I remember being so shocked at Baelor, and so disoriented by the next episode. It's as if the sun vanished and the earth flew arbitrarily into interstellar space. There's a moment of "no way" followed by many moments of "what now".
The series lost its best character before its first season elapsed. Perhaps not its best literary character, but its best. Not until Jon rises, many seasons and long nights hence, does this hole begin to fill. How I wish I had more of Ned. Operating as Hand, going to war, keeping the lights on at Winterfell, raising the kids in flashbacks, whatever it may be. I just want more Ned. I don't want him to go.
Every scene of his is fascinating and precious to me now, knowing it's all I'll ever have of him. I savor and dissect each moment.
How ironic or fitting that the moment he loses his fatal flaw, his honor, is his fatal moment. In that sense his honor WAS his life; when he cut its head, his fell off.
It really upset me how quickly the series moved on from Baelor. I thought the next episode should just be gravitational waves from the sun's removal. But instead all marches on, hardly looking back until the welcome sentimentality of the final seasons.
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