Game of Thrones finale recap: Season five, episode 10

SPOILER ALERT. Game of Thrones has finally reached peak shock value. The season finale left viewers flummoxed.

THIS story is dark and full of spoilers. I repeat, there are SPOILERS ahead. Big, fat, monumental SPOILERS. You have been warned.

Death, gore, nudity, despair and a huge dose of treachery. The Game of Thrones finale had it all ... unless you were after something cheerful. Read on ...

Last week’s recap

El Niño has suddenly struck the north of Westeros, and it’s put Melisandre in a chirpy mood. Stannis seems a bit down on himself though. Can’t imagine why.

“Now we just need someone to melt my icy, icy heart.”

Sadly, despite the warmish weather, Stannis’s men aren’t particularly keen to fight for the bloke who just burned his own daughter to a crisp. Half his army fled during the night, taking any realistic prospect of victory with them. Oh, and adding to the rather macabre mood, Stannis’s guilt-ridden wife has committed suicide.

As the One True King of a snowy patch of dirt stands gawking at his partner’s swaying corpse, Melisandre quietly bails. This is not a sign of confidence. But Stannis decides to march on Winterfell anyway because he’s a stubborn tool.

“Was it something I said?”

Outside Winterfell, Podrick and Brienne spot the approaching “army”, which is really more of a large scouting party at this stage.

Remember that monologue earlier in the season, when Brienne told Pod about her high school formal and swore she would kill Stannis? Brienne certainly does.

“So that’s why they made us sit in the same spot for six episodes.”

She gets her chance when Stannis’s band of less-than-merry men runs into the full force of the Bolton army. Stannis himself is left bleeding, broken and vulnerable, surrounded by the bodies of his slain soldiers.

Brienne confronts him, and he readily confesses to having murdered Renly using the power of hot, extramarital witch sex. She gives him the chance to sign off with the Stannisest last words imaginable (“Go on, do your duty,”) before swiftly removing his head. Finally, a win for the good guys.

“Well, at least I can die knowing I didn’t murder my daughter for no good reason.”

Meanwhile, in Winterfell, Sansa has been caught sneaking around with her weapon of choice (a candle), and Ramsay’s psychotic ex-girlfriend is preparing to lodge a bunch of arrows in her various non-essential body parts. But Theon, for whatever reason, decides this is where the line should be drawn.

Rape? Fine. Constant physical abuse? Fine. But arrows are a step too far. Theon logic is very similar to Baratheon logic, presumably because you can’t spell the latter without the former.

Anyway, Theon knocks Myranda to her splattery death — which really makes you wonder how Bran survived his much higher fall, doesn’t it? — then he leads Sansa to one of Winterfell’s outer walls. They climb the battlements, grasp each other’s hands and ... leap off.

We don’t see what happens after that, so I’m going to presume those eagles from The Lord of the Rings swooped in at the last possible moment.

“Race you to the ground.”

Across the Narrow Sea, in that seedy Braavosi brothel, Meryn has managed to assemble three young girls, whom he is whipping sadistically. Apparently he derives sexual pleasure from this. No wonder Joffrey liked the guy.

Eventually, one of Meryn’s victims reveals herself as Arya, wearing another girl’s face. She proceeds to stab him in both eyes and cut his throat, drastically improving his appearance.

“Didn’t anyone put this kid through the metal detector?”

It all goes wrong when Arya tries to return her borrowed face to the House of Black and White, much like a teenager furtively sneaking back to bed at 4am. She’s confronted by her fuming foster parent, Jaqen (her real parents are still dead), along with his strange blonde assistant.

“A girl has taken a life. The wrong life,” Jaqen says. “Now a debt is owed. Only death can pay for life.” Then he drinks a vial of poison. Prison isn’t an option? Community service, perhaps? Nope, poison, and for the bloke who didn’t even do anything wrong. It makes perfect sense.

Arya is understandably distressed by Jaqen’s apparent death, but when she turns around, the creepy girl is suddenly wearing his face. Is she Jaqen now? Is he even a real person? Did he ever exist? Is Arya just rocking back and forth in a gutter somewhere, cackling to herself, hallucinating this whole damn scene?

The answer, of course, is that Jaqen was “no one”. That’s what made him a true Faceless Man (right, Bill Shorten?), and it’s the crucial quality Arya still lacks. As punishment for her failure, she is blinded, and somewhere in Hell, an eyeless Meryn utters a single word: “Karma.”

“Ermagherd, erhm blehrnd.”

It’s a right old sausagefest over in Meereen, with Jorah, Daario, Tyrion and Grey Worm all arguing over the best response to Daenerys’s vanishing act. The highlight is Tyrion’s attempt to speak Valyrian: “Sorry, my Valyrian is a bit nostril.” I haven’t heard a foreign language butchered that horrendously since I confused the words “Schwanz” and “Schwarz” in German class. Look ‘em up.

Eventually, the Council of Sausages decides that Tyrion will stay in Meereen and rule alongside Grey Worm, while the Queen’s boyfriend and childhood stalker will ride off into the wilderness together to find her.

“I’ve stalked her since she was practically a child. Wait ... that came out wrong.”

When the testosterone levels subside a little, Varys appears at Tyrion’s shoulder, and they resume their banter as though it had never been interrupted. I guess we’ll pretend Varys didn’t just spend half the season inside a brothel.

Varys offers to join Meereen’s fresh, ballsy new government, which now consists of three men, one woman (Missandei), and no more than two actual balls.

“You’re not going to put me in another box, are you?”

Daenerys herself has been stranded somewhere distant and grassy, and Drogon is refusing to take her back to Meereen — he needs his beauty sleep.

So, she sets off on foot to look for food, and is promptly surrounded by an entire Dothraki Khalasar. I hope she’s ready to play Khaleesi again.

“Umm, erm, ahh ... YOU DON’T WANT TO WAKE THE DRAGON, DO YOU?”

In Dorne, the world’s dullest subplot is finally reinvigorated, in much the same way as every other storyline in Game of Thrones — through an act of senseless violence against an innocent young woman. This time, Ellaria poisons Myrcella to death with a pash on the lips.

This is significant, because the Lannisters will undoubtedly seek revenge. It might even lead to war with the Martells — and that might force Prince Doran to get off his ass (metaphorically, of course).

“I don’t know about you Myrcella, but I feel like I’ve been lulled into a false sense of security.”

Back in King’s Landing, Cersei is definitely ready to get off her ass, and to get her ass off the hard stone floor of a jail cell.

She confesses to (one of) her incestuous crimes, and in return, the High Sparrow generously says he’ll allow her to return to the Red Keep ... if she chops off her hair and walks there, naked, with the entire city watching and salivating. He calls this process “atonement”. Normal people would call it “shameless perving”.

“Some old men are just creepy. Personally, I prefer to be both pious and creepy.”

Cersei’s walk of shame is thoroughly unpleasant. The sole highlight is a comical appearance from one very unimpressive dick, who chooses to expose his very unimpressive dick. When it’s over, Cersei is greeted by her uncle Kevan (awkward), Qyburn, and the newest, freakiest member of the Kingsguard.

This hulking corpse in a knight’s costume is undoubtedly the reanimated corpse of Gregor “The Mountain” Clegane. Now we just need to recombine the pieces of Oberyn “Humpty Dumpty” Martell’s head and set up a rematch.

“Why do bad things always happen to nice people?”

Finally, to Castle Black, and the bombshell to end all bombshells. Having sent Samwell off to Oldtown with a few well-selected sex jokes, Jon is now surrounded by people who despise him. Only Ser Davos is still speaking to him cordially, and even then, it’s only to nag him for reinforcements.

That all seems rather pointless when Melisandre shows up, looking suitably dishevelled and depressed by the fact that she was utterly wrong about everything.

“Tell me you didn’t f*** everything up while I was gone.”

“Dude, not now, I have the meanest hangover.”

Later, as Jon mopes over some letters in his office, Olly bursts in with news of the Lord Commander’s long lost uncle, Benjen. Apparently, there’s a wildling outside who miraculously knows where Benjen is hiding, alive and well.

Needless to say, Olly’s story is about as plausible as the infamous fan theory that argues Benjen and Daario are the same person. Still, Jon bounds after the kid, following him to a suspiciously dark corner of the courtyard like a puppy chasing after a stick.

It’s OK Jon. Close your eyes and think of Ygritte. Or Tormund. Whichever redhead floats your boat these days.

Once in position, he’s surrounded by mutinous brothers of the Night’s Watch, including old pal Alliser Thorne. One by one, they step forward and stab Jon in the chest, each muttering the same three words: “For the Watch.”

The screen fades to black with Jon collapsed on the ground, and his blood seeping onto the snow.

“The stars sure are pretty tonight.”