Of all the shock tactics in Game of Thrones’ repertoire—the beheadings, the rapes, the incest, the giants, and the dragons—perhaps the most effective one now, six bloody and brutal seasons in, is simply allowing our heroes a hard-won, no-strings victory.
Three sisters reunited with their long-lost brothers and three queens began rallying armies for their righteous, vindictive returns in “Book of the Stranger,” an episode that came deliriously close at times to pure, joyful catharsis.
The hour was uncommonly kind to some of the show’s most recently abused characters: Jorah, despite his age, his greyscale, and his heartsick, old-fashioned loyalty, emerged gallant in the eyes of viewers—especially in contrast to his scene partner Daario, whose banter was often mean-spirited and arrogant. (A sharp, Brienne-style side-eye from us for kissing the naked-lady-shaped hilt of his knife, too.)
Cersei, along with Jaime, hatched the first good plan the twins have had in years: realigning with the Tyrells (and their considerable army) in a bid to overthrow the High Sparrow in King’s Landing. Watching a short-haired Cersei begin to sneer and scheme again, weeks after losing Myrcella and her royal dignity, was a thrill underscored by the scene’s triumphant musical cue: a few looming notes from “The Rains of Castamere,” a House Lannister favorite.
A tearful, broken Theon completed his voyage home to Pyke to face the sister whose rescue he rejected two seasons ago. Yara was hard, harsh, and mistrusting of her brother’s return—understandably, given Theon’s reappearance just days after their father’s death. But more than anger, there was pain in Yara’s description of Theon’s “betrayal.” Which is what made his next words, “You should rule the Iron Islands,” so redeeming.
Yara is taken aback—before “Reek” and Ramsay, the Prince of the Iron Islands would have never admitted his sister was more qualified to rule. Now? He begs to help secure the Seastone Chair for her. Theirs was the most fraught of the three sibling reunions in “Book of the Stranger,” but it ends in newfound solidarity, and even sweetness. (Is this still Game of Thrones?)
But nothing, of course, compared to the episode’s emotional centerpiece: Sansa Stark and Jon Snow, together in one place again. We had all expected to see Sansa ride through the gates of Castle Black—I doubt anyone, however, expected it to come so soon, at a time when her brother was still actually inside. (How did Sansa traverse the roughly 600 miles from Winterfell to Castle Black in only a few days, you ask? Who cares, but thank you for asking.)
The misery of the Stark children’s near-reunions and constant misses—Arya arriving at the Red Wedding too late, the Hound turning her away from the Eyrie when Sansa was inside—has been one of the show’s cruelest jokes since Ned was beheaded and the Stark family scattered. Even better than seeing Sansa and Jon lock eyes, run to each other, and embrace, however, were the smaller, quieter moments that came after.
Sansa back in Northern furs, talking to Jon about Old Nan’s pea and onion kidney pies. Her half-joking regret at having been such “an ass” to Jon during their peaceful days in Winterfell. Jon’s smiling acknowledgment of his past emo self, “always sulking in the corner while the rest of you played.” Sansa’s profound regret at leaving Winterfell: “Don’t you wish we could go back to the day we left? I want to scream at myself, ‘Don’t go, you idiot.’” (Echoing Bran’s greenseeing trip to the Tower of Joy last week and his shouts at his father.)
Best of all, however, was the slow, matter-of-fact unveiling of Sansa’s newly self-possessed demeanor and her immovable resolve to retake Winterfell. Like Margaery cajoling Loras to stay strong for the “future of our family” (the hour’s second sibling reunion, albeit a less compelling one), it’s Sansa who instructs Jon to stay, rally the Wildlings against Ramsay, and fight. Where Jon demurs, Sansa pushes back: “I want you to help me. But I’ll do it myself if I have to.”
When Jon reads Ramsay’s ransom letter, demanding Sansa in return for Rickon, he falters at a line that Sansa impatiently then reads aloud herself: “You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister.” Jon’s gaze turns downward, uncomfortably. Sansa’s remains fixed, her voice never shaking. She’s been terrorized and abused for four years, but in response, she’s begun to reclaim it, acknowledging her trauma in a way that strengthens her. It’s an overdue debt paid to a character who earned this moment a long, long time ago, but it’s better to see it late than never.
Now back in Winterfell, with her brother at her side, Sansa, like queens Daenerys and Cersei, is determined to rally an army, get revenge, and take back what’s hers. It couldn’t come any sooner: Ramsay has become a dead weight on the show, a one-trick character who occupies an indulgent amount of screen time. Whether it’s killing or raping or torturing, little that we’ve seen of Ramsay illustrates anything about him other than his brutality. (Even Joffrey had more layers than this.) It was a shame to see Osha, a character beloved since Season 1, die for the sake of making the same point again.
Not every plot point in “Book of the Stranger” was a home run. Possibly rendering four seasons of Daenerys’s story largely moot with that final shot is a high-stakes gamble the show will have to justify—and soon. Daenerys began her queen’s journey in the same temple she burnt down tonight. Just like four seasons ago, she later emerged from the flames and saw an entire khalasar bow at her feet. And just like four seasons ago, she’s still determined to sail West.
Apart from the dragons and the havoc she’s wreaked all over Slaver’s Bay—which Tyrion is correcting all on his own—has that much really changed between then and now? Daenerys still relies on titles and prophecies, flames and spectacle. Her proximity to the dosh khaleen, women who similarly once believed in their own singular destiny, held the promise of meaningful exchanges that both sides could learn from.
Is Daenerys a better, wiser queen for having lived with the dosh khaleen? Does she better understand how to rule than she did the day she rode away on Drogon’s back? (Tyrion says Daenerys acknowledges “she erred by abolishing slavery and not establishing a new system to replace it,” though I’m not sure we’ve ever heard that from the queen herself.) Presumably, the show purposely reminded us of where Dany started for the sake of more than just symmetry—we just don’t know what else yet.
The sight of a small, fierce woman emerging from the flames unscathed was a stirring throwback to earlier days, when conquering the world still seemed as simple as a fairy tale. Back then, Daenerys’s seemingly unstoppable ascendancy was part of what made this show so addictively fun to watch. Whether Daenerys, like Sansa, is truly owning the consequences of her life so far—or if she’s simply coming full circle more or less unchanged, is already one of this season’s most intriguing questions.
We’re rooting for you, Dany. Don’t let us down.
