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♪ Game of Thrones 1x09 ♪
Baelor
Original Air Date on June 12, 2011

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

You've seen
better days, My Lord.

Another visit?

It seems
you're my last friend.

No no,
many still love you.

Sansa came to court
this morning

to plead for your life.

On her knees,
begging for me, hmmm.

Did you laugh
with the others?

You do me wrong, My Lord.

Your blood is
the last thing I want.

I don't know
what you want.

I've given up
trying to guess.

When I was still a boy--

before they cut my balls off
with a hot knife--

I traveled with a group
of actors through the free cities.

They taught me that
each man has a role to play.

The same is true
at court.

I am the master
of whisperers.

My role is to be sly, obsequious
and without scruples.

I'm a good actor,
My Lord.

Huh.
Can you free me from this pit?

I could.

But will I?

No.

As I said,
I'm no hero.

What do you want?
Tell me.

No riddles, no stories--
tell me, what do you want?

Peace.

Did you know that
your son is marching south

with an army of Northmen?
Loyal lad--

fighting for
his father's freedom.

Robb?

He's just a boy.

Boys have been
conquerors before.

But the man giving Cersei
sleepless nights

is the King's--
the late King's brother.

Lord Stannis has the best
claim to the Throne,

he is a proven battle commander
and he is utterly without mercy.

Stannis Baratheon
is Robert's true heir.

The Throne
is his by rights.

Tsk tsk. Sansa pleaded
so sweetly for your life,

it would be a shame
to throw it away.

Cersei is no fool.

She knows a tame wolf is more
use to her than a dead one.

You want me to serve the
woman who murdered my King,

who butchered my men,
who crippled my son?

I want you
to serve the realm!

Tell the Queen you will confess
your vile treason,

tell your son
to lay down his sword

and proclaim Joffrey
as the true heir.

Cersei knows you
as a man of honor.

If you give her
the peace she needs

and promise to carry
her secret to your grave,

I believe she will allow you to take
the Black and live out your days

on the Wall with your brother
and your bastard son.

You think my life is
some precious thing to me?

That I would trade my honor
for a few more years of...

Of what?

You grew up with actors.

You learned their craft
and you learned it well.

But I grew up
with soldiers.

I learned how to die
a long time ago.

Pity.

Such a pity.

What of your
daughter's life, My Lord?

Is that a precious
thing to you?

It's a birthday message
to his grand-niece Walda.

Or so Walder Frey
would have you think.

Keep shooting them down.
We can't risk Lord Walder

sending word of your movements
to the Lannisters.

He's grandfather's bannerman.
We can't expect his support?

Expect nothing of Walder Frey
and you'll never be surprised.

Look.

Father rots
in a dungeon.

How long before
they take his head?

We need to cross the Trident
and we need to do it now.

Just march up to his gates
and tell him you're crossing.

We've got five times his numbers.
You can take the Twins if you have to.

Not in time. Tywin Lannister
marches north as we speak.

The Freys have held
the crossing for 600 years,

and for 600 years they have never
failed to exact their toll.

Have my horse
saddled and ready.

Enter the Twins alone
and he'll sell you to the Lannis.

Or throw you in a dungeon.
Or slit your throat.

My father would do whatever
it took to secure our crossing.

Whatever it took.

If I'm going
to lead this army,

I can't have other men
doing my bargaining for me.

I agree.

- I'll go.
- Theon: You can't!

I have known Lord Walder
since I was a girl.

He would never
harm me.

Unless there was
a profit in it.

What do you want?

It is a great pleasure to see you
again after so many years, My Lord.

Oh spare me.

Your boy's too proud
to come before me himself.

What am I supposed
to do with you?

Father, you forget yourself.
Lady Stark is here--

Who asked you?
You're not Lord Frey yet,

not until I die.
Do I look dead to you?

Father, please--

I need lessons in courtesy
from you, bastard?

Your mother would still
be a milkmaid

if I hadn't squirted you
into her belly.

All right,
you come forward.

There. Now that I've observed
the courtesies,

perhaps my sons will do me the honor
of shutting their mouths.

Is there somewhere
we can talk?

We're talking
right now.

Fine.

Out! All of you!

You too.

You see that?

15 she is.

A little flower.

And her honey's all mine.

I'm sure she will
give you many sons.

Huh. Your father didn't
come to the wedding.

He is quite ill, My Lord.

Didn't come to
the last one either.

Or the one before that.

Your family has always
pissed on me.

- My Lord, I--
- Don't deny it. You know it's true.

The fine Lord Tully

would never marry any
of his children to mine.

I'm sure there
were reasons why--

I didn't need reasons.
I needed to get rid

of sons and daughters.
You see how they pile up?

Why are you here?

To ask you

to open your gates,
My Lord,

so my son and his bannermen may cross
the Trident and be on their way.

Why should I let him?

If you could climb
your own battlements,

you would see that he has
20,000 men outside your walls.

They'll be 20,000 corpses
when Tywin Lannister gets here.

Don't try and frighten me,
Lady Stark.

Your husband's in a cell
beneath the Red Keep

and your son's got no fur
to keep his balls warm.

You swore an oath
to my father.

Oh yes, I said some words...

And I swore oaths to the crown too,
if I remember right.

Joffrey's King now,
which makes your boy

and his corpses-to-be nothing
but rebels, it seems to me.

If I had the sense
the Gods gave a fish,

I'd hand you both
over to the Lannisters.

- Why don't you?
- Stark, Tully,

Lannister, Baratheon,

give me one good reason

why I should waste
a single thought on any of you?

And... engage.

When does Aemon think you'll
be able to use that hand?

- Soon, he says.
- Good.

You'll be ready
for this then.

I thought a wolf was
more appropriate for you

than a bear...

So I had a new pommel made.
It's called Longclaw.

Works as well for a wolf
as a bear, I think.

This is Valyrian steel.

It was my father's sword,

his father before him.

The Mormonts have carried it
for five centuries.

It was meant
for my son Jorah.

He brought dishonor
to our House,

but he had the grace
to leave the sword

before he fled
from Westeros.

My Lord, you honor me,
but I can't--

Oh, you can
and you will.

I wouldn't be standing here if it
wasn't for you and your beast.

A bloody dead man
tried to kill me...

So you'll take it.
I'll hear no more about it.

- Is that understood?
- Yes, My Lord.

Right.
Now don't think this means

I approve
of this nonsense

with you
and Alliser Thorne.

That's a man's sword,

it'll take
a man to wield it.

I'll apologize
to Ser Alliser tonight.

No you won't!

I sent him to King's Landing
yesterday.

The hand that your wolf

tore off
that thing's wrist--

I've ordered Thorne to lay it
at the feet of this...

Boy King.

That should get young
Joffrey's attention.

And it puts
a thousand leagues

between you and Thorne.

Now go and put your sword
somewhere safe

and bring me
my supper.

Yes, My Lord.

- Well done.
- Well done.

You earned that, Snow.

Well done.

Go on,
let's have a look.

- At what?
- Grenn: The sword! Show us the sword.

Sword! Sword!
Sword! Sword!

- Let's have a look.
- Piss off.

Get off of it.
Piss off.

Come on, I want to have
a look at it in the light.

Give it here!

What is it?

- I--
- Look at its eyes.

- Give it.
- I can't.

You can't what?

I-- I'm really not
supposed to say.

And yet you really
want to say.

You want to say
that...?

There was a raven.

I read the message
to Maester Aemon.

It's your brother Robb.

What?

What about him?

He's heading south.

To war.

All his bannermen have rallied
to his side. They'll keep him safe.

I should be there.

I should be with him.

...If we do that, they'll never
get back across.

Well?

What did he say?

Lord Walder has granted
your crossing.

- His men are yours as well--
- Greatjon: Huh.

--Less the 400 he will keep here
to hold the crossing

against any who would
pursue you.

And what does
he want in return?

You will be taking on his son
Olyvar as your personal squire.

- He expects a knighthood in good time.
- Fine fine.

And?

And Arya

will marry his son Waldron

- when they both come of age.
- She won't be happy about that.

Hmmm.

And?

And

when the fighting
is done...

You will marry
one of his daughters.

Whichever you prefer.

He has a number he thinks
will be... suitable.

I see.

Did you get a look at his daughters?

I did.

And?

One was...

Do you consent?

Can I refuse?

Not if you want to cross.

Then I consent.

Sam said you wanted
to see me?

I did indeed.

Perhaps you would be
kind enough to assist me.

Tell me,
did you ever wonder

why the men
of The Night's Watch

take no wives
and father no children?

No.

So they will not love.

Love is the death
of duty.

If the day should ever come when
your lord father was forced to choose

between honor
on the one hand

and those he loves
on the other,

what would he do?

He would do whatever was right.
No matter what.

Then Lord Stark
is one man in 10,000.

Most of us are not
so strong.

What is honor

compared
to a woman's love?

And what is duty

against the feel of a newborn son
in your arms?

Or a brother's smile?

Sam told you.

We're all human.

Oh, we all do our duty when
there's no cost to it.

Honor comes easy then.

Yet sooner or later

in every man's life

there comes a day
when it is not easy,

a day when
he must choose.

And this is my day?

Is that what
you're saying?

Oh, it hurts, boy.
Oh yes.

- I know.
- You do not know!

No one knows.

I may be a bastard,

but he is my father
and Robb is my brother.

The Gods were cruel when they
saw fit to test my vows.

They waited till I was old.

What could I do when the ravens
brought the news from the South--

the ruin of my House,
the death of my family?

I was helpless,

blind, frail.

But when I heard

they had killed
my brother's son,

and his poor son...

And the children!

Even the little children.

Who are you?

My father was Maekar,

the first of his name.

My brother Aegon
reigned after him

when I had refused
the Throne.

And he was followed
by his son Aerys,

whom they called
the Mad King.

You're Aemon Targaryen.

I'm a Maester
of the Citadel,

bound in service to Castle Black
and The Night's Watch.

I will not tell you
to stay or go.

You must make
that choice yourself,

and live with it
for the rest of your days.

As I have.

Drogo.

Sajo anni.

Hyah hyah.

Our scouts tell us

the Stark host has moved
south from the Twins

with Lord Frey's levies
in tow.

They're a day's
march north.

The boy may lack
experience and sense,

but he does have
a certain mindless

- provincial courage.
- Ah.

Oh, do continue.
Didn't mean to interrupt.

I do hope your savages
are going to be of some use,

otherwise we've wasted
good steel on them.

The great hairy one insisted he
must have two battle axes--

heavy black steel,
double-sided.

Shagga likes axes.

When the battle commences,
you and your wildlings

will be in the vanguard.

- The vanguard?
- Mm-hmm.

Me and the tribesmen
on the front lines?

They do seem
rather ferocious.

Ferocious?
Last night

a Moon brother stabbed
a Stone Crow over a sausage.

Three Stone Crows seized the Moon
brother and opened his throat.

Bronn managed to keep Shagga from
chopping off the dead man's cock,

which was fortunate,
but even still

Ulf is demanding
blood money,

which Shagga and Gunthor
refuse to pay.

When soldiers lack discipline,
the fault lies with their commander.

Surely there are ways
to have me killed

that would be less detrimental
to the war effort.

There'll be no more
discussion on the matter.

It appears I'm not
hungry after all.

Excuse me, My Lords.

Where did you find one
so pretty at this hour?

- I took her.
- Took her?

- From whom?
- From, uh...

Ser-- what's his name?

I don't know.
Ginger cunt three tents down.

And he didn't have anything
to say about it?

He said something.

Well, the odds of me
living long enough

for him to retaliate
just dropped drastically.

We'll be at
the vanguard tomorrow.

Oh well.

I... think I'll go
and find myself one.

Who are you?

Who would you like me to be?

What did your mother
call you?

Shae.

What did your
mother call you?

My mother died
giving birth to me.

Is that why I'm here?
So we can talk about our mothers?

- What sort of accent is that?
- Foreign.

For--

What do you want
from me?

What do I want from you?

I want you to share my tent.

I want you to pour my wine,
laugh at my jokes,

rub my legs when they're
sore after a day's ride.

I want you to take
no other man to bed

for as long
as we're together.

And I want you to fuck me
like it's my last night in this world--

which it may well be.

And what do I get?

Safety.

No one will hurt you
for as long as you're mine.

The pleasure
of my company,

which I have heard
is spectacular.

Who told you this?
Women you paid?

And three: More gold

than you can spend if you
lived a thousand years.

Do you accept my proposal?

Let's start with your last night
in this world.

Doth-- Dothrae...

Ki ha-- hammi...

Ish nokitta...

Qana'th...

Khaleesi.

Come.

He's very strong.

No one understands
how strong he is.

- He will die tonight, Khaleesi.
- He can't.

He can't.
I won't let him.

Even a Queen doesn't
have that power.

We must go quickly. I've heard
there's a good port in Asshai--

- I won't leave him.
- He's already gone, Khaleesi.

Doth--

Even if--

--Even if he dies,

why would I run?

I am Khaleesi

and my-- my son will be
Khal after Drogo.

This isn't Westeros
where men honor blood.

Here they only honor strength.
There will be fighting

after Drogo dies.

Whoever wins that fight
will be the new Khal.

He won't want any rivals.

Your boy will be plucked
from your breast

and given to the dogs.

I won't leave him.

The wound
has festered.

I think you should wear
your armor tonight, Ser.

I think you're right.

You've saved me
once more.

And now you must
save him.

He's beyond
the healer's skills.

All I can do is
ease his path.

Save him and I will free you.
I swear it.

You must know a way...

Some...

Some magic.

There is a spell.

Some would say death
is cleaner.

Do it.

Save him.

There is a price.

You'll have gold--
whatever you want.

It's not a matter of gold.
This is Bloodmagic.

Only death pays for life.

My death?

No.
Not your death, Khaleesi.

Bring me his horse.

Khaleesi,
do not do this thing.

- Let me kill this witch.
- Kill her and you kill your Khal.

This is Bloodmagic.
It is forbidden.

I am your Khaleesi.
I tell you what is forbidden.

Go now!

- Take her and leave.
- Huh-uh.

Take her!

Irriya?

You must go also, lady.

Once I begin to sing,
no one must enter the tent.

The dead will
dance here tonight.

No one will enter.

Bring him back to me.

What have you done?

I have to save him.

We could have been 10 miles away from
here by now on the way to Asshai.

You would have been safe.

Jíni'th vos eo.

Mra qothoon vosaan--

Khaleesi!

Are you hurt?

- The baby...
- Hmm?

...Is coming.

- Fetch the midwives.
- They will not come.

They say
she is cursed.

They'll come or I'll
have their heads.

The witch--
she can bring baby.

I hear her say so.

Are you in agony,
my lion?

- No.
- You look like you're in agony.

The fire is burning
your pretty soft skin.

Ahhh.

Damn you, woman.
Are you immune to pain?

- Just used to it.
- Drink.

Let's play a new game.

There's a Braavosi knife game
I could teach you--

Does it involve the potential
for losing fingers?

- Not if you win.
- No!

No more fire games,
no knife games.

Let's do something
I'm good at.

What are you good at?

I happen to be a great
judge of character.

- This sounds like a boring game.
- It's not.

Here's how it works:
I make a statement

about your past.
If I'm right,

you drink.
If I'm wrong, I drink.

And no lying.
I'll know if you're lying.

I don't want to play
this game.

Fine.
Bronn first.

Your father beat you.

But my mother
hit harder.

You killed your first man
before you were 12.

It was a woman.

She swung
an axe at me.

You've been
North of the Wall.

What brought you
up there?

Work.

And...

You once loved a woman
many years ago,

but it turned out badly so you've
never let yourself love again.

Oh wait, that's me.

Your turn, my mysterious
foreign beauty.

I don't want to play.

It's fun!
Look at the fun we're having.

Your mother
was a whore.

Drink.

All right.

Your father left the family when
you were very young,

- never to return.
- Drink.

And we've established
the rules about lying?

Drink!

Mmmm.

You wanted
a different life.

You came from somewhere
and you wanted to be elsewhere.

The whole shit-stained world
could drink off that one.

So specifics--

you wanted to be elsewhere,
but how would you get there?

I don't believe the life
of the silent sisters is for you.

So what's
a lowborn girl to do?

Drink.

- Are you sure--
- drink!

And don't talk about
my mother and father ever

or I will carve your eyes
from your head.

My dear lady, if I have
offended you, I apologize.

My turn.

Fine fine.

Ask away.

Try to penetrate
the enigma that is me.

- Who were you in love with?
- That's not how the game works.

I don't care the way
the game works.

Our Lord here
used to be married.

- Married?
- How did you hear that?

You hear lots of things playing
dice with Lannister soldiers.

Another night,
perhaps.

Not another night.
This night.

It's not
a pleasant story.

- Or maybe I will cry.
- I'm guessing the lady and I

can tell more unpleasant stories
than your Lordship.

So...

I was 16. My brother Jaime
and I were riding

when we heard a scream.
She ran out onto the road,

clothes half torn off
with two men on her heels.

Jaime scared away the men easily
enough, while I wrapped her in my cloak.

She was too scared to send off
on her own,

so while Jaime
hunted down the rapers

I took her to the nearest
inn and fed her.

Her name was Tysha.

She was
a wheelwright's orphan.

And she was hungry--

together we finished off
three chickens and a flagon of wine.

Impossible as it seems, there was a
time when I was unaccustomed to wine.

I forgot how afraid
I was around girls,

how I was always waiting
for them to laugh at me

or look away embarrassed

or ask me about my tall
handsome brother.

I forgot about
everything but Tysha.

And somehow I found
myself in her bed.

For three chickens,
I should hope so.

It didn't last long. I didn't know
what the hell I was doing.

But she was good to me.

She kissed me afterwards

and sang me a song.

And by morning I was deep enough
in love to ask for her hand.

A few lies, a few gold coins,
one drunken Septon

and there you have it--
man and wife.

For a fortnight anyway,
until the Septon sobered up

and told my father.

I imagine that was
the end of all that.

Not quite.

First, my father had
Jaime tell me the truth.

The girl was a whore,
you see.

Jaime had arranged
the whole thing,

the road, the rapers--
all of it.

He thought it was time
I had a woman.

After my brother confessed,

my father brought in my wife

and gave her
to his guards.

He paid her well--
a silver for each man.

How many whores command
that kind of price?

He brought me into the barracks
and made me watch.

By the end,
she had so much silver

that the coins were
slipping through her fingers

and rolling
onto the floor.

I would have killed the man
who did that to me.

You should have known
she was a whore.

Really?

I was 16, drunk
and in love--

A girl who
was almost raped

doesn't invite another man
into her bed two hours later.

As I said, I was
young and stupid.

You are still
young and stupid.

Hyah!

What is it?
What do you want?

You're sleeping
through the war.

- What?
- They stole a night's march on us.

They're a mile north.

- Get my squire!
- You don't have a squire.

If I die, weep for me.

You'll be dead.
How will you know?

I'll know.

Watch out!
Move!

Out of the way!

- Move aside!
- ( Neighs

stay low.

Stay low?

If you're lucky,
no one will notice you.

I was born lucky.

Tribesmen of the Vale,

gather round!

Stone Crows!

Black Ears!
Burned Men!

- Moon brothers!
- Man: And painted dogs!

And painted dogs!

Your dominion over
the Vale begins now!

Onward to claim
what is yours!

Half man! Half man!

Half man!
Half man!

Half man! Half man!

To battle.

You're a shit warrior.

I'm alive?

You're alive.

Did we win?

We wouldn't be having
this conversation if we didn't.

How did our
tribesmen do?

Yeah, good.

It's nice to see them
getting along.

You're wounded.

Good of you to notice.

I hear we won.

Hmph.
The scouts were wrong.

There were 2,000
Stark bannermen, not 20,000.

Did we get the Stark boy,
at least?

He wasn't here.

Where was he?

With his other 18,000 men.

And where are they?

- We should go, My Lady.
- No!

My Lady!

Hyah hyah!

By the time they knew what was
happening, it had already happened.

Lady Stark.
I'd offer you my sword,

but I seem
to have lost it.

It's not your sword I want.

Give me my daughters back.

Give me my husband.

I've lost them too,
I'm afraid.

Kill him, Robb.
Send his head to his father.

He cut down 10 of our men--
you saw him.

He's more use
to us alive than dead.

Take him away
and put him in irons.

We could end this war
right now, boy,

save thousands of lives.

You fight for the Starks,
I fight for the Lannisters.

Swords or lances, teeth, nails--
choose your weapons

and let's end this
here and now.

If we do it your way,
Kingslayer,

you'd win.

We're not doing it
your way.

Come on, pretty man.

I sent 2,000 men
to their graves today.

The bards will sing songs
of their sacrifice.

Aye. But the dead
won't hear them.

One victory does not
make us conquerors.

Did we free my father?

Did we rescue my sisters
from the Queen?

Did we free the North from those
who want us on our knees?

This war is far from over.

Could I have one?

A lemon one--
or any of them.

Three coppers.

How about
a nice fat pigeon?

Piss off now.
Go on.

Do you have any stale ones
from yesterday?

- Or any burnt ones?
- Piss off!

Hey, where's everyone going?
What's happening?

They're taking him
to the Sept of Baelor.

Who?

The Hand of the King.

- Traitor!
- Coward!

Baelor.

Baelor!

Traitor!
Traitor!

I am Eddard Stark,

Lord of Winterfell

and Hand of the King.

I come before you
to confess my treason

in the sight of Gods
and men.

I betrayed the faith
of my King

and the trust
of my friend Robert.

I swore to protect
and defend his children,

but before his blood
was cold

I plotted
to murder his son...

And seize the Throne
for myself.

Traitor!

Let the high Septon

and Baelor the blessed
bear witness to what I say:

Joffrey Baratheon

is the one true heir
to the Iron Throne,

by the Grace
of all the gods,

Lord of the Seven Kingdoms

and Protector
of the Realm.

As we sin,

so do we suffer.

This man has
confessed his crimes

in sight
of Gods and men.

The Gods are just

but beloved Baelor
taught us

they can also be
merciful.

What is to be done

with this traitor,
Your Grace?

My mother wishes me to let
Lord Eddard join The Night's Watch.

Stripped of all titles
and powers,

he would serve the realm
in permanent exile.

And My Lady Sansa

has begged mercy
for her father.

But they have
the soft hearts of women.

So long as I am your King,

treason shall never
go unpunished.

Ser Ilyn,

bring me his head!

No! Stop!

Daddy!
Someone stop him!

My son, this is madness.

Put him down!

- Don't look!
- Let me go.

- Let me go!
- Shut your mouth. Look at me.

- Look at me!
- Stop! Daddy!

- Stop! No no!
- Crowd: Traitor!

Stop!

Stop him, stop!

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

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