‘Game Of Thrones’ Discussion: Six Questions About The Traitorous ‘Oathbreaker’

We’re in uncharted territory on Game of Thrones. There are no books to work from — even George R.R. Martin might be surprised with what’s happening on the HBO series — and things could get confusing. To help you out, after every new episode, our Thrones experts will answer your six most pressing questions.

1. Can Bran influence the past with his mind?

Ryan: It certainly seems like it! At the end of this week’s installment of the Tower of Joy story, Bran Stark called out his father’s name and young Ned Stark seemed to hear him, even if he didn’t see anything. And judging from the Three-Eyed Raven’s expression, this was not a positive development in Bran’s teaching. There are many more questions regarding this than answers right now. But it’s worth noting that this isn’t an original idea put forward by the show. In the books, Bran called out to his father during a vision as Ned sat under the Heart Tree in Winterfell, and Ned reacted as if he heard something. If Bran can actually learn to control this power, could his purpose be to change some element of the past to save the future? And if that’s his destiny, why did the Three-Eyed Raven look so worried about it?

Josh: So, what you’re saying is that Bran has the ability to change the past, and his then-actions have grave consequences on the present and future? And his tour guide is an old man who shouldn’t be spending so much time with someone so young? Sounds like the plot for Bran to the Future. I hope Catelyn doesn’t try to sleep with her sons. That’s more of a Lannister thing.

Anyway, in Back to the Future, Marty has to make sure his dad kisses his mom at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance; in Bran to the Future, Bran must do what exactly? There are countless ways his newfound vision-talking can affect everything as we know it — for instance, Bran tells his dad to not buy stolen plutonium from Libyan terrorists — but that seems like too easy of an out. The Three-Eyed Raven will teach his student to restrain himself, the way Jaqen H’ghar is training Arya, excuse me, A Girl to only use her powers for good. But if Bran could pass a message along to his dad, what would he say?

Ryan: There were definitely several moments during season one where Ned doomed the Starks through his honorable actions or inactions. Having Bran scream about what an idiot he is would certainly be more helpful than when we were cursing out the television. Perhaps true salvation only comes in leaving the past as it is and allowing all his family members to die so the realms of man can defeat the Others? Ugh. So many more questions, and we can only hope that some of them get answered by the end of the season.

2. Is Varys the smartest player on the show? And Tommen the worst?

Josh: Last episode, we finally learned after six seasons that, yes, Hodor is able to say more than just “Hodor” (or at least he could). This episode’s important revelation had nothing to do with Jon Stark’s lineage — it was the identity of Varys’ much-spoken-of “little birds.” The eunuch always knew what was happening in King’s Landing, and all over the world, because he used children, who can move around freely without being detected, to gather his whispers. It’s brilliant, actually. Adults talk freely when kids are around, figuring they have no idea what they’re blabbing out. That’s true, but Varys does. And for their hard work, the Spider gives the street rats candy, a tradition that’s been passed down to Qyburn. The difference between the two is that the kids describe Varys as “nice,” even though in the books, it’s hinted that the “little birds” had their tongues removed so they wouldn’t say something they shouldn’t; Qyburn might actually make the Mountain do that. If Varys is playing Game of Thrones on the “Expert” level, is Tommen at “Easy”?

Ryan: Oh yeah. Tommen came to the High Sparrow with the saddest of demands — that his mother be allowed to see her dead daughter — and didn’t have anything planned for when he was told no. He’s got such a lack of agency that 30 seconds later, the High Sparrow is starting to lecture him into heeding his counsel. I’d say it was an artful display of manipulation, but it says volumes more about Tommen than it does the High Sparrow. Tommen makes Sansa look like Littlefinger in comparison. Sky’s the limit for how badly he is gonna screw everything in King’s Landing up for the Lannisters.

3. Are you happy that A Girl can see again?

Ryan: Yes, if only because Arya’s milky white eyeballs were super creepy. It also means we may be about to learn what’s next for the fierce young Stark girl. Arya has been acolyting for the Faceless Men for nearly a season and a half now, and A Girl can only get beaten with sticks by the Waif for so long before it’s time to level up and move on to her next phase of development. Bring on the Assassin’s Creed portion of Arya’s training!

Josh: One thing the show isn’t bringing on is the implication that Arya is a warg. In A Dance with Dragons, Martin writes, “Maybe on the morrow, [Arya] would tell him about the cat that had followed her home last night from Pynto’s, the cat that was hiding in the rafters, looking down on them. Or maybe not. If he could have secrets, so could she.” That’s how Arya mastered Jaqen’s tests, and regained her eyesight. It was her last connection to being a Stark — with her warging ability removed, she truly is No One.

4. Were we right to cheer the death of a 12-year-old kid?

Josh: In another timeline, Olly is a sympathetic hero. He’s the hard-working villager who lost his parents in a brutal wildlings attack at a young age and moved in with the Night’s Watch. But in this darkest timeline, he had to go and kill Ygritte, and then doubled down on the murder by stabbing Jon Snow, who treated him like a brother, in the heart. His punishment, after Melisandre resurrects the Lord Commander? Death by hanging. Tough, but fair. Look, I’m not proud of this, but I silently cheered when I saw Olly in his noose. Yeah yeah yeah, I’d be pissed, too, if I had to defend and live with the same people who killed and threatened to eat my mom and dad, but I’ve come to terms with my Olly hate. I even embrace it. And it’s all because of that dumb nod.

Act like you’ve been there before, Olly.

Ryan: Olly is proof that it doesn’t matter whether you’re a “good guy” or a “bad guy,” it only matters how popular your character is. Jon Snow is immensely beloved, so plunging a dagger into his heart earned Olly the Biggest Jerk award during a season with many other strong contenders. (Yes, he’s somehow worse than Ramsay.) All for killing the man who let the Wildlings through the Wall. But no one bothers to see things from Olly’s perspective. No one cares that the decision to rise up against his friend Jon obviously tortured the poor boy. He made that tough choice and did what he thought he had to do to save the realm. Considering he literally watched the Wildlings eat his family, you can’t fault him for the conclusions he came to. But we do. Because we love Jon Snow. And f*ck that Olly kid.

5. Where has Rickon been, and what’s going to happen to him?

Josh: The last time we saw Rickon, the least dead-or-crippled of the Stark boys, it was in season three’s “The Rains of Castamere.” You probably remember that episode for a different reason. In three seasons, he’s grown 17 years. Ramsay doesn’t even believe it’s him, until Smalljon Umber presents him with Shaggydog’s head. No wonder Ghost has been so upset and growly lately — he doesn’t care about Jon Snow; he was sad about what happened to his fellow direwolf. Anyway, Rickon and Osha have been in Umber care (“care”) since departing Meera, Hodor, and Bran, who told his baby brother, “Head for the Last Hearth. The Umbers are our bannermen, they’ll protect you.”

And they did, until they didn’t.

This is a shocking development because Smalljon’s father, Greatjon (the Umbers are the best at first names), was one of Robb Stark’s most loyal followers, even after Greywind bit his fingers off in a heated argument about oath breaking. If anything, that made Greatjon admire Robb even more. Smalljon apparently doesn’t share the same fuzzy feelings for the Starks.

Ryan: You can add Smalljon Umber to the list of new lords trying to make a mark now that their parents have died. Last week we met Harald Karstark, whose only noteworthy trait was his blind allegiance to Ramsay. But now we’ve got Smalljon talking smack and declaring Ramsay’s father a “c*nt.” We haven’t seen this cocky swagger since Oberyn Martell. So it’s an extra shame that we have to hate him now for what he did to Shaggydog. But some fans are holding out hope that all this is some elaborate ruse (or perhaps we should call it a “Northern Conspiracy”) on the part of Smalljon, Osha, and Rickon to infiltrate Winterfell and murder Ramsay. The wolfhead? Obviously too small to be Shaggydog’s! There are #truthers going through their Blu-rays right now to compare the size and fur color of Rickon’s direwolf in season three to the decapitated wolf head we just saw.

People are trying really hard to imagine a scenario here where Rickon might make it out of Ramsay’s clutches in one piece. But as Ramsay has said in the past, if you think this has a happy ending, you haven’t been paying attention.

6. Was that a fart scene? No, really, did I hear a fart?

Ryan: Yes, that was indeed a fart we heard from Grand Maester Pycelle after he got caught talking sh*t about the undead corpse of Ser Gregor Clegane. HBO even included it in the captions for the episode! (That must be the best job in the world.) And as with most additions to George R.R. Martin’s world made by the show, it’s going to be somewhat controversial. I’m sure half the people watching got a good laugh out of the moment, while the other half is wondering if this is the Westerosi equivalent of the Fonz jumping a shark.

That wasn’t the only scene of the episode that attempted to give us some levity. There was also Tyrion’s failed attempt to hold a conversation with Grey Worm and Missandei, which may not have felt as painfully forced as it did if we hadn’t just missed out on the opportunity to learn what’s in the joyless tower of Bran’s visions. Out of all the stories and scenes that could have been told, someone felt this was a worthwhile use of an episode’s time?

It may be somewhat unfair to rage against the showrunners for trying to add a bit of fun into what is often a very grim and gory show. Besides, most of the time the humor works, like Tormund’s penis joke at Jon Snow’s tiny expense. Us book readers are still prone to worrying that the show is going to end up in the toilet without Martin’s source material to guide the way. Lashing out at the original elements of the show on the internet is how we cope.

Josh: I, for one, enjoyed Tyrion’s stall tactics. It’s not often that I can relate to Game of Thrones — it’s been years since I climbed down a dungeon to bond with two dragons before they eat me — but I did here. You’re telling me you’ve never been stuck in a meeting or seated at the bar next to the most boring people alive? I love Grey Worm and Missandei, but you can’t exactly shoot the breeze with them. They’re all patrolling this and my former-master was a horrible monster that. Also, if I could play a drinking game with anyone on the show, it would be Tyrion. (I have thought long and hard about this.) We could drink and know things… together. As for the fart joke: I’m fairly certain Game of Thrones is the first Outstanding Drama Series nominee since The Sopranos to feature a fart joke. (And even The Sopranos barely counts as a “joke.”) Mad Men? No farts. Homeland? No farts. 24? No farts. Breaking Bad? Hank sitting on a toilet, but no farts. We’re talking history here, folks.

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