Game of Thrones recap: Season five, episode two

SPOILER ALERT. Take a good look at this man’s face. It seems perfectly normal, right? Wrong. There’s a surprise hidden underneath.

THIS story is dark and full of spoilers. Read no further if you want to avoid juicy details from Game of Thrones’ second episode.

A nervewracking election, a rude old man who isn’t what he seems, and a decision that could topple a queen. All that and more in this week’s Game of Thrones recap.

Last week’s recap

Game of Thrones’ deepest secrets

Arya has finally arrived in Venice, where otherwise normal people speak cryptically for no apparent reason. Her ship’s captain is one such person.

“This is where you’ll find the man you seek,” he tells her, failing to specify who the man in question might be. That would make things too easy. The captain rows Arya towards a huge building called the House of Black and White, which presumably carries that name because its front door is a misshapen yin and yang.

“Ahoy! How Arrrrrya mateys? Welcome to episode two.”

Arya knocks, and is greeted by an extremely rude old man. She says hello. He looks at her like she’s a particularly foul pile of horse excrement. She tries saying “Valar Morghulis” (all men must die), and he appears to contemplate the idea that all little girls must die as well. Finally, Arya shows the man the coin given to her by Jaqen H’ghar, and he shuts the door in her face.

She sits outside for a whole day and night, reciting the names of all the people she wants to murder. That probably isn’t the healthiest pastime for someone her age. Eventually, she runs out of patience and throws her precious coin into the water, which seems like a waste of perfectly good cash.

“Urgh. Kids. Get off my lawn.”

Back across the Narrow Sea, a barmaid has won Podrick’s heart for all of eternity by offering to refill his cup of ale. However, as he’s staring lustfully at his new-found life partner, Podrick is distracted by the sight of Littlefinger and Sansa, who are sitting together in a booth on the other side of the room. See, girlfriends of the world? Perving does pay off.

He informs Brienne, who decides to handle the situation in her usual, subtle way. She approaches Littlefinger and his goons, foolishly reveals her motives, and then recites her true but entirely unbelievable story about Renly getting stabbed by a shadow with Stannis’s face. Not smart.

“Look at that barmaid. I wonder what she’d think of Pod’s Rod.”

“Is your name really Podrick? Because right now, you’re acting like a Pod-dick.”

“This woman swore to protect Renly. She failed. She swore to protect your mother. She failed. Why would I want somebody with your history of failure guarding Lady Sansa?” Littlefinger says.

Rebuffed, Brienne tries to appeal to Sansa directly, but gets no further. “I saw you at Joffrey’s wedding, bowing to the king,” the girl says, as though bowing to kings is a radical concept in pseudo-medieval society. “You should leave.”

So, Brienne and Podrick flee into the woods on horseback, with Littlefinger’s cronies in hot pursuit. It’s essentially that speederbike chase scene from Return of the Jedi, but slower. Brienne stabs a guy through the neck. Podrick falls off his horse. They really do make a great team.

“I’ve heard that finger isn’t your only little appendage.”

“Oh damn, I forgot to give the barmaid my number.”

In King’s Landing, Cersei is being uncharacteristically miserable and sarcastic. She’s received a “threat” from the Sand Snakes in Dorne, you see — we’ll hear more about them later — and is worried about the safety of her daughter, Myrcella.

“They blame us for the death of Oberyn and his sister and every other tragedy that’s befallen their cursed country,” Cersei says. Well, yeah. Obviously. Your family did kill those people, remember?

Jaime decides he’ll lend Cersei a hand (ahem) by running off to Dorne and smuggling Myrcella out of the country, Han Solo style. His sister, suddenly playing the role of renowned downer C3PO, doesn’t seem to have much faith in his abilities. To paraphrase: “Ser Jaime, the possibility of successfully navigating through Dorne is approximately 3,720 to one!”

Yes, I’ve used two Star Wars metaphors already. Topical, right?

“You stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking Nerf herder!”

The puzzled face of any readers who haven’t seen Star Wars.

Meanwhile, in Dorne, Myrcella herself is busy prancing around some gardens with her charming Dornish beau. The scene is straight out of a Disney princess film, especially since Oberyn’s former lover, Ellaria Sand, is watching over them like Maleficent stalking Sleeping Beauty.

“Your brother was murdered, and you sit here in the water gardens staring at the sky and doing nothing,” she spits at Doran Martell, the ruler of Dorne.

“Oberyn was slain during a trial by combat. By law that is no murder,” he replies.

Ellaria wants to chop off Myrcella’s fingers and send them back to Cersei one by one. If that plan sounds tame, it’s because you’ve watched far too many scenes involving Ramsay Bolton.

“We do not mutilate little girls for vengeance. Not here. Not while I rule,” Doran says. This fellow actually seems reasonable, and is therefore completely out of place in Game of Thrones. The writers must have created him by mistake.

“Talk about giving Cersei the finger. Am I right?”

“Ellaria, your sanity is receding almost as quickly as my hairline.”

In Meereen, Daenerys has managed to capture a Son of the Harpy with the help of her crack team, obviously led by Daario. She must decide whether to grant the prisoner a trial, or execute him without one.

She seems to be leaning towards execution until Barristan pulls her aside for a heart-to-heart talk about how her father, the Mad King, used to be a complete and utter nutcase.

“I’m not my father,” she says.

“No your grace, thank the gods,” Barristan responds. “But the Mad King gave his enemies the justice he thought they deserved, and each time it made him feel powerful, and right.”

Daenerys decides there’ll be a trial, and Barristan gives her a fatherly smile. He really does resemble a youngish Santa Claus.

“The Mad King was always on my naughty list, your grace.”

Speaking of female rulers ... with Jaime gone, Tywin dead and Tommen essentially still in diapers, Cersei is doing her best to fill the Small Council of Small People with her own yes men, such as lovely old Maester Frankenstein. She tries to make Tywin’s brother, Kevan Lannister, Master of War, but he slaps her down.

“I did not return to the capital to serve as your puppet, to watch you stack the Small Council with sycophants,” Kevan says. “You are the Queen Mother. Nothing more.”

Take that, Cersei. His name’s Kevan, he’s from the Westerlands and he’s not here to help. Nor is he a happy little Vegemite. Make the guy Prime Minister already.

“I’m not sure you have the interests of ‘working families’ at heart, Cersei.”

“Working? What’s that? Speak English you fool.”

At Castle Black, Stannis and Jon are discussing the upcoming election of a new Lord Commander for the Night’s Watch. Apparently Alliser Thorne, who has lived up to his name by being a Thorne in Jon’s side from the very beginning, is poised to win. Stannis gives Jon a way to escape The Wall.

“Kneel before me, lay your sword at my feet, pledge me your service and you’ll rise again as Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell,” he says.

“Thorne’s an even bigger bastard than you are, and that’s saying something.”

“I’ll admit, the contrast between him and Lord Commander Mormont was always rather ... stark.”

Jon won’t accept the offer, because he’s as stubbornly honourable as his father (who probably isn’t his father at all, but we’ll leave that for another day).

“I swore a vow to the Night’s Watch. If I don’t take my own word seriously, what sort of lord at Winterfell would I be?” he says. Answer: a better one than Roose Bolton. Case closed.

So, we proceed to the election, in which Thorne’s only announced opponent is a pair of bushy white eyebrows called Denys Mallister. Samwell can’t stand for that, and takes it upon himself to nominate Jon.

“He may be young, but he’s the commander we turned to when the night was darkest,” he says. Too right. If there’s one thing Lord of the Rings taught us, it was to trust the judgment of any tubby bloke called Sam.

The election ends in a tie, and Maester Aemon has the casting vote. In other words, the Night’s Watch is Florida in the 2000 presidential election, and Aemon is the Supreme Court. He chooses Jon W. Snow.

Is that ... is that John Howard?

Back in the streets of Venice, the rude old man finds Arya killing pigeons and picking petty fights. He leads her back to the House of Black and White, where he produces her lost coin and completely changes his face. Surprise surprise, it’s Jaqen. Although he says he isn’t Jaqen. That’s confusing.

Arya: “Who are you then?”

Dude: “No one. And that is who a girl must become.”

With that, no one opens the door and beckons for her to enter. Arya’s attempted pigeon genocide appears to have paid off big time.

“Bill Shorten ... the original faceless man ... it’s really you!”

Finally, back to Meereen, where Daenerys is dealing with yet another headache. One of her advisers, a former slave, has murdered the imprisoned Harpy and left his corpse in the street. So much for a fair trial.

You can certainly appreciate her predicament. Show the boy mercy for his crime, and she’ll be seen as weak. Punish him, and she risks alienating her most loyal supporters — the former slaves who call her “mother”.

“Psst. Daario. Still want to meet in my room later?”

“Chop my head off already, it will be less painful than your flirting.”

Daenerys has the young man dragged to a public platform, which is surrounded by a throng, and announces his punishment: death. Daario draws his weapon (for once, not a euphemism). The former slaves scream at Daenerys, begging her to show mercy. She hesitates. Then she gives the order.

They respond by hissing at her — where’s Harry Potter when you need someone to translate Parseltongue? Daenerys has to flee from the ensuing riot, shielded by the Unsullied soldiers. You’d think she’d just beheaded Tyrion Lannister at Comic-Con.

“....... Meatloaf. I’ll have meatloaf tonight.”

Hours later, Daenerys strolls onto her balcony to reflect on the day’s colossal screw-up. Everyone in Meereen hates her now. If only she had some way to restore order, to reassert her authority ... a dragon, for instance?

Lo and behold, Drogon has been sitting on the pyramid above her this whole time. We all know mothers aren’t supposed to have favourite children, but Drogon is definitely the golden boy here — her goofy grin at the sight of him makes that pretty clear.

Daenerys stretches a tender hand towards Drogon’s ugly, utterly terrifying face, but before she can touch him, he flies off into the night sky. Daenerys still can’t tame him. And she can’t control Meereen either. It’s all slipping away.

We’ll be back with another recap next week. In the meantime, tell us what you thought of episode two in the comments section below, or on Twitter: @SamClench

“WHEN MY DRAGONS ARE GROWN ... they will abandon me to a terrible fate.”