For the seventh season finale of “Game of Thrones,” writers Aziz B. Yakub and Grace Z. Li decided to sit down and have a conversation about the pitfalls and highlights of “The Dragon and the Wolf”.

Grace Z. Li: All right, let’s start with the meeting in King’s Landing.

Aziz B. Yakub: I’d say that the way they approached Cersei’s understanding of the situation compared to Jon’s—juxtaposing loyalty and some sense of honor with Cersei’s pure self-preservation—was actually rather brilliant, and was one of the few things that meeting did well. At its core, it put them in a position that reveals their personalities. In an overstuffed episode, it feels less egregious than it could have been.

On the whole, most of the season felt like it was ambling towards an unknown goal and an unknown end. There was, ultimately, something nice about having it all come together, and frankly, having some sort of vague sense that the writers actually knew what they were doing.

GL: I actually think that the writers had a very clear direction, but that that was the problem of this season. Everything felt too planned and too convenient, and sometimes just entirely unbelievable.

AY: The season felt like it was written from the end to the beginning, like they thought, “How can we put everyone in this position to make this event happen?”

I also feel like the show’s lost its bite. When’s the last time that someone of consequence has died? I feel like if you were watching it in a room full of people, everyone would have applauded at the deaths of this season.

GL: Like Littlefinger? It was really satisfying to see a character so undeniably selfish meet his end. But I don’t think that the scene was done well because of the poor buildup and characterization from past episodes. This entire season has sort of thrown us on a loop. We were really excited to see Sansa and Arya reunite, but then the writers made it seem like they were on opposite sides. So the twist at the end lacked a proper build-up. The idea of Arya and Sansa potentially plotting against Littlefinger was too much of a reach. Its execution was awkward and clumsy.

AY: I partially agree with what you said, but I just want it to be on the record that even though Littlefinger has many problems, I really do like him. This whole season has been moving towards this idea of individuals as good rulers because of their birthright. In this episode we are presented with Cersei learning all her lessons of leadership from her father—like her understanding that wars are won with gold. Jon is presented as this knight of honor because he’s supposedly Ned Stark’s bastard, and that his honor is presented in part as a product of his royal blood. His status is partially because of his character—but it is also partially because of what his blood has done for him. It is the same thing for Daenerys Targaryen.

Everyone who is fighting for the throne has some sort of royal claim—they are part of a long generation of houses that are royal. Littlefinger was the only character in the entire series who actually had a legitimate shot at the throne who wasn’t part of this small group of royally bred individuals. And I’m not saying that just because he’s a “commoner”—or not necessarily a commoner, but lower ranked—that it means that he is better than anyone else, or it erases all the cruel things that he’s done over seven seasons of television, and his backstabbing tendencies, and all the weird stuff that happened with Sansa. But what I am saying is that the show’s political message—the idea that great rulers are passed down from generation to generation in the same families—is misguided and is only reinforced by the death of Littlefinger. Littlefinger may not be a leader of the people, but he’s a leader from the people—and with his death dies the last hope of a leader from the people sitting on the Iron Throne.

GL: I can definitely see that, especially because idea of legitimacy from lineage is so heavily emphasized in all of the themes of the show—like when Jon’s real parents are revealed.

AY: Exactly—it’s like propaganda for monarchy. That’s what this show is.

GL: Speaking of Jon’s parents, what did you think about the big reveal?

AY: I didn’t really care for it. What did you think?

GL: I thought it was anticlimactic. Viewers already knew who Jon’s parents were, so the drama over the “big reveal” felt misplaced. I suppose the writers wanted to create more disgust surrounding Jon and Dany’s incest plotline, but I don’t feel like there was enough emotional angst on incest with this particular couple. We know the Targaryens practiced incest to keep their bloodlines “pure,” but we don’t know what the two’s stances on incest are. Most of our anticipated reactions are the result of assumption—we assume that Jon, Ned Stark’s adopted son, will not stand for it. But we haven’t been shown the proof yet, making this scene ultimately uninteresting.

AY: It was really a waste of a plotline.

GL: It could have been good. “Game of Thrones” has proven that it can write emotional turmoil well. Take Tyrion’s conversation with Cersei as an example. The Lannister family dynamics are probably the most interesting ones of the show. Peter Dinklage and Lena Headey are incredible actors, and they handled the collision of anger and desperation of that scene flawlessly.

AY: I think the really brilliant part about it was the interplay between Cersei’s desire to do the set of actions that will preserve her family, versus doing what she actually wanted to do—which is murder Tyrion. But she knew she needed Dany’s hand to believe that she was going to move her armies.

GL: Tyrion probably believes that there’s still a little bit of soul left in her.

AY: But there’s no soul. That was all acting on both Lena Headey and Cersei’s parts, which is absolutely brilliant.

GL: And also Peter Dinklage. Tyrion is normally the image of calm, of rational thinking, despite having murdered his father and Shae.

AY: Although he has kind of messed up this season. Every piece of major advice he has given has been bad advice this season.

GL: But he’s given it calmly! He’s managed to dole out the condolences for his poor advice calmly! He can keep his cool in the worst of situations—think about how his family has bullied him. Tyrion killing his father was so stunning because no one took him for the violent type. And then in this scene, he puts himself in danger by literally asking Cersei to kill him if she wants to. All of that hurt from being rejected by his own family comes pouring out in these few minutes, and Dinklage doesn’t hold back in this conversation.

AY: What about Jon and Theon’s conversation? What did you think of that?

GL: I did not enjoy Theon’s conversation with Jon. I just thought it wasn’t in Theon’s place to ask for forgiveness. It also wasn’t Jon’s place to grant forgiveness, and he acknowledges that.

AY: It’s the power of love!

GL: Mistakes like Theon’s cannot be erased by a single conversation, but the show writes it like they can—like it’s that easy. He did save Sansa, but he also killed two farm boys, took over Winterfell, and betrayed Robb, who was like a brother to him. His past trauma with Ramsay does not cancel out what he did at Winterfell.

AY: Ramsay’s torture does not invalidate what Theon did.

GL: You can feel sympathy for his past with Ramsay, but you can’t use that as a reason to forgive him for Winterfell. I do like that they’re trying to have Theon redeem himself by saving his sister though, because he hasn’t done much otherwise this season. And his character deserves better writing than that.

AY: The writers are sitting down and deciding that they are not going to let Theon’s past trauma define him, and they’re kind of doing the same with Sansa. But the way that they’re doing that with Theon is not exactly great. He killed some guy who didn’t want to go on a suicide mission to save his sister. You don’t just ask someone to jump off a bridge for you.

And the worst part about this is the way the writers portray the common people. Just because Theon murders someone, means that they will follow him all of a sudden. It’s as if everyone who wasn’t born from a royal family is just a sheep. They’re all murderous sheep.

GL: “Game of Thrones” treats them like they’re disposable.

AY: Exactly, the show seems to say that everyone is disposable unless you’re born with royal blood. That would be fine for the 15th century.

GL: But they’re catering to a modern audience.

AY: Yeah, and it’s like they’re trying to bring back a long dead thought process that should stay dead. They’re romanticizing monarchy. I’m not a fan of monarchy. Do you want to talk about Sansa and Arya?

GL: I really loved the scene right after Littlefinger’s execution, when Sansa and Arya are talking about Ned Stark’s words, “The lone wolf dies but the pack survives.” They’re two very different people, and they acknowledge that in that scene. But they’re together, they’re in Winterfell, and they’re harkening back to the start, paying a sort of homage to “Game of Thrones”’ beginnings.

I wish they ended on this scene, because for me, that felt like the show coming full circle—a fitting conclusion for a family that’s gone through so much. Instead, they threw in a really predictable, anticlimactic, and rather boring White Walker, ice dragon, and wight attack scene.

AY: It was a waste of a climax. There was a better way to do it with a zombie pileup. I am a huge proponent of zombie pileups.

GL: But the ice dragon made things too easy. The ultimate problem of the seventh season finale of “Game of Thrones” is that events were too predictable—we knew Jon and Dany were going to end up together, and we knew that the White Walkers would bring the Wall down. And as mentioned earlier, the writers are heading into a dangerous territory of not being able to kill major characters off. And that doesn’t mean that “Game of Thrones” has to blow up septs or murder favorites in order to keep audiences engaged. They just need more scenes like Tyrion and Cersei’s conversation—scenes that are emotionally complicated enough to add something to the show’s premise.

—Staff writer Aziz B. Yakub can be reached at aziz.yakub@thecrimson.com.

—Staff writer Grace Z. Li can be reached at grace.li@thecrimson.com. Follow her on Twitter at @gracezhali.