There’s quite a lot of fear and speculation that Jorah will die in Daznak’s pit. I don’t think that will be the case at all, for several reasons:
1. Jorah is a main character on the show. D&D aren’t going to have him killed off by a one-off, nameless character. That’s just not how it’s done on GoT.
2. He won’t be dragon fodder, either. We’ve already seen how Dany reacts to her dragons taking human life. If Drogon roasts someone she knows and loves? That would be the final nail in the coffin for Dany taking the dragons to conquer Westeros.
3. Dany still needs him. Yes, she’ll have an adviser in Tyrion, but Tyrion isn’t a general. Neither Barristan nor Daario can fulfill that function the way Jorah can and has. (Not to mention Barristan is nowhere to be seen in the Daznak’s Pit pics, and according to Ian McEllhinney’s own Twitter, he’s wrapped his GoT filming.)
I’m putting the word out. Five hundred grand for this clown dead. A million alive, so I can teach him some manners first.
So…the big GoT filming news today reveals major changes in Jorah’s S5 storyline from ADWD, and I have lots thoughts (or maybe mostly FEELS) about it.
The show isn’t known for being family-friendly. So Game of Thrones fans won’t be shocked that stars were filming bloody scenes on Monday.
“You’d trust me with that? After what I did to you?”
“I’ll admit, I was a little let down. But I still think there’s more to you.”
"I think he’s a banker. I don’t know really but that sounds nice.”
After a very long hiatus, Something Worth Having will soon be updated! I’m making some final tweaks to the draft, some fairly extensive, but I aim to post today, tomorrow at the absolute latest. I really appreciate you all bearing with me lately!
Until then, a brief teaser:
The meal passed without incident—no doubt a rare occurrence in the Carlisle household—and the adults lingered at the table, relishing the relative peace of the dining room after the elder three boys, who wolfed down their supper, were excused to play with the Meccano set a little longer before bedtime—though of course their muted voices still carried through the small house, and the babies chattered and banged spoons on the trays of their high chairs.
"This Caledonian Cream is delicious, Mrs Carlisle," remarked Isobel, who had been largely quiet throughout the day—not that the children scarcely allowed the adults to get a word in edgewise. “The perfect summer dessert.”
Aileen thanked her, the usual soft-spoken tone giving way to a sigh as her gaze drifted out the dining room window at the steady drizzle and sodden back garden. “If only we were having perfect summer weather. The paper said we would, or I’d have planned a more seasonable menu.”
"Now that’s yellow journalism if I ever heard it," George said, leaning back in his chair to light up an after-dinner cigarette, smoking not reserved for strictly male company in the Carlisle house. "First order of business when Richie gets back to the office is to sack his weather reporter."
“I’m not sure it was one of Richard’s papers,” said Aileen.
“Uh-oh, Richie…” George waggled his eyebrows. “Your own sister-in-law, fraternizing with the competition.” Oblivious to Richard’s eyeroll, he turned to his wife. “Was it one of Northcliffe’s, love?”
“Honestly, George!” Aileen flushed. “I just glanced at the first one on the stand in the store.”
“If it was the Mail,” Richard said, “standards are slipping quickly. The man’s not been in the ground a week.”
"On the contrary, Mrs Carlisle,” said Isobel a little too loudly, clearly uncomfortable with the reference to the newspaper magnate’s recent death, and the Carlisle brothers’ banter, even though Mary knew it was all in good fun—this time, "cheery foods are most suitable for dreary days." She scooped another bit of marmalade and cream onto her spoon. "Nothing suggests sunshine and warmth like oranges."