Game of Thrones recap: Season five, episode six

SPOILER ALERT. Don’t panic. Nobody important is dead. But a line was crossed in this episode, as Game of Thrones aired its most disturbing scene yet.

THIS story is dark and full of spoilers. You’ve been warned.

Magic dwarf genitals, an awkward dad moment and the most disturbing scene in the history of the show. All that and more in this week’s Game of Thrones recap. Read on ...

Last week’s recap

Someone accidentally replaced the first 10 minutes of this episode with part of a Law & Order: Special Victims Unit rerun.

A strange serial killer who refers to himself in the third person has captured a little girl and locked her inside his dimly lit mansion. He forces her to wash the bodies of his elderly victims, shampooing their hair and cutting their incredibly curly toenails. He wakes her in the dead of night to ask her deeply personal questions, whipping her if she lies. He emotionally abuses her until she willingly kills another girl to impress him. And eventually, when these things are no longer enough to weird her out, he takes the girl to his basement and shows her his extraordinarily large collection of dead people’s faces.

Sadly, the scene cuts back to Game of Thrones just before Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler burst in to dole out some tough justice.

“For a faceless man, you sure have a lot faces.”

In Essos, Tyrion has still not shut up, and Jorah has still not managed to remove the stony look from his face. Perhaps, as a future Stone Man, he is simply preparing himself for the inevitable.

Even so, the mood is tentatively bromantic until Tyrion unknowingly reveals that Jorah’s father, Lord Commander Mormont, was murdered by his own men. Thankfully, he neglects to mention the fact that one of said men used Mormont Sr’s skull as a glorified sippy cup.

On a tangential note, Jorah is looking particularly grizzled these days — and since House Mormont’s sigil is a bear, that officially makes him a grizzly bear. Just had to get that off my chest.

“My god, it makes perfect sense.”

Anyway, the pair get captured by a group of slavers, who openly discuss their plans to slit Tyrion’s throat and sell his much-desired dwarf penis on the black market for a tidy profit.

“A dwarf’s cock has magic powers,” the lead slaver says, and what woman who has slept with Tyrion would argue? Shae certainly wouldn’t. Shae can’t argue at all, because Shae is dead. So, the mythical power of dwarf penis shall remain unchallenged for the foreseeable future.

As someone who has consistently expressed a desire to remain alive, Tyrion naturally tries to convince the slavers to spare him:

Tyrion: “How will (the buyer) know (the penis in question is a dwarf’s) unless he sees the dwarf?”

Slaver: “It will be a dwarf-sized cock.”

Tyrion: “Guess again!” (Hello ladies ...)

Slaver: “ ......... The dwarf lives until we find a cock merchant.”

That last sentence is the greatest line ever uttered on television.

Tyrion tells the slavers Jorah’s skills in the fighting pits are more valuable than his not-at-all-dwarf-sized-penis, so they set a course for Slaver’s Bay.

“Now I know how Theon felt.”

Littlefinger has arrived in King’s Landing, where he’s greeted by a group of friendly religious fanatics. One of them is Lancel, the cousin-lover turned brothel-hater, which gives Littlefinger the perfect excuse to unveil his first Littlezinger of the day.

“We both peddle fantasies, Brother Lancel. Mine are just entertaining,” he says, landing a clean bullseye on the massive target adorning Lancel’s forehead.

“Lancel. You got much hotter. And much, much crazier.”

The facetious comebacks continue during Littlefinger’s meeting with Cersei, who tries to make fun of his relationship with Lysa Arryn.

“One’s choice of companion is a curious thing,” he says. Kapow! Right in the incest. This is a man on fire.

Like a Bond villain in full-blown exposition mode, Littlefinger proceeds to reveal the endgame of his Evil Plan. He tells Cersei to let Stannis and Roose fight over Winterfell, then send him to claim it from the survivor in the name of King Tommen. In return for his loyalty, and the death of Darth Sansa, he’ll be named Warden of the North.

The Starks really need to stop trusting this guy.

“You seem like a trustworthy fellow. Let’s make a deal.”

This episode serves as an unofficial reunion of the regicide club, as Olenna Tyrell also returns to the capital. She’s there to attend the inquiry into Loras’s “fornication, buggery and blasphemy”, all of which seem more like good lifestyle choices than crimes.

Everyone knows Loras is guilty; even naive old Ned Stark would have been able to work that out. But he denies the charges nonetheless, and Margaery lies under oath to protect him.

It’s all going well enough until that skinny blonde guy, Olyvaaaaaaaaaar, comes back to bite his former lover in a less pleasurable way than he’s become accustomed to. He provides some wonderfully graphic testimony about Loras’s intimately-placed birthmark, and the Tyrell siblings are both taken away to await a formal trial.

Tommen, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men and Protector of the Realm, watches silently with a dumbfounded expression on his face, like an elderly gentleman viewing a Matlock rerun. But Olenna is seriously pissed off. Cersei should watch her back.

“Ahh, Olyvaaaar. What a prick. I remember it well. Not a very nice guy either.”

In Dorne, Jaime and Bronn launch their ill-fated rescue/kidnap attempt and stumble upon Myrcella, just as a young prince whose name escapes me — let’s call him Randy, that seems like a good fit — is pashing her. It’s the ultimate awkward dad moment, and understandably, Myrcella is not amused.

By happy chance, the Sand Snakes choose that exact same moment to strike, and a banter-filled battle ensues. Bronn takes the opportunity to flirt obnoxiously with his female attackers, while Jaime just tries to avoid sticking himself with the pointy end of his own incompetence.

Amazingly, nobody dies, because Prince Doran’s pet axe shows up and stops the fight.

“We know you stole Loras’s haircut, kid. Fess up.”

Finally, to Winterfell, where Darth Sansa’s wedding day has already arrived. She really should have strung out the engagement — you know, until after Stannis’s invasion. Demand a gigantic diamond ring, Sansa! Insist on inviting the entire extended family. Anything to keep Ramsay’s famous libido at bay a little schlonger. In times of need, you must call upon your inner Bridezilla.

The wedding itself involves a return to Sansa’s roots, in several senses of the word. The fiery red roots of her hair make a reappearance, and the deep roots of Winterfell’s Godswood provide the setting. It’s all full of metaphor, and meaning, and dread. Lots and lots of dread.

Smile while you can Ramsay. Stannis is coming. You will BURN.

As Sansa (rather hesitantly) pledges herself to Ramsay, he flashes her the sort of creepy smirk he’d normally reserve for people who’ve just been skinned alive. Afterwards, they retire to a bedroom, and he rapes her — while forcing Theon to watch.

Yet another happy wedding night in Westeros, then. Someone tell Stannis to hurry up.

What did you think of episode six? Comment below, or talk to us on Twitter: @SamClench

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