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5 Different Ways Game of Thrones could Finally Finally End

July 1, 2016



Winterfell.  A beautiful morning in late summer.  Eddard Stark sits bolt up upright in bed in a cold sweat.  He awakes Catelyn lying beside him, who hugs her husband, puzzled and concerned by the extraordinary look on his face.  They have both slept in.  Outside, Robb, Jon and Theon are practicing archery while Bran and Rickon are playing football.  Sansa is chasing Arya.

“Oh Catelyn” moans Ned.  “I’ve just had the most horrible dream.  And a really really long one.”



The “Make It All Right Fairy” pirouetted atop the Red Keep for several minutes before producing from behind her back, an enormous bag.

“Here Arya!” she sang as Ned’s head jumped out and attached itself to Eddard’s surprisingly well preserved body.  From out of the bag, Catelyn, Robb, and Rickon appeared and Bran leaped to his feet.  Joffrey and Ramsay stayed dead but every nice character emerged from the sack, alive and well.  Cersei and Jamie were sent to stand in (different) corners to think about what they’d done.  The Clegane brothers hugged and forgave each other.

“And for you Theon Greyjoy” exclaimed the fairy with an extra twinkle as she rummaged at the bottom of the sack  “I have something very special indeed!”




Full of years, surrounded by his loving children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, Good King Ramsay Bolton (first of his name) slipped imperceptibly away.  Hardly any of his subjects could remember a time when Westeros had not been blessed by his wisdom and compassion.  Balladeers sang of how he had ridden out from the Wall alone to reconcile humans and white walkers, the living and the dead. Since then, peace and justice have prevailed all the way from the Wall to the Summer Isles.  (Winter wasn’t all that long, after all.)

It was also said that in his extreme youth, Ramsay Bolton had been a bit of a scamp and that he carried the scars to prove it.  Apparently, after one particular naughty prank, he was chained up in Winterfell Castle and set upon by his own dogs (whom he had foolishly neglected to feed).   But after a few bites and scratches the dogs relented and started to lick Ramsay’s wounds.  So moved was Ramsay by the forgiveness of these noble beasts that he started to ponder on the innate goodness of creation and his love for animals developed into a love for humanity as well.

Gods bless you Good King Ramsay.  You will be missed.




Everybody is dead.  And I mean everybody.  The war between the dragons and the White Walker killed them all, the entire human populations of Westeros, Essos and Sothoryos.  The dying breath of the last dragon killed the last White Walker before crashing into the Red Keep (squashing Brienne of Tarth) and exposing the Iron Throne to the bare sky.

But wait.  There are two, just two humans left, standing in the Throne Room opposite one another.  Daenerys Targaryen and Tyrion Lannister are the only two humans in the world.  Last two standing.  Having absorbed this reality, they sigh, and in a spirit more of genetic obligation than any excitement, they start to undress.



Everything is dead.  And I mean every human, every dragon, every cow and every squirrel. The seas are empty of fish.  There’s not a bird in the sky.  There not a tree or a shrub or a blade of grass to be seen throughout those landmasses once called Westeros, Essos and Sothoryos.  The Children of the Forest went with the Forests.  Even the white walkers are long gone, having absorbed all life so many centuries ago, they all died of boredom.  Nothing lives and nothing that ever had life now walks.

Apart from Bran.  In a circle of stone, the Three Eyed Raven remains in the same trance that has absorbed him for thousands of years.  Suddenly, though there is nothing to see or hear it, he awakens.

“Eeeeeeeugh!!  I’ve just remembered!  I saw Queen Cersei and Jamie Lannister DOING IT!”


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