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Is that Estermont?

Tarth, Ser Jaime.

The Sapphire Isle.

Why are we on a merchant ship?

Why no Lannister sails?

This ship's sailing to Oldtown.

We'll get off earlier,
not far from Sunspear.

Row ourselves to the Dornish shore
in the night.

You ever been to Dorne?

- No.
- I have.

The Dornish are crazy. All they want to do
is fight and fuck,

- fuck and fight.
- You should be happy to go back then.

There's nothing like a good fight
to get you in the mood for fucking.

And there's nothing like
a fuck-mad Dornish girl

to clear your head for the next fight.

It's how the two work together.

And we're gonna do a lot
of fighting, I am sure.

Well, I am. But I don't imagine we'll
get to stick around for the rest.

Not after we've kidnapped their princess.

We are not kidnapping their princess.

We are rescuing my niece,
bringing her back to her family,

Your niece?

I've been doing this sort
of thing a long time.

I'm good at it.

- That's why you're here.
- I know.

Why are you here? Why not
send 40 of me, or an army?

Unlike most folks, you've actually got one.

Because I don't want to start a war.

That still doesn't explain
what you're doing here.

It has to be me.

If I'm putting something
like this together,

a one-handed man,

who happens to be one of the most
recognizable faces in Westeros is not...

It has to be me.

You set your brother free, didn't you?

I bet your sister didn't like that.

Varys set him free.

Well...

if you ever see the wee fucker,
give him my regards.

He murdered my father.

If I ever see him,
I'll split him in two.

And then I'll give him your regards.

The Iron Bank has called in
one-tenth of the Crown's debts.

- Given the expense of rebuilding the royal fleet...
- How much can the Crown afford?

With winter coming, half what they ask.

- Less.
- You're the Master of Coin.

- How do we pay them?
- House Tyrell could front the gold and the...

the Crown would pay us back in time,
or I'll have words with my daughter.

You've already given us too much.

No, we must arrange better
terms with the Iron Bank.

- Absolutely.
- In person.

Me?

We must send an envoy to the Iron Bank,

someone of importance, to show
these bankers our respect.

As the King's Master of Coin, I can
think of no one more qualified.

I will be honored, Your Grace.

The King has expressed concern about his
father-in-law's safety on this voyage.

He's ordered Ser Meryn to
personally lead your escort.

A valiant Kingsguard?

- Please express...
- Safe travels, Lord Tyrell.

Of course, of course, I'll give your
regards to the Titan of Braavos.

The Small Council grows
smaller and smaller.

Not small enough.

May I offer you some wine, Your Holiness?

No.

The old High Septon would
have asked the vintage.

I could say that our minds
are temples to the Seven

and should be kept pure.

But the truth is,

I don't like the taste.

How may I serve?

All over Westeros we hear
about septs being burned.

Silent sisters raped.

Bodies of holy men piled in the streets.

Wars teach people to obey the sword,

not the Gods.

Perhaps the Gods need a sword of their own.

In the days before the Targaryens,

the Faith Militant dispensed
the justice of the Seven.

Well, the Faith Militant was disarmed
more than two centuries ago.

If I explain the holy purpose
to my son, the king,

I have no doubt he will sign a decree
arming the believers you felt worthy.

An army that defends the bodies
and souls of the common people.

An army in service to the Gods themselves.

And to you, of course.

As the chosen representative of the Seven.

An honor I've never expected.

Or indeed, ever wished for.

Which is why you were chosen.

You and I both know how the world works.

Too often the wicked or the wealthiest
beyond the reach of justice.

The king himself cannot always punish those
who deserve it most.

All sinners are equal before the Gods.

What would you say if I told you
we have a great sinner in our very midst?

Shielded by gold and privilege.

May the Father judge him justly.

Help me! Help me!

Aah!

This is Lord Petyr Baelish's establishment.

Cocksucker!

Boy fucker!

You barbaric filth!

There's a special place in the Seven Hells
for your kind.

Please, please, I'll pay!

I'll pay all of you.

Yes, you will!

Seize him.

Get your hands off of me.

Ser Loras of House Tyrell, you have broken
the laws of Gods and men.

Who do you think you are?

Justice.

Why is my brother in a cell?

I--I don't know.

I--I didn't order it.

We both know who did.

You told me she was
returning to Casterly Rock.

Are you saying my mother is behind this?

She's jealous you're not hers anymore.

Arresting my brother is her revenge.

Aren't you and mother getting along?

Oh, my sweet, sweet King.

Do you have any affection for me at all?

Of course I do.

You're my Queen.

I can't bear to think of my brother locked
away in some grimy cell.

I'll set him free for you.

You promise?

I demand that Ser Loras be freed now!

Did I arrest him?

Well, no...

But you armed the Faith Militant.

You gave the High Sparrow an army.

I did.

And your wife has every right to criticize.

Can't allow fanatics to arrest the Queen's
brother, no matter his perversions.

Then...

can I tell Margaery you'll
have Ser Loras released?

I told you I am not holding Ser Loras.

You're the King. I'm sure if you speak to the
High Sparrow, he'll release the poor boy.

Halt!

His Holiness is praying.
He will not be disturbed.

Give the order and we'll
clear out this rabble.

You mean, kill them?
Here, in the sept?

You'll be sending them to
meet the Gods that they love.

Bastard!

You're an abomination!

You're born of sin!

Filthy bastard!

We'll find another way.

Abomination!

My Queen.

There was no way to free Ser Loras
without violence.

You're the King of the Andals,

the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms,
the Protector of the Realm.

And you let a band of fanatics
imprison your brother by law.

- I'm going to speak to the High Sparrow.
- Are you? When?

- I--I don't know.
- You don't know?

He was praying just now.

I have to send word to Grandmother.

Will you come back later?

I need to be with my family, Your Grace.

Of course.

You think highly of this boy.

Good.

- Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.
- A bastard by some tavern slut.

Perhaps, but that wasn't Ned Stark's way.

I should have given you a son.

- Not your fault.
- Whose then?

I gave you nothing but weakness.

And deformity.

Those scars mean nothing
to the Lord of Light.

My Lady.

Her father is the Lord's chosen King.

And her father's blood
runs through her veins.

You march on Winterfell soon.

We must.

To beat the snows.

Once before you put your faith in Ser Davos
and left me behind.

I hope you won't make that mistake again.

I won't.

I need you.

You only need faith, my King.

And you, my Lady, what do you need?

To serve my Lord.

Lord Ashford.

Lady Caulfield.

Lord Smallwood.

Never even heard of these people.

They haven't heard of you either.

But we need men and they have some.

How many men does this Lord Mason
have to send us?

More than Lord Webberley.

- Not him.
- Then who?

I'm sorry, but we need men and supplies.

And Roose Bolton is the Warden of...

- He murdered my brother.
- We swore to be the Watchers on the Wall.

We can't watch the Wall with 50 men.

And we can't get more men without help
from the Warden of the North.

Apologies, my Lady.

Lord Commander.

How can I help you?

Come with us when we ride south.

None of us know the
castle as well as you do.

Its hidden tunnels, its weaknesses,
its people.

Winterfell was your home once.

Don't you want to chase the rats out of it?

Castle Black is my home now.

Night's Watch take no part in
the wars of the Seven Kingdoms.

There's only one war.

Life against death.

Come.

Let me show what you're fighting for.

You're gonna show me
some vision in the fire.

Forgive me, my Lady.

But I don't trust in visions.

No visions.

No magic.

Just life.

Do you feel my heart beating?

This power in you, you resist it, and
that's your mistake. Embrace it.

The Lord of Light made us male and female.

Two parts of a greater whole.

You're not joining this power.

Power to make life,

power to make light,

and the power to cast shadows.

I don't think Stannis would
like that very much.

Then we shouldn't tell him.

I can't.

Why?

I swore a vow.

I loved another.

The dead don't need lovers.

Only the living.

I know.

But I still love her.

You know nothing, Jon Snow.

Are you lonely?

Just bored.

My father used to tell me that boredom
indicates a lack of inner resources.

Were you bored a lot, too?

I know Castle Black is
no place for a child.

I like it.

I thought I'd be left at home.

I know mother didn't want to bring me.

Why do you say that?

She told me "I don't want to bring you."

She shouldn't have said that.

Are you ashamed of me, father?

When you were an infant,

the Dornish trader landed on Dragonstone.

His goods were junk
except for one wooden doll.

He'd even sewn a dress on it
in the colors of our House.

No doubt he'd heard of your birth.

And assumed new fathers were easy targets.

I still remember how you smiled when
I put that doll in your cradle.

You pressed it to your cheek.

By the time we burnt the doll,
it was too late.

I was told you would die.

Or worse.

The grayscale would go slow.

Let you grow just enough to know the world
before taking it away from you.

Everyone advised me to send
you to the ruins of Valyria

to live out your short
life with the Stone men,

before the sickness spread through the castle.

I told them all to go to hell.

I called in every maester
on this side of the world.

Every healer, every apothecary.

They stopped the disease
and saved your life.

Because you did not belong across the world
with the bloody Stone men.

You are the Princess Shireen
of House Baratheon.

And you are my daughter.

I thought I might find you here.

Your Aunt Lyanna.

My father never talked about her.

Sometimes I'd find him down here,
lighting the candles.

They say she was beautiful.

I saw her once.

I was a boy, living with
your mother's family.

Lord Whent had a great
tourney at Harrenhal.

Everyone was there.

The Mad King,

your father,

Robert Baratheon,

and Lyanna. She was already
promised to Robert.

You can imagine what it was like
for me, a boy from nowhere,

with nothing to his name,

watching these legendary
men, tilting at the lists.

The last two riders were

Barristan Selmy and Rhaegar Targaryen.

When Rhaegar won, everyone
cheered for the prince.

I remember the girls laughing when he took off
his helmet and they saw that silver hair.

How handsome he was.

Until he rode right past
his wife, Elia Martell,

and all the smiles died.

I've never seen so many people so quiet.

He rode past his wife

and he laid a crown of winter
roses in Lyanna's lap.

Blue as frost.

How many tens of thousands had to die
because Rhaegar chose your aunt?

Yes, he chose her.

And then he kidnapped her and raped her.

Come.

Let's speak somewhere
the dead can't hear us.

- Dressed for riding?
- I am.

Where are you going?

King's Landing.

King's Landing?

Cersei sent for me.

We must not let her sniff out any trouble.

You can't leave me here.

I know how hard it is to live with
people you despise, believe me.

But it won't be for long.

How do you know?

Stannis Baratheon garrisons
at Castle Black.

He'll march south to King's Landing
before the winter snows block his way.

But first, he has to take Winterfell.

- You don't know that.
- I do.

Once he liberates these
lands from the Boltons

he'll rally your father's
bannermen to his cause.

With the North behind him,

Stannis can finally take the Iron Throne.

You think he'll defeat the Boltons?

He has a larger army.

He's the finest military
commander in Westeros.

A betting man would put
his money on Stannis.

As it happens, I am a betting man.

And if you're right?

Stannis takes Winterfell,

he rescues you from the most
despised family in the North.

Grateful for your late father's
courageous support for his claim,

he names you Wardeness of the North.

But I... I wouldn't...

- Wardeness of the North...
- You are the last surviving Stark.

He needs you.

What if you're wrong?

What if Stannis never attacks Winterfell,
or he does and the Boltons defeat him?

Then you will take this Bolton boy,
Ramsay, and make him yours.

- I don't know how to do that.
- Of course you do.

He's already fallen for you.

- His father frightens me.
- He should, he's a dangerous man.

But even the most dangerous
men can be outmaneuvered.

And you learned to maneuver
from the very best.

I return before too long.

You'll be strong without me.

The North will be yours.

Do you believe me?

I expect I'll be a married woman
by the time you return.

Breakfast.

That would have been a shit way to die.

As far as I've seen, they're
all shit ways to die.

Aye. But your lot have to give
the singers a good ending.

I don't care what's sung about me
when I'm dead.

No?

Two knights, off to rescue a princess.

- Sounds like a good song to me.
- Sounds like all the rest.

What about you? What shit
way would you choose?

In my own keep, drinking my own wine,
watching my sons grovel for my fortune.

How disappointing. I thought you'd
have something more exciting planned.

I've had an exciting life.
I want my death to be boring.

- How do you want to go?
- In the arms of the woman I love.

She want the same thing?

Let's go.

The captain of that ship...

- What was he, Braavosi?
- Pentoshi.

And he's headed to Oldtown.

As I said.

Why?

What's to stop him from
docking down the coast

and telling the locals that
Jaime Lannister's in Dorne?

A bag of gold.

I'm not sure you understand

how much people hate your family
in this part of the world.

It was a heavy bag.

And I bet he swore all
kinds of oaths to get it.

But you won't be around if he breaks them.

How many you count?

Four.

How many you think you can take?

One, if he's slow.

Halt!

Fucked in the arse.

Hiya!

Morning, lads.

Glad we found you.

Who are you?

Cooper.

This is Darnell.

You're from King's Landing.

Accent gave me away?

Flea Bottom.

Whelped and whipped.

Why are you here?

Our ship capsized in the night.

We managed to swim ashore.

It was a near thing, really.

I thought the sharks would get us.

There are no sharks in Dorne.

I could have sworn those were shark fins.

Dolphins maybe.

Throw your swords in the sand.

Boys, there's no need for this.

Just, point us in the right direction.

We'll find our way home.

Swords in the sand!

Now!

That one should be slow enough.

Nice move!

Luck.

You had a wonderful teacher.

Always wanted a Dornish stallion.

Beasts can run a day and
night without tiring.

We'll ride to the Water Gardens
with a nice breeze in our face.

But first we need to bury these bodies.

Birds have to eat too.

Corpses raise questions,
questions raise armies.

We're not here to start a war.

Do you know how long it will
take us to dig all those holes?

I can't dig very well with one hand.

Not at all, really.

Mama...

- Nym, Obara.
- Will it be war?

Prince Doran will weep for your father,
but nothing else.

We must avenge Oberyn ourselves.

Without Doran we have no army to
march against the Lannisters.

We don't need an army to start a war.

Queen Cersei loves her children.

- ...and we have one of them.
- We may have a problem.

A ship's captain, who found me in Planky
Town, claiming he had information to sell.

He told me he smuggled Jaime
Lannister into Dorne.

He's come for Myrcella.

If he gets to her before we do,

we lose our only chance for revenge.

You must choose...

Doran's way and peace,

or my way...

and war.

I'm with you. Always.

Nym?

Obara?

When I was a child, Oberyn
came to take me to court.

I'd never seen this man, and yet

he called himself my father.

My mother wept, said
I was too young, and a girl.

Oberyn tossed his spear
at my feet and said

"Girl or boy, we
fight our battles.

"But the Gods let us
choose our weapons."

My father pointed to the spear,

and then to my mother's tears.

I made my choice long ago.

Thank you.

Who are you?

Your captor.

Do you have wine?

No.

I can't sleep without wine.

Then stay awake.

You're going the wrong way.

My sister's in Westeros.

Westeros...is west!

We're heading east...

I'm not taking you
to your sister.

You said you were
taking me to the Queen.

I am.

Queen Daenerys Targaryen.

She's the Queen I serve.

What a waste of a
good kidnapper.

So happens I was
heading there myself!

What business would you
have with the Queen?

Gold and glory?

Oh, and hate.

If you'd ever met my
sister, you'd understand.

So...

now that it's clear
we are on the same side.

A high born knight from
the North of Westeros,

down on his luck in Essos.

Dragon epaulettes?

Bear sigil breastplate.

You're Jorah Mormont.

I have to ask...

how, exactly, were you
serving your Queen in a whore house,

half a world away?

Is it possible,

that you were running?

Why would you be running?

And why would she
have sent you away?

Oh, wait!

You were spying on
her, weren't you?

It's all coming back to me!

I was drunk through most of the Small
Council meetings, but it's all coming back.

You passed notes to
Varys's little birds.

She found out, didn't she?

Found out, and exiled you.

And now you hope to win
back her favor with a gift.

A risky scheme...

One might even say, desperate.

Do you think Daenerys would
execute me, and pardon you?

I'd say the reverse
is just as likely.

Everyone looks happy
enough from up here.

What?

I was thinking of all the
times your brother

made me go with him down from the Red
Keep, into the streets of King's Landing.

- Why?
- He liked to walk among the people,

he liked to sing to them.

He sang to them?

Yes.

Rhaegar would take a
spot on the Hook

or the Street of Seeds
and then he'd sing.

Just like all the
other minstrels.

And what did you do?

I made sure no one killed him.

And... I collected the money.

Well... he liked to see
how much he could make.

- He was good?
- He was very good.

Viserys never told you?

He told me Rhaegar was
good at killing people.

Rhaegar never liked killing.

He loved singing.

And what did you
do with the money?

Well, one time, he gave it to the
next minstrel down the street.

One time, he gave it to an
orphanage in Flea Bottom.

One time...

we got horribly drunk.

Your Grace.

Hizdahr is here, waiting
in your audience chamber.

How many others are there?

Fifty... a hundred.

Will you be joining
us, Ser Barristan?

I think I can protect
you from Hizdhar Zo Loraq.

I think I can protect me
from Hizdhar Zo Loraq.

Go, Ser Barristan.

Sing a song for me.

Your Grace.

All men must die.

- But not all can die in glory.
- Glory?

Why else do men fight?

Why did your ancestors cross the Narrow
Sea and conquer the Seven Kingdoms?

So their names would live on.

Those who find victory in the fighting
pits, will never become kings...

but their names will live on.

It's the best chance
they'll ever have.

Is that what you used to tell men before you
set them to butchering each other for sport?

Your Grace, today is the traditional
start of the fighting season.

I do not recognize this tradition.

Traditions are the only thing

that will hold this city...
your city, together.

Without them, former slaves and former
masters have nothing in common.

Nothing but centuries of mistrust

and resentment.

I can't promise this is the
answer to all our problems...

but it's a start.

_

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