Game of Thrones Returns to Grown-Ass Dragons and a Broken World

The fourth season of Game of Thrones is finally here, and our resident Westeros fanatic is back to chronicle how each episode differs from the books (and what it all means*).*
Image HBO
Image: HBO

The fourth season of Game of Thrones is finally here, and our resident Westeros fanatic is back to chronicle the TV adaptation of George R. R. Martin's vast and complex world, how each episode differs from the books, and what it all means. Valar dohaeris.

Daenerys: The dragons grow larger still, and now moments that once seemed charming—like the dragons hunting for fish—have grown terrifying, as the massive creatures rip livestock apart and even snap their teeth at her. She and her army set out for the slave city of Meereen, where she's told a thousand slaves died building it. So... three thousand less than the projected Qatar World Cup construction, then?

Daario—who is now played by Michael Huisman, the hot drug addict from Treme and the hot drug addict producer from Nashville—misses roll call because he's too busy having some sort of staring competition with Grey Worm for the honor of riding beside Daenerys. She puts a stop to this with a quickness, telling them they can both ride in the back and also maybe don't treat her like a prize? Undeterred, Daario asks to meet her privately to offer "strategic" advice, and then gives her a bouquet of flowers, which she's ready to turn down until he turns it into an Ophelian metaphor for better understanding her new people. Smooth move, Daario. The romance ends when they discover a dead slave nailed to a mile marker, with her hand pointed toward Meereen. Apparently they know Daenerys is coming and there's a dead slave child nailed to every mile marker on the road to the city—which is 163 miles away. Daenerys gets that dracarys look on her face, and the army marches on.

In the books: The contest between Grey Worm and Daario never occurs, nor does the "strategy" meeting, though both seem in character for Daario. Although we never hear about "dusk roses" in Essos, there are pale blue winter roses in northern Westers that play an important role in the story of Ned's sister, Lyanna. Despite changing actors and acquiring a beard, however, Daario tragically still does not have the completely insane three-pointed blue facial hair of the books.

Kings Landing: After melting down Ned Stark's broadsword, Ice, Tywin uses the Valyrian steel to forge two new swords—the first Valyrian weapons made since "the Doom of Valyria." He gives one to the newly returned and crippled Jaime, helpfully reminding him he'll "never be as good" with his left hand. He never wanted his heir in the Kingsguard—which forbids its knights from marrying or owning lands—but now that Jaime's lost a hand he sees an opportunity, and tries to send Jaime back to rule the family's seat of power in Casterly Rock. Jaime refuses; He doesn't want Casterly Rock, or a wife, or children. He wants what he's always wanted: Cersei. Unfortunately, their reunion has been less passionate than he imagined. Although he's been back for weeks, she refuses to let him touch her. When he asks why, she simply says, "You took too long."

In the books: The Doom of Valyria casually mentioned by Tywin was a mysterious catastrophic event that destroyed the powerful Valyrian freehold nearly four hundred years before the start of the series, and continues to render its land unliveable. The conversation between Jaime and Tywin, like many things in the episode, actually happened much later in the story, though the substance is the same. Similarly, while his relationship with Cersei is indeed changed when he comes back, she does not immediately refuse him.

Image: HBO

Meanwhile, Joffrey continues to be completely insufferable, waxing arrogant about everything "he" did to win the war. As he leafs through the history of the Kingsguard, he takes particular note of a knight called Duncan the Tall, who earned four pages in the book. Naturally, he also takes this opportunity to taunt his secret dad Jaime about how few accomplishments are on his page, and how a 40-year-old swordsman without a hand is unlikely to achieve anything more. Considering how arrogant Jaime was when we met him, kinda makes you wonder what he was like as a teenager.

In the books: Although Joffrey is quick to claim credit for all victories, this particular scene didn't take place; instead, Jaime looks through the White Book of the Kingsguard alone later in the book and ponders his own inadequacies. Also, Duncan the Tall is a reference to the main character of George R. R. Martin's "Dunk and Egg" short stories, which followed Duncan the Tall and Aegon V Targayren on their youthful adventures.

Tyrion waits on the road to Kings Landing to welcome Doran Martell, the Prince of Dorne, to the royal wedding, but soon learns that his brother Oberyn (aka the Red Viper) has been sent his stead. Oberyn got to town early, however, and headed straight to the local brothel for vigorous bisexual adventures with his lover, Ellaria Sand. Their revels are interrupted by Lannister soldiers elsewhere in the brothel singing the we'll-kill-you-all Lannister song "The Rains of Castamere" because for some reason they've decided to croon incredibly sad murder songs to their prostitutes? Tyrion arrives just in time to see him stab one of them in the hand with a knife, and asks him why he's really in Kings Landing. Turns out his sister Elia was married to Prince Rhaegar (who started Robert's Rebellion by absconding with Ned's sister, Lyanna) and when the Lannisters took King's Landing, the Mountain murdered both her children and raped and killed her. Dorne, like the North, remembers. "The Lannisters aren't the only ones who pay their debts," promises Oberyn.

In the books: Oberyn arrives with the retinue, not early, and Tyrion's reaction is immediate: "This will mean blood in the gutters." Oberyn is rumored as bisexual and tells Tyrion of wanting to share a "beautiful blonde woman" with Ellaria, but we don't witness the shenanigans and there are no brothel confrontations with Lannister soldiers.

Brienne tries to get Jaime to honor his promise to free Catelyn's daughter, but he points out that the promise is kind of moot: not only is Arya in parts unknown, but Sansa no longer has any mother to send her back to. Mrs. Tyrion is still pretty sad-face emoticon about the Red Wedding, including the gruesome details about her mother and brother's deaths as well as basically her entire life. Tyrion tries to comfort her, but how do you even do that? At least one person finds a way to be kind, however: Dontos, the one-time knight Sansa saved from Joffrey's wrath in Season 2. He gives her a beautiful blue necklace that he says has been in his family for years, which she promises to wear. Hmm, maybe this is important? Also, Tyrion keeps refusing Shae's sexual advances, largely because his father threatened to kill the next prostitute he sleeps with. She pitches a fit that gets overheard by one of Cersei's informants, which bodes very poorly for Shae.

In the books: Sansa is shielded from the details of the Red Wedding—or at least Tyrion thinks so—and Dontos doesn't give her a necklace, but rather a silver hair net with amethysts. Tyrion never outright refuses Shae, though he does consider sending her away to a safer place or even arranging a proper marriage for her.

Speaking of necklaces, Lady Olenna and Margaery are picking out her jewelry for the wedding when Brienne approaches them. (Brienne, remember, served as a member of Renly's Rainbow Guard while Margaery was married to him.) Lady Olenna says she's heard tales of Brienne, who starts readying herself for the usual insult, when Olenna surprises her by calling her "marvelous, absolutely singular." Brienne and Margaery take a walk where Brienne explains the truth behind Renly's death, and swears to avenge "their" king. As they walk past a totally hilarious golden statute of Joffrey, Margaery kindly reminds her that Joffrey is their king now, which isn't so much a criticism as a reminder of how to survive.

In the books: Olenna, Margaery and Brienne don't get their own chapters in Storm of Swords, so we never see things from their perspective and they have no conversations among themselves.

Image: HBO

The Wildlings: As the wildlings wait for reinforcements, Ygritte angrily makes arrows in preparation for the coming battle. When she mentions Jon Snow in the present tense, Tormund Giantsbane calls her out—after all, if she really shot him three times as she claims and he isn't dead, "it's because you let him go." Yup. Soon those reinforcements arrive in the form of the Thenns, a clan of facially scarred cannibals so freaky that they even unnerve even Tormund, especially when their leader Styr decides to have an impromptu barbeque of crow meat (and not the kind that comes from a bird).

In the books: After Jon leaves the wildlings we don't get any more insight into their preparations for battle, but Styr and the Thenns didn't join the wildling army later; a hundred of them actually crossed the Wall along with Jon and Ygritte. Instead of cannibals, the Thenns were actually thought to be slightly more civilized than other free folk, with the sort of codified laws that most wildlings didn't have.

Jon: After healing from his arrow wounds, Jon is questioned about killing Qhorin Halfhand and breaking his vows—crimes punishable by death, if they don't believe he did it on orders from Qhorin. Janos Slynt (the Night's Watch commander Tyrion sent to the Wall in Season 2) and Alliser Thorne (Jon's sadistic instructor from Season 1) both want to see him go down, but he's finally absolved of his transgressions by Maester Aemon. Jon's also still coping with Robb's death, noting that he was jealous of Robb his whole life, and wanted to hate him but couldn't. Lot of good being the handsome prince did him in the end, though. Sam smartly observes that he's always felt that way about Jon, making him the Jon to Jon's Robb. It's a smart comparison, but one that makes me a bit worried for Jon.

In the books: When Jon returns, Maester Aemon believes his account of events and he is accepted back into the Night's Watch. Janos Slynt and Alliser Thorne do ultimately charge him with breaking his vows, though this takes place later under very different circumstances.

Arya: The Hound and Arya continue their journey, and he laughs when she asks for her own horse since it would give the most valuable thing he has the ability to leave him. Although really, neither of them have much left except each other. They happen upon a tavern where Arya spies a familiar face: Polliver, the man who killed her friend Lommy (and dozens and dozens of other people) at Harrenhal. And he's got the sword Jon had made for her, Needle, right there on his belt. Shiiiiit. She heads for the tavern and the Hound is forced to follow and soon they find the Mountain's men who are busy with their drinking and ambient raping.

They don't recognize her, but they do know the Hound—he's the brother of their commander, after all. Now that the War is over and the Lannisters can do whatever, they want invite him along for a bit of raping and pillaging—it's the Joffrey way, after all. Somewhere in all the talk abut the king he betrayed and the brother he hates, the Hound loses it and says "fuck the king" (which I'm guessing is the medieval version of "fuck the police") and it's on. Although he kills most of them, Arya gets in on the action too, and takes out Polliver herself, while repeating the words he said before he killed Lommy. And boy does she enjoy it. Not only does she get to cross another name off her list, but she finally gets a horse! It's everything I wanted as a little girl, except with murder.

In the books: They do end up at a tavern with the Mountain's men, although the Hound is the first one to enter, while Arya is reluctant.The attempted rape of the woman in the tavern also seems to echo an earlier rape by the Mountain. During the fray, Arya kills the Tickler (who died on the show at the hands of Jaqen H'ghar at Harrenhal) and a loudmouthed squire, while the Hound kills Polliver. Honestly, the TV version is way cooler.

Image: HBO

If you didn't know what Game of Thrones was before, you know it now: the death of the fairy tale.

When the show first began, it seemed obvious what were watching: the story about the honorable knight who saves the kingdom. The death of Ned Stark shocked us by subverting all our expectations not just about this story but about this type of story. Ned was the hero, and the hero can't die. When he did, we resolved our mental dissonance by immediately defaulting to the next most obvious trope: the one about Robb, the handsome prince destined to avenge his father (and have his own fairy tale romance, to boot).

That didn't turn out the way we expected either. The Red Wedding wasn't just a betrayal of the Starks, but a betrayal of the story we thought we were hearing. In its fourth season, Game of Thrones has become about what happens when the fairy tale ends, or rather when we finally realize that it was never really that story at all.

Although their numbers are dwindling, it's easier than ever to identify with the Stark children. After all, they got the same raw deal we did. When Ned taught them the story of the world he taught them about chivalry and honor, rather than power and blood. In a sense, he taught them a fairy tale about how the world was supposed to be rather than the way it actually is, and just like us, they believed it. Sansa believed it when she betrayed her father's plans to Cersei so she could marry her golden prince Joffrey; Robb believed it when he married his one true love Talisa and executed one of his most important allies because it was the "right thing to do." The tragedies of Sansa and Robb are really about how things would turn out if you really tried to live your life according to fairy tale logic: very, very badly.

We may have grown up on the sanitized Disney versions, but the Grimm fairy tales were often as brutal (and instructive about the brutality of the world) as Game of Thrones. Perhaps it's better to think of this show as that sort of fairy tale instead—the kind where Sleeping Beauty got raped and the Little Mermaid died in the end. Maybe if he really wanted them to survive, Ned should have read those to his children instead.

TL; DR: The emoji recap for Episode 1 of Season 4.TL; DR: The emoji recap for Episode 1 of Season 4.

But the idyllic Stark family portrait isn't the only thing that's been shattered beyond repair. When we return to Westeros for Season 4, we find characters who seem very different than the ones we met several years ago. It hasn't been a pleasant journey for anyone, and most of the people we meet are worn, broken and changed versions of their former selves.

Not only has Arya turned into a stone-cold killer, but the little fire lizards that used to flit around Daenerys have become terrifying monsters that occasionally frighten even their mother. All Jon ever wanted to be an honorable man, and so of course he ended literally getting ordered to betray his men and join the enemy, then turn around and betray those people too. (It's hard to imagine a worse profession for a Stark than double agent, and yet here he is.)

The victors bear their share of battle damage too. Jaime and Cersei had their own version of the fairy tale love story, even if it was a twisted one: He was the handsome, arrogant swordsman and she was the beautiful queen, and they were in love. Now there's a bit of rust on the armor; the beautiful queen is queen no more, but a bitter, resentful figurehead about to be surpassed by a younger beauty. The handsome swordsman, meanwhile, has come back both mutilated and—as we are repeatedly reminded—on the wrong side of 40.

Image: HBO

"You took too long," says Cersei as she pushes Jaime away. As Tyrion well knows, Cersei isn't a woman with a lot of patience, especially for broken things. In the books, Tyrion talks about a brief moment where his sister is happy with him and how beautiful she seems; he wonders if that's how Jaime sees her all the time. But the part of her that was always petty, paranoid and resentful is somehow even bigger now, and there isn't as much room for Jaime. The Cersei he sees now is a lot closer to the one that Tyrion always had to deal with, and like most things on the show, it's not as pretty as it used to be.

The scene between Margaery and Brienne is another reminder of how much has changed. The last time Brienne saw Margaery, she was the wife of Renly, a man actively trying take the throne from Joffrey, and now she's marrying Joffrey himself. When Margaery tells Brienne that Joffrey is their king now, she isn't expressing love or loyalty; she's talking about survival. When the story changes, you learn to tell a new one or more likely than not, you die telling the old ones.

Whether or not you can keep watching (or enjoying) Game of Thrones depends entirely on your ability to do the same. Many people thought this was supposed to be Robb's story, and Ned's before that. So whose story is it now? It's nobody's, and that's kind of the point. While plenty of people walk around believing that the story of the world is about them, it isn't, of course. There are no main characters in Game of Thrones just like there are no main characters in life. People succeed or fail based on how strong, smart and lucky they are, but no one is saved or protected by the cloak of the protagonist because there's no such thing.

Although the journey has been heartbreaking, Game of Thrones has finally arrived at a place that is far more exciting than the one where it started out: a world where no one is safe, where nothing is sacred, and where what's "supposed" to happen has very little bearing on what actually does. It's a fantasy story, yes, but one with a relentlessly realistic view of human nature that frees it from some many of the tired tropes of fantasy. It might ask you to believe in dragons, but it'll never ask you to believe that the good guys always win.

So what does Game of Thrones have left now that the fairy tale is dead? Something different and far more interesting, if we have the stomach for it.