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ilezmil · 13 days

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Kissmas Day 9

Prompt: Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Reader

CW: Female reader, lots and lots of swearing (It's Sandor c'mon now), reader is pregnant, some mentions of canon typical violence. If i forget anything please let me know!

A/N: Hello! This is a little different from the last few fics I wrote. I was going for like something cozy? So the pacing is a little slower and it's sort of a "not much happens but there's vibes" kind of fic. Hopefully you all enjoy it. I just really wanted to give my boy a story where he's safe, well fed, well rested, and doesn't have shit trying to kill him for like five minutes.

It was still dark when Sandor awoke, and colder than a wight’s arse. He could see the earliest light of dawn, though, through a nearby window. Pale yellow rays were starting to kiss the tops of the large, gloomy pines that encircled your cottage, and he knew it would be several hours yet before the sun would provide any proper warmth.

Grumbling and cursing under his breath, Sandor pushed back the furred hide that served as a blanket and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He hissed when his feet touched the floor, the chill so fierce it bit at his soles, even through the two layers of woolen socks he wore. Everyone, from great Kings to common fools, knew that Winters in the North were bitterly cold. But it was one thing to hear the tavern stories and another thing all together when you were trying to live through it.

He wondered, as he tugged on his boots, why he didn’t make for the Free Cities and Dorne like the few remaining knights did when the whole world finally fell apart in flame and ruin. Yes, the stories of the fine wines and glimmering cities where even beggars could be Kings might have been exaggerated, but it couldn’t be any worse than here. At the very least, it might be nice to live somewhere your piss didn’t freeze midstream and your cock didn’t stick to your hand each time you used the privy.

Sandor turned the idea over in his mind, finding that its appeal grew with each passing moment. However, any thoughts of leaving vanished the instant he glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of your face peeking out from under the edge of the blankets. Your expression was peaceful, almost serene.

He leaned over you, his hair falling around his cheeks like a curtain, and placed a quick kiss against your temple. You stirred slightly in response, your eyelashes fluttering as a soft moan escaped your lips.

“Whassamatter?”

Sandor chuckled and reached out to deliver a gentle pat to your side before answering.

“Nothing. Gonna go cut some firewood. I’ll be back before you’re up.”

You mumbled something in reply, too faint for him to make out, before sleep’s embrace claimed you once more. He chuckled again and fondly shook his head.

At one point, nobody wanted to spend a night in his bed, not even when he'd gone to a brothel. Those girls had been too frightened of his face to give him more than a few hours at most, leaving him to wake to a cold bed and empty purse the next morning.

You, on the other hand, were comforted enough by his presence to stay through the night. You even claimed you slept more soundly when he was with you. It had taken a while before Sandor believed you, but after over a year of waking with you warm and content beside him, he was starting to see that you’d been telling the truth.

The bedroom door squeaked as it opened, which made the large, shaggy dog the two of you kept leap to its feet and growl deep in its throat. Sandor shushed the animal, which immediately bounded over from its spot by the fireplace, tongue out and tail wagging at the sight of its master.

“Stupid mutt.” Sandor said, as he began to rumple and massage the dog’s ears. “Good thing you’re loyal, or else what use would you be?”

The dog, which you’d so cleverly called Nameless because Sandor had refused to give it one, eagerly leaned into his touch and gazed up at him in squinty eyed delight. You’d found the poor beast roughly around the same time Sandor had been able to walk again, where he’d been left to die in some abandoned crofter’s hut.

At first, Sandor had wanted nothing to do with the animal. As far as he was concerned, you didn’t need another mouth to feed, what with him still half crippled and you were only able to set the most basic of rabbit snares. There had barely been enough food for the two of you, let alone a walking gut disguised as a dog.

He’s a big, black dog you’d insisted on just like your crest. If that’s not a sign from the gods, I don’t know what is.

Bugger the gods had been Sandor’s reply, but in the end, he’d yielded, if only to have some peace from your griping. Since then, Nameless had followed Sandor around like a second shadow. He’d cursed the beast and the bitch that whelped him each time he got underfoot, but eventually this gave way to begrudging acceptance and finally a quiet sort of affection.

Whoever left Nameless behind had, whether they knew it or not, forfeited a skilled hunting dog. Despite his sweet nature with people, he could catch rabbits and squirrels as skillfully as any wolf, which kept you and Sandor well stocked with meat despite the North’s unforgiving climate.

Once again, Sandor found himself questioning why he’d chosen to live in the frozen arse end of the world as he tried to open the front door. A thick layer of ice had settled over the tiny cottage you called home, a parting gift from last night’s storm.

Despite ample shoving and force, the door was refusing to cooperate. With each attempt, the aged wood groaned and creaked as though in protest, but wouldn’t budge. Though he couldn’t see it, Sandor had a feeling the damn thing had frozen shut in its frame, which was a much more common occurrence than he would’ve liked it to be. With a muttered oath, he threw his shoulder against the wood, swearing louder at the shock of pain that came after.

A thin sweat had broken out on Sandor’s brow when he finally gave himself a moment to breathe, half slumped against the bastard door and wishing agonies upon whichever fool god made ice to begin with. He stole a glance over his shoulder, hoping the racket hadn’t woken you, and was greeted with the sight of Nameless. The dog was sitting a few feet behind him and watching the entire process as though it was a Mummer’s show Sandor was putting on especially for him.

“Are you just going to look? Or are you going to be helpful for once in your sorry life?”

By way of response, Nameless rose to his feet, stood for a moment, squinted at Sandor, and then let out a quick, loud sneeze that sent forth a spray of drool and dust motes into the chilled air. Satisfied, the dog sat down again with a bump, and stared at his master. He cocked his head to one side, and spread his mouth wide in a lolling, doggy grin, as if two of them were sharing some sort of secret joke.

Sandor couldn’t help but grin back, albeit a little lopsidedly, before returning to the problem of the door. Once upon a time, he could’ve split the bloody thing in two with the heel of his boot and a well-aimed kick, but he had been a different man then. The Hound, with all his strength and rage, had died with Gregor the day they both went over the falls. Now, all that remained was Sandor, who had to huff and puff and struggle with frozen doors just like anyone else.

When the door finally gave way, it did so with a mighty crack, which shattered the morning air in a flurry of loose snow that tumbled off the roof and bits of ice that shimmered like diamond shards as they fell.

Sandor stumbled outside, shoulder first since he was mid shove when the door decided to open. Instantly, he was blinded by the sheer, sterile whiteness of fresh snow and sunbeams that cut like yellow knives after the dimness of the cottage. For a moment, he had little choice but to wait and lean against the door frame while his vision cleared.

Despite the early hour, the woods were already awake and teeming with life. Around him, Sandor could hear all manner of birdsong, as well as the chattering of squirrels and the far off call of a solitary deer.

From behind the cottage came the sounds of the sheep, small, squat, shaggy creatures with more wool than brains between their ears. They bleated mournfully from inside their little shed, hoping it would get them fed all the sooner, but their cries stirred no pity in Sandor’s heart. He could hardly stand the sight of the fool things, with their empty eyes and the way they ran in panicked, useless circles every time they were frightened.

When you’d first asked Sandor why he hated the sheep so much, he told you it was because he had no patience for anything, man or beast, that was too stupid to know how stupid it actually was. You’d laughed at that, a bright, musical sound that made warmth bloom in Sandor’s chest, but you hadn’t left the matter alone like he’d hoped.

As far as you were concerned, there was no point in wasting time hating something so pathetic and harmless and so you persisted. If Sandor was stubborn, you were twice as much, pestering him with that unfaltering cheerfulness each time you went you to feed the damn things. Eventually, he relented, the name and reason tumbling from his lips like rain after a drought.

Mycha.

From the ashes of Sandor’s rage, shame had blossomed, and with it a thin, choking vine that clenched a little tighter around his heart each time he’d thought of the boy. He’d lived what felt like a thousand different lifetimes since that fateful day by the river, and no matter how much he’d drunk, fought or fucked, he couldn’t seem to shake that one particular ghost. It was as though a small part of Mycha had always been there, slowly poisoning what little shreds of goodness Sandor had managed to grasp hold of, and for a while, he supposed that was what he deserved. Until you came along.

You, who had dragged Sandor out from the water when he was little more than a half drowned corpse. You, who had set every broken bone, stitched every wound and fed him spoonfuls of broth even when he’d cursed you after each one. With your constant, stubborn, infuriating cheerfulness, you had talked Sandor into talking, smiled him into smiling, and somehow loved him into loving you back. You had become the sun that rose and set on each day of Sandor’s life. You were what got him up in the mornings and kept him working until dusk. The thought of losing you, or worse, having you cast him aside, scared him more than dragons, others, and his cunt brother ever had.

That was why, in the end, Sandor had chosen to tell you the truth. At least then you’d hear it from him, instead of whatever exaggerated horseshit the village gossips would invent. Ugly as it was, Sandor knew honesty would be his friend in this matter, and he’d had more than his fill of liars after spending so much time in service to the Lannisters.

And so you came to know the whole sordid tale, one dreary morning in the sheep shed. He spared no detail, no matter how gruesome it was or how poorly it reflected on his character. If you were going to keep loving him, it was best you knew the sort of man you’d chosen, lest the truth curdle what little affection he’d earned.

At first, Sandor wasn’t sure how you were going to take things. He half expected you to try to brain him with the bucket of sheep’s feed, then drive him off in a hail of shrieking and chunks of dung. Tears were also a likely possibility, though you didn’t really seem the type. But learning that the man who you’d let into your home and bed had the blood of an innocent child on his hands could make anyone behave strangely.

When he’d finally got up the courage to stop staring at his boots and look into your face, you, as always, surprised him. You were smiling at him, that same warm, gentle smile that Sandor remembered from the moment he’d woken up in your arms.

I know is what you’d said. I’ve always known, and I love you anyway.

You’d reached for him after, setting aside your bucket so you could bring your hand up and caress his scarred cheek. Sandor had leaned into your touch, like it was the only thing keeping him from breaking apart into a million pieces. Of course you’d known, who in all the Seven Kingdoms hadn’t heard the stories about King Joffery’s rabid dog and the things he’d done? He should’ve given you more credit.

From there, it had been easy enough to tell you why he hated those sheep. Their cries, the sheer terror in their eyes each time he approached? They reminded him too much of that boy, and regardless of how you felt about it, he was not entirely certain he’d ever be able to forget. It was one thing to have your forgiveness and another thing entirely to be able to forgive himself.

Give it time is what you’d told him And let me worry about the sheep. You’ve got enough to do around here, anyway.

The sound of Nameless’ barking is what suddenly tugged Sandor from his memories and back into the here and now. Somehow, the dog had managed to squeeze past him without Sandor noticing, and he was now diving face first through the fresh snow, on the hunt for grouse tracks and anything else that would provide a decent chase.

Sandor watched for a moment, unable to hide the smile playing about his lips. The sight of the big dog, now sporting a healthy dusting of snow across his shoulders and muzzle, was enough to brighten anyone’s mood. He supposed, after almost starving to death on his own, the idiot creature was simply happy to be alive long enough to see another day.

The two of them would go and check Sandor’s traps later. With any luck, they’d snag a rabbit or two that you could roast for supper and have plenty of bones left for Nameless to enjoy. But, in the meantime, you wouldn’t be cooking anything if there wasn’t any wood for the fire.

It hadn’t warmed up any by the time Sandor walked to the woodshed. The snows frozen crust crunched under his feet as he walked, while his breath floated away in thick, white clouds that dampened his beard. His axe, stuck blade down in the stump a few feet away from the woodshed, was a welcome sight.

It was by no means half the weapon his greatsword had been, but Sandor found comfort in the way its worn, wooden handle fit snugly into his grasp and in its blade that thirsted for pine sap instead of blood.

Before long, the sound of logs splitting filled the air, mingling with the soft creak of trees in the wind and an occasional bark from Nameless. Sandor quickly found his rhythm, letting the weight of the axe guide his arm on the downstroke and pushing aside each long with his other hand to be stacked in the shed later.

He went on like that for a while, cut, push, another log, and do it again. The repetition of the work was soothing, almost meditative. It brought a sense of peace to Sandor the way only busy hands could.

Cut, push, new log, do it again.

It was like the axe was an extension of his arm, with the beat of his heart matching each thud of the blade and his breath moving in time as the axe swung through the air. There was most likely going to be a fresh tree fall after last night’s winds, no doubt with plenty of new wood for Sandor to haul home. It probably wouldn’t hurt to bring a length of rope and the sledge when he went hunting with Nameless later. If they didn’t catch anything, at least they wouldn’t be coming home empty-handed.

The young pine he was currently working on was halfway gone by the time you’d made an appearance. Sandor hadn’t heard you at first, too absorbed in what he was doing. It was only after you’d said his name for the third time that he’d finally stopped and turned to look at you over his shoulder, squinting at you as though he wasn’t quite sure who you were or where he was.

“What are you doing out here?”

His tone, like everything about him, was gruff. You smiled at him all the same, knowing that for Sandor, gruffness and worry were often interchangeable.

“Came to check on you. You’ve been out here for hours.”

Sandor glanced upwards and was surprised to find the sun sitting squarely above his head. A sheen of sweat had also broken out over his arms and forehead, and he could feel where it was pooling in the hollows of his back. With a sigh, he set aside his axe and removed his heavy woolen cloak, before turning back towards you.

“Have you been asleep this whole time?”

The slight tilt of his chin in your direction indicated your odd choice of garments. Born to a wilding father and shepherd’s daughter, you always swore the North in your blood kept you from ever truly feeling cold. Still, a sleeping shift, boots, and knit shawl tossed hastily about your shoulders was a questionable choice in midwinter, even for a Northern girl.

You shook your head and gestured back towards the cottage where steam had fogged up the windows.

“I started the laundry, wanted to make use of the sunlight while we still have it. I figured it didn’t make much sense to change until my other clothes were dry, and then I could wash these next.”

Sandor listened to your explanation, his face unchanging save for an arched brow. When you finished, he raised his arm and pointed back at the cottage with a thick finger.

“You should be inside, you fool, woman. You’ll freeze your tits off out here.”

You laughed before wrapping your shawl a little tighter around your shoulders and closing the space between you and Sandor with a few steps.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. I’m a Northerner. I don’t get cold. We’re not as pampered as you Southern city types.”

Sandor grumbled softly and shook his head, something about “tongue lashing harpy bitch.” There was no venom behind his words, however, only affectionate resignation. Instinctively, he brought his hand to rest on the curve of your stomach, a protective gesture towards the child you’d been carrying for the last five months. You reached up for Sandor’s face, cupping the scarred side as you usually did against the palm of your hand.

Sandor’s eyes fluttered shut in response to the touch, and for a moment, years seemed to fall away from his expression. He turned his head slightly to the side and pressed a kiss against the skin of your wrist. You loved seeing him like this, vulnerable and content. It was like a glimpse into the past, when he was young and full of hope. However, his eyes opened all too quickly, and he was back to being the Sandor you knew. Older, grumpy, and entirely done with your nonsense.

“Inside. Or I’ll sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and bring you there myself”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he’d do no such thing, not while you were pregnant, anyway.

“Fine. But I want a kiss first.”

There was more grumbling, but Sandor did as you asked, catching your mouth against his while his hands snaked down to encircle your hips. You leaned into the kiss, pressing your body as close to his as you could get while still keeping your feet on the ground. His beard was coarse against your cheeks, and he smelled faintly of the woods and sweat. The heat of him seemed to envelope you, like a familiar blanket.

You stood like that for a while, the two of you bathed in morning sunshine and kissing as though you’d never get a chance to do it again. When Sandor tried to pull away, you chased him, closing the space between your mouths by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him downwards. This kiss was a little messier and rougher than the first, most likely due to Sandor’s surprise, but you didn’t mind. It was only when you nibbled at his bottom lip that he broke the kiss off in earnest, catching your two hands in one of his and trapping them against his chest.

“None of that. I told you, go inside.”

You stared up at Sandor and pulled your mouth into an exaggerated pout.

“One more? Please? And then I’ll go, I promise.”

Sandor swore softly under his breath and used his free hand to adjust the front of his trousers before leaning down to claim your mouth again. For a moment, it seemed as though you were going to get your way. Sandor had brought his other hand up to twine in your hair, which only served to deepen the kiss. You welcomed it eagerly, opening your lips and running your tongue against the seam of his mouth. He let out a groan in response, the hand that still held yours squeezing tight. You squirmed against him eagerly, trying to wrap one of your legs around his and haul yourself upwards, your hips seeking the friction they so desperately craved.

This, however, didn’t have the desired effect. Sandor began to laugh, and then placed his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back so you could no longer reclaim his mouth.

“I’m not a tree, you little minx, so stop trying to climb me. You said one more, you’ve had one more, and now you’re going to go inside or else.”

One look at Sandor’s face, and you knew there was no use in pushing your luck. With a long, suffering sigh, you stepped away, already mourning the absence of his mouth and hands on your body.

“Fine. But I better see you again before it gets dark. I’ll need to wash those clothes you’re wearing, and I’m not warming up your dinner twice.”

Sandor grunted, the noise vaguely affirmative enough that you took it as agreement. You turned to head back towards the cottage, only to stop mid step when you felt the familiar sting of an open hand strike your ass. You spun back around, your shawl spinning about your shoulders, and stared at Sandor, who grinned wolfishly back.

“That’s not fair!” you sputtered, your already pink cheeks flushing deeper.

“Nothing ever is,” came the reply.

You shook your head, turning once again to leave. Sandor let you do so without further torment, watching the way the sunlight made your hair glisten and the subtle swing of your hips as you walked. Nothing was ever fair, but sometimes things got close, even for an old dog like himself.

#awww #sandor clegane #game of thrones #simpn

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ilezmil · 15 days

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The decline of Game of thrones SPOILERS INNIT

So the show has finally came to an end, it took the world by storm with its twists and turns, the violence, intrigue, characters, worlds and winning the award of most genitalia shown on a TV screen. But the last season was unfortunately blasted with lots of heat, negative opinions rained fire on the show’s creators just as Dany did to all those innocent Kings Landings citizens. So where did the beginning of the end start for game of thrones? Let us take a look at thrones in its entirety and talk about what happened to the show we all once loved.

I absolutely loved the first six seasons, they were incredible, season one introduced us to a world of deep political intrigue, not your usual fantasy, this one was incredibly dark and realistic, realistic even when it had zombies and dragons, like a world that really could exist, because the show managed to capture so elegantly the motives of each character and why they acted as they did. Seasons two, three and four brought the same brilliant realism, intrigue and storytelling but upped the ante with some incredible spectacle, I remember watching the battle of kings landing for the first time, seeing the shot of wildfire explode and thinking this show was just something else, season three brought serious shock in terms of the red wedding and season four showed off the shows continuous ability for intense battle sequences mixed with great character development during the battle for the wall. The first four seasons for me are basically near perfect, I’m sure there are flaws here and there but none I can remember too well, they facilitate game of thrones as one of the greatest shows on television.

Season five is where things began to change a little for me, not greatly though, season five was still fantastic, the plot with the sons of harpy, the tensions on the wall, in Mereen and so forth but I felt the pacing did struggle at some points especially in Mereen and Kings Landing, luckily by the end of the season I felt things really begin to kick off as Dany had to fall to the whims of the slavers and re open the fighting pits, Cersei got in hot bother with the sons of the harpy and was arrested for her sins and who could forget Hardhome, it was amazing. However even though season five was still a high quality part of the thrones story it does to some degree begin to mark the beginning of the end as this was when things really began to deviate from the books, I hadn’t read the books the first time I saw season five so I wasn’t sure what I was missing out on, but my god, I’m up to date on the Song of Ice and Fire novels now and there is some difference, mainly where a certain place named Dorne is concerned, this is where most people’s complains about season five stem from, the whole Dorne arc seemed to be a little rushed and quite flimsy at points, but this was game of thrones, it had delivered so much, so why would we have been worried? Well I certainly wasn’t but looking back now this was where you can really put the show creators into question, they properly deviated from the books this time and it was up to them and their own creativity and it was the first time the show seemed to fall short a little, not that I hated the Dorne arc or anything but at the same time the frustration people feel comes from how good it was in the books I believe.

Season six, I really enjoyed season six, it was the point where the show seemed to really be moving on to its grand conclusion, Bran was having visions about Ned Stark and Lyanna and if you had seen any internet theory video on the fabled R + L = J then you knew what was coming, the hype was real, Jamie was facing off the Blackfish in a part now taken from the books, rather than his Dorne arc which the show writers created the season before and the change in quality here with a sequence from the book was more evident, the battle of the bastards gave us one of the most gut wrenching and intense battles not just on TV but really in any medium, straight out of a movie really, who could also forget Cersei’s glorious revenge against everyone who ever screwed her over when she blew up the Sept of Baelor and finally the season ended with Dany making her way to the seven kingdoms, season six for me was absolute quality and I think we were all pretty hyped for what was to come in season seven.

But then, all of a sudden, something was different. Season seven was when things began to truly go downhill; the show had veered off from the books fully now and it was up to the show’s creators to keep the quality up, season seven for me was poor for a number of reasons, the biggest flaw for me was how they had completely thrown away game of thrones’ realism, not in terms of fantasy, the white walkers and dragons are fine, but how it became a show where things happened for plot convenience and really badly at that, people were using teleportation all over the map by this point like the show was an MMO or something, beyond the wall was the perfect example of this, we see Jon, Tormund, the hound and the rest of the gang travelling north to capture a Wight, its cool to finally see so many beloved characters in one place but at the same time the whole thing feels messy, it looks like a hard and long trek and they send Gendry back to the wall when they’re in trouble because he’s ‘the fastest’, Gendry makes it back to the wall in record time and sends a raven off to Dany, the raven reaches her and she’s off to the north to fight the white walkers, meanwhile Jon and the gang are surrounded by hundreds of the dead, things felt so sped up by this point, there was no pacing, everything was going on at once. Another issue with season seven was to do with the death of intrigue and compelling writing, Kings Landing, where pretty much every scene from the show was riddled with genius dialogue and political stakes was now completely forgettable, not once in season seven or eight did you actually see a crowd of nobles watching the queen decide the fate of the realm, it was simply Cersei and her closest allies treating with Euron and not much else, I was really disappointed with how little interest seemed to be going on in Kings Landing, as for Winterfell, my god, I was furious with the treatment of one certain character, Arya, she was easily one of my favourite characters in the show until this point. The entire debacle for me was over how her relationship was handled with Sansa, they seemed to force some kind of split between the sisters for the sake of it and it just felt completely uncalled for, I get that sisters are like to argue but Arya was pointing out such strange things about Sansa, she was genuinely trying to do what was best for the people of Winterfell but Arya began accusing her of all sorts, of being power hungry, narcissistic and self-serving, I really just didn’t buy it, if they gave it more time and some more development of such an idea like Sansa really trying to uproot what Jon was doing as King in the north then I would have understood, but it really just seemed like the show creators were forcing a divide between the sisters so they could have an excuse to build tension, then have them reunite to kill Littlefinger, which to me was also a bit of disappointment, I think a lot of us didn’t expect Littlefinger to go out so easily, he seemed like he could have a plan for almost anything, if it did come to the point where he was put on trial for being more or less a giant snake wouldn’t he have something up his sleeve? like how maybe the Lords of the vale are under his rule, bound by law to serve their lord, when Robb Stark executed Lord Karstark the north lost all Karstark men, when Sansa executes Littlefinger the Vale just shrugs it off, meh, is basically their reaction, this is the vale which loyally served a lunatic of a women, everyone could see how much Lysa Arryn had lost her mind, but the laws are laws, people must follow their Lords and ladies, such is the nature of Westeros and its culture, or so we’d think, the men of the Vale allow their Lord Littlefinger to perish, Littlefinger being a supposed genius, wouldn’t he think something like, I don’t know, ‘I should probably make sure all the vale is loyal to me so they love me and protect me’ the man is always tactical and conniving, finally he is the Lord of an entire people and he doesn’t really use this to his advantage at all. The dynamic between Dany and Jon Snow was fairly interesting; Jon refuses to have the North bend the knee to the iron throne once more regardless of who is sitting on it, but he also needs Dany for the obsidian down in the Dragonstone mines, it’s a pretty interesting plot, yet still I found the dialogue wasn’t as conveying as the previous seasons where the words which came out of characters mouths were like music to my ears. It was in season seven I began to worry that the lack of episode count in the season really pushed the writers to hurry up and get this thing moving, therefore sacrificing a lot of the shows quality.

Let’s move on to the final season, game of thrones had a much needed years break it seemed to me, I was glad about this, I mean look how long it’s taking Georgie to write the next book Winds of Winter so by all means go ahead HBO and give the show some time to work on what it needs to, so the first episode aired and well, I was excited you know, they had a year off so things seemed to look up, but erm, well I wasn’t exactly super impressed by the opening scenes, one in particular, we’ve got Tyrion and Varys in a carriage, famed for their trading of incredible wit and knowledge, clearly the years have not been kind to Tyrion as all he can muster up in this scene is, “I have balls and you don’t” I know it’s not much but for me it really just set the tone of how dialogue would be handled this season. The next episode picked things up a little for me, there was more character development, Samwell is traumatized by the news of his father and tells Jon of his true heritage and Sansa is also none too happy about Dany and the power she now has over the North, it seemed like things were moving in the direction of some in-fighting, Sansa would maybe raise the north up against Dany, Jon would be highly conflicted on the matter and friends would have to turn on friends, classic game of thrones, I was thinking maybe they would end up destroying each other, and as the white walkers come they are decimated, too busy fighting politics the white walkers end up causing serious damage the living, thus the lesson is humanity could not hope to survive divided. Anyhow the white walkers invade in episode three, now this episode for the most part I found really enjoyable, the action was crazy, it was intense and the visuals were something else, scenes like the Dothraki swords being lit on fire got me all chuffed about how far the show had come and Arya being trapped in the library with a bunch of Wights was gut wrenching, however then comes the end of the episode, in a twist pretty much nobody was expecting, Arya kills the Night King, well damn, there it was, the apocalypse was over, it was very strange to say the least, no one expected it to happen, I was one of the people who was a little optimistic about the season still, I got it, so the Night King is beat and the final battle is for the iron throne, ok I guess it is all about the Iron throne at heart but still it did leave a strange taste in my mouth as the shows greatest enemy was defeated before the final episodes, it felt like whatever could happen now was just a little underwhelming compared to the fight against the dead, all this we heard about no wars mattering but the great war as Jon would say, but now it was over. In the next episode Dany declares optimistically that ‘the we have won the great war, now we will win the last war’ ok cool I get it, I’m thinking let’s see what the show has to offer from here, the party scene shows that everyone loves Jon Snow and that Dany is becoming very insecure about her ability to rule as everyone loves Jon and that he is also the rightful heir to the throne, this all seemed well and good to me, things were getting interesting, sure the dialogue still was off par compared to earlier seasons but I was still behind the program here, despite my fears, by this point a lot of people seemed to have lost faith in game of thrones, I understand this, the decline here was evident but I was kind of hopeful that despite the bad writing and entire rushed feel of the final season the ending would be satisfactory, therefore not taking away from the shows overall glory. As episode four continued some more questionable things began to happen, Rhaegon is straight up shot out of the sky with four straight bolts placed perfectly, it all happened in an instant, so fast I couldn’t really process it, Dany then goes into a rage and heads straight to Euron’s ships to toast them all, as at least a dozen more bolts are shot this time and Drogon is arguably in better range they all seem to miss? The plot armor is pretty strong here, never the less Dany retreats and Euron’s fleet destroys Dany’s. Oh and I almost forgot to mention, let’s take a pause from the episode and have a look at one certain character, Euron Greyjoy, if you haven’t read the books then I’ll explain things for you, Euron from the books is a straight up psychopath, his presence is felt in every page he’s in, the way he is portrayed in the books is brilliant, he’s extremely selfish, power hungry, savage yet also comes across intelligent in a horrifically manipulative way, he’s also very mysterious, the man came back from travelling all over the world, he’s seen things no one else in Westeros has but in the show, he’s pretty dull to be honest, he’s mad but in just a silly lunatic fashion more than anything else, I just don’t think anyone is that bothered about Euron in the show, he’s not a great character, I’m ok with things being different from the books, its fine, but Euron isn’t different to the book in an interesting way, he’s just a really bad version of the real Euron, this is illustrating my point further that the writers don’t seem to be handling things well if it’s not taken from the book, which is sad because in earlier seasons there’s scenes that aren’t in the books that are exclusively part of the show that are brilliant pieces of dialogue, every exchange between Littlefinger and Varys in the show is purely the show writers creation, ‘the chaos is a ladder’ scene isn’t in the books, and it is one of the shows definite high lights. Back to the main story, Dany makes it to Kings Landing and Cersei declares she will not be making peace any time soon, thus beheading a captured Missandei, ok so we all know what is coming, one final battle for Kings Landing. Episode five, some scenes in this episode are actually great, Tyrion setting Jaimie free and them having a brotherly bond hit me hard, visually everything was excellent and you truly felt right in the middle of the onslaught. Drogon absolutely rips through Euron’s fleet like butter, which was weird to me because the season set up how dangerous the scorpions (the giant dragon killing crossbow machines) were to dragons but apparently not, there’s plenty on the city walls and on Euron’s ships but Drogon evades all and destroys every one of them, finally he flies back to the front of the city and destroys the golden company who are meant to be pretty formidable but they completely disappoint, they just act as more cannon fodder really, also I was well salty that no elephants appeared, why even set that up just to tear down our expectations? Then the moment that shocked us all, the men of Kings Landing surrender despite Cersei’s commands, yet Dany decidedly burns the whole city anyway and murders plenty of innocents as part of her rage. So this is where pretty much 90% of the shows audience turns on the show, that’s not an exact statistic but it seems like a whole lot of people got furious here, I want to go in deep on Dany’s turn to full madness, some of it can be explained, she was insecure that the thing she has worked for so hard is now out of reach because she is not in fact the true heir despite believing that for most of her life, she’s lost two of her dragons and one of her closest advisers betrayed her via her lover revealing he is in fact the true heir, it’s tough we can definitely say that, but does it merit what the creators did with Dany, overall no I don’t think so, certain signs were indeed there, she nailed nobles of Mereen to crosses independent of their part in the slave trade and burned one of them to root out the sons of the harpies, from her slow decline you could see how Dany becomes less of savior to more of a lawful bad in serve of the greater good, she wants the best but she’ll be absolute in judgement to achieve it, however the slaughter we see in Kings Landing is chaotic evil, not lawful, it’s just utter madness, killing soldiers in an army is lawful and cannot be avoided, their all farmers and villagers when you think about it, enlisted into the ranks but in war killing them is virtually unavoidable, however I don’t think Dany could see murdering innocent children as unavoidable, the greater good always seemed in her best interest, serving the oppressed in society, here she murders everyone she claimed to once motivate her, her turn to madness is just, well, mad. Her character is completely butchered and not just her, Cersei’s ending I found to be pretty underwhelming, I felt the shows undoubtedly greatest villain should have gone out in a blaze of glory and madness, Cersei was truly mad, yet she gives up completely while Dany takes the spotlight of lunatic, it just doesn’t seem right, it feels completely rushed. Moving onto the final episode, I was hoping despite all that had happened this episode could make the ending still satisfying to a degree, everyone would have to fight Dany and restore order to the kingdom, again the visuals are stunning, the scene where Drogons wings fly over Dany and it looks like she’s half human half dragon was crazy good, I also loved how the throne room looked exactly the same as it did in season two when she had her vision of the red keep, but the action is over before it starts, with Jon killing Dany while she kisses him, it was certainly an anti-climax, what happens from here is by far the worst.

This is where I just wanted the show to end already, there are so many strange things going on in the finale, Grey worm decides to not kill Jon Snow despite already being shown as blood crazed and exclusively loyal to Dany, Grey worm has been in Westeros for maybe a year or less I’m not sure and at no point does he show any care for the other lords of the kingdom, only his queens law, as you’d expect, he’s from the other side of the world and it was Dany who saved him from slavery, he only came to Westeros to serve Dany, but for some reason he keeps both Tyrion and Jon alive and awaits the judgement of some nobles he barely knows or cares about, and what great judgement they all have. This was the biggest crime of all for me, Tyrion spouts some absolute garbage about stories uniting people, to one point I get it, everyone loves a good story about their ruler but really it just wasn’t a very convincing reason overall for me, and to choose Bran as the King of Westeros, what… the … f### ok so the reasoning for Bran to be king is that he, well, knows everything, but this isn’t even a good reason, a king must have heart, he must sympathise with his people and make a choice for the realm he believes is right, having an overpowered omniscient wizard as king is a terrible choice, Bran is so un-relatable, he can’t even connect to his siblings, telling Sansa how she looked beautiful during one of the most traumatising moments of her life and completely freaking her out for example in season seven, Bran also has zero experience ruling anything, he is literally the least suitable choice for king out of everyone sat there, just elect the Dornish geezer because he has a cool beard, that makes for a good story, Brans sister who has survived the Lannisters, Littlefinger and Ramsey Bolton and has also got experience ruling the north is just passed up for the magical tree wizard, I was happy Sansa ended up ruling the north but really did Tyrion not consider her for the throne? She even shows her commanding presence when she completely shuts down her uncle who tries to state why he should be king. Now what about the other characters, Jon gets sent back to the wall, what an unsatisfying character arc for the man rising above his constant mistreatment through childhood as the bastard, as the soldier on the wall, to lord commander, to king in the north, the ultimate underdog, oh then back to the wall, it’s just ridiculous and he doesn’t even seem bothered, neither do his siblings, then he goes off with the wildlings to I assume become king of the free folk which isn’t really explained but we just take it as it is, poor effort I think. The complete decline of smart decisions is shown off with the new small council, why is Bronn on the small council! This is completely baffling, I liked Bronn’s whole point of all Lords and houses beginning out as cut throats, Littlefinger started out from nothing but he’s a devious genius who worked his way up to the small council, Bronn is just there, chilling as the new master of coin literally nothing but a bloodthirsty mercenary, I mean who needs someone with actual knowledge of Westeros’ economy anyway? It was simply so we could see a familiar character we once liked be there for maybe an attempt of fan service or something, it’s strange the final season on one hand feels like a bad attempt of fan service but then also a bad attempt of completely subverting fan expectations.

So, game of thrones, this is how I feel overall, it was my favourite tv show hands down, it was genius, the first four seasons are near perfect to me, I’d say the decline of this show is down to two main things, the deviation from the books, unfortunately the writers of the show don’t live up to George R.R Martins masterful way with words, the rushed nature, they only had two seasons to finish everything up, with less episodes too, we cannot fully blame the writers, I think in earlier seasons they demonstrated an ability to make great original content for the show, but with the added pressure of finishing the show in just two seasons and thirteen episodes this just put things in disarray, the mistreating of characters, bad dialogue, flimsy plot choices and an unsatisfactory ending. However despite this I’d say we can still enjoy the good parts of this show, like any form of art, its subject to interpretation, nothing can be perfect and this is ok, I hope the writers of game of thrones take all criticism constructively and don’t get disheartened by the some of the monumental hate they’re getting, this is how art improves, through feedback, I don’t think game of thrones should be rewritten or anything like some are proposing, take it for what it is and enjoy the show for what it once was, a masterpiece and it’s not like there were not some enjoyable parts in the last season, the battle for Winterfell in episode three of season eight was genuinely incredible to me, and who’s to say if you loved the last two seasons you’re wrong, this is simply my opinion so by all means if you loved game of thrones all the way through, more power to you, don’t let others ruin your opinion, I think it’s important for us all to have our own opinion on shows and other forms of entertainment, this is mine, let me know yours! Thanks for reading, peace dudes : )

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