Original subtitles

VISERYS: The heads of Westeros had bowed to Aegon,

but its heart still beat free.

Oldtown, the center of the Faith of the Seven.

There dwelt the High Septon, the Father of the Faithful,

who commanded the obedience of all Westeros,

save the savages of the North and their Old Gods.

When Aegon had landed in Westeros,

the High Septon had locked himself in the Starry Sept

and fasted for seven days and seven nights,

one for each of his gods.

All he received for his trouble was the divine wisdom

that if Oldtown took up arms against the Dragon, the city would burn,

faithful and faithless alike.

After the submission of House Stark,

Aegon marched towards Oldtown, steeling himself for another battle.

But he found the gates open, with the High Septon welcoming him.

The pious fool even had the arrogance to grant what Aegon had already won,

and anointed the last Valyrian as "Aegon of House Targaryen,

"First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men,

"Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

As if titles meant anything to a man before whom time itself now bowed.

The maesters would hence divide all history into "Before" and "After Conquest."

Most expected Aegon to stay and make Oldtown his seat,

but soon after his coronation, Aegon returned to the mouth of the Blackwater River

where he had first set foot on Westeros.

A small town had since sprouted around his primitive fort.

To honor their new master, the locals dubbed it King's Landing,

though it looked more fit for a hedge knight,

with wooden palisades, muddy streets

and piles of mangled swords carted in from every corner of the conquest.

But when Aegon made it his court, wood became stone.

Black mud was buried beneath a Red Keep.

And the collected swords of Aegon's foes were blasted by dragonfire,

and became a seat fit for the Conqueror

and the greatest dynasty this world has ever known.

House Targaryen.

My family.

My throne.

Or so it should've been.