Game of Thrones - S6E7 - The Broken Man

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Previously on Game of Thrones, “Blood of My Blood”

Habitat For Humanity

When I saw we were getting a cold open instead of the usual theme music lead-in, I knew it would be lit.

A group of people are building a church on the hillside. Is this a vision of Bran’s? A regular flashback? And who’s that one guy carrying a tree trunk by himself?

Oh, my God. The Hound lives! He’s a part of this kind community led by Septon Ian McShane, who swears and is already infinitely more likable than the High Sparrow. He counsels on The Hound on his purpose - he must have one because he’s still here; hard to kill - and how a man can change. It’s pretty fucking adorable.

Of course, this doesn’t last. A trio from The Brotherhood Without Banners try to run their pockets, but Septon McShane puts them off. They return and slaughter everyone while The Hound is out getting firewood.

It’s so fucking on now.

Blink Twice for Danger

Margaery is playing the born-again role to perfection. She prays a lot. She’s wearing dresses that cover her body from neck to ankles. She’s smirking less. She’s abstaining from sex with her husband. Whoa. Slow down there, your highness. The High Sparrow reminds Margaery that desire be damn, it is her duty to provide her husband with an heir. Then he threatens Lady Olenna, who is unsurprisingly not playing along to get along.

Margaery meets with her grandmother under the judgmental and creepy gaze of Septa Unella. The Queen of Thorns refuses to believe this is the real Margaery before her and begs that she return to Highgarden. Margaery refuses, citing her wifely duties and newfound faith. What about Loras? Well, he’s still cooling his heels in the sept’s cells until he repents. That’s enough for Lady Olenna to stay in the capital, but Margaery again implores her to leave. Finally, she slips her grandmother a note and only then does Olenna back off. Alone, she unfolds the paper.

What is it? A bulleted list of Margaery’s plans? Dirt they can use to get rid of the High Sparrow? No, it’s a sketch of a rose. That’s… helpful.

Before heading home, Lady Olenna has one last verbal sparring match with Cersei, who wants an alliance. Lady Olenna breaks it down thusly:

I hate you. You suck. You’re evil. You fucked me over. No. I’m never helping you. This is all your fault. I hate your face SO much. I hate you like Mrs. White hated Yvette the maid for fucking her husband. No one likes you. You’re alone. I hope you die.

A Closed Mouth Doesn’t Get Fed

Jon approaches the Wildlings to ask their assistance in fighting for Winterfell. They’re apprehensive, of course. That wasn’t the deal when Jon gave them safe passage beyond the wall. Still, joining Jon makes sense and he pleads his case well. If the Bolton army and their allies defeat Jon (and they will without the Wildlings’ help), they will turn their attention to slaughtering the Wildlings.

Wun Wun is the first to get on board. He’s like, “Whose mammoth we taking?”

Next, they head to Bear Island where they ask Lady Lyanna Mormont for her fighting men. She’s about ten-years-old and not here for the play play. She don’t care about Jon’s close relationship with her uncle. She wants receipts. Why should she get involved? In steps Davos to warn of the White Walkers and finally Lady Mormont agrees. She will provide them with all 62 of her fighting men.

Not 62,000. Not 6,200. 62.

6 in the tens place and 2 in the ones place 62.

Jon is like, “Is this Common Core?”

Finally, they visit Lord Glover, who doesn’t even need to think about it. Nope. The Boltons helped them get their land back from the Ironborn. What have you done for them lately, Jon and Sansa? Glover lists all of Robb’s poor decisions and says House Stark died with Robb.

Welp.

Jon’s army - less than 5,000 total - are camped where Stannis’ army made their command center. Jon also wants to strike soon - just like Stannis did - so they’re not trapped by a storm. Sansa has little faith in their motley crew and insists they enlist more help before making a move. Jon won’t budge.

Sansa sends a raven. Most likely to Littlefinger. If you pause it and look closely at the parchment you can just make out:

Dear Petyr,

Remember how I said you should go fuck yourself? Yeah. About that…

The Freys Can’t Do Shit Right

Jaime arrives at Riverrun to find a sad, sad state of affairs. The Freys threaten to hang Edmure if the Blackfish doesn’t surrender the castle. Blackfish is like, “Nah.” Then they threaten to slit Edmure’s throat because the method is clearly what’s stopping them from getting their way. Blackfish is like, “Nah.” Bluff called, they resolve to try again later. Jaime puts an end to that, slaps a few faces, and places Bronn in charge of making their siege look more siege-y and less like a broke-ass Bonnaroo.

He parlays with the Blackfish, who’s still like, “Nah.” He’s not giving up his home; he’s willing to die there. They have supplies to last two years. Jaime does not.

Welp.

Yara, Fix My Life

The Greyjoys are headed for Meereen to make a deal with Daenerys, but first they stop for a little R&R. Yara is all about the booze and women, but Theon.. not so much. Yara has had enough of broken Theon. If he’s truly beyond repair, then he should kill himself. But if the real Theon is still in there, she commands him to come out and play. She says all this while forcing him to down a flagon of ale.

This is pretty much the worst therapy ever. We’ll see if it works.

A Girl Done Fucked Up 

Arya books passage on a ship headed for Westeros the next day, but she’s attacked by the Waif wearing the face of an old woman. She stabs Arya twice in the stomach, twisting the blade. Arya escapes by jumping off a bridge and into the water. When she surfaces, she walks through the street bleeding. No one helps.

I’m 50/50 on whether that was Arya or Jaqen wearing Arya’s face. I’m leaning towards it really being her.

But a girl done fucked up, and I don’t mean Arya. Jaqen said Arya shouldn’t suffer, and instead of slitting Arya’s throat, the Waif took her time and pleasure in stabbing Arya.

Waif, who hurt you, boo?