“The Spoils Of War” continues accurately where we left off, directly after Lady Olenna somehow managed to die winning. Jaime is in a tainted mood, carrying schooled of a law behind Joffrey’s poisoning, and Bronn’s ardour for cache is growing. But Jaime wisely reminds Bronn that a some-more a male has, a some-more can be taken from him. Jaime used to be a spoilt brat, a male of high standing and magisterial ego, though he’s watched his family fall underneath a weight of their gold. Wealth and standing no longer meant a thing to him.
It is Cersei who wishes to see Westeros dejected underneath a foot of a Lannisters; she is a carcenogenic growth plated in gold, and a Iron Bank is some-more than happy to align themselves with her. She pays her debts, after all, even if she had to mangle a piggy bank (and a few skulls), to do it. But all that matters is that a many absolute financial establishment in a star is on her side. While Daenerys has 3 oversized dragons fighting tooth and spike for her, Cersei has a money-lenders. It’s no competition, on a surface, anyway. Never gamble opposite a house.
Up North, in Winterfell, there’s a family gathering. we never suspicion we’d see this impulse – a Stark children finally reunited. It’s adequate to make me emotional. But this is distant from a teary sitcom reunion; Sansa, Arya, and Bran are physically reunited, though mentally, they’re serve detached than ever. All 3 children have perpetually mislaid their ignorance in 3 unequivocally opposite ways.
Sansa’s hardships have encased in her a tough shell; she is (rightly) always suspicious, cynical, and gallant to pronounce her mind. She has been forced to see a star as it unequivocally is, though she laughs during a thought of her small hoyden sister being an assassin. And to be fair, a thought is kind of stupid. It’d be like your small stoner hermit returning from university with a pursuit offer from NASA. Sansa and Arya never had most in common, though now, they live wholly opposite worlds. Bran, on a other hand, inhabits a whole other universe. He is no longer a character, though a source of information, like Google with a face.
His prosaic goodbye with dedicated messenger Meera pronounced it all. As gratifying as it was to see him cut by Littlefinger’s nonsense with a singular sentence, Bran’s newfound rule came with a complicated price. He has mislaid all tie to humanity. And it creates sense. If we unexpected had entrance to a past, present, and future, there would be no some-more you. His ego has melted away; all a people in Westeros are merely cogs in a gargantuan appurtenance that nobody else can see.
So when he hands a fatal Valyrian steel dagger to Arya, it’s not since he wants to, though since she is meant to have it. Bran understands that he is no longer a impression held in a upsurge of a narrative, though partial of a account itself.
At slightest Arya finally has a small-yet-deadly arms to enrich her murdering abilities, and a invulnerability opposite a White Walkers. Now she only needs to give it a name improved than “Needle.”