Fifth Draft

I don’t watch Game of Thrones.

In case that wasn’t clear from the title, I’m starting off with that to get it out in the open.

My expertise with the series involves reading the 1st book in the Song of Ice and Fire books, “Game of Thrones,” watching almost all of the 1st season (I think I have an episode left? I had to stop because it was too sad, I knew what was coming for Ned and, oh yeah, I was going through a divorce at the time.), talking with friends about it who do watch it, and having the big plot points spoiled for me on Twitter.

*hi-fives social media

Since I didn’t have HBO Go, or HBO for that matter, (As a classroom teacher for many years, that was just a luxury too many for me to afford.), I missed the earlier seasons and I can pinpoint the exact moment I knew I didn’t want to watch the show.

The Red Wedding.

The death of Robb Stark.

Surprisingly, the death of Ned Stark in the book didn’t take me by too much of a surprise because it allowed me to finally see what GRRM was demonstrating. He declared, “The hero is dead. Trust no one. Not even your gut.”

When I finished book 1, I understood that perfectly. This was not going to be a fantasy series fought between a bunch of old, tired men, hungering for the war days of old and drinking vast amounts of wine. No, this was going to be a war of bastards and halfmen and outcast queens and mothers and daughters.

“Cool,” I naively thought, “I’m on board with that.” Keep in mind I was still in the early stages of fully expecting Robb Stark to pull out the win and seize the ultimate victory!

And then!

And then…

My Facebook feed filled with sad, vague, cryptic posts of “The Red Wedding” and its ramifications for the show. Not knowing what it was, I decided to take a look online and see and OHMYGOD what are they doing to Robb and his extremely pregnant wife?

That was it.

I had no one to root for.

That’s what I felt.

Because that’s what a story does. It’s supposed to to make you feel something. Be it anger or sadness, it’s succeeded. And, again, at this point in the story it wasn’t done by “showrunners who don’t get it and are hacks and I could do it so much better.” This was Mr. R. R. Martin himself, book 3, “A Storm Of Swords,” telling you yet again, “The hero is dead. Trust no one. Not even your gut.”

So, now we have Dany.

Dany. Dany. Dany.

Who heralded from the mad house Targaryen. Whose father was considered such a mad king that all the other leaders of Westeros united to put a stop to him. Whose older, beloved brother was murdered in the conflict. Whose other older brother routinely beat and threatened her. Who was sold away to marriage. Who lost her husband and, subsequently, her tribe. Who commands dragons with the sound of her voice. Who attempted, for years, to bring peace to those she met and anyone who didn’t work with her would burn. Who came THIS close to achieving her dream, the throne, only to have it taken from her.

Tell me.

Does anything I said NOT sound like Daenerys of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons?

Can people be unhappy with what happened to Dany?

Sure. That’s totally their prerogative. I was so unhappy about what happened to Robb I put off watching the show until now. the only reason I know as much as I do about the show is because my writing job demands some knowledge of it, so I look up episode summaries and viewer reviews.

I’m sorry if you were upset at Dany’s actions last night. I’m sure when something little doesn’t go your way you act completely and totally rational, without swearing or slapping the steering wheel of your car or throwing your phone on the couch, right? Never happens?

When I saw what was unfolding last night, *thanks social media again*, all I could think was:

About time.

Thanks for reading,

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Contact: robertmichaelacosta@gmail.com

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