Note: With the biggest cast in television it can be hard to keep all the names and faces straight. Thus the first mention of each character contains a link to a picture of them which will open in a new tab.

After the season premiere, “Valar Dohaeris,” got us caught up with all our favorite characters, this week’s episode was devoted to table-setting. Or, well, it would’ve been if this was any other show. Instead, “Dark Wings, Dark Words” began placing all those narrative dominoes for the characters lucky enough to appear in both episodes while embarking on the same “hey, remember these guys?” quest for Arya, Bran, and the rest of the folks we’d yet to see.

As we all know by now, Game of Thrones has a sprawling world and the biggest cast on TV, but despite it being nigh impossible, the writers are generally able to link all those storylines with a shared episodic theme. In the case of “Valar Dohaeris,” which is high valyrian for “all men must serve,” that theme was the idea of servitude. We got no such link this week, but that doesn’t mean the writers couldn’t find a way to bounce gracefully between all those separate characters and locations. It wasn’t so fancy as a shared theme, however. Instead, the characters in one scene would mention somebody’s name, and then we’d be whisked away thousands of miles to see what they’re up to. One scene for instance was centered around Robb and Catelyn, but when they brought up Theon Greyjoy, suddenly we’re in some dungeon watching the dude get tortured. The same concept was utilized throughout the episode, and while it’s less seamless than a fancy thematic connection, it got the job done.

Bran Makes a Friend (or Two)

Things begin inside Bran’s head. The Three-Eyed Raven (or Crow for my fellow book readers, yeah, I don’t know why they changed that either) has shown up in his dreams again. He attempts to shoot it with an arrow, complete with the same encouragement he got from Jon, Robb, and his father while practicing marksmanship way back in the pilot. Bran misses, and a new character shows up to tell him he can’t killed the Crow—er, Raven—because “the Raven is you.” We later discover the new guy is Jojen Reed, son of Howland, one of his brother’s bannermen and his father’s oldest friends (Howland even saved Ned’s life during the Rebellion). Jojen, it seems, knows a thing or two about Bran’s premonitory and wolf-inhabiting dreams. He experiences the former himself and knows enough about the latter that he can help Bran take control of his skinchanging abilities. Sounds like a pretty good friend to have if you ask me.

Meanwhile, Jojen’s sister, Meera, and Osha have an unexpected bonding of the warrior women moment. Osha mocks Jojen for needing his sister to protect and do the fighting for him, to which Meera responds, “Some people will always need help. That doesn’t mean they’re not worth helping.” As with so many lines on this show, this one has a double meaning: Meera’s talking about her brother, but she’s also referring to Bran, who they’ve come so far to help. Osha, of course, has already been helping Bran despite the fact that he’ll “always need help” because she’s recognized how special he is.

The Buddy Comedy Continues

I often joked last year that the Jaime and Brienne storyline was reminiscent of a buddy comedy. Just imagine this in a movie trailer voice: When two polar opposites are shackled together—literally—and forced to go on a road trip, anything can happen (insert funny clip), but laughs are certain. Prince Charming and the warrior woman you wouldn’t want to dance with (clip of sword fight, indicating double meaning of dance) are sure to give each other a hard time. But when greater obstacles emerge, will learning about each other lead to learning about themselves? Can the two discover how to play nice, or will their refusal to work together drown them both? Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth star in “The Bear and the Maiden Fair.” Rated R. In theaters four-seven-thirteen.

The Jaime and Brienne scenes don’t offer the same opportunity for exposition and fresh perspectives that their book counterparts do, but that’s a given. The medium makes it tons more difficult and time-consuming, but the writers, directors, and actors have done a fantastic job of letting us inside these character’s heads without actually letting us inside their heads. The way Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (Jaime) delivers a line like “I don’t blame him, and I don’t blame you either. We don’t get to choose who we love,” really underscores the depth of his love for Cersei, just as Brienne’s reaction to his earlier crack about Renly’s homosexuality shows us the way she felt about her king. Likewise, when Jaime yanks one of Brienne’s swords away, his smile and body language say it all. He moves about and casually swings the sword like it’s a part of his arm. It’s been ages since he held a sword, meaning it’s been ages since he felt whole.

It’s exactly this kind of character defining moment that gets them in trouble with those Bolton men. Jaime’s impudence in starting a fight certainly made it easier to find them. But they’re truly caught because after coming across a seemingly-innocent fellow traveler, the ultra-honorable Brienne assumed he was just that, innocent, and let him walk. Jaime, on the other hand, is looking out for number one. He insists the man recognized him and argues that they should kill him either way just to be safe. In the end, it’s Brienne’s honor that gets them a ticket to see Roose Bolton at Harrenhal.

Sansa’s Date with the Tyrells

Meanwhile in King’s Landing, Sansa is invited to dine with Margaery Tyrell, the queen to be, and her grandmother Olenna Tyrell, also known as the “Queen of Thorns.” The date isn’t just about lemon cakes and compliments, however. With Margaery now betrothed to Joffrey, the Tyrells want to know what the king is like, and who better to ask but his former beau? At first, Sansa believes she’s being set up, having learned that the king (and Queen Regent) have ears everywhere the hard way. But this is no trick. Margaery is far more in tune with political realities and the ways of the world than Sansa was when she first arrived at court, no doubt thanks to her prickly grandmother being unafraid to call bullshit—on anyone or anything. The Tyrells have heard some nasty rumors about Joff, and they want to know if there’s any truth behind them.

It takes a bit of prodding, but they finally get Sansa to speak. “He’s a monster,” she says. But that won’t affect their course of action. Margaery will marry Joffrey (her father, or the “Lord Oaf of Highgarden” as his mother calls him) regardless, she simply wants to do so with her eyes open. We’ve known from the very beginning that Marge is a player, not a pawn, and the way she “seduces” Joffrey by feigning interest in his phallic crossbow makes that clear (if a sword is an extension of Jaime’s arm, than that crossbow is an extension of Joff’s dick). Even more impressive, however, is the effect Margaery seems to be having on Joffrey even when she’s not around. King Douche has made it increasingly clear that his mother, Cersei, is no longer the number one queen on the charts or in his heart. That probably won’t make her any more of a jealous, controlling psycho.

Arya Stark and the Brotherhood without Banners, with Special Guest The Hound

When the camera finds its way to Arya for the first time this season, she, Gendry, and Hot Pie are trying to find her grandfather’s castle, Riverrun, and hoping her brother and mother are inside its walls. As they wander about the Riverlands, they discuss their most recent fun-filled activity: the escape from Harrenhal with the help of Jaqen H’ghar. In a fantastic bit of Lampshade Hanging, Gendry wants an explanation for something many of us have been wondering ourselves: “He offered to kill any three people you wanted. Dead. All you had to do was give him the names. Anyone. You could have picked King Joffrey. You could have picked Tywin Lannister… You could have ended the war.” Arya tells him to shut up about it because they got out of Harrenhal and that’s all that matters. For Gendry, myself, and the rest of the fans who are wondering why Arya didn’t just say “Joffrey Baratheon,” my explanation may not be entirely satisfying. But it’s correct from a narrative standpoint.

Badass though she might be, Arya is still a child. It may be harder for her to understand big-picture stuff like ending the war with a whisper when the people around her are being tortured and dying. Her first selection was the Tickler for two reasons: First, she hadn’t seen Jaqen deliver yet. In that position, offering the Tickler is a win-win (or more accurately a win-draw). If Jaqen does follow through, the man directly responsible for the captives’ lives being a living hell will be no more. If he’s bullshitting her, then things stay exactly as they are. OK, so once she knows Jaqen’s legit, why doesn’t she give up Tywin? Recall the situation at Harrenhal before Tywin arrived: the torture, execution, incarceration, and so on. Tywin arrives and takes the prisoners out of a cage and puts them to work. Gendry is back to banging an anvil, Hot Pie is back to baking hot pies, and Arya recieves a pretty comfy position as his personal cupbearer. She may have feared that Tywin’s death would have meant a return to the way things were. Furthermore, she formed an odd kind of father-daughter bond with the man over the course of the season. So she waits, and uses the second kill to save her own skin when Amory Lorch discovers she’s stolen a message from Tywin’s chambers. By the time she puts it together that killing Tywin kills the Lannister war effort, it’s too late. So she uses Jaqen’s rules against him so that he’ll help them escape. Now, back to season three.

So Arya and company cross paths with Thoros of Myr and the rest of his cohorts in the Brotherhoood without Banners. Although Thoros claims that while “The Lords of Westeros want to burn the countryside. We’re trying to save it,” it’s not immediately clear if he’s telling the truth or if the trio are being kidnapped by your standard gang of outlaws. I don’t want to reveal too much, we’ll doubtlessly get a lot more information on the Brotherhood in the coming weeks, but I think it’s clear by episode’s ends that Thoros’ boast is closer to the truth than the outlaw argument (but as always there are no blacks and whites in Game of Thrones, only shades of grey). The Brotherhood has captured Sandor Clegane, the Hound, and he’s the one that reveals Arya’s identity. Even if the Brotherhood are closer to “good guys” than “bad guys,” they still need to seize an opportunity when it comes to them, and ransoming a daughter of one of the most powerful houses in the kingdoms is a hell of an opportunity. It’s a bold strategy, Cotton, let’s see if it works out for ‘em.

A Few More Things: 

Here’s a quick rundown of the scenes/characters we didn’t get to cover:

1) Robb heads for Riverrun to attend his maternal grandfather’s funeral while Roose Bolton is left to garrison Harrenhal. He and Catelyn receive some bad news: Theon and the Ironmen (ostensibly) razed Winterfell and murdered Bran and Rickon before bolting back to the Iron Islands. But wait, that doesn’t fit with what we saw happen in last season’s finale, nor with Theon being tortured. What’s really going on?

-Catelyn discusses a young Jon Snow in a fantastic monologue. Or rather, it would’ve been fantastic if it gelled at all with what we know of her character thus far. A great actress puts on a great show, but that seems to be all it has to offer. I get that there are a lot of characters and not enough monologues to go around. But despite being well-written and well-acted, the inconsistency makes it seem like a self-indulgent waste of screentime.

2) One of the men present for said torture tells claims he was sent by Theon’s sister, Yara. Can he be trusted? Is he friend or foe?

3) Shae warns Sansa about Littlefinger, and later converses with Tyrion about protecting her. At least one person in this list is smart enough to realize that people and things may not always be as they seem.

4) King Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, or your weekly proof that “there’s no cure for being a cunt.”

5) Jon Snow and Mance Rayder have a little chat about how he got so many diverse tribes to follow him south. It’s simple really, they’ll die if they don’t.

6) Meanwhile, Sam is exhausted as the remaining members of the Watch begin the trudge back to the Wall. He takes a break, seeing more benefit in dying than taking another step. But he’s able to get moving with some help from his friends, along with a direct order from the Old Bear, “I command you not to die.” Does the Watch need every last man, or does Mormont have big plans for young Mr. Tarly?

And some random musings:

-In general, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau has put on a fantastic English accent throughout the series. You might never have guessed he was Danish… until this week. A few of his early lines this week were just… off. His Scandinavian roots managed to seep through a bit.

-Holy puberty, Branman

-For those who don’t know, the episode’s title, “Dark Wings, Dark Words” refers to a common saying in the show’s universe. Messages are carried to far away castles by raven in Westeros. The idea behind the phrase is that more often than not, the birds (and their dark wings) bring bad news (dark words).

Check out the preview for next week’s episode below and follow the writer on Twitter @NateKreichman.

Note: With the biggest cast in television it can be hard to keep all the names and faces straight. Thus the first mention of each character contains a link to a picture of them which will open in a new tab.

Each of Game of Thrones‘ first two seasons followed a structural pattern, one which will be repeated in the newest season. Episode nine, of course, brings us the season’s “woah moment.” Whether it’s Ned Stark losing a head or the Battle of Blackwater Bay (not to mention the doozy they’ve got in store this year), episode nine leaves the story forever altered. The finales that follow are dedicated to picking up the pieces. Episode ten shows each character’s reaction to the “woah moment,” cramming in conclusions and cliffhangers—the beginnings of the plotlines to come. Each season’s premiere, then, is about picking up where we left off and setting the table for where we hope to go, building on the foundations laid in the previous season’s finale (yes, even season one was building on “a previous season,” the events that came before it just happen to be a hypothetical one we didn’t get to see firsthand). The call and response of the show’s finales and premieres echo the necessary warm-up phase in each subsequent installment of George R.R. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire.”

It shouldn’t come as a tremendous surprise then that the titles of last season’s finale, “Valar Morghulis,” and yesterday’s premiere, “Valar Dohaeris,” are also a call and response. In many places on the continent of Essos, Valar Morghulis is a customary saying, traditionally answered by Valar Dohaeris. The former translates to all men must die in High Valyrian, the latter to all men must serve. With so many widespread and disparate storylines, it’s often difficult to find a single recurring theme in an episode of Game of Thrones. The closest you’ll come in the premiere can be found in the translation of its title: the all encompassing nature of service in the world of the show. Or, as Bob Dylan put it, everybody’s “Gotta Serve Somebody.”

Beyond the Wall

Everyone remembers the exciting ending of the second season: Three horn blasts and Sam coming face-to-face with a White Walker on a dead horse leading a hoard of Walkers and Wights. It’s no surprise then that “Valar Dohaeris” picks up right where we left off in the series’ first cold open. Now as we all know, full-on battle scenes are expensive. Most of last season’s budget went towards “Blackwater.” Most. Towards one episode. It detracts from the episode’s potential for action, but as I’ve mentioned premieres are meant for table setting, and the producers have plenty of things to spend money on more important than this one battle. So as we’ve seen numerous times throughout the series, we get what amounts to a fade to black, the ringing of swords, and fade back in just in time for the plot to move forward. Immediately after rescuing Sam, Lord Commander Mormont asks if he sent the ravens, and berates him when he finds out he didn’t, saying, “That was your job, your only job.” Recall the theme of servitude, Sam is a man of the Watch, and in this at least he has failed in his duties. With only a fraction of the men of the Watch who left for the ranging still breathing, Mormont announces that they need to return to the Wall: “It’s a long march. We know what’s out there, but we have to make it, have to warn them, or before winter’s done, everyone you’ve ever known will be dead.” Such is the duty of the men of the Watch, they serve the kingdoms, they are “the shield that guards the realms of men.”

Meanwhile, Jon is brought before Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall. At first, Jon kneels before Tormund Giantsbane, mistaking him for Mance because the large, gruff warrior is the type of man Jon is used to serving. But the Free Folk are not like the people of Westeros, they kneel for no man, king or otherwise, and choose their own rulers—the title of King Beyond the Wall is not necessarily inherited. Recall that Jon’s idol and former commander Qhorin Halfhand compelled the boy to slay him to gain the Wildlings’ trust, so he could spy on them and bring all he discovers back to The Wall. Jon tells Mance that he’s turning his cloak because he wants to “fight for the side that fights for the living,” but in his heart, Jon still believes the Night’s Watch is that side. Moving forward, the question will be whether the time Jon spends with the Free Folk reinforces this belief or places it in jeopardy. Is Jon a double agent, or a double-double agent?

The Impire Strikes Back

Tyrion fell from grace last season after a member of the Kingsguard attempted to kill him during the Battle of the Blackwater. He believes this was done on Cersei’s orders but has no way to prove it. Regardless, the knight was killed by Tyrion’s squire, Podrick Payne, before he could inflict any more damage than a nasty slash across the face. Tyrion was moved to a dank cell to recover from his wounds while his father, Tywin, claimed his former title and chambers in the Tower of the Hand. What’s more, Tyrion is given very little credit for their victory while his father is proclaimed Savior of the City.

Tyrion served king and family loyally, going above and beyond the call of duty. He did this in spite of the fact that most of his family hates (or at least resents) him. Cersei despises him to such a degree that she sent an assassin to kill him in the heat of battle. Yet far from being covered in glory like his father, Tyrion appears to have been punished more than anything else. So in the premiere, he resolves to visit Tywin and ask what the reward for all his loyal service will be. At first, he asks simply for a bit of gratitude, to which his father responds “Jugglers and singers require applause.” Although he never dreams his father will actually give it to him, what Tyrion really wants is his birthright, Casterly Rock, the seat of House Lannister. Like the Night’s Watch, the Kingsguard pledge not to hold lands or father children, so Jaime is technically ineligible (although he’s already done the latter, you know, with his sister). But while Tywin is willing to grant his son a suitable wife and a position fit for his talents, he says that “I would let myself be consumed by maggots before mocking the family name and making you heir to Casterly Rock.” This fierce rebuke brings to mind a question which runs throughout the episode: At what point does giving oneself over to a cause, to service, mean forfeiting those qualities that make one unique or even individual? I’ve mentioned that in the most ridiculously general of terms, Tyrion is the “good guy” on the “bad team,” and his service leads to that clash. Every man has his breaking point, will Tyrion remain the loyal soldier (literally and otherwise) or be forced to rebel?

Return of The Onion (Knight)

One of last season’s biggest cliffhangers was whether Davos Seaworth had survived the ruin of his ship in Blackwater Bay. Things got a little dire when he failed to pop up in the season finale, but a good rule of thumb while watching Game of Thrones (and other shows) is that unless you see someone die with your own two eyes, they may not necessarily be dead. Few men are more loyal to anything than Davos is to Stannis, who raised him up from low birth and a life of smuggling. Stannis, meanwhile, remains loyal to his cause: He believes himself the one true king, and that means two possible endings: He gains his birthright or dies trying. The toll that steadfastness (among other things, like fathering shadow demons) has taken on Stannis is apparent when Davos arrives on Dragonstone. The king has grown a beard, his hair is graying, and he refuses all visitors, save Melisandre. A commonly repeated idea for Davos is that “loyal service means telling hard truths.” He cannot stand idly by as Melisandre burns prisoners and non-believers alive, and her grip on his king grows tighter and tighter. When she whispers in his ear the same thing she told his now-deceased son, “death by fire is the purest death,” Davos loses it. He pulls out a dagger and attempts to slay the red priestess, an action he believes analogous to telling his king a hard truth. But he fails, and his king condemns him to a dungeon cell. Yet another victim of loyal service.

Daenerys’ New Hope?

Daenerys begins the episode on a ship bound for Astapor. Before she leaves the vessel we see more effects of service as her Dothraki followers (who come from a culture of people who have never set foot on a boat and fear salt water) vomit and stumble around. In the slave city of Astapor, both Dany and the viewer are treated to a glimpse of the Unsullied: eunuch warriors picked as boys for their rigorous training. They lose the ability to feel pain or fear as well as any sense of self. They know only obedience, and understand only duty. The Unsullied are an explicit display of the extremes of the above-mentioned notion that loyal service and individuality are conflicting ideals. Like Stannis, Dany serves her own cause: placing herself on the Iron Throne. She cannot do so without an army, and the Unsullied are among the world’s greatest warriors. Dany, however, is slavery’s greatest enemy. Yet another way individuality can slip away is when one’s ideals are sacrificed for the good of a cause. Is it possible for Dany to remain true to herself if she brings an army of 8,000 slave warriors, each of whom has killed an infant in front of its mother as part of their training, under her command?

As she is walking back to her ship, a little girl/Warlock assassin attacks Dany with the help of some trickery and a manticore. In a sequence that seemed to go over the top in its parallels to the introduction of Obi-Wan Kenobi in the first Star Wars movie (hence the section title references), she is rescued by a man we have not seen in a long time: Ser Barristan Selmy, who was removed from Joffrey’s Kingsguard way back in season one. When Ser Barristan asks for a place in Dany’s Queensguard, both Dany and Jorah appear skeptical, and the latter points out that Ser Barristan served King Robert Baratheon as well. Barristan claims he wants to redeem himself for failing King Aerys II, her father and the last of the Targaryen dynasty to sit the Iron Throne, and making the mistake of serving King Robert while forgetting the “true” Queen. Whether Ser Barristan is truly loyal to Dany’s cause or wishes to serve her for personal reasons (recall his speech after Joffrey fired him, “I am a knight, I will die a knight”) remains ambiguous. Either way, it speaks volumes about the theme of servitude that this man would cross two continents to serve either “the one true queen” or “a ruler who isn’t Joffrey.”

Family Dinner

Although it may be harder to connect to the service theme, Joffrey and Cersei’s dinner scene with Margaery and Loras Tyrell was the highlight of the episode for me. It was a microcosm of the scheming and political intrigue that lie at the show’s heart. It begins when Joffrey, whose motto is “the king can do as he likes,” watches as Margaery gives toys and food to boys at an orphange, sons of men killed in the Battle of the Blackwater. I still can’t figure out whether that look on his face, one denoting a complete inability to comprehend what he’s seeing, is more funny or sad. Why would she help poor people, he wonders, why does she care? Joffrey couldn’t give two shits what the smallfolk think of him. He’s their king, they should worry what he thinks of them, or it’ll be off with their heads.

One person whose opinion does matter to Joffrey, however, is that of Margaery, his new bride to be. Cersei tells the story of the riot to warns Margaery of the dangers of walking around Flea Bottom unprotected (and no doubt put a bit of fear in her, everything Cersei says at the dinner table can be interpreted in more than one way). Joff postures and acts tough, saying their lives were never really danger. Cersei responds that Joff “is his father’s son, we can’t all have a king’s bravery.” Whether she means his father, Jaime, or his “father,” Robert, is impertinent, it works both ways and she may even have intended it as such. My favorite part of the scene came after Margaery describes all the food her family is bringing into the city to help the common people (and gain their trust over the Lannisters). Once again, Joff postures, and talks about how Margaery “has done this sort of… charitable work before.” The way he struggles to find the word “charitable,” as if he’s never used it before and doesn’t entirely understand what it means was hilarious. Cersei is quick to agree that she is sure Margaery knows what she’s doing. Once again the words have a double meaning: Cersei realizes that Margaery is helping the poor, sure, but she’s also playing the game of thrones, gaining the love and trust of the smallfolk for herself and her family. What Cersei may find even more offensive, however, is that Margaery has become her competitor for the king’s love and admiration.

A Few More Things:

-Meanwhile: Robb arrives at Harrenhal to find “two hundred Northmen slaughtered like sheep.” He places Catelyn under a medieval form of house arrest. Among the dead they find a harmless looking old man named Qyburn. Remember the name.

-Also: Littlefinger and Sansa discuss his plan to help her escape. Is Petyr Baelish the savior Sansa has been waiting for?

-No Arya, Bran, Jaime, or Brienne this week, among many others. Yes, there are really that many characters.

-Cersei remarks that she’d heard Tyrion lost his nose, a reference to the Imp’s far more brutal injury in the books. Pure fan service.

-The way the opening sequence changes based on the story continue to make it the best on TV. Winterfell as a smoldering rubble and the Harpy of Astapor were highlights.

Check out the preview for next week’s episode below and follow the writer on Twitter @NateKreichman.

SPOILER WARNING: All events that have occurred in the TV show are fair game. I have read the books but I will not go any further beyond small hints that only fellow book-readers will catch on to. You’ve been warned.

Note: Because it can be hard to keep all the names and faces straight, the first mention of each character contains a link to a picture of them which will open in a new tab.

Things were different this season. There really was no “Ned,” a central character for the viewer to grab on to, and as such, there really wasn’t a central story arc for us to stash all our hopes and dreams in (only to have them crushed, or, you know, sliced off).

Sure, the beginning of last season was confusing. We all know that every time we recommend ”Game of Thrones” to a friend, it’s with the caveat that they’re going to have to fight through the cacophony of misunderstanding that is the first few episodes. All these issues we’re amplified in Season Two, when not only do we have a bucket load of characters (the largest cast on television), but all in different places. Seriously, name a location other than King’s Landing where more than two major characters reside. It can’t be done. And as if that wasn’t enough, the show decided (well, needed) to throw even more characters and locations at us.

It certainly makes for a manageable format for blog posts, but in different hands, the second season of “Game of Thrones” could have been a catastrophic failure. So let’s get a round of applause for showrunners David Benioff and D.B. Weiss, and of course, the cast, namely Peter Dinklage and Alfie Allen, who are headed for Emmy nominations or my name’s Aloysius, and it’s not. I mean that sincerely; whether you’re in a cubicle or your living room wearing your polka dot boxers, I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window. Open it, stick your head out and yell, “I’m mad as hell and I can’t go another year without ‘Game of Thrones‘!”

Think of how ballsy it is, when upwards of ten locations could be present in any given show, to have an entire episode devoted to just one (“Blackwater”), leaving the finale to somehow wrap up every other story line. Amazingly, “Game of Thrones” was able to do it, everything else it had to, and so much more. Now, back to that manageable blog post format, where I’ll discuss the three best (or my three favorite) character and thematic developments of the season.

Arya the Ruthless, Tywin the Old Softy

Out of necessity, Season Two diverged from the books a great deal more than the first season did. Some changes couldn’t be helped, and a slight few were questionable, but most breathed new life into the source material. Perhaps the best and brightest example of this is Arya serving as a cupbearer for Lord Tywin rather than Roose Bolton, one of her brother Robb’s bannermen.

I could get into the complicated scenario by which Arya comes to serve in a Bolton-occupied Harrenhal, but what you need to know is this: while the specifics were changed, the general theme and atmosphere of the arc remained the same, and condensing the scene meant interactions between the fantastic-despite-her-age Maisie Williams and old pro Charles Dance. But more important was the interaction between the two characters, which showed us two things: Arya’s continued growth into a cold killer fending for herself, and a softer side of the impossibly thick-skinned Tywin Lannister.

The line was altered for the show, but in “A Game of Thrones,” Ned tells Arya, “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.” Winter is coming, but Arya has been forced to watch as her pack has been taken from her one by one. She is the lone wolf, and if she hopes to survive she must grow up fast.

As of yet, that hasn’t been a problem. In episode five, “The Ghost of Harrenhal,” Tywin caught her in a lie. Arya claimed she was Maidenpool, but knowing she’s a Northerner, he asks where she’s really from, and Arya’s got the stones to follow it up with another lie. Then she looks him right in the eye and tells him she doesn’t believe Robb can’t be killed, as some in the North believe, because “anyone can be killed.” The subtext here is “even you.” She doesn’t even blink.

We also saw Arya grow from a mouse in a cage whispering names to an assassin, or having an assassin at her disposal at least. Jaqen grants her the greatest power there is in the world of “Game of Thrones,” the power of life and death. She uses her first kill to avenge all those the Tickler tortured, and the second to save her own skin. In perhaps her greatest stroke of genius yet, for her third kill, a girl gives Jaqen his own name, which allows her, Gendry and Hot Pie to escape Harrenhal unharmed.

Conversely, Tywin is known as one of the most ruthless machinators in the realm, which he is, but this season we got to see the other side of the coin — how he got to be that way and why he does the things he does. Tywin’s father Tytos, who was known as the “Toothless Lion,” was “a good man, but a weak man, and nearly destroyed our house and name.” The back story, which we get only second hand in the show, is that of the Reyne-Tarbeck rebellion. When Tywin was just 18, the two houses rebelled because of the perceived vulnerability of the Lannisters. It was Tywin, not Tytos, who went to crush the rebellion, and by the end of the war each of the enemy houses was obliterated and their seats burned. The events were made famous in the song “The Rains of Castamere,” as heard both in the tavern and during the end credits of “Blackwater” (don’t Google it or read YouTube comments to avoid spoilers).

Tywin is a human being, and his discussion of teaching the dyslexic Jaime to read and the way Arya reminds him of Cersei displayed this. But perhaps the greatest example of his humanization are his attempts to protect Arya, who he has no relationship with other than that of servant-master. In “A Man Without Honor,” Tywin told her to say “m’lord” rather than “my lord” if she wants to pass herself off as a commoner. Though he may be a “bad guy” and responsible for countless misdeeds, like every other character in “Game of Thrones,” Tywin is a shade of gray. The man cares about only two things: his family and its name, and he’s doing what he can to protect them in the only way he knows how. If you think about it like that, he and Robb, the “good guy,” really aren’t all that different.

Theon Greyjoy: Kraken or Wolf?

One of the things the show actually did better than the books was display Theon’s inner conflict. First, some back story: six years after Robert overthrew the Targaryens, Theon’s father Balon named himself King of the Iron Islands and rebelled against the Throne. By the time Balon surrendered, his two eldest sons had been killed. As punishment, Theon, his last surviving son, was made a ward of House Stark.

Theon was raised among the Stark children, but he was never one of them. In the finale, he tells Maester Luwin, “I saw [Winterfell for the first time] and I thought ‘of course Ned Stark crushed our rebellion and killed my brothers, we never stood a chance against a man who lives here,’” before asking, “Do you know what it’s like to be told how lucky you are to be someone’s prisoner?”

Theon was one of the first to swear his sword to Robb Stark when he was named King in the North. But when he was sent as an envoy to bring the Iron Islands to Robb’s cause, he was caught between his two families, religions, cultures, and as it turned out, sides in the war. Theon chose his blood family, and it’s clear that decision haunts him every single day.

With the devil that is Dagmer Cleftjaw sitting on his shoulder, Theon does horrible things. He seizes Winterfell, kills Ser Rodrik, and burns two orphans boys, passing them off as Bran and Rickon after they escape. In his conversation with Luwin, the maester tells him, “You’re not the man you’re pretending to be,” to which Theon responds, “You may be right, but I’ve gone too far to pretend to be anything else.”

In the end, both of Theon’s families have turned their backs on him. As for what his future holds as a captive, we’ll just have to wait and see, but I’ll bet it rhymes with bleak.

The Rise and Fall of Tyrion Lannister

Both the second season of “Game of Thrones” and “A Clash of Kings” might be more aptly named “Tyrion Lannister: Bad-freakin-ass.” With his father off fighting the war, Tyrion is sent to King’s Landing to serve as acting Hand of the King, which he announces to Cersei when he walks oh so triumphantly into the chambers of the Small Council (whistling “The Rains of Castamere,” no less). As the only sensible Lannister in the capital, Tyrion’s got a lot on his plate: there’s his psychopathic idiot of a nephew, King Joffrey, first of his name; his overly-paranoid sister; and, of course, all the problems that come from having two such people in charge. Ironically, he gets blamed for many of these problems because he’s different; it’s just easier that way.

There is a line in “A Clash of Kings” that nicely sums up Tyrion in his role as the “good guy” on the “bad team.” Shae asks him what he will do now that he is Hand of the King and Tyrion responds, “Something Cersei will never expect… I’ll do justice.” But the most important thing Tyrion does to save the city is, well, save the city. Without Tyrion’s plan to use wildfire against Stannis’s troops during the Battle of the Blackwater, the city would have surely fallen.

Then there’s the actual battle. As he tells Shae early on, while most others can leave or switch sides, Tyrion wasn’t given a choice. He’s a Lannister. And when Joffrey leaves to “hide behind his mother’s skirts” during the fighting, it is put on Tyrion to take charge. The Imp gives a rousing battle speech before quite literally leading the charge, dwarfism be damned. His reward for all of this, of course, is a sword to the face from one Ser Mandon Moore of the Kingsguard, presumably on Cersei’s orders.

Now, Tyrion is left disfigured, and since his father arrived in King’s Landing, stripped of his title and power. However, Tyrion is still Tyrion; he refuses to run away with Shae because he intends to get his revenge somehow. “In the game of thrones you win or you die,” as Cersei is so keen on saying, and Tyrion ain’t dead yet, so the Queen bitch better look out.

Well, that’s it, another fantastic season of “Game of Thrones” in the books. Worry not, only 299 days until Season Three!

Winterfell

I for one am not a big fan of drawn out cliffhangers, as such the showrunners handled “the sea coming to Winterfell” very well. As was the case with Renly‘s death they gave us the aftermath right at the beginning of the episode, and what an aftermath it was. To quote Ser Rodrik, “Gods help you Theon [punkass] Greyjoy, now you are truly lost.”

There are no heroes or villains in Game of Thrones, no black and white, only shades of grey. You’ve got to give Alfie Allen credit for the way he’s playing Theon, you can see how unsure he is with every double take, quiver in his voice and tear in his eye. It really sets him apart from someone like Lord Tywin, who is so confident in everything he does.

The whole scene, especially Ser Rodrik’s death, was perfectly executed, pun intended. It really showed just how fiercely loyal the people of the North are to the Starks. The man who calls Theon a “steaming sack of shit” insists he serves the Starks, and right before Ser Rodrik is killed he tells Bran, “Hush now child, I’m off to see your father,” which is enough for him. After he says it he puts his head down and grits his teeth, completely ready to die. It takes Theon more than a couple swings to take Rodrik’s head, another impressive symbolic contrast between he and Ned Stark.

Beyond the Wall

Jon has lost his brothers of the Nights Watch and now has only the wildling woman Ygritte, who he could not bring himself to kill, to keep him company. There was a great parallel between Ygritte’s rubbing up against Jon and Osha seducing Theon. Each used their feminine wiles to get what they needed, Ygritte needed to stay alive (and perhaps convince Jon the free folk aren’t so bad) and Osha needed to escape Winterfell and protect the Stark children. In short, wildling chicks do what they gotta do.

Harrenhal

The interactions between Arya and Lord Tywin were not in the books, but after seeing the two characters’ (and actors’) chemistry, maybe they should have been. When Tywin jokingly tells Arya she should devise their next battle plan, she gets this little smirk on her face that fades into a look of pure terror the moment it’s announced Littlefinger has arrived. Just another brilliant moment for Maisie Williams, who continues to impress. I’m certain Littlefinger recognized Arya. Always a step ahead of everyone else, he’ll save that little tidbit until it’s most valuable. You know: buy low, sell high.

They’ve actually managed to humanize the cold, calculating Tywin, who’s seemingly the only Lannister save Tyrion who knows what the hell he’s doing. His discussion of teaching Jaime to read was fantastic. It goes to show that Tywin is just another man who loves his family; he’s doing what he can to protect them in the only way he knows how.

King’s Landing

While we’re on the subject of incompetent Lannisters, Cersei was her usual bitchy self. She threatened Tyrion for sending Myrcella away, saying, “I want you to know what it’s like to love someone, to truly love someone, before I take her away from you.” All this despite the fact that the princess will be far safer in Dorne than the capital. Sansa’s dilemma showed the dangers of being a noble woman while the common people are starving firsthand. If a bunch of unarmed small folk can wreak such havoc during a riot (they ripped the High Septon limb from limb), imagine what it’d be like with an enemy army knocking on the gates. But then Cersei’s not really one for rationality.

Speaking of the riot, it was another perfectly executed scene. The Hound rescuing Sansa was another great display of the shades of grey. This is the same man who murdered Mycah, the butcher’s boy, in cold blood. But he’s taken a liking to Sansa and was not about to sit idly by as she was raped.

Best of all, Joffrey’s actions in the aftermath of the riot gave Tyrion another opportunity to put that little shit in his place with a number of fantastic lines, and, of course, another slap. After all who doesn’t love to see ol’ King Fuckwad get his bell rung? First, Tyrion said, ”We’ve had vicious kings and we’ve had idiot kings, but I don’t know if we’ve ever been cursed with a vicious idiot one.” Then, when Joff insists his uncle can’t talk to him that way, Tyrion slaps him and follows it with, “And now I’ve struck a king, did my hand fall from my wrist?” Finally, when Joff declares he doesn’t care what happens to Sansa, the Imp says, ”If she dies you’ll never get your uncle Jaime back. You owe him quite a bit you know.” Of course, Jaime killed the Mad King, which led to Joffrey’s rule, not to mention that “uncle Jaime” is actually Joffrey’s father.

Qarth

I for one loved the way the Spice King tore into Daenerys. Her sense of entitlement has reminded me more and more of her brother Viserys than the supposedly great leader she believes herself to be. When she claims she’ll “retake the Iron Throne,” the Spice King interrupts her, saying, “Retake? Did you once sit on the Iron Throne?” Boom. Headshot. Let’s be honest here, what has Daenerys actually done other than (arguably) getting lucky with the whole mother of dragons thing? I swear every time she says, “I am Daenerys Stormborn and I will take what is mine with fire and blood,” I lose 50 percent more interest.

As for the whole dragon napping, that’s another huge deviation from the books. Like many of the changes, I thought it was both necessary and clever. Frankly, Dany’s plot line in A Clash of Kings is pretty boring, so I’ve got no problems with the showrunners trying to spice things up by throwing readers a curveball. Now, since the event didn’t happen in the books, I can’t be sure who stole the dragons or why. However, I suspect it’s to motivate her to go a certain special someplace, where the only interesting thing to happen to her in the entire book occurs. The rest of her plot line might be shit, but that scene is going to be awesome.