By Alexander Hughes

WARNING: This post is dark and full of spoilers.

We open on our now familiar new “sun-dial” and the gaping hole in the Wall. Ice-white and blue tiles firmly pave the way to and around Last Hearth, where we heard poor little Ned Umber’s memorable last screech, then marching inexorably onwards like our story, towards Winterfell. The site of our heroes’ breast milk stories, battle tales and cherry poppings is now resplendent with a ring of fire and dragonglass embedded stakes, sure to stop the horde of wights bearing down on the lonesome castle. Our camera journey takes us through the castle and down to the crypts, where the lights go out one by one. This is surely not an ominous sign – after all, the women and children will be safe in the crypts and the little girl with the burnt face (hereafter referred to as “Shireen 2.0” or “Fry Hard 2: Fry Harder”) is heroically guarding the vulnerable peoples.

Now on to King’s Landing, untouched and unseen last episode and the opening reinforces that premise – of course many fans are theorising that the Night King is skipping the showdown at Winterfell and trying to cut Euron’s grass by getting in with Cersei and her one million loyal(ish) citizens of the capital city of Westeros. Interestingly, the final path through this construction is making its way towards the Iron Throne, foreshadowing some slow-paced dramatic showdown in the throne room, as if we needed anymore indication that this is where the final deciding moments of who ascends the Iron Throne will be borne out.

---

Now on to the real business of the episode and the show we have all been waiting for, the title-fight of title-fights, the Superbowl of Death, the Olympics of gasping, slashing, hacking and stabbing, the Battle of Winterfell. In the red corner, weighing approximately as much as a horde of Dothraki, an army of Unsullied, a rag tag group of brave Westerosi fighters and their families, two dragons, a Hound and a Dwarf – the Living! In the blue, very blue corner, coming in at an innumerable horde of dead bodies, several White Walkers and one undead Super-Dragon – the Dead! If you needed anymore hints that this is it, the camera opens on the shaking hands of Samwell Tarly, with the clatter and batter of soldiers moving all around him when a man with a hair-style eerily reminiscent of Ned Stark’s famous Season 1 do thrusts some dragonglass weapons into his hands and tells him to move. Now following Sam, we see Unsullied marching to their posts, men grabbing weapons and another thick slice of “Head down to the Crypts!” The camera shifts to two people of the same height and love in fan’s hearts – Lyanna Mormont and Tyrion Lannister, Lyanna yelling and encouraging her people into position, Tyrion standing brooding before striding off. The wonderful, constant deep string sounding in the background lends a brilliant sense of tension and urgency to the characters movements and the setting as a whole.

Tyrion grabs some all-important supplies (read: wine) as Bran is wheeled past with Alys Karstark, Theon and the Iron Islanders in tow. Panning up to the walls of the seat of the Starks, we are blessed with several camera cuts of ruggedly bearded defenders nervously gripping bows and staring into the black night. Whilst All Men Must Die and All Men Must Serve, this episode it is All Characters Must Get a Grimacing Camera Shot (Valar Keanu Reevis?) The Onion Knight, Ser Davos, carries arrows to the wall and mans his post and through a crenellation we spy the Stark Sisters. The now familiar roar of dragons sounds overhead and for a brief moment as we see Drogon and Rhaegal fly over the serried ranks of Unsullied, Dothraki, Westerosi and siege weapons we are given a glimmering of hope, a feeling of “they got this.” After a brief moment of dolour from Dolorous Edd Tollett and a glance at Jorah Mormont’s magnificent granite grimace, we get a simply wondterful shot of Jon and Dany standing on a cliffside staring down at their arrayed forces in perfect formation and the complete ink black darkness they are facing. This is a great visual metaphor for the battle the assembled living are about to face – it is not just another simple “bad guy” like Orcs or Uruk-Hai or even the Wildlings in Season 4 or Stannis Baratheon in Season 2, but it is Death itself, a force of nature made manifest, come to extinguish not just the world of man but the flame of life itself.

Then, out of the darkness, a single horseman appears, cloaked in shadow and trotting almost leisurely towards the soldiers. Is this the Night King, riding his steed once more to send the wave of undead hurtling towards our assembled heroes? No, instead, as Davos’ shocked face reveals as he realizes who it is, we see it is the Red Woman, Melisandre, come to fulfil her prophecy that she would return to Westeros and die here. A brief exchange with Ser Jorah and commanding the Dothraki to raise their Arakhs gives us the awesome moment of seeing a horde of Dothraki suddenly sprout flaming Berri Dondarrion weapons. Once more we are hit with the sense of “they got this” and the badass music to go with it. Also Ghost is there, just chilling besides Ser Jorah. What a good dog. As Melisandre enters the Keep, Davos hurries towards her, only for her to reassure him that she will “…be dead before the dawn.”

The music picks up again, the Dothraki begin their war cries and Ser Jorah is brandishing the Tarly heirloom Valyrian Steel sword, Heartsbane like the badass we know he is. The thunder of the hooves and the bright streaks of the Dothraki swords storm towards the encroaching darkness, a flaming arrow streaking towards the heart of death. Unsullied send blazing stones hurtling overhead, Ghost is growling and for the last time, the show draws our hopeful, naïve minds into thinking “they got this.” Then, as the blazing boulders crash to earth, we get the briefest glimpse of the horde surging at the Dothraki and moments later each one of us was that Dothraki who stared up into the figure of an undead giant and thought “oh fuck.” The music cuts out, only a brief single string being pulled as we watch as the fire of the Dothraki goes out, first from above with Jon and Dany and then from the ground with Jaime and Brienne. We have no idea if the heroic, fiery charge had any impact on the dead at all, all we know is the Dothraki are gone, with only a few lone survivors running, not riding, back through the lines and the bloodied figure of Ser Jorah with them. Our heroes share a collective “we are fucked” glance to the person next to them before bracing themselves for what is to come next, whilst Dany mounts Drogon.

The music starts to build, this time a rising eerie note, behind which the gnashing sounds of the approaching horde can be heard. We can feel the ground shaking, the hands trembling, the prayers whispered, the pants shitting. Then out of the darkness, they appear, not a running line of wights as we saw at Hardhomme or at the Battle Beyond the Wall, but as a crushing wave of death, thrashing undead bodies literally piled atop one another hurtling their way towards a force that now seems totally under-prepared and undermanned. This, and the totally ineffectiveness of the Dothraki charge is where we first see how the Battle of Winterfell is going to be a different and more desperate affair than battles we have seen before. The impact of the dead against the living is overwhelming and we are plunged into a dark and bloody chaos and the music cuts to give us the full, raw sensation of combat. The maelstrom of death is at various points punctuated by our heroes on the field cutting down dead men and expendable soldiers being torn apart by ravenous dead. Early on we think we are about to see our first major character death as Brienne is pulled down by a pack of wights, before being rescued by her man-crush Jaime and the night is lit up into glorious, flaming magnificence as Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Lady of Dragonstone, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, Breaker of Chains and most importantly, the Mother of Dragons sets a vast swathe of wights alight with Drogon’s fiery breath. The music is back, this time the badass tune associated with Dany bringing dragon-type destruction as she and Drogon make multiple passes at the undead horde with Jon and Rhaegal following suit.

The two dragon riders spot their target, the White Walkers, standing at the edge of a forest behind the main battle lines. Swooping in for the kill, the pair are just about the unleash a hell-storm of dragonfire upon what is presumably a family gathering of Craster’s sons when out from the forest a wall of winter blasts them into a dark blizzard. We get an amazingly cinematic shot of Drogon bathing the field in fire in front of a rolling ice cloud, then, as the winds of winter fall upon the battle, Arya tells Sansa to get down to the crypts, hands her a dragonglass dagger and tells her sister to “Stick them with the pointy end.”

The storm rolls over heroes on the ground, the blaring of the brass background music increasing in intensity the closer the clouds come. The music goes quiet as our soundtrack now becomes the snarling of the wights throwing themselves bodily at everyone in sight, a terrifying image to behold for the viewer and for the characters on the ground. For most of them, this is not fighting as they know it or even as we as viewers know it – man to man, weapon to weapon, who is the better fighter. This is an enemy that knows no compulsion except to kill, to rip, to bite, to tear the living apart without a consideration for their own survival or the survival of their “comrades”. You cannot break this army’s morale as you can that of one of men, or other creatures from fantasy legend such as Orcs or Uruk-Hai, all you can do is survive, which is what our heroes are desperately struggling to do. One by one they are jumped on, the Hound roaring his frustration as he cuts down another member of the seemingly innumerable horde that is barrelling down on him. Edd goes down, and then so to does Sam and just as a wight is about to plunge its blade into Sam’s sweating face, Edd is there once again to rescue his brother in black. As Sam is pulled from the ground by Edd, we are given just a moment on Edd’s terrified face before blood spurts horrifically from his mouth as he is killed by a wight, and Sam the Slayer runs from the dead man who killed his friend.

We then cut to the crypts as Sansa joins the other women, children and half-men, before swiftly returning to the now completely blinding snow storm in which Jon finds himself. Evidently dragons are no better at seeing in this snowy hell than humans are as Rhaegal crashes through several trees before crashing into Drogon and Dany. As the pair look down on the endless tide of dead rushing towards their friends, Tormund and the other commanders call for a retreat into the castle proper. All run back through the gates into Winterfell except for Grey Worm and the fearless Unsullied, who stand their ground to cover the retreat. Not even these dragonglass equipped super soldiers are enough to stem the tide of death, as the camera zooms out to show once more the ghastly, infinite hoard of dead men sprinting towards Winterfell.

Grey Worm gets back across the trench, and as he calls for the signal to light it, he stares at his fellow Unsullied for a few pained moments, knowing he is about to sacrifice his brothers in arms he has grown up with, trained with, suffered with, before he collapses the only path across the barrier. Ser Davos desperately tries to signal Daenerys but she cannot see his torches waving through the Night King’s conjured storm. Not even flaming arrows from the archers on the wall can stay alight long enough to ignite the barrier, and the brave souls who run towards the trench with torches are swiftly taken out by what must be a specialised team of undead linebackers, displaying tackling skills most NFL teams would be jealous of. Moments before however, as Grey Worm standings heaving in the gateway, who else is standing there but once again the Red Woman, and after all else fails an honour guard of Unsullied escort her to the trench. As she kneels, praying in High Valyrian over and over, nothing happens, until finally, as a wight is about to leap the barrier and finally avenge Shireen’s non-consensual audition for the role of Joan of Arc, the wood alights and rings Winterfell in a glorious orange glow. As the Hound stares terrified at the wall of fire, on the other side a starscape of glowing blue eyes stare back, halted momentarily by the magic of the Lord of Light.

We take a break from the brilliant cinematic action for some witty banter between Tyrion and Varys in the crypts, with Tyrion insisting he could be useful if he were on the walls, whilst Sansa reminds him that he would be less than useless up there and that the best way for him to be brave is to look the truth in the face and accept it. A great little bit of reminiscing about their marriage, with Sansa even telling Tyrion “you were the best of them”, not that there is much competition in that regard, is quickly brought back to earth with Sansa telling Tyrion it could never work because of his divided loyalties to Daenerys and Missandei angrily storming off after remarking they would all be dead if not for the dragon queen. The show furthers this break in the action with a beautiful little scene in the Godswood as Theon apologises to Bran about his past actions whilst Bran forgives him, saying all his actions have “…brought you where you are now, where you belong, home” before he wargs into some ravens and making just an overall great contribution to the battle!

Through the ravens we get our first look at the Night King riding zombie Viserion above the battle, menacing music backing the flaps of dead wings and frosty stares, before the Night King reaches his hand out to unleash some new horror. The music fades out, and we get a close up of the trench line and the wall of wights, before a solitary wight walks forward into the fire and lays down. Then another does the same, and then another, and another, and as Davos stares down from the wall he realises with horror what the Night King is doing and yells for the soldiers to man the walls. As soldiers and our heroes run to the wall we see the undead form bridges of their own bodies across the flames before pouring into the space beyond the fire and creating ramps of wights to start clambering to the top. This highlights two things – firstly how many bodies the Night King has to spare that he can use them as siege structures; and secondly another reminder of how unlike any other foe we have ever seen before the army of the dead is, where there is no individual soldier, just a mass of components of the Night King’s will.

As our heroes run to the walls and the dead pile up below, Jon spies the Night King in the air and follows him with Rhaegal into the clouds. The dead being to climb, taking losses with every foot gained but without slowing down a beat. As the first few dead skulls are smashed as the crest the wall, it seems that finally the heroes are in a defensible position to be able to stay the rising tide of undead soldiers. However, quickly we are shown the error of our ways as the wights tactic of bodily flinging themselves at the living proves effective once again, as though the individual wight might die in the attempt, the time and space it buys for more wights to ascend the wall is enough to open a flood of dead atop Winterfell’s walls. Shots outside the walls of the castle again give us a reminder of the sheer numbers pressing in on the heroes, and the impossibility of survival. Whilst we get a few cool moments like Brienne saving Jaime before he then saves her, Ser Jorah rescuing Sam with the sword Sam gave him, eventually the camera shows us that the wights have begun ignoring the living on the walls and are crashing down into the courtyard to begin the slaughter there.

We are treated to several horrifying shots of large numbers of wights jumping down from Winterfell’s walls into the castle’s interior, interspersed with killing shots of wights and living defenders, whilst the Hound, frozen in shock at the fire and the immense number of dead, hides behind a wall. However, Arya is still fighting atop the walls and we get to see the weapon Gendry forged her in action for the first time – a version of the staff she used whilst training with the Faceless men, equipped with a dragonglass tip and able to split in half. The Hound stays rooted to the spot, despite Beric’s repeated pleas for help, and the gates of Winterfell are shattered by a giant once more who quickly bitch slaps Lyanna Mormont seemingly out of existence. Beric finally breaks through to the Hound, activating his protective papa bear mode when Beric points out a terrified Arya running from multiple Wights.

The award for most badass death gets swept up early by Lyanna Mormont, as she picks herself up after being demolished by a clap back from an undead giant and charges towards him screaming. He picks her up and begins to squeeze her like a tube of toothpaste that refuses to give up its last remnants of minty goodness before she screams again and plunges a dragonglass dagger into his eye, felling the giant as she falls out of his grasp next to his crumbling corpse.

Now Dany and Jon are in hot pursuit of Viserion and the Night King, following him upwards through thick snowy winds only to burst through the cloud coverage to find him gone. After a brief moment of peace the clouds are split apart by the bright blue flames of the undead Viserion’s breath, knocking Rhaegal and Jon out of the way before chasing Dany and Drogon high into the sky. The flames of her former child licking at her heels, Dany is desperately clinging onto Drogon’s back until finally the Night King and Viserion disappear once more beneath their magical veil. A shared glance of acknowledgement between Jon and Dany shows they realise that they have to work together to defeat the Night King/Viserion combo or both of their dragons will become servants to the Night King.

The music stops once more as Arya is creeping through the interior of Winterfell, clattering sounds nearby as undead wights roam the halls. As Arya enters the library, we are treated to an intricate game of cat and mouse, or more exactly, undead cats and one tiny mouse. Arya’s stealth skills learned from the Faceless Men are on full display as she artfully dodges several wights, even after the dripping of her own blood draws them near. Rounding a corner to escape, she runs head on into a wight and without skipping a beat plunges her dragonglass dagger through its head before silently exiting the building.

Arya’s relief is to be short-lived, as immediately after closing the door behind her the sounds of ravenous wights pursuing her is heard, and another door into her shelter bursts open behind the combined weight of a multitude of undead. Desperately fleeing through the halls she used to run through to escape the scoldings of Septa Mordane, the flood of wights behind Arya draws ever closer before we cut away, leaving Arya’s fate (temporarily) unknown.

Back down in the crypts, witty banter is in an all time low state of supply as those seeking shelter there can hear the sounds of wights tearing apart their friends and loved ones. Pounding is heard at the door to the crypts as those above desperately seek shelter from the undead storm, but one by one they fall silent. Sansa’s look of terror towards the hallway is all of us at this moment as we are being pushed closer to the truth that we didn’t want to accept coming into this episode: everyone is fucked.

Beric and the Hound (new folk band name?) patrol the halls looking for Arya, flaming sword lighting the way. It’s important to note that the Hound is not being particularly wary of Beric’s sword anymore – his concern for Arya has not only conquered his fear of the undead but now apparently his fear of fire too. Suddenly a door nearby bursts open and a wight falls through on top of Arya who screams for help. Beric whips his trusty sword at the wight and the Hound sets to work with his dragonglass axe hacking apart dead men. Hauling Arya through the halls, the Hound and Beric (Beric and the Hound sounds better for a band name I reckon) keep Arya away from the ravenous horde, Beric taking multiple stab wounds for his troubles and eventually adopts the wights’ own tactic of just throwing his body at them, buying time for the Hound to get Arya to safety. With more knife wounds than Julius Caesar, Beric somehow makes it into a safe room with Arya and the Hound before finally succumbing to his injuries, a fitting end for the long suffering Lord of Blackhaven and chosen of the Lord of Light.

Speaking of which, no sooner has Dondarrion’s life left his eyes then the voice of Melisandre sounds from behind Arya and the Hound, reminding them that the Lord of Light brought Beric back for a purpose which he has now fulfilled. Arya remembers the Red Woman from when she took Gendry from the Brotherhood without Banners (and maybe from Gendry’s recounted sexual history from the night before), and Melisandre reminds us all of two great lines from past seasons. Arya tells her that she was right about Arya shutting many eyes forever, then Melisandre finishes recounting her mini-prophecy in full, “Brown Eyes, Green Eyes. And Blue Eyes.” Ho-ly-SHIT! Arya looks up, terror fading from her eyes as she suddenly understands her purpose. Then comes one of the greatest lines to be uttered on this show and in history, “What do we say to the God of Death? Not today.” RIP Syrio.

Back to the Godswood, the figures of wights running through the trees around Theon and his Iron Islanders, then bursting out of cover into a hail of arrows from the Greyjoy band. Then it’s back to the skies with the Night King and Viserion, blue flames blasting down an entire section of the Winterfell wall before Jon and Rhaegal dive bomb them and begin our first look at dragon on dragon combat. Both dragons rip at each others’ scales, but Rhaegal doles out more damage as Viserion is way more focused on trying to snap a bit of Jon Snow whilst Rhaegal rips half of Viserion’s jaw clean off. The Night King has his ice spear poised and ready to make another bid for the Westerosi Olympic javelin squad but before he can launch out of the sky descends Drogon and Daenerys, throwing the Night King from Viserion’s back and continuing to rip away at the undead dragon.

Rhaegal falls to the ground, evidently feeling the effects of his wounds and Jon rolls off his back before being crushed beneath the dragon’s weight. Hovering above the ground, Dany and Drogon spy the Night King getting up from his fall – this is it, they have him exactly where they want him. Dany sneers down at the Face of Death and spits out her word of command, “Dracarys!” The Night King is engulfed in a ball of dragonfire, a stream of fiery death pouring from a beast that is fire made flesh. The music plays the now familiar dragonfire rapid-string downscale (musical terminology is not my forte) and Jon stumbles towards the fire. The music changes, the fire breathing stops, the flames begin to die down and standing there, smirk on his face, looking up at Dany, is the Night King, untouched and unfazed by his baptism of fire. The evil brass music is blaring in full force again, the ice spear is raised, Dany turns away and Drogon barely dodges the latest attempt by the Night King at taking down a dragon.

Confident and cocky, the Night King strides forward to Winterfell. Jon draws Longclaw and hurries after him. The Night King turns and sees the true heir to the Iron Throne pursuing him and he stops in place, Jon seemingly rooted to the spot as well. The Night King faces his palms towards Jon and begins the familiar gesture of raising his arms. A collective “oh fuck” was heard around the world and in Westeros at this point, as we all know what is now coming. Jon starts running towards the Night King as all around him and within the castle itself, his fallen former comrades, Dothrakis, Unsullied and Westerosi all, begin to stir. Eyelids flick open, blue eyes staring out from underneath helmets and hoods, corpses of brave men rolling over and picking themselves up. Jon is forced to stop only a few feet away from the Night King, his latest batch of wights simply standing and staring at Jon, cold dead eyes accusingly glaring at him and his failure.

Inside the walls, the heroes seem to have finally put their last wight down as a brief second of rest in enjoyed by Jaime, Brienne, Tormund, Podrick, Grey Worm, Sam, Gendry and a few scattered unnamed indivudals before Jaime’s face becomes a mask of horror as all around him, more dead bodies begin to rise. Lyanna Mormont: wight. Dolorous Edd: wight. Jon Snow: absolutely fucked. The Night King turns and walks away from Jon as his new horde slowly closes in on the lone swordsman. Through the gate of Winterfell, out of the snow and smoke, accompanied by some of the most menacing music I have ever heard, emerges the White Walkers.

Oh look, we are back in the crypts that everyone insists are super safe for all the women and children. Nothing bad will happen now that the Night King has just unleashed a wave of corpse raising energy right? Nope. In perhaps one of the most forecast Game of Thrones twists ever, corpses of dead Starks begin punching their way out of their tombs and massacring women and children. And you thought Ramsay Bolton was bad. Sansa ignores Arya’s express command to stick them with the pointy end and flees to the back of the tomb with Tyrion.

Back to the Godswood once more and Theon and his Iron Islanders are kicking some serious wight ass. Sheer numbers begin to tell however as one by one the Islanders are taken down by the wights. Jon is outside the walls, completely surrounded and desperately hacking about himself to clear some space from the new wights. Just before a large group can grab him from behind they are slammed to the ground by a ferocious fireball from Drogon and Daenerys. Jon yells “Bran” and Dany, instantly understanding yells back for him to go as she lands Drogon on the ground. Poor choice Dany, as wights begin to climb up Drogon’s limbs and tail, stabbing away at the mighty dragon, and a few even try their hand at taking out Dany. Daenerys falls off as Drogon writhes and screeches in pain, eventually taking off, shaking dead men from his body with every wing-beat.

The dead begin to plummet around Dany, necks snapping up and finding her alone on the ground, being to hurtle towards her. Before they can reach her, out of the darkness emerges who else but her loyal Ser Jorah, wielding the blade of the family Dany ordered put to death and saving her life over and over. The music changes to a more desperate, almost chasing beat and we switch to Jon hurrying through Winterfell as corpses rain down around him as well, through roofs and off of walls. Jon only stops to kill a wight that threatens to stop his progress – he walks past Gendry and Tormund surrounded by a boiling hill of undead wights, past his best friend Samwell Tarly lying on the ground stabbing around himself in desperation even as he is jumped on by more wights, past Grey Worm and Brienne and Jaime and Podrick and countless other soldiers fighting their own mini hordes. A pounding, rhythmic drum sets the tempo, reminding one of a heartbeat and serving as a metaphor for Jon’s, or perhaps Bran’s, still beating heart.

Theon has run out of arrows and allies in the Godswood, now picking up a dragonglass tipped spear and cutting down wights like so much chaff. Bran continues his eyes-rolled-up viewing of Planet Earth, whilst Dany picks up her own dragonglass sword to help Jorah fend off the wights. The music reaches a crescendo before cutting out as we are transported back to the crypts and to the sound of great-grandpa Stark making a snack out of some helpless women and children. Tyrion and Sansa share a tender moment behind a statue, holding hands whilst both pulling out dragonglass daggers. This I think could be a moment that resonates through the next two episodes: has Tyrion fallen in love with Sansa? Is his loyalty to the Dragon Queen being challenged by this beauty from the North? Tyrion kisses Sansa’s hand before taking a breath and heading out from behind the tomb.

The sounds of combat are now faded into the background as we see Jon emerge into a courtyard, the dominant sound now a piano occasionally punctuated by the undead screeches of Viserion who crashes onto a wall and bathes the yard in blue fire. Jaime, Brienne, Podrick, Gendry, Tormund, Grey Worm, Jorah and Dany all fight valiantly against the unstoppable horde of wights as the piano settles into a solemn version of a somewhat familiar tune. Jon runs to escape from a new group of wights bursting through a gate back into Viserion’s courtyard, ducking his way behind a column to escape the blue flames. Theon cuts down wight after wight as the Night King and the White Walkers stride into the Godswood. We are treated to slow-mo shots of all our heroes fighting their foes, surviving on sheer desperation and will, whilst Sam is on the ground unable to do anything but weep.

Strings begin to be layered into our piano tune as Theon cuts down his last attacker, barely able to hold himself upright. A ring of still animated wights surround him at a distance, before opening up to let through the Night King and the rest of the Walkers. Bran decides he’s seen enough David Attenborough and his eyes flick back to reality. Theon stares into the face of the Night King, knowing his end is at hand, before Bran comforts him with the words “You’re a good man. Thank you.” Finally hearing the words he’s waited all his life to hear, a tear rolls down Theon’s cheek and he lowers his spear and charges at the Night King, who promptly snaps the spear in half and stabs Theon with half of his own weapon.

Jon desperately tries to run by Viserion but is forced back behind a rock as yet more blue flames roll over his head. The Night King walks towards Bran, leaving Theon to die alone on the ground whilst Jorah takes wound after wound defending his Khaleesi. The strings have built up to dominate the music, as the Night King reaches Bran, who looks up into his cold, piercing blue eyes. Jon picks himself up from behind his cover to just scream at Viserion.

Jon’s painful, frustrated roar at the undead Viserion highlights what makes me love this episode and battle so so much. These heroes, the greatest in all the world, along with some of the cleverest minds and the most powerful magic users, coupled with a pair of dragons, a hoard of Dothraki Screamers, an army of fierce Unsullied and the sight of the Three-Eyed Raven have been barely able to slow, let alone stop, the inexorable march of the undead. They came together in a common cause to face the forces of evil, prepared everything we as fans could think of to stop the hoard and the White Walkers, tipped everything that wasn’t Valyrian Steel in Dragonglass, lit a big ass wall of fire around one of the most impregnable castles in Westeros, cut down swathes of dead men with Dragon fire and it still. wasn’t. enough. Jon has sacrificed everything to get to this point, his dragon is off somewhere, fate unknown. His best friend Sam was lying on the ground helpless and Jon walked by him, as well as the desperate faces of Tormund, Gendry, Jaimie, Brienne and Podrick. He ran past the crypts, knowing his sister and helpless women and children were down there being assaulted by the forces of death, through a rain of animated dead bodies and across a courtyard of blue dragon fire. All this and he still failed, he still could not make that final heroic moment of killing the Night King and saving his brother Bran, of rescuing everyone and being the hero everyone has built him up to be. Jon has accepted his fate, but he still has the blood of Old Valyria and the First Men running through his veins, he will not go quietly into the night, but he will spit in the face of death incarnate and dare it to do its worst.

In those apparent final moments, when it appears all is lost and the world of the living is about to come crashing down in a single icy moment as the Night King reaches for his sword to cut down Bran and our music reaches its crescendo, we see a breath of air pass through one of the assembled White Walkers’ hair, and from behind the Night King appears Arya, leaping through the dark, Valyrian Steel dagger with a dragonbone hilt thrusting towards the God of Death. In a flash the Night King turns and grabs Arya in midair, stopping her in place and ending her bid to kill death. Once more it looks like the Night King is too strong, too smart, too quick, too powerful to defeat as he holds the youngest of Ned Stark’s daughters in his grasp. But in one glorious, epic moment, Brienne of Tarth upholds her oath to Catelyn Stark one more time as the move Arya had to pull off in training against Brienne in the last season is pulled out of the wily Arya’s bag of tricks once more and she drops the dagger from her left hand into her right and plunges it into the Night King.

No-one can kill death, and now, “No-One” has killed Death. The Night King shatters into shards of Ice along with his fellow White Walkers and all across Winterfell the dead drop where they stand, leaving our heroes surrounded by a tide of dead bodies. Jon finishes his shouting match with an undead Dragon and the blue flames flicker out of Viserion’s throat to sputter into nothing as Dany’s lost child finally falls still. Our remaining heroes, and I am including the unnamed soldiers still fighting at this point because God damn it if they have survived this long they are fucking heroes, stare around them in disbelief as the wights fall still and the Great War is over.

Arya turns to face Bran, who’s face is still stuck on Three-Eyed Raven mode, and Ser Jorah collapses to the ground, dying in the arms of the woman he loves while she weeps for him and her dragon settles protectively over them – a finer end than a true knight could ask for. The Hound and Melisandre emerge from the halls of the castle, the Red Woman striding off purposefully. She strides out of the gates of Winterfell as Ser Davos follows her to the gateway, hand on sword. She discards he jeweled throat piece, red light fading from the gem inside. As Ser Davos watches she ages before him, stumbling around as she removes her robe, hair falling out and blowing away in the breeze before she collapses, a wizened figure in the snow, fulfilling her last prophecy, and dying before the dawn.