiere and a lot of the questions that have been plaguing us since last year were answered, albeit vaguely and in an unsatisfying way. Jon is still dead, Arya is still blind, and Sansa managed to survive her thirty-foot plummet to the rock hard frozen ground with her kneecaps intact. The whole episode was basically a setup for an entire season of revenge seeking, but that doesn’t mean there still wasn’t a good share of death and destruction to tide us over.
After being punished with blindness last season for abusing her many faced privileges in order to murder Meren Trout, things have not gotten any better for Arya. This shouldn’t be all that surprising, as literally nothing has gone her way in the past six years. We find her on a dirty street begging for money, that is until that bitch waif from the House of Black and White shows up and starts beating her with a stick. You know, gotta keep the blind orphan humble.
Waif: Your blind fighting is pathetic. See you tomorrow ha ha. GET IT. YOU’RE BLIND.
Arya: My life is a never-ending hellscape.
In a moment of rare tenderness, Ramsey whispers sweet nothings like, “Your pain will be paid for 1,000 times over, I wish you could be here to watch,” to his dead psycho girlfriend, Myranda. This is basically some Nicholas Sparks-caliber shit considering his typical behavior, and you’re almost touched until he tells the guards to feed her body to the hounds. So close to real human emotion, Ramsey, so close.
After giving him a generous 15 seconds to recover from the death of his soul mate, Papa Bolton compliments Ramsey’s army leading abilities and then immediately undercuts his own appreciation by pointing out that none of it matters without Sansa there to garner the support of the rest of the northern families. Just in case his passive disappointment wasn’t clear enough, he solidifies Ramsey’s raging daddy issues by threatening his status with the reminder that a newborn son is coming any day now. Honestly, this man makes Tywin Lannister seem like a warm and loving father.
Out in the frozen tundra, Sansa and Theon are running for their lives on legs that clearly aren’t broken despite their plummet from the turret of a castle just minutes before. Their mad dash for safety is cut short by the arrival of the Bolton’s men.
Guard: I can’t wait to see what Ramsey cuts off of you next
Theon: Honestly, you really gotta put me on blast like that?
Just when it looks like everyone was going to make a very sad return to Winterfell, the day is saved by the arrival of Brienne and Podrick (something no one has ever said before). After five full seasons of showing up to the right place at the wrong time and failing to save the people she swore to protect, Brienne finally gets it right. She and Pod run train on the Bolton’s men, with a quick assist by Theon, and then four years of daydreams come to fruition when she finally gets to pledge her loyalty to Sansa, who actually accepts it this time. A questionable call on her part, as Brienne’s track record is faulty at best, but it’s nice to see Sansa finally catch a fucking break.
Cersei is looking alarmingly serene, which means that a good amount of time must have passed since her infamous walk of shame through the city. Or she’s had a gallon of wine today, you never know. A maid comes in to alert her of the arrival of a ship from Dorne, and her face lights up like a little kid on Christmas.
Cersei: Finally! Reunited with my beloved daughter that I haven’t seen in years.
Every audience member across the world: Oh god. Oh fuck. Ohhhhhh nooooo.
All it takes is a grim nod from Jaime to confirm what Cersei probably already knew to be true: Another one of her kids is dead, and this one wasn’t even a psychopathic dictator. It’s hard out here for children of incest.
Instead of flying into an all-consuming, wine-fueled rage like we expected, Cersei gets depressingly introspective. She doesn’t even blame Jaime, her go to move upon the death of any family member, because this was all prophesized by that sketch witch that we met via flashback in the season five premiere.
Cersei: Myrcella was so kind, so pure. Idk how she came out of me.
Jaime: Honestly, that’s a solid point.
For the fourth time this episode, someone swears to seek vengeance for the things they’ve suffered; in this case, it’s Jaime promising to avenge everything that the Lannisters have lost.
Jaime: Fuck everyone who isn’t us.
Everyone: Uh, that’s kind of why you’re in this entire situation in the first place, bruh.
It would appear that Prince Doran has a lot more to worry about than the wrath of the Lannisters. A quick family jaunt in the gardens of the palace gets really shitty really fast when he is informed that Myrcella died before she reached King’s Landing, and then is instantly killed by Illyria. She and the snakes planned their own little coup, because the people of Dorne weren’t all that psyched about Doran not retaliating for the death of two of his siblings at the hand of Westeros. To be fair, Oberyn kind of fucked himself over on that front, but apparently no one else sees it that way.
Literally as I am uterring to myself “I hope Trystane doesn’t die, he’s so hot,” the Sand Snakes bust into his arts and crafts session and stick a spear through his pretty face.
Honestly, I only have myself to blame for openly hoping someone on this show would survive. At least we still have Dario.
Tyrion and Varys are taking a leisurely stroll throughout the city, completely unattended despite the widespread mutiny that went down not all that long ago. Their friendly banter consists of Tyrion reminding Varys that he doesn’t have a dick and then accidentally threatening to eat a poor woman’s baby while attempting to give her money. All I could think about the entire time is how beautiful their spinoff sitcom would be.
The discussion gets serious when the two circle back to the issue at hand: Mereen is in ruins and Danaerys isn’t quite as popular as she was when she first arrived. The Sons of Harpy are still very much an issue, but as Tyrion points out, it’s kind of difficult to fight an enemy you don’t know.
This very poignant train of thought is interrupted by a bunch of people running in terror away from the docks. Upon investigation, Tyrion and Varys find that the Sons of Harpy have set fire to their entire fleet of ships. Looks like no one is leaving for Westeros anytime soon.
Off in the grasslands, Jorah and Dario are still searching for Khaleesi. I’m thinking their sitcom would be far less entertaining: two grown men walking around while they bitch about being in love with the same teenager.
Dario: Isn’t it frustrating loving someone who doesn’t want you back?
Jorah: At least you get to bang her.
It looks like Jorah’s grayscale is escalating, and you just know his dying act is going to be something sacrificial in Danaerys’ honor. I’m already annoyed.
The two of them stumble across the place where Khaleesi was picked up by the Dothraki, something Jorah deduces by staring at tracks in the ground and then finding her ring. Not pictured: him spending the rest of the night sniffing it.
In an episode full of vengeance and death (so you know, a typical Game of Thrones affair) comedic relief comes in the least likely form: the Dothraki. Danaerys was picked up by an unfamiliar khalasar, who just assume she’s a dumb white girl who doesn’t understand their language. This means that she gets to trail behind two assholes while they discuss whether her carpet matches her drapes, and then talk about sticking it in her butt. Just dudes being dudes.
Upon arrival at the base camp, Danaerys is presented to the Khal and his band of idiot advisors. Obviously, because this is Game of Thrones, the Khal’s immediate plan is to rape Khaleesi and hope that he gets a son out of it. She decides to take this moment to let everyone know that she definitely understands them and that no sexy times will be happening with any of the parties involved. At this point, a conversation ensues that honestly wouldn’t have been out of place in the halls of any high school across America.
Khal: Bro, what’s better than seeing a super hot chick naked for the first time? Nothing.
Advisor 1: Idk man, killing other Khals is pretty cool.
Khal: Alright, yeah, I’ll give you that.
Advisor 2: Breaking in new horses is also pretty fucking sweet.
Khal: I mean, sure? But, like, nake—
Advisor 1: Oh yeah, and like, sacking a city and taking it for your own. So prime.
Khal: Ok, but—
Advisor 2: YO dude you’re right, that is the best. You know what else ro—
Khal: I THINK WE’VE ESTABLISHED THAT NAKED WOMEN ARE TOP FIVE JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.
It really happened, and it was beautiful. Just goes to show that fuckboys are omnipresent, transcending reality and infiltrating even our fantasy entertainment.
So it turns out that the only women that the Dothraki respect are the widows of old Khals, because, you know, women are only valued through their relation to men. Now, instead of being repeatedly gang raped, Khaleesi is just going to be banished to some temple to live with the rest of the Khal widows. Honestly, things could be worse. She’ll probably just liberate all of them and then come back to beat the shit out of the assholes who wouldn’t stop talking about her pubes.
Still reeling from the death of his boyfriend Stannis, it would appear that Davos has found someone new to fanboy over: a still very dead Jon Snow. Davos and the last five loyal members of the Night’s Watch collect Jon’s body and ghost and set up camp in one of the many rooms in the castle. It’s here that Jon’s friends decide that it’s time to avenge his death, chances of survival be damned. Luckily Davos is there to talk some sense into everyone.
Jon’s Friends: We are prepared to die tonight in honor of Jon
Davos: Or…OR…we could recruit some help from other people who might owe Jon a favor * cough * THE WILDLINGS *cough *
Melisandre shows up, probably catching the last dying whiff of Jon’s pheromones, and is visibly distraught upon discovering his death.
Melisandre: But I saw him in the flames, fighting at Winterfell.
Davos: Well you also saw the live burning of a twelve-year-old as a strategic military move SO your flames are the fucking worst.
Meanwhile, in the main hall, Thorne is very open and very unapologetic about killing Jon.
Thorne: I am guilty of no crimes.
The other men: You committed treason by murdering the Lord Commander.
Thorne: Alright, you’ve got me there.
Thorne, who appears to have appointed himself as interim Lord Commander, claims that he did what he had to do to protect the Night’s Watch and Castle Black from Jon’s rule. Everyone takes this time to reflect and realize that they still aren’t chill with the whole wildling situation, and with a collective shrug the issue is pretty much forgotten.
After easing tensions amongst the easily persuaded men, Thorne moves on to the Jon Snow loyalists still camped out in their room with a decaying body and an angry dire wolf. Spirits are high.
He presents Davos with an option: surrender by nightfall and everyone will be forgiven. No one believes this for even a second, but they pretend to consider it to buy themselves some time. For some reason no one is asking the question we’ve all been waiting for: why the fuck doesn’t Melisandre just bring Jon back to life? Instead, Davos tries to assure the men that she’d be a solid ally in their battle against Thorne. Everyone is a little skeptical about this plan of attack.
“What’s one redhead going to do against 40 armed men?” Uh, clearly the men of the Night’s Watch have never met my mother. They also haven’t been witness to the crazy shit Melisandre is capable of when she starts getting all erotic and magical.
Speaking of Melisandre, we cut to her quarters where it appears she’s been pouting all day. And what does our Red Lady do when she’s not feeling good? Take her clothes off, of course. Don’t get too excited, because her strip tease goes south very quickly when she removes her necklace and instantly transforms into Yzma from The Emperor’s New Groove.
Instead of the miraculous act of magic that we’ve all been praying for since last season, Melisandre dejectedly crawls into bed naked. It was like watching live footage of my own hungover self, but with a lot more wrinkles.
Episodes Since Dario’s Butt: Too many to count, and I have a feeling we’re going to have a very dry season
MVB (Most Valuable Betch): Melisandre
Skirting all responsibilities by getting naked and taking a nap. I can’t even be mad, because it’s a move any one of us would make.