It took three tries to finally get through the first scene, the first few seconds along with countless urging by my friend to get through the first episode and I finally did, but then couldn’t stop at that, could I? How could I have given up without knowing the fate of the endearing little boy and the man who pushed him and said, ‘Oh the things we do for love!’ ? It has been a journey of ups and downs, of declarations of abandoning the whole show if he died or if she was killed, but by the end, a fan was born, one who learnt to live with the heartbreaks.
Awaiting fates of the characters I love/ loved became a habit. Despair became a certainty by the end of each season. Do not love too much I was warned but who could remain unaffected by the gutsy tomboy, or the wise little imp. My friend would smirk when I sung praises of Ned Stark, ‘how brave, oh how kind he is’. But soon I learnt, as did Cersei, that the Gods have no mercy, that’s why they’re Gods. Nevertheless I found myself praying for the Starks and crying for their loss. The Red Wedding almost made me come undone. Poor little Aria, I wept!
Where the Starks were mourned and pitied, the Lannisters collected my wrath. From Cersei to Joffrey, I wished death upon them all. Here I must confess I didn’t like Tyrion much at the beginning, for me it was a slow but steady affection. But he was the Lannister who remembered to pay his debts. Among all the scenes I love, one of my favorite became the one where Lord Tywin is killed in his own privy, by the very son he always refused to accept. Talk about irony! And oh Game Of Thrones is full of them. It is there when the girl, the white frightened damsel is married off as a barter for a powerful army. Neither her brother nor her husband would have guessed how this girl would emerge as the most powerful and courageous woman with three dragons by her side. How she would take on the world with fire and wisdom. Dragons and Tyrion. How the outcasts together take on the journey to the west, to reclaim the Iron Throne. Daenerys Stormborn, the Mother of Dragons, the last surviving Targaryen, makes Tyrion Lannister the Hand of the Queen, and for me that was one of the best scenes of the series. I watched as tears formed in the eyes of the man I admired, for he was atlast home, accepted and valued.
Now comes the wait for the ship, the arrival of which is going to change the fate of them all. The fates of Jon Snow who just won his battle with the despicable Ramsay, of Sansa whom I do not trust, of the sly Little Finger who seems to have a trick or two up his sleeves. The dead are coming too, for Hodor held the door, for the Third Eye of the Raven had predicted so. A new wind of change is blowing across the fates of everyone I love and hate. And the great game is terrifying!