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Game of Thrones weaved a tumultuous tapestry of rags to riches to ruins in character arcs laced with irony, and the meek finally inherited the earth.


Game of Thrones could have flown off its grand literary mission at any time -- into a thicket of cringeworthy cruelty and gratuitous shock twists. Miraculously it never did. The story prevailed triumphantly.


In an ultimate back story irony, it was much of the enormous fan base and some snarky critics who lost the threads, sauntering into shallow partisan perceptions and confused feminism. It seems to have shrouded the realities for them.  


The creators pulled off an amazing feat in completing the arcs of a colorful array of characters, all of whom we came to know personally and cared about -- or else loathed in an extremely personal way.


In the end, some critics became more obsessed with misplaced coffee cups and an imagined plot against females.


More understanding of the full multi-season story might come by adding a “Y” to the Iron Throne. It's all irony — all of it.


Threads of irony are woven into every single character and every episode in a colorful tapestry that ultimately turns magic when the producers bring it all home. Let's consider some of those.


First, the major endgame ironies:


The iron throne of power becomes a wheelchair. It signals the end of an era of warrior kings, private armies and rule by royal blood. No more mad arsonists, debauchers or spoiled children in charge. It is melted down in a final blaze of dragon fire.


Why? Was it vengeance when Drogon finally destroyed the emblem of all powermongers, and especially of the Targaryens who used their fiery beast power to create a dynasty for themselves in the first place.


But then, ironically, they ruined the reptilian culture with captivity, overcontrol and mismanagement, squandering that power. Once powerful dragons had been shrunken by that oppression; the Targaryens were weakened and overthrown.


In an ultimate final irony, Dani's resurrected dragon power melts the throne, and leaves the ultimate bastard, Jon Snow, as the last of the Targaryens, being without one. The dragon flew away; Jon went north.


We recall that as Jon approached the castle to confront Dani, Drogon arose from a mountain of ashes and the ruins of what he had wrought, as if having buried his head in shame for the horrors of death and ruin, the continued soulless killing by the castrated and emotionless unsullied.


He reaches down to face up close the soul-tortured rightful king Targaryen who goes to confront the new Queen. She has turned to iron, like the throne, and there seems to be a kind of understanding.


When rightful King Rhaeger's pleas for sanity, mercy and reason then go unheeded and he shivs his beloved but murderous would-be queen, Drogon expresses his guilt and anguish loudly. The iron throne morphs into a stream of molten, shapeless lava. The monstrous child flies away with his beloved Mother.


So Bran the Broken, the new ruler, represents extreme passivity to the point of physical helplessness, but with the power of mind, not the sadistic and mindless violence of the Mad King who relished his power of fire. Ironically, Dani took the place of her grandfather and actually does burn the city, also unleashing the green fire caches he left under the city long ago.


So power leadership in Westeros is replaced by the bickerings and uncertain compromises of politics, and the incessant quest to agree on priorities and come up with the money. Dictatorship now leans toward the concept of Democracy, a parliament or senate. Feudal lords laugh at the bizarre idea of letting their peasant underlings have a say, but their days are numbered.


One thing that doesn't impress the new group of violence-sated rulers are the knightly accomplishments of Edmund Tully, who tries to stir their support in vain, and is asked to sit down. Westeros needs no more war, and is now managed by a peculiar mix of personalities who have been downtrodden, denigrated and abused. Broken Bran and the biggest underdogs and bastards of the kingdom take power.


Tyrion started the show as a dwarf despised as a freak, whose birth killed his mother, and being eternally abused by his royal Lannister family. He drowns his plight with pleasure in sex and wine.


At one point, it is this rakish and denigrated dwarf who rallies the city in defense of invasion and unleashes stashes of green fire to vanquish an enemy fleet. King Joffrey holds the title, but proves a blustering coward.


His protective mother, Cercei, actually sends a knight to kill the heroic Tyrion even before the battle ends. It is a lowly serf who saves him and kills a knight in the process. Irony abounds all over this episode and others.


Tyrion finally emerges after many learning and growing adventures and a very long and important conversation with Bran as the de facto prime minister of the new realm. He has learned and acknowledges the power of mythical stories, many oozing in ironies. Even today, myth-laced stories permeate our own history books.


He realizes that all of his wishes for a “better world” now rest largely and ironically in his own hands. He becomes a kingmaker. He pivots to full allegiance to Bran's mystical wisdom. He will help maintain Bran in power with tales of his miraculous journey to the north and his ultimate destruction of the Night King while he works to rebuild the remnants of King's Landing with its survivors.


And there is Sam Tarley, who began the show as a fat cowardly kid disowned by his family and banished to the North Watch. How low can you get? He emerges as heroic and the keeper of wisdom for the entire kingdom. As he now represents the Westeros throne, he can likely work out the stolen books situation and bring forward some of the stagnated ancient mindset.


He has already delivered news that shook and tore apart the kingdom, has planted the seeds for a full democracy, has killed a White Walker as no man had, courageously cared for a woman and child, and was bold enough to destroy gray scale affliction. Perhaps he can establish a medical component of the new government and actually fight the affliction.


Does the future look bright ahead with Sam having some power? Already the critics have spotted a misplaced water bottle under his chair.


Brienne becomes the first female knight of the realm and now first knight of the kingdom. She fittingly completes the complimentary historic achievements of the man, Jamie Lannister, who had saved her life and made her a knight. One absurd critic said it was ludicrous for this female to pay homage to this male who (horrors!) had deserted her after a mutual consent sexual experience.


This critic wailed about the evil of breaking Brienne's heart, briefly anyway, and completely ignored the female Arya who spurned the new Lord Gendry and broke his heart for a few moments as well. This gender-sensitive writer likely doesn't appreciate the courage and honor shown by the denigrated “King Slayer” in the end either. Brienne did. He had a compelling reason to leave her and Winterfell — to save the great and overpowering love of his life, his twin.  


Hail to Jamie, who was introduced as a self-centered jerk, troubled with his legacy of back-stabbing the king he served. He wallows selfishly in his infamy. But he finally emerges as one of the story's most courageous and honorable characters. More irony and another arc of character development.


It was an altogether fitting end as the twins, who once shared a crib, die together in each other's loving arms, the Lannister kingdom crashing down on top of them. From crib to crypt, they were forever entwined.


Bronn, once denigrated as only a 'sell-sword,” is the new Master of Coin. His priorities are wealth and sex. Brienne will argue with him that replacing port facilities are a better use of money than rebuilding the brothels first. He will argue that they produce needed revenue to rebuild the rest of it. Such is democracy, politics and clashing values in a new world.


Ser Davos also sits at the ruling table. He is a master smuggler with eight stubs of fingers to hamper his swordplay, an example of Stannis' weird corporeal punishment. What does he represent in the new non-royal world of Westeros?


He knows all the ways of commerce, legal or not; he must be on the Administrative Council. Throughout the story, he remarks of his own ironic survival, considering his lack of fighting skills. Even Stannis denigrated him as a fallen man, a smuggler. Now, he shares power with the other rags to riches icons of the realm.


There is a vacancy for the Master of Whisperers and one bewildered critic wondered why, given that wars are over. In our world, every company, agency and organization has a director of communications and strives to stay informed. Many can be classified as spies. We can hope that the new person won't turn children into spies and vicious murderers in return for sweets. The side story of children who are actually cold-blooded murderers is one of many ironies bulging out of the story at every turn.


Of course the rags to riches ironies abound not only with the surviving rulers, but with the central characters as well. The Starks become ironic rulers and explorers in different ways.


Jon Snow, first relegated to the North Watch as a bastard who couldn't follow Ned Stark into the dangerous Lannister court, is the rightful king who doesn't want to rule. With the White Walkers vanquished, he goes to explore a now peaceful part of the kingdom with a loyal following. He rules in a land of snow. Perhaps he will find another Wildling lover and build a colony around the hot springs where he and Ygritte made love.

One critic questioned the continued need for a Night's Watch with the Walkers eliminated, and saw no explanation.


Of course, Tyrion answered the question within seconds: We will always need a place for broken men, a place for community, recovery, brotherhood, redemption, and now, after the war, for unencumbered exploration of a free north and establishment of a new, expanded realm, governed by Sansa Stark. She wants to know it all. It is not a fortress now, but an outpost for adventure. Jon and Sansa work together.


Arya Stark goes from a street urchin to a brave and competent warrior who takes her own ship to explore the world beyond the maps, hoisting the Wolf emblem. In a world of swords and hammers, she wields a rapier. She has no vaunted Valerian steel; she has a needle. And she becomes perhaps the most ambitious of all of the characters, not to rule this ash-blown kingdom but to explore new worlds. From no control to full control of her destiny, she travels the years, growing up as the series runs.


In a memorable ironic twist in Arya's arc, the assassin waif seems to be moments from gutting her as she lies weak and bleeding. But she has been struck blind and tormented by the Waif, beaten and humiliated daily.


She is now friend to the darkness, knows it well, and she deftly extinguishes the candle to take full advantage as she slays her tormentor. She then triumphantly announces the recovery of her Lady Stark identity, forged in that blood, and puts the chains of anonymity behind her.


Perhaps Arya will also take a lover somewhere. She willed her first sexual experience and seems to be in control of her gender, as she is everything else. The adventure continues.


Sansa Stark, much abused by two of the most despicable characters in all of literature, emerges as a woman who takes control of her destiny, demands a queenship and gets it. She expertly saves Winterfell with an eyes-open alliance with treacherous Little Finger, then exposes and executes him for his long-standing evils. All the while we were enswathed in her helplessness, she was building her strength to ultimately prevail.


We might note the obvious irony of Ramsey Bolton being eaten by his own pack of dogs, after starving them for the occasion.


Bran Stark's adventures extend into another reality of mind, embracing past, present and future. It is the challenge of any ruler, in this world or ours, to make wise decisions based on their perceptions of past, present and future considerations.


How much does Bran see? Has he seen it all unfold in his passive state, and with this inner knowledge, saw no need to interfere? Or does he have actual mind powers, and has he manipulated much of it all along? These are questions we ask of our own leaders today.


He chose to take his stand by the sacred tree and knew the Night King would come there. He gave Arya the symbolic dagger that would have killed him long ago, that came to ultimately bring down His Zombified Majesty and save him at the seeming brink of death. He seems to confirm, in the end, that everyone is where they are supposed to be. This may actually be true for us in our lives as well.


One critic accused Bran of being a worthless do-nothing across the show, certainly not deserving of a crown. Yet, how would he himself quell huge armies of both the living and the dead, and prevent Dani from torching King's Landing. As an Oracle, he surely saw his survival to this point, enough to question Tyrion: Why do you think I've come all this way? He had a vision, we recall, of a dragon flying over King's Landing. What else did he see? He saw himself there, not dead.


In the end, Bran represents the ultimate quest for vision, how best to rule.  He goes to his three-eyeed raven's eye view of Drogon --- and the beautiful remains of the Great Lost White Hope. He goes to seek connection with Drogon. More on that later ...


Other characters are swathed in their ironic just desserts.


Theon Greyjoy, once a resentful bastard in the Stark clan, vents his frustrations with cruelty and vengeance once empowered, only to be symbolically castrated, becoming a zombie without spirit. He recovers heroically and dies in a brave singular assault on the Night King.


Some critics claim that every one of the story's linchpins centers around a woman being horrifically abused or killed. Perhaps no woman in the series has suffered as much as Theon. Men are forever losing their symbolic balls in these environs.  


There are those thousands of castrated Unsullied, deprived of both personality and scrotum. There is poor castrated Varys, watching his balls sizzle on a grill.


Other males suffer in this show too, like those countless thousands killed in battle and Arya's little butcher boy friend. Rickon Stark is imprisoned, his direwolf killed and his wildling companion murdered by Ramsey. Then he is used as human bait to lure his brother Jon, and shot dead. He barely got to speak a line.


The self-suffering Hound, courageous but always haunted by the fire, faces the zombified brother who gave him that eternal fear. Unable to kill him otherwise, this determined brother faces his fear and hurls them both downward into a massive, raging inferno.


So we have a patchwork of obscure characters who rise to power in Westeros or die trying, while the power centers of Lannister and Targaryen collapse around them.


These dominant powers in the series were both female and are ultimately much alike. Cercei Lannister and Danerys Stormborn. Woman power. Characters who suffer deep humiliation and servitude even while proclaiming royalty power. Women who are ultimately capable of abhorrent violence and vengeance.


The story seems to imply that this was necessary for their survival, their becoming capable of indiscriminate violence and personifying the evil which they seek to destroy.


Cercei is treated as family property in a marriage to King Robert Baratheon, melding the two families in power. Her incestuous love with Jamie is her solace and gives her three royal children to love.


Dani and her arrogant brother, royalty pretenders and nuisances to the Baratheon throne, are banished from the court and she is brutally taken by a Dothraki chief in return for a pledge of military assistance. Woman as property.


Cercei counters her situation with her trademark prop, a glass of wine. Strong wine leads to a drunken king failing his thrust, and being gored fatally by a wild boar. She colludes with her ascendant brattish son and the ever-devious “Little Finger” to execute Ned Stark and protect the incest secret. He is ultimately and fittingly executed by Sansa and Arya, Ned's daughters.


Dani, meantime, seduces the Dothraki king with beauty and frontal sex and ultimately watches with satisfaction as her new king kills her cruel brother with gruesome dispatch. So she can be cruel – early on.


Given that Dothrakis are basically loot and plunder savages, she then faces strong resentment and a dim fate herself as her lover lies dying and she appears to be sexually sumptuous, ripe for the taking.  


But Targaryens, it turns out, can call on a resurrected dragon power, thanks to her husband's eggs. She boldly steps into the flames of her man's funeral pyre with three eggs and proves impervious. She simultaneously burns a traitorous witch alive, brings dragon babies to life, and begins her quest for the Iron Throne.


All along the way, she displays the same arrogance as her brother. One wonders how the story would have played had she somehow died and her brother had taken her role. I doubt he would get much sympathy.


When Dani's baby dragons are stolen early-on, she first summons the power to command those streams of fire onto her enemies. She soon comes to relish the power and the joy of freeing slaves, adding to her proclaimed titles. The fans come to love her. She is engorged with her power and heroic image. White as purity, the breaker of chains. She represents freedom, the desire and lust of all personalities.


So over time, Dani burns other people alive with less discrimination, ruthless Dothrakis, the people she now leads, slavers, and all who oppose her. Is this symbolic of hellfire upon the evil?


Or the other question prevailing in the show – is she like her father? Can we trust her? Tyrion and Varys are especially in wonder, while she wonders also if she can trust them. None seem trustworthy.


Dani burns Sam's parents alive simply because of their loyalty to their queen. She torches Varys for his underhanded championing of Jon Snow, and dismisses Jon himself when he won't do her bidding for coitus and the sharing of power. She implies that the rejections she faces before her leave her no choice but to impose another fear-driven power rule.


But Jon is an honorable man who sees only horror in the unnecessary carnage of King's Landing, the killing of prisoners, and the rise of another ruthless empire enforced by dragon fire, savage Dothrakis and heartless eunuch killers. They will demand fealty from his own family and he knows Sansa and Arya won't take her crap. They will be heroic even if he isn't.


In the end, the rightful king by lineage is the hero who saves Westeros from another despotic and murderous ruler and breaks the symbolic 'wheel' that she vowed to break but only perpetuated. Ironically, he has to kill this beautiful embodiment that he loves to get that done. He does it the same way Jamie killed the Mad King, and at  the same place.


The other woman forged to power by events is Cercei, of course.  But her newfound Lannister power after the demise of King Robert and the Starks soon faces the reality of a shockingly depraved and cowardly son on the Iron Throne.


Again, she is denigrated and loses control. Again, her father demands an unwanted marriage to forge an alliance. In the drama that follows, she subsequently cradles a son dying grotesquely from poison.


Her misplaced charges of guilt against Tyrion then lead directly and ultimately to her father's death, ironically ending her subjugation to him for an arranged marriage to a Tyrell. He was a tyrant over her in any case and now gone.


Ironically, need we say it, much of the fault for her father's death lies with her lover-twin, Jaime, who released Tyrion to do it. But she, of course, was the reason he was imprisoned in the first place. Meantime, Madame Tyrell and Little Finger poison the brat king and spirit away Sansa even while she is also being blamed for the murder.  


There are more ironic entanglements, always in this series.


Vengeful Dorne women, enraged by the death of their combat champion who represents Tyrion, poison daughter Myrcella — another child tragically gone by poison. Cercei's schemes continue to backfire upon her with ironic consequences.


Then, as she loses influence with her infantile son, the new King Tommen, and faces the disrespectful incoming Queen, she sets in motion a conspiratorial alliance with a religious sect. It backfires spectacularly, with the same morals accusations ironically leveled upon her. Another plan gone disastrously awry, more hideous consequences. Suffering on a prison floor.


She is paraded naked in the streets to face humiliation and abuse rarely seen so vividly. We see her turned into bloodied, dung-smeared misery while her juvenile son is mesmerized by the visions of a religious zealot. Such tragedy.


Symbolically, she melts into the robotic monster who cradles her and carries her away to safety and security. She becomes monstrous, impervious as her monster knight protector, also numbed by those million cuts of death.


High Sparrow, the preacher in rags, represents an ironic religion that celebrates a good God while inflicting horrible pain and abuse in his name. In malice, he wants to torment Cercei even more, and her son stands as an impotent dupe. An impotent king is a new irony for the kingdom.


But Cercei, has the final ironic solution — the volatile green fire that Mad King Targaryen might have unleashed from the bowels of the city, still there due to her lover twin's dastardly and/or heroic backstabbing. King Robert's subsequent victory had made her a Queen but also put her into his dominating autocracy and the squalor of King's Landing. Such a tapestry of diminished and debauched hopes and dreams.


So eventually a transformed monster Queen arises and blows up the city's religious edifice and virtually all of the people of means.


This great victory ironically costs her — the suicide of her hapless son — but she can now face this with the steel eyes of a woman who has great power and finally comes to relish it. She looks upon the corpse of the incompetent and weak Tommen, not grieving but disappointed again at another son without worthy credentials to rule. She now believes she has those credentials and is destined to use them.


So both Cercei and Dani rise from denigration, abuse and suffering in their lives, ascending to power with increasingly violent acts of retribution against their perceived enemies, a kind of parallel universe. In her own way, Arya does the same, another brave and strong woman created within this epic tale. From street beggar to world explorer.  


Dani, like Cercei, is literally overwhelmed near the end — with the traumatic vision of her beloved Missandei's head flying off her shoulders, with people like the trusted Varys perceiving her as weak, attempting to poison her, and others stating a clear preference for Jon Snow as the legitimate, best choice for the throne. Such hurt to such grand ambitions.


He has rejected her great dreams for them ruling together, her intimate companionship, a love lost no doubt due to his squeamish ideas about their kinship. She has lost two dragon children and suffered the consequences of bad decisions by Tyrion, a Lannister after all. It is altogether mind-warping.


Dani can obviously count on no one except Drogon, her rapacious Dothrakis, neutered and mindless killer regiments unsullied of sentiment, and herself alone. They exact sweet, savage revenge on the entire city.


It was not enough attacking Cercei in the tower, she wanted her nemesis to suffer by seeing King's Landing firebombed to ashes, just as she had been forced to watch Missandei's cruel execution, and hearing her final words – Burn them all! – ringing in her ears as she rode a powerful dragon over a sin-ridden city.


So Dani was now even igniting the green fire caches under the street in a triumphant Targaryen return to power. And then the similarly grieving Grey Worm's unsullied and jaundiced forces counted each human illogically as an enemy, showing no reason or honor or mercy.


While King Joffrey and Ramsay Bolton were severe brutes toward both women and men, they ironically never killed as many people as Dani did in one day by ravaging the half-million residents of King's Landing. Ironically, it is Dani and her dragon that deals a vengeful blow to the city's denizens who once threw dung on Cercei while she staggered by, naked and disgraced.


So Dani, like Cercei, was finally betrayed one time too many. She is now impervious, cares nothing about the thousands she has killed and ultimately states to Jon that the people “don't get to choose” and will bend the knee and have nothing to say about their fates. She and Drogon, the enforcer, will rule..


This is the character turn that many fans despised. They had embraced the White Queen as a Savior. They still denigrate the writers. So be it. The story is what it is anyway; case closed. Here is what happened:


In an ultimate irony, a worshipful Jon Snow, has to face the madness of power, realize another tyrant has been made, and kill a beautiful loved one. Two strong houses – Lannister and Targaryen – are deposed in one day. Is it the end of an era of endless  war in the seven kingdoms, all gone? How can the city rid itself of Dothrakis? They didn't deal with that question.


It seems the meek shall inherit the earth. Bran brings his own chair to the Westeros world. The feudal lords should see no threat from this crippled crown, and we can only hope that Yara and the Iron Islanders can keep the peace over their penchant for pillage.


So Cercei blows up the Sept. Dani blows up the city. Drogon blows up the whole idea of conflict. Two fated queens and the beast between them and the beast that grew within them.


And once more the age-old story of the corrupting influence of power is told, but with fresh perspectives and the richest tapestry of events one could imagine. One astute critic likened Dani's final turn as similar to the Lawrence of Arabia story. He was once a savior but eventually corrupted.


Yes, I myself had envisioned a different final chapter. Dani would see the folly of turning the city to ashes and the horror she has inflicted. In remorse, she would fly away and Jon Snow might well go with her, with Sansa and Tyrion, forever friends, ruling Westeros.  


And yet, upon reflection, one recalls more vividly all those cruelties inflicted by our idealistic, lovely Dani along the way. Seeing that her power is a fire-breathing beast, a band of plunder-and-kill Dothrakis and a mass of programmed killing machines, she eventually came to represent a primitive savagery that should truly pass into history.


Bran represents the hope for peace, the end of a dark medieval age, and the beginning of a more enlightened era. But if royalty is no longer the enlightenment, then who can provide it? Do we enlighten our own lives with our courage and free will? Do we seek charismatic leaders?


We've seen all these examples of cultural upheaval. The lowly and humble serf Podrick is now a knight and a worthy wheelchair pusher to a King.


Robert's bastard son Gendry is victimized by the Red Priestess Melissandre, whose zealous fire god worship truly gets out of hand and backs the wrong pretender, the longtime misled Stannis.


But Gendry escapes, forges many dragon stone weapons for the living resistance and is granted Lordship of a fiefdom. And he gets to service Arya's pragmatic, genital-focused needs before assuming his estate.


The neutered and emotion-free Gray Worm, derived of his humanity, tastes intimacy and passion for the first time with Missandei. Her tragic loss triggers his ruthless, robotic self with emotional vengeance. He experiences love and loss, passion and grief. He finally seeks to regain his humanity by voyaging to Missandei's native land.


From the books, we know this place has beautiful butterflies which are, ironically, poison.


In the end, we ask ourselves if we can blame or praise any of the characters, for what they were or what they ultimately became. We see their stories unfold and measure the tolls of trauma, hatred and revenge on their very souls. We see them molded and shaped by events well beyond their control; we see them rise from their own ashes and reach for 'a better world.


We see the Iron Throne melted, and the Irony Throne rising out of the snow-like ashes. We see pretenses of power that have led to ruin, the meek have inherited a city full of the innocent dead and a similarly broken but surviving new Monarch who has represented only Peace. He was entirely unknown until now, no legends, no lineage, no sword with a name. He will become a legend of another kind, and all at hand hope for and work toward a peaceful Westeros.


I wish the angry critics peace as well, and hope they will ultimately  share the mellow and melodious vision that will come from thoroughly inspecting the multitude of sparkling sojourns that fill this magic carpet. Consider that it's much more than you think it is.


Perhaps Westeros should be re-named the Land of Irony. But as we study both stories and our own history, maybe we should reserve that title for our own world. Earth richly deserves it.


If we are to receive an overriding personal lesson from GOT, it may be that the seeds and the fruit of Goodness and Evil exist in all humankind, every individual. Our seeds will bear the fruits of our choices, bitter or sweet, and we will live with a plethora of both.


Choices and ironies abound as we make our confused way toward an uncertain end.  Men and women turn out to be basically the same, a variation of one another in matters of mind, heart and spirit.


In this story, Goodness prevailed and the themes came full circle. I applaud the writers for pulling off this considerable feat, and I wish some of the urban critics would drop their unwarranted gender-laced prejudices and look at the philosophical and logical conclusions in a more lucid light. We may never see the likes of this show again. Some pundits haven't really seen it at all.


Ironically, some will continue to ride Dani's dragon dynasty glory and call for a re-write of the entire final season, even as the series is inundated with awards.


And even they may have missed a telling moment while the motley crew of new King's Landing overlords speculated at the end.


Drogon, carrying the beautiful corpse of his mother, flew away gloriously from the ruins of ambition. In a second before it would be revealed where the dragon was last seen, it was Bronn, the absolute master of the inappropriate and ill-timed remark, who bursts in to interject his wishes for a great separation.


Bran the Broken disengages from the ruling table and leaves to establish a connection with the big-brained beast.


Yes, we do wonder at the earlier meeting between Dani and the second Red Priestess we have known in the series, a meeting that seemed to go nowhere in the story but revealed her home. We believe that Drogon may be headed to that very location, for another Red Priestess to again bring forth the miracle of physical resurrection.


And why not? Jon has already been resurrected in the same way, and the eventual reign of Jon and Dani, the arisen saviors, conquerors of death could be a possibility. The series leaves this as an open question even as the creators say it's all over.  That's it.


Perhaps I'll write a new season, and I know for sure I'm having Hot Pie come to work in the King's Bakery.


— Jim Cleveland

11-16-19

THRONE OF IRONY

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© Jim Cleveland 2017