Original subtitles

How fares Prince Daemon with our army?

There has been no word.

Your false queen Rhaenyra is a kinslayer.

Cunts!

Soon, they will not even remember

what began the war in the first place.

The Riverlands are the key to the war.

Harrenhal is the key to the Riverlands.

I'm claiming Harrenhal.

Apparently so.

I Ser Simon Strong pledge fealty to Rhaenyra of House Targaryen.

Ser Criston.

May I present my brother, Ser Gwayne Hightower.

Ser Criston.

Ser Gwayne has volunteered

to accompany you into battle.

A good showing, Ser Criston.

Lord Larys, my father always said

he had no use for a master of whisperers.

I find myself wanting for one.

You honor me, Your Grace.

They tell me that you're the one

that dragged my body out of the sea.

I am indebted to you, Alyn.

All hail the king!

All hail the king!

Aemond the Fierce!

And yet you still lie with your very first.

What do you know of the movements of Alicent Hightower?

If war can be averted, it is my duty to avert it.

I must speak with you.

I saw the king that night.

Did you betray him at the very last?

I have been at times unkind but never untrue.

But he spoke Aegon's name. He said he was...

The prince that was promised to unite the realm.

He spoke to you of The Song of Ice and Fire?

Do you think me capable of such naked deceit?

A terrible war is looming.

And even victory may be so bloody

as to be counted a loss.

There has been no mistake. It's too late, Rhaenyra.

Alicent.

Always coming and going, aren't you?

And I have to clean up afterwards.

- Synced and corrected by Firefly - - www.addic7ed.com -

What?

I can't understand.

Speak plainly.

Stop.

Stop it.

There's been a raven.

Good morrow, Your Grace.

Slept well, I trust?

As I said, there's been a raven.

Aegon's army departed King's Landing a fortnight ago.

The castles of Rosby and Stokeworth

have both fallen without siege.

They have raised Aegon's banner

and added their levies to Ser Criston Cole's host.

Both houses cited that

sad business with the usurper's son in their declarations.

Ser Criston's army,

now tripled in strength,

might have Harrenhal as its destination.

Even if you can raise a host of Rivermen,

they will not be ready in time to face him.

Let's see what your Lord Paramount is made of.

My prince... Uh, My-My Grace.

Your Grace.

Lord Grover is looking more hale and healthy than I expected.

Uh, this is Ser Oscar Tully,

grandson to Grover Tully.

He is heir to Riverrun

and the future Lord Paramount of the Riverlands.

His Grace, the King Consort, Daemon Targaryen.

It is an honor, Your Grace.

Indeed.

How fares your grandsire?

Sadly, he remains incapacitated.

He lies in a kind of waking sleep,

unable to do much more than take meager drink.

It is barely enough to sustain him.

So, he's alive?

Yes, gods be good.

Well, my time is short and I have need of an army.

Perhaps you might place a feather pillow over his head

and speed along your inheritance?

I-I love my grandsire, like a father.

My own lord father died suddenly, himself a young man.

Lord Grover raised me in his stead.

All very touching.

Are you here to speak with your grandsire's voice?

For House Tully and the Riverlands?

While he still lives?

- That is not our way. - Then you're of no use to me.

I can see why the Blackwoods and the Brackens

did not fear to start a war

beneath the nose of their liege lords.

House Tully is a fish with no head.

Remind me which of your countrymen

claim to fight in the name of Aegon?

Was it, was it Bracken or Blackwood?

It was House Bracken that declared Green, Your Grace.

Who could remember.

Summon the Blackwoods here.

I require men of action

to lead my host of Rivermen.

M'lady.

"Princess", if we're holding to formalities.

Apologies. Princess.

And you are Alyn.

Yes, Princess.

I'm given to understand my lord husband

owes you his life.

But I was not told his savior was so comely.

Your mother must've been very beautiful.

Rhaenys.

- Is your work finished? - No, m'lord.

I just had a word with your captains.

He was the sailor who plucked you from your watery grave?

Yes.

You did not think to mention it?

I did not think it relevant.

I know who he is, Corlys.

Alyn's past is no fault of his.

He saved his lord's life.

He should be raised up and honored,

not hidden beneath the tides.

Is this why you came?

To subject me to an inquisition?

I came to tell you that Baela has called me to Dragonstone.

Baela?

That council is going to dine on her and Jace for supper.

They grow restless in Rhaenyra's absence.

Still... Where has that woman gone?

I suspect to try and draw us all back from the abyss.

- Good morrow, Your Grace. - Good morrow, Grand Maester.

As requested.

- I brewed it myself. - Thank you.

I will see it delivered discreetly.

Do report if the recipient has need of any remedy.

The tea is known to disagree with the gut.

I shall observe the girl closely.

Grand Maester.

You've ever been a practical man,

an honorable servant to the crown.

And you served my lord husband in his darkest hours.

Such was my duty, Your Grace.

Tell me.

Do you believe Viserys wanted Aegon to succeed him?

I could not know.

His Grace never raised the matter with me.

Ser Criston Cole's host

has taken to exploiting the tree cover

to conceal its movements.

He now only travels by night

to confound our dragons.

And what is Cole's heading?

It is difficult to say, but there were signs

of an army moving northwest, I believe.

She believes.

You should've burned them when you had the chance.

Perhaps you can, Ser Alfred,

when you next sight them on your dragon.

The only reason we know any of this

is because of Baela's efforts.

What do we know, my prince?

If you ask me, it is little and less.

We know that Cole possesses a host that is growing in strength

and that it is a problem.

Can Daemon hope to meet it

with his own in time?

And if I know the Riverlands,

he has more disentangling ahead of him

than the end of a Lyseni orgy.

Have you heard word from your father?

No.

Ravens were sent to Harrenhal

seeking news of Daemon's progress with the Riverlords.

None have, as yet, returned.

Just so.

An enemy host, growing in constitution,

marches somewhere in the vastness of the Crownlands.

We could, perhaps, act if only we had a host of our own.

Or someone here to lead us.

Mind your tongue, Ser Alfred.

Does it speak falsely, my prince?

This council is rudderless.

I'm doing my best to steer it, Ser Alfred.

Why should your voice be any louder than ours, Princess?

The queen did not name you Hand.

It is her voice, and that of the king consort,

that we need to raise alliances and command our vassals.

- But they are gone. - What has come of this council?

My lord.

Our enemy is on the march.

Is there naught to be done in the absence of the queen,

but to grouse and claw for power?

We do not know the queen's doings.

But we must trust that she seeks the same

as each of us at this table.

An end to this conflict.

Men of House Darklyn.

All who bend the knee to the true king, Aegon, will be spared.

You can earn back your honor by raising his banner

and fighting in his name

against the Whore of Dragonstone.

All who refuse...

will have their death.

Good morrow, Lord Darklyn.

Is there no honor left in this world, Cole?

Sacking your queen's own castles

and putting her people to the sword?

"Kingmaker".

You are not fit for the white cloak.

This is a better death than a traitor deserves.

You should thank me for it.

Yours will come in kind.

Lord Hand.

We'll lead the van northeast,

follow the coastline.

I realize you were neither born nor bred

anywhere near the Crownlands, my good Lord Hand,

but Harrenhal is to the west.

Indeed it is.

Fuck you. I told you we should've sent our dragons.

And now look what's happened.

Daemon, of all people, has taken Harrenhal.

I give you a job, and now you just sit there.

It's your fucking castle!

Well, that castle is more crippled than I am, Your Grace.

It's like to drive Daemon to madness

as he attempts to make use of it.

It is beyond his faculties.

It is also penniless, as I happily control all of its gold.

So, as Harrenhal saps Daemon's resolve,

the false queen remains trapped on her island,

and Ser Criston continues felling castles in the Crownlands.

Wh...

I need to be informed of these things

if I am to make informed rulings.

I will not be made to look a fool in front of

- my allies and enemies. - Harrenhal must wait.

Ser Criston is marching on Rook's Rest.

Rook's Re... A pathetic prize.

- I gave no such command... - The castle is small,

weakly defended,

and Lord Staunton sits on Rhaenyra's council.

After Cole smashes it,

we'll have Dragonstone effectively cut off by land.

This war will not be won with dragons alone,

but with dragons flying behind armies of men.

No! Have him turn about. I want Harrenhal back.

Cole is already preparing his attack.

Uh, how-how do you know this?

He sent word to me.

To you?

The two of you have been

plotting... without my authority?

Mm.

Mm.

Harrenhal is a useful morass.

It will keep Daemon well-occupied while we strengthen our host

and weaken Rhaenyra's support on the mainland.

We will deal with it in the Riverlands in time.

But right now. Rook's Rest is an easy target

and a worthy effort.

Don't you agree, my king?

Come.

Lord Larys.

I thought I'd look in on you, Your Grace,

after your absence from the small council.

I feared something was amiss.

You're kind to do so, my lord,

but indulgence was my sin.

I... ventured into the lamprey pie at last night's supper.

Too far, I fear.

Mm.

That is a rich indulgence.

But I believe it is a sin to deny your appetites.

They are what make us fully alive as mortal men.

Was anything of note discussed at the council?

Daemon having seized Harrenhal

and His Grace's resulting displeasure.

I would've thought you would be the most aggrieved, my lord.

I see it as a loss for our greater good.

Dragonstone's attentions are greatly divided.

First in the Riverlands and the Gullet, and now the Crownlands.

Ser Criston wins every challenge he faces there.

That truth alone is like to incite Rhaenyra's fury.

He's covered himself in glory, to be sure.

And you must worry for him?

Your sworn sword...

on the march,

ever exposed to dragons?

It is a perilous road.

Ser Criston is the Hand of the King.

We should all pray for his victory and safe return.

Indeed.

If I may be so bold, my queen...

you have not seemed yourself of late.

Only weeks ago, my lord husband was alive

and the realm was at peace.

Now, I've... barely had the hours to grieve one tragedy

before suffering the next.

I regret if I have not been myself.

Hm.

I did not know you shared your lord husband's love...

for the histories.

If not his love, then certainly an... an abiding interest.

The voices of history guided Viserys.

He knew that his wisdom alone

could only reach so far.

Do you think that is why he changed his mind...

in the end?

No matter how suited he thought Rhaenyra for the crown,

the, uh, voices of history, as you say,

would have told him how the realm would react

- to her succession. - It was impossible to know

what steered his thoughts in those final hours.

Do you now doubt his intentions?

Rhaenyra's supporters will believe what they wish.

And so will Aegon's.

The war will be fought, many will die...

and the victor will eventually ascend the throne.

The significance of Viserys's intentions died with him.

Yes, it did.

It's a touch late to be stalkin' about a strange castle,

putting its people to the sword.

You.

I'm called Alys.

Strong?

Rivers.

A bastard.

Once you get to know me, you'll find I'm not so bad.

So what are you then? Some kind of maester?

In a manner of speaking.

I inherited the duties after the last one fled in the night.

- Fled? Why? - Just never settled in.

How are you settling in?

I've come to know the face of tortured rest well enough.

Sleep can be... thin in this place.

What would you know of my sleep?

Harrenhal's been cursed since its first stone was laid.

Black Harren felled the grove of weirwood trees

that grew on these lands.

Heart trees, imbued with the spirits of those

who lived long before he came.

It's said their whispers

- can still be heard sometimes. - A midwife's tale.

Mm, the very bed you sleep in was made from such a heart tree.

Have you experienced anything... of note?

You are a strange kind of woman.

I'm no woman at all. I'm a barn owl.

Cursed to live in human form.

So, you've come here after quarreling with your wife?

What?

You arrive here alone to claim the castle

and yet, send no ravens.

Do you now plan to make your own claim?

- Perhaps to prove yourself to her. - Do not try me

with your insolence, witch.

It's a hard thing, I imagine, to give

obeisance to one who replaced you as heir.

And a woman too. A...

girl child you bounced on your knee.

I mean, does it please you that her legitimacy is contested?

As you stand here...

with a castle and a dragon...

attempting to draw an army of men.

Here. Drink this.

You'll need your sleep if you're to win this place to your side.

I now rule my house as regent

until my nephew Benjicot comes of age.

The Brackens are venal cravens,

and they must pay for their treachery

against the laws of gods and men.

And against the crown.

Who are you?

Ser Willem Blackwood of House Blackwood,

Your Grace, as I said.

Well met.

What might I do for you?

It was you who summoned me, Your Grace.

I was given to understand

that you wanted an army.

Well, who doesn't these days?

You Blackwoods certainly never miss a chance

to bloody your swords... do you?

Some 20 years ago,

my lord bent the knee to King Viserys

and acknowledged the Princess Rhaenyra as his rightful heir.

So you fight for this old oath?

Not, of course, for your thousand-year-old feud with the Brackens.

I once vied for Queen Rhaenyra's hand...

before she wed Ser Laenor.

I always liked her spirit.

She had the true blood of the dragon.

And you're prepared to march without the leave of your lord...

Your Grace?

And once you and your dragon

bring the queen's justice to the Brackens...

our armies will be yours.

Our lords in the Crownlands are grousing.

Their herds of livestock struggle to keep pace

with the dragons' relentless appetites.

- Vhagar's in particular. - They can either provide

the crown what it needs, or we can claim their holdings.

Oh, that would be a relief,

as we have no more coin to lend to the effort.

Resources are certainly growing no more plentiful

in the face of the blockade.

The demand on the blacksmiths, armorers and tanners

for equipment has only grown apace

with Ser Criston's army.

Well, Cole's done splendidly, at the least,

turning every castle and army he's faced,

including Duskendale, gods bless him.

The Kingmaker, they're calling him.

And with Aemond and Vhagar also at the ready,

we are a formidable opponent.

You bore me.

You all bore me.

Perhaps Ser Criston will be able to procure

more livestock through his campaign.

Any coin we can save will be a welcome bounty.

What are you doing here?

Where are your father's books?

I ordered them removed.

With no thought to the centuries

of knowledge in those pages.

Your Grace.

I removed them, I didn't burn them.

What is it?

They don't care what I think.

- Who, Aegon? - My council.

Cole. Aemond. They pursue their campaign

without seeking my aid, or even my thoughts.

What thoughts would you have?

Wh... I'm the king.

Do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom?

Those men at your council table...

earned their seats.

It was my hope that once enthroned,

you would honor the burden of your new duties,

be silent,

and strive to learn from the more studied minds around you.

In the hope that you might be half the king your father was.

- Tread carefully. - Or what?

You'll hang me, as you did your ratcatchers?

Or have me banished, as you did your Hand?

I ruled

in your father's absence throughout his long illness,

and Otto Hightower was as cunning a statesman as ever lived.

You should humbly be seeking our opinions and counsel.

You have no idea the sacrifices that were made

to put you on that throne.

Wha...

What would you have me do, Mother?

Do simply what is needed of you:

nothing.

On your feet!

To Rook's Rest!

To battle!

It's broad daylight.

We must hold here and ready ourselves to lay siege at nightfall.

We shall move now and strike by day.

They will not expect it.

They will not expect it

because it is fucking madness.

Did you forget the little encounter

we had on the road to Rosby?

I did not.

Dragonstone and their dragons are just across the bay.

What? Grown tired of living, have you?

Are you afraid, Ser?

Worse. I'm rational.

We advance.

I see no other choice.

- We need to send a dragon. - Where?

To support the war

that your vassals have been fighting in your absence...

Your Grace.

Cole's host has grown since riding abroad.

He raised the levies of both Rosby and Stokeworth

and, with their combined strength, sacked Duskendale.

Duskendale?

The city has fallen.

Many Darklyn men declared for Aegon.

Those who refused were put to the sword.

What of my father?

He kept his oath.

Cole took his head for it.

Where have you been, these last days?

You vanished without so much as a word.

Well, I apologize for my absence and the secrecy,

but such was necessary.

I went to King's Landing.

To what possible end?

To meet Queen Alicent and sue for peace.

- You saw Alicent? - Yes, I did.

You could've been taken or slain!

I inherited 80 years of peace from my father.

Before I was to end it,

I needed to know that there was no other path.

And now I do.

Only one choice remains to me:

either I win my claim or die.

We stand at the ready.

Cole's victories have only emboldened him.

He marches on Rook's Rest.

His host was just hours away

- when Lord Staunton's ravens took wing. - Why Rook's Rest?

After Duskendale?

It is but a small coastal keep.

'Cause Lord Staunton is a member of this council.

And because his castle is small

and vulnerable and there for the taking.

Cole knows we have no army on the mainland.

- He is brazen. - He is daring us to act.

We need to send a dragon.

There are those who have mistaken my caution for weakness.

Let that be their undoing.

- I will go. - My queen...

- You cannot. - I will not lose dragons to war

whilst I hide here in my castle.

Our allies raise their banners for you, Mother.

Yes, they do.

If you die, all is lost.

- Send me. - No.

I will burn Cole's lines and withdraw before King's Landing

- could even raise the alarm. - You lack the experience.

You must send me, Your Grace.

Meleys is your largest dragon

and no stranger to battle.

I will meet Cole.

I wish only to fight for you,

for your claim and mine.

I...

There's something I need to tell you, Jace.

Something... I should've told you

when you first became heir to the throne.

It's a secret that Viserys told me

when he named me his successor.

And it has passed from king to heir...

since Aegon the Conqueror's time.

I never told you because I was unsure

that I believed it myself.

The Targaryen who sits the Iron Throne

is not just a king or a queen.

They are a Protector.

Ordained to lead the Seven Kingdoms,

to strengthen them...

... and to unite them against a common foe.

Viserys chose me to succeed him.

He held to this the whole of his life.

My father believed that I, alone,

was meant to be this Protector.

They're 1,400-, 1,500-strong at least, my lord.

But to unite the realm,

I had to send the dragons to war.

The horrors I have just loosed cannot be for a crown alone.

That is why I must believe

what Viserys told me when he named me his heir.

What Jaehaerys had told him.

And what I will now tell you.

What is it?

Aegon the Conqueror's Dream.

He called it "The Song of Ice and Fire".

Loose! New rank!

Loose! New rank!

Loose! New rank!

Push it!

Dragon!

Dragon!

To the Seven Hells with you, Cole!

You may as well have sounded horns to announce our coming!

Order the Darklyn levies to break off and move ahead.

We must keep the dragon's attention divided.

- Make the signal. - What signal?

All is going to plan.

Forward, Sunfyre!

Faster!

Dragon!

Whose dragon is that?

His Grace, the king's.

This was your secret plot, Cole?

For the king himself to lay ambush

- and mayhaps die in the attempt?! - No!

Loose more signal arrows!

Stalwart men of House Targaryen,

your king has joined you!

Hold to your courage! Hold to your wits!

For the Seven have blessed and shielded

this host with divine purpose!

For the one true king, Aegon!

Advance!

Where are you, Aemond?

Dracarys!

Another one there!

Send a volley to those Rosby men!

Give them no quarter!

We'd best get you to cover, my lord.

Thank the gods!

Dracarys!

Ah!

No!

Your Grace!

Fall in behind me!

Into the breach!

The king has fallen. We must find him.

Aemond!

Where's His Grace?

- Synced and corrected by Firefly - - www.addic7ed.com -

Behold! The traitor dragon, Meleys.

Slain by King Aegon!

Is he alive?

We cannot challenge King's Landing

without the Riverlands.

Our terms are simple.

Bend the knee to me, or your house burns.

Daemon, you were made to wear a crown.

The king does not lack for heirs.

So, you cast me aside?

We have given the war to the dragons.

Will you preside over it?

The people whispered,

when Viserys lived, there was peace.

The path I walk has never been trod.

There is more than one way to fight a war.

What we must do now is terrible.

Cole is now a real problem

that's going to have to be dealt with in the Crownlands.

He's taken down Duskendale, and Rosby, and Darklyn,

and should be marching on Harrenhal

with the force that he's assembled.

Cole's victories have only emboldened him.

He marches on Rook's Rest.

Rook's Rest, it's a tiny coastal keep

right across the bay.

Rhaenyra seizes upon that...

There are those who have mistaken

my caution for weakness.

Let that be their undoing.

... and plays right into Cole's hand.

George always said about Daemon,

he's heroic and villainous in equal parts.

And that's what makes him fascinating as a character.

Part of Daemon's story at Harrenhal this season

is having to face and atone for the sins of his past.

Laena.

Dracarys!

Aemond...

who he probably had a hand, a bit, in his creation.

And very much young Rhaenyra.

Speak plainly.

It's a journey of discovery and unraveling,

and it's all beginning to make him become really unstuck.

Daemon is experiencing one of his core injuries.

This is the room that has caused him so much pain,

it's the seat that he's coveted for so long and was denied,

and then the little girl who stole it from him.

Before he knows it...

he exacts vengeance.

It's the blood of the dragon.

They're connected in such a deep way.

And the idea that he could harm her

is, you know, really alien.

He's still very closed to these intrusive visions,

but they start to break down

the very carefully constructed walls

that he's put up around himself.

Touch late to be stalking about a strange castle.

Alys Rivers is written about quite a bit in the book.

She's described as a kind of woods witch

that lives at Harrenhal,

has possibly been there for hundreds of years.

You don't really know immediately

whether she is what she says she is.

You are a strange kind of woman.

I'm no woman at all. I'm a barn owl,

cursed to live in human form.

She's not afraid of him,

and I think that he recognizes that,

and that's unusual for him.

Have you experienced anything of note?

She instills a sort of curiosity in Daemon.

What is she? Why is she here? Is she influencing me?

Am I beholden to her?

She understands things about him,

whether because she's just a good reader of people

or there's something else going on,

and she penetrates him in a way that I think fascinates him,

but also makes him very uncomfortable.

I think it's really up for debate

whether Alys is shaping Daemon's journey,

in terms of his kind of spiritual awakening,

or if he's doing that himself.

Ser Criston is marching on Rook's Rest.

The two of you have been plotting

without my authority.

I love scenes that involve Valyrian.

It's a real language for us.

And the fact there are people who speak it at different levels

becomes part of their character.

Aemond in this scene is still furious at

his humiliation at the brothel.

Aemond and Aegon both, of course,

learned High Valyrian as children.

It's just that Aemond paid a little more attention to it.

That scene is a public execution, in a way.

Only him and Aegon can understand.

It's a public shaming.

He's aware that everyone else

is feeling certain resentment towards him,

but then when Aemond does it,

that really breaks a bit of his heart off.

If there's one rule to take away

from House of the Dragon, don't laugh at Aemond.

Bad things happen to you.

They don't care what I think.

Alicent's just come off of this near-assassination attempt

with her head spinning,

wondering whether she misinterpreted

what Viserys's final words were.

And then she comes back home and sees Aegon just, you know,

stomping around and ranting like a petulant teenager.

My council, Cole, Aemond, they pursue their campaign

without seeking my aid or even my thoughts.

Contrary to many people's beliefs,

Aegon is a very sensitive individual.

He wants his mom's love. He wants his mom's validation.

He wants her to believe in him.

Alicent can coat her words in honey a little bit more

to Aegon, if she chooses.

But the tension is bubbling.

Do you think simply wearing the crown

imbues you with wisdom?

She's lost a bit of the composure

that you're used to seeing in Alicent,

and she simply tells him, you know,

you need to do what's needed of you, which is...

Nothing.

And it's the most devastating, most demeaning,

belittling thing that she could have said to her son

in that moment.

It's the first time we see Alicent point-blank

tell him everything that he can't hear.

Especially the way, how fragile he is at that time, too.

And how he's just becoming more and more naked

and more and more alone.

And that's one of the final straws for him,

I think, before he fully, fully spirals.

The thing that everybody has warned Rhaenyra against is,

"You're the queen, you're the sovereign,

you cannot ride to battle".

Aegon has just muscled everybody out of the way

and decided to ride into the battle

to prove that he was just as much a man

as Cole and his brother.

Cole has arrived with his forces.

He's facing a tiny keep that can't hope to win.

Rook's Rest is really not

a significant strategic advantage.

Why would Cole take that risk?

He never intends or cares about the keep.

He's there to draw out a dragon.

You must send me, Your Grace.

I will meet Cole.

Rhaenys chooses to step in,

having said for the whole season,

"We mustn't use dragons. Anything but using dragons".

If it has to be done, if this action has to be taken,

then it's better that she does it

than anybody else.

Ultimately, she is expendable, where Rhaenyra is not.

What should be a small campaign to take a small keep

turns into a kind of watershed moment.

Dragon!

The first act of full-on dragon conflict.

All bets are off. All order is gone.

Whatever you thought was important on the battlefield

doesn't matter at all.

It's basically just a collateral damage site

because the real battle is going on over your heads.

Aegon has arrived as the fly in the ointment, so to speak.

It's changed the strategy.

Now, Vhagar and Cole have to contend with the fact

that the King is in the fray,

and they have to protect the King.

Dracarys!

Thank the gods!

Dracarys!

The question it raises, did he seize an opportunity

where he could take two players off the board,

or was Aegon just collateral?

When he's plummeting to the earth

after being hit by a ball of fire,

all of his fears of Aemon's betrayal...

... come true.

Your Grace!

Of all the people affected by this,

Cole is the one who's most slammed by it

because it was his plan.

Cole has been in battle before.

He's seen people die.

He's seen people crushed beneath horses.

And so Cole had to be particularly touched

by the distinct and specific nature of dragon war

and how insignificant it made soldiers

like him on the battlefield.

He's playing chess and messing with things

he can barely get his head around.

It's the sort of moral loss by his own actions.

Cole is responsible for the worst possible thing

that could have happened.

I think it's a Pyrrhic victory for both sides.

We lose Rhaenys,

one of Rhaenyra's most trusted counselors.

We don't really know the condition

of Sunfyre or Aegon.

You just have to regard it as a great emblem, an example

of how horrible and awful dragon war is

and the reason that it needs to be waged

with great restraint.