10 Game Of Thrones Characters That Deserved Better Endings

Spoilers for "Game of Thrones."

For eight seasons, "Game of Thrones" reigned as the most-talked-about show on television. It was must-see TV, and everyone tuned in Sunday nights to see how the story progressed. The fact that readers of the George R.R. Martin books were finally getting the conclusion to an epic tale that started way back in 1996 only added to the drama. There were hints in Seasons 6 and 7 that things were slightly amiss as we passed beyond the narrative established by the books, but that in no way dampened excitement for the final season. But those misgivings turned out to be prophetic.

Everything wrong with the way "Game of Thrones" concluded can be traced back to the writing and the harried pace to reach "the end." Nuance and intrigue — the show's hallmarks, along with "sexposition" — were sacrificed in favor of contrived plot conveniences and boneheaded decisions that completely betrayed everything we knew of the characters. And that, ultimately, is "the complex legacy of Game of Thrones": wonderfully realized characters flattened into two-dimensional shapes. And then set afire. Here are the 10 characters who drew the shortest straws.

Leading off with the worst of the many "Game of Thrones" bad endings, Jamie Lannister (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) suffered quite possibly the most egregious character assassination in all of pop-culture history. He starts out as a smug prick, which is bad enough. But he achieves full-on villain status after he shoves Bran Stark (Isaac Hempstead Wright) out a window in order to keep his intimate fondness for his sister a secret. As a reminder, this was in the very first episode. Then the most remarkable thing happened. We actually started to like Jamie. 

We came to understand why he betrayed his vows to protect the Mad King and instead killed him. More importantly, once Jamie loses his hand, he starts to develop a conscience. Through his relationship with Brienne (Gwendoline Christie), Jamie again aspires to be the kind of knight he'd once dreamt of. We cheer when he rebuffs his sister and instead rides north to help fight the Army of the Dead. It's a full 180-degree change from the man he'd once been. And then his entire character arc, carefully meted out across seven seasons, comes undone in the final few episodes. Jamie sleeps with Brienne but abandons her in favor of his sister, who is still as selfish and crazed as ever. The nature of Jamie's ultimate death is dumb and anticlimactic, but, frankly, we were done with him after he left Winterfell.

For seven seasons, Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish (Aidan Gillen) plays the lords of the realm like pawns. It is Baelish who instigates the War of the Five Kings by goading the Starks and Lannisters into conflict. It is Baelish who betrays Ned Stark in favor of Cersei Lannister (Lena Headey), which results in Ned losing his head. And it is Baelish who conspires his way into an arranged marriage with Lysa Tully (Simone Fairley) by killing Jon Arryn, the former lord of the Vale, thereby affording himself a level of power and influence he'd never otherwise have. Cersei utters the famous quote about playing the Game of Thrones, but Littlefinger is the most capable player.

But his Achilles heel is his love of the Tully women. Not Lysa, but her sister Catelyn Stark (Michelle Fairley), for whom Littlefinger still nurses a childhood crush. He transfers that affection to Catelyn's daughter, Sansa Stark (Sophie Turner), becoming sort of her creepy mentor. He helps arrange the power of the Vale behind Sansa, for reasons unclear; perhaps as a hopeful early wedding gift. And then he tries to pit Sansa against her sister Arya (Maisie Williams). Why? To what possible end? There's little doubt that Littlefinger's end fits the crime, but for such a shrewd tactician, how he gets there is one of the show's most egregious blunders.

She of the many nicknames, Daenerys Targaryen (Emilia Clarke) went from "The Breaker of Chains" to "The Breaker of Hearts" faster than you can say "dracarys." Dany had been the people's champion nearly from the very first episode. We cheered as she grows beyond her abusive and manipulative brother, as she flourishes as Khal Drogo's (Jason Momoa) wife and then his widow, as she truly becomes the Mother of Dragons. But to mix pop-culture metaphors, in the end, she goes the way of Anakin Skywalker, destroying the world and leaving it in darkness.

That she broke bad is a huge disappointment, but not a terrible surprise. There were subtle hints along the way that she had serious anger issues, and her family has a notorious history of mental health problems. But while George R.R. Martin's story may have always been fated to conclude this way, the show's execution squanders all the goodwill Dany spent seven seasons building. We needed seasons to properly depict Dany's descent into madness. Seasons, not episodes. The abrupt heel turn and ready embrace of absolute evil flies in the face of everything Dany stood for and, amidst the endgame's bloody deaths and bittersweet victories, felt like a betrayal.

Ghost is the bestest good boy in all the realm. An albino and the runt of the litter, Ghost is a Bastard in all but name, which makes him an excellent pet for Jon Snow (Kit Harrington), Ned Stark's common-born son who totally isn't common. Ghost accompanies Jon when, in one of the show's best episodes, Jon goes beyond the Wall as the Night's Watch march north. He is Jon's most loyal friend and companion, and an absolute terror on the battlefield. 

Which is why the show's continual efforts to minimize Ghost are frustrating. All that sweet, sweet CGI money went to the dragons, I guess, which means Ghost has to go sit in the corner. Ghost mostly just pops up in cameos for the last few seasons, which is a pity. I don't think he's in Season 7 at all. He's in the final season just long enough to lose an ear in the battle with the White Walkers. Most damning of all, when Jon marches south to help Dany take King's Landing, he leaves Ghost behind with Tormund and doesn't even say goodbye. Ghost deserves better. Much, much better.

"Game of Thrones" went to great pains to establish the Night King (Vladimir Furdik) as the show's Big Bad. We even get his origin story. He was a normal man once, but the Children of the Forest turn him into an undead ice warrior in order to fight off the invaders from across the Narrow Sea. But they can't control the monster they create. They eventually ally with the very people they were fighting to build the Wall and keep the Night King penned in. 

So, he has reasons for hating everyone. I guess that's important, though I think he's a lot more interesting as a nigh-mystical creature of unknown origins who just wants everyone to chill out. 

The opening scene of the first episode involves the threat of the White Walkers. As much as "Game of Thrones" is about any one thing, the central throughline is the conflict between the living and the dead. The final battle, however, is all hype, no substance. The Night King turns out to be the world's biggest glass cannon. The issue isn't that Arya strikes the killing blow while Jon Snow cowers behind a rock. It's not even that he dies from a single blow. When the Night King explodes into shards of ice, his entire undead army collapses, too, which is an awfully convenient way of letting the characters escape certain death.

Much like Littlefinger, Varys (Conleth Hill) is positioned as an uber-plotter from the start. In fact, scenes between Littlefinger and Varys are a special sort of exciting, as the men verbally dance around each other, parrying comments as ably as a knight deflecting swings of a sword. Littlefinger's famous "Chaos is a ladder" speech comes during one of these repartees. Underpinning Varys' scenes was the sense that we really have no idea where his allegiance lies. One moment, he's vague and unhelpful, and the next he's springing Tyrion Lannister (Peter Dinklage) from prison. 

It turns out that the Master of Whispers is a Targaryen loyalist. It's not long before he realizes Dany might be cray like her father. Then he throws in his lot with Jon Snow, aka the long-lost Targaryen prince nobody knew about until five minutes ago. All well and good. Except he loses every ounce of his trademark cool. Gone is the subtlety of the man everyone called the Spider. He starts sending letters out all over the kingdom detailing how Jon is the heir, not Dany. He tries to poison her. Then he attempts to strong-arm Jon into assuming the throne. Tyrion ultimately betrays Varys' trust and goes tattle-taling to Dany, who responds in typical fashion, aka melting Varys via dragon fire. But the Varys of old would never have stumbled so clumsily into his own death.

For about three seasons, the Tyrell women are the only interesting King's Landing storyline. They are everything the Lannisters are not, and thus act as good foils to Cersei and Joffrey Baratheon (Jack Gleeson), in particular. If "Game of Thrones" is not a good example of the pitfalls of incest, I don't know what is.

Of the many contenders for the Iron Throne, Margaery Tyrell (Natalie Dormer) was one of the best. Recall, she marries her way into power no less than three times. Renly Baratheon (Gethin Anthony) is a marriage of friendly convenience, Joffrey is a political one, and Tommen Baratheon (Dean-Charles Chapman) is a move to salvage the fledgling Lannister-Tyrell alliance. In each case, Margaery becomes whatever she needs to be for the marriage to work. She is cunning and shrewd, and able to discretely wield her influence even to curb Joffrey's sadistic tendencies. 

Margaery bears the brunt of Cersei's indirect attacks, staying mentally strong after the High Sparrow and his militia imprison her. She employs the same chameleon-like talent for shapeshifting, outwardly becoming a devout believer while secretly remaining loyal to her house. But it all ends up being for naught, as Cersei uses barrels of wildfire to blow up nearly half the King's Landing cast, an effective if clumsy way of ending that narrative. Given how the King's Landing storyline goes nowhere afterward — Cersei just drinks wine on balconies all of Season 8 — this was a huge misstep.

Missandei (Nathalie Emmanuel) starts out as one of Dany's background singers, part of the trio known as the "It is known" girls, and quickly grows into a position of influence. Dany comes to rely upon Missandei as an interpreter and the women develop a beautiful friendship. More incredibly, the best "Game of Thrones" love story belongs to Missandei and Grey Worm (Jacob Anderson), the eunuch soldier. Both carry the wounds of their past lives and finally find peace with each other.

This being Westeros, it's a little much to expect a "happily ever after" ending for the star-crossed lovers. But it's the way that Missandei's story concludes that rubs us the wrong way. She ultimately becomes the martyr that fuels Dany's madness, and, as such, is dehumanized. Like many other things about Season 8, we also have to wonder: Exactly what was Cersei hoping to accomplish by killing Missandei? Other than pissing off the lady with the dragons, of course. A better plan might've been holding her as a hostage against Dany's good behavior. Or literally using her as a human shield.

Poor Meera Reed (Ellie Kendrick). She leaves her home in the Neck (basically the Westeros version of the bayou) after her brother Jojen Reed (Thomas Brodie-Sangster) receives a vision that Bran Stark needs their help. The two of them escort Bran north of the Wall so that he can fulfill his destiny as the powerfully perceptive but emotionally stunted Three-Eyed Raven. The group is attacked by wights and both Jojen and Hodor (Kristian Nairn) are killed. 

From that point on, Meera becomes Bran's glorified sled dog, dragging his ungrateful butt back south. When they finally get back to Winterfell, she tells him she's heading home. It's clear that she's developed feelings for him and wants him to protest, but he just says thanks and goes back to his weird 1,000-yard stare. It's the most brutal instance of being friend-zoned ever filmed. Meera suffered for Bran and lost her brother in the process, and he displays the emotional warmth of an ice cube. He couldn't care less if she stays or goes.

Grey Worm (Jacob Anderson), leader of the famous Unsullied eunuch fighting force and a formidable warrior, is one of Dany's most loyal servants. Fiercely taciturn, he wields great influence with his queen and willingly follows her across the Narrow Sea despite any personal reservations. And he finds love despite his physical limitations. 

After Missandei's death, Grey Worm goes hard on a tour of vengeance, slaying anyone in Lannister red and gold. That sort of makes sense. What doesn't is how he reacts after Jon Snow murders Dany. He doesn't react at all!

The Unsullied hold Jon and Tyrion prisoner, but for some reason, Grey Worm agrees to let the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms decide their fate. This makes no sense for several reasons. First: He's not from around here, so why does he care what the rulers of this foreign country think? Second: There's a strong chance someone very favorable to Jon will end up on the throne and acquit him of any wrongdoing. Tyrion emerges as the Hand of the King, Jon is exiled to the North, and Grey Worm can do nothing but stare angrily from the sidelines. He eventually boards a boat and sails away, which feels like a bit of sloppy hand washing. It would've been more satisfying if he'd died heroically fighting the undead.