All language subtitles for House.of_.the_.Dragon.S01E02.1080p.WEB_.H264-CAKES

Ser Ryam was a strong lord commander
of the Kings guard,

but he was ill for some time.

- He passed in peace, I hope.
- Yes, Your Grace.

He was found to have passed gently
in his sleep.

His remains are being prepared
by the Silent Sisters.

The succeeding Lord Commander, Ser Harrold

would like to make haste in finding
Ser Ryam's replacement on the Kings guard.

Your Grace, my lords,
Kings guard must soon

be restored to its full
complement of seven.

With the help of the Hand, I have invited
a number of fine candidates to court.

All have passed fair trials.

Four ships have now been lost.
The last one was flying my banner.

The Step stones have now
grown into a conflagration.

Yet you sit here and dither
about court business.

If you've something to discuss,
Lord Corlys...

I want to know what is to be done
about my ships and my men.

The crown will compensate you
for your ship and crew

and make an offering
to the men's families.

I don't want compensation.

I want to seize the Step stones by force
and burn out this Crabfeeder.

I am not prepared to start a war
with the Free Cities.

These pirates are not the Free Cities.

Who do you think provides them
with their ships and tender?

In all of its history, my lord,

the Seven Kingdoms have never entered
open war with the Free Cities.

Were that to happen,
the losses would be incalculable.

What reason does the Crabfeeder
have to fear us?

The king's own brother has been allowed
to seize Dragons tone

and fortify it
with an army of his gold cloaks.

Daemon has squatted there for over half a
year without even a protest from the crown.

I'll caution you, Lord Corlys:

a seat at the king's table
does not make you his equal.

I have acted, Corlys.

I've sent envoys to Pentos and Volantis
to see if we might find common cause.

Ships and men are at the ready.

The Step stones will be settled. In time.

You have dragon riders, father.

Send us.

It isn't that simple, Rhaenyra.

- It would be a show of force.
- At least the princess has a plan.

I only meant that we should at least...

Perhaps there's some better use
for the princess's talents, Your Grace

Why don't you take the
princess to see about

the new Kings guard
posting, Lord Commander?

A fine idea, Your Grace.

This knight will protect you as well.
You should choose.

Ser Desmond Car on,
a fine knight, princess.

Step forward, Ser Desmond.

Son of Ser Royce Car on,

Ser Desmond has proved strong and steady
in both the tourney lists and without.

While traveling through the Kings wood
on his way to King's Landing,

Ser Desmond recently brought
a would-be poacher to justice.

You might thank him
for his leal service, princess.

We thank you for your loyal service
to the crown, Ser

Ser Rymun Mallister.

Son of Lord Lymond Mallister of Seagard.

Winner of the melee of Cider Hall,

he was the last mounted of three
and-twenty knights.

Ser Rymun was knighted at eight-and-ten.

Have any of these knights
have combat experience?

Beyond capturing poachers.

Ser Criston Cole.

Son of the steward
of the Lord of Blackhaven.

Be welcome, Ser Criston.

You saw combat in the Storm lands?

Dornish Marches, princess.

I fought for a year as a foot-soldier
against the Dornish incursions.

Ser Arlan Dondarrion knighted me

after we razed two of the watchtowers
along the Boneway.

I choose Ser Criston Cole.

Let's not be too hasty, princess.

There's no doubt Ser Criston
is a fine warrior,

but houses such as Crakehalls and Mallister
are important allies of the crown.

Seagard, for instance,

is the realm's prime defense
against reavers from the Iron Islands.

Those men are tourney knights.

My father should be defended by a man
who's known real combat.

Should he not?

Of course, princess

Well, let us plan Ser Criston's
investiture then.

The Valyrian capitol was built into
a volcano, much like Dragons tone.

When the dragon lords,
the highest of the nobility lived here,

at the volcanic face,

closest to the source
of their magic and power.

And this was the Anogrion
where the blood mages worked their craft.

- It is truly wondrous what you've built.
- Oh, no.

I only pore over the histories
and provide the plans.

The stonemasons build the structures.

Do you believe that Westeros
can be another Valyria, Your Grace?

That depends whether you speak of
the Freehold at its height or at its fall.

Over a thousand dragons, a navy large
enough to span the seas of the world.

The glory of Old Valyria
will never be seen again.

Seven Hells.

- Tell me, how is Rhaenyra?
- What do you mean?

Well, these days, she doesn't say
more than a few words to me.

I think she might find it difficult
to discuss personal matters.

It will take time.

It did when I lost mine own mother.

I wish she would approach me.

What if you went to her?

There are times when I would rather
face the Black Dread himself

than mine own daughter of fifteen.

I think she would open herself to you
if invited.

You do have such an easy way
about you, Your Grace.

You do not mention our talks
to Rhaenyra, do you?

I just... I fear that she wouldn't
understand them.

No, Your Grace

It's only been half a year
since my mother died.

But already, they tried to marry
my father off and replace me as heir.

I know those men and how they plot

in their secret councils
when I've been sent away.

You cannot worry at the matters
of lords and kings, Rhaenyra.

And what if your father were to remarry?

Your father loves you.

He chose you for his heir.

He didn't choose me. He spurned Daemon.

Kneel with me.

I find this is a way to be with my mother.

Here in the quiet of the Sept,
I feel close to her.

- I know it sounds foolish.
- I don't think it's foolish.

- I don't.
- Good.

Because I thought you might try.

- I...
- If not for me, then perhaps for them.

What do I say?

Whatever you wish.
It's only for you and the gods to know.

I want him to see me as more
than his little girl.

Mine own father does not know
the language of girls either.

When I wish to talk with him,
I know that I must make the effort.

Thank you.

- Your Grace.
- I'm glad we could meet.

I know tempers ran hot today,

but I wanted to assure you how much
I value the bond between our houses.

Rhaenys is my favorite cousin, after all.

I wish to apologize for the tenor
at the small council today, Your Grace.

It was not my intent to make offense.

Your fleet is one of the realm's
most important assets, Lord Corlys.

But you must understand,
as king, it is my obligation to avoid war

until such time it is unavoidable.

None among us desire open war.

Might I speak plainly, Your Grace?

I always welcome the unfettered thoughts
of my council.

I fear that the eyes of our enemies
are presently fixed on the Red Keep.

The queen has passed.

A girl has been named heir to the
Iron Throne; the first in its history.

The king's brother so disinherited,

has claimed the Targaryen seat
on Dragons tone without challenge.

And now, a foreign power has established a
colony in our most critical shipping lane.

You paint such an aspirant portrait
of my reign, Lord Corlys.

It is an honest one, cousin.

At the moment, the crown is perceived
as being vulnerable.

And a blind incursion in the Step stones

is the only way to demonstrate
that we are not?

To elude a storm, you can either
sail into it or around it.

But you must never await its coming.

Do you have a specific course of action
to propose, my lord?

Join our families.

Wed our daughter, Laena. Unite the
two great surviving Valyrian houses.

With the Targaryen dragons
and the Velaryon fleet bound in blood,

you can show the realm that the crown's
strongest days are ahead, not behind.

I must admit, I haven't given marriage
much thought.

It hasn't even been half a year
since Aemma passed.

The realm expects you to take a new wife
soon or late, Your Grace,

to strengthen your line
and produce more heirs.

You could not ask for a stronger match
than Laena.

We haven't spoken much, since...

A regret of mine.

We should be free to speak our minds
to one another.

You can say whatever you'd like.
You are the king.

I loved your mother very much.

As did I.

Ser Harrold provided a fine field
of tourney knights.

Oh?

But in questioning them,
I discovered that Ser Criston

was the only man among them
with true battle experience.

He will make a fine
knight of the Kings guard.

- Today at the small council...
- Pay it no mind.

- I thought I might have had some insight...
- You're young.

You will learn.

This is our best chance to save the digit,
Your Grace

The maggots will remove the dead flesh and,
hopefully, stop the advance of the rot.

I held an audience earlier today
with Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys.

That was most charitable
of you, Your Grace.

I'm Sure Lord Corlys appreciated
the spirit of it.

He proposed a marriage.

- To whom, Your Grace?
- The Lady Laena.

To combine the strength of our houses

and demonstrate my reign's strongest days
are ahead, not behind.

Lord Corlys has overreached, Your Grace.

Such matters must be discussed
with the small council.

That is what I am doing, presently.

So, what is your advice, dear Otto?

The Lady Laena is young, Your Grace.

Indeed. But the wounds made
by the Great Council still linger, My King.

A match with their daughter would go
a long way towards sealing the breach,

and uniting the two great Valyrian houses

would certainly signal unity
throughout the realm and beyond.

The Grand Maester's reasoning is sound.

I do fear what Rhaenyra might think.

What does it matter, Your Grace?

Her mother has passed;
her father must propagate the royal line.

I dearly loved my own lady wife.

The pain of her passing still haunts me.

And to be compelled to replace her,
for duty's sake...

You are the king, but I do not envy you.

What was it like flying the Black Dread?

You were Balerion's last rider.

Only for a short time. Before he died.

With Balerion died the last memory
of Valyria of Old.

But Vhagar still lives. Somewhere.

But too large for the Dragon pit.

Some would say too large for our world.

- Do you know where she nests?
- I'm sorry?

Do you know where Vhagar is now?

Uh, the Dragon keepers believe she made home
somewhere on the coast of the Narrow Sea.

The workers at Spicetown
report hearing her song at times.

They say it is a sad thing.

I imagine even dragons get lonely.

Your Grace?

It would be a great honor to join our
houses as they were in Old Valyria.

I would give you many children
of pure Valyrian blood

so that we might strengthen
the royal line and the realm.

Is that what your father told you to say?

What did your mother tell you?

That I wouldn't have to bed you
until I turn fourteen.

It bothers you, does it not?

My father is a king.

It is his duty to take a new wife
and strengthen his line.

I did not ask for a lesson in politics.
I asked whether this bothers you.

Laena is your daughter, princess.
Does it bother you?

Of course it does.

But I understand the order of things.

I'm not sure you do.

If you mean to elicit some anger from me,

you should know
that you are failing, princess.

Quite the opposite.

Whether it is to my daughter
or to someone else's,

your father will remarry sooner than late.

His new wife will produce new heirs,

and chances are better than not
that one of those will be male.

And when that boy comes of age
and your father has passed,

the men of the realm will expect him
to be heir, not you.

Because that is the order of things.

When I'm queen, I will create a new order.

How I wish that could be, Rhaenyra.

But the men of the realm
already had their opportunity

to appoint a ruling queen at the
Great Council and they denied it.

They denied you, Princess Rhaenys.

"The Queen Who Never Was."

But they bent the knee to me
and called me "heir to the throne."

Do you remind your father's men of that
as you carry their cups?

Here is the hard truth which
no one else has the heart to tell you:

Men would sooner put the realm
to the torch

than see a woman
ascend the Iron Throne.

And your father is no fool.

The small council is urging me to remarry.

It seems the realm wants for a new queen.

A good and kind queen
will give comfort to your subjects.

Does the small council
have a particular lady in mind?

Lord Corlys Velaryon has offered
the hand of his daughter,

the Lady Laena.

A very strong match, Your Grace.

I must admit.
I don't know Laena very well.

I'm sure that she is good and kind
and that she will enjoy your company.

As I have, Your Grace.

I brought you something.

I asked the stonemasons to mend it.

This is a very kind gesture, Alicent.

Very kind.

Come.

The Hand, Your Grace

Your Grace, I have called the small council
to an emergency session.

Why?

I think it best you hear it directly.

Very well.

- Daemon?
- The prince left a missive

which I believe might explain.

"It is the pleasure of Daemon Targaryen,
the Prince of Dragons tone"

"and rightful heir to the Iron Throne,"

"to announce that he is to take a second
wife in the tradition of Old Valyria."

"She is to assume the title
Lady Mysaria of Dragons tone."

"Her Grace is with child
and is to have a dragon's egg"

"placed in the babe's cradle
in the custom of House Targaryen."

The Prince has invited you
to his wedding, Your Grace.

- It is in two days' time.
- Gods be good.

Who is Lady Mysaria?

- We believe...
- Daemon's whore.

- This is nothing less than sedition.
- I strongly agree, sire.

My brother wishes to provoke me.

- To answer is to give him what he wants.
- The realm is watching, Your Grace.

What would you have me do?
Send him to the Wall?

Perhaps could put his head on a spike.

Daemon has seized Dragons tone,

has surrounded himself
with an army of Gold Cloaks,

and has now stolen a dangerous weapon.

"Which egg, Elder?"

Assemble a detachment, Otto.

I will go to Dragons tone
and drag Daemon back

- to face justice myself.
- Your Grace.

My apologies, Your Grace,
but I cannot allow it. It's too dangerous.

Daemon is without limit.

Let me go to Dragons tone.

You're the most comely girl at court.

Why do you destroy yourself?

Hmm?

Will you see the king tonight?

If you wish it.

- Good day, Ser Criston.
- My lady.

I've assembled twenty of your
best household guards, my Lord Hand.

Ser Harrold will also join us.

Please look after the Hand, Ser Criston.

Welcome to Dragons tone, Otto.

Your occupation of
this island is at an end.

You are to relinquish the dragon's egg,
disband your "army,"

banish your whore,

and leave Dragons tone,
by order of His Grace, King Visery...

Where is the king? I don't see him.

His Grace would never lower himself
to entertain such a mummer's farce.

Ser Crispin, wasn't it?

- Ser Criston Cole, my prince.
- Ah, yes. Apologies. I couldn't recall.

Perhaps my prince recalls
when I knocked him off his horse?

- Very good.
- This is a truly pathetic show, Daemon.

Are you so desperate
for the king's attention

that you've resorted to skulking about
like a common cut purse?

I'm simply keeping with the traditions
of my house.

The same as my brother did for his heir.

Those traditions
are for the true-born children of royalty,

not for bastards
fathered on a common whore.

- Lady Mysaria is to be my wife.
- This is an abomination.

With every breath, you soil your name,
your house and your brother's reign.

Our love does not
know titles and traditions.

And what of you, men of the City Watch,
aiding the prince in his treason?

The king made me their commander.
They are loyal to me.

You've come for the egg. Here it is.

Are you mad? You'd never survive this.

Well, happily, neither would you.

To choose violence here
is to declare war against your king.

Wonderful.

Even if it ends in the death
of your unborn child and its mother?

All of you, sheathe the fucking steel!

- What are you doing here, princess?
- Preventing bloodshed.

Ser Criston, please escort the princess
to safety.

Take care not to startle Syrax, my lords.
She is rather protective of me.

I'm right here, uncle.

The object of your ire.
The reason that you were disinherited.

If you wish to be restored as heir,
you'll need to kill me.

So do it, and be done with all this bother.

You announced that we were to be wed?

On the morrow.

And that I was with child? Your child?

Well, perhaps when we are wed,
we can make that true.

I ensured long ago that would never
be threatened by childbirth.

Good. Children can be such
irritating creatures.

You swore to protect me, Daemon.

Dragons tone is quite secure.

Until the king decides to reclaim
his ancestral seat.

His men might not put the prince's head
on a spike,

but what would they do
with the "common whore"

he claims he's taken to wife
and made with child?

No one will harm you.

I have been sold as property
more times than I care to count,

beginning in a homeland
I can no longer recall.

Most of my years have been spent
living in terror.

- You're safe with me. I swear it.
- You are a Targaryen.

You can afford to play
your stupid games with the king.

But I cannot.

I didn't come into your service
wanting gold or power or station.

- I came to you to be liberated.
- Liberated?

- From what?
- Fear.

No, please, Lord Lyonel.

I have come
looking for an unencumbered opinion.

That's all I would ever give, Your Grace

Ever since my name was read
by the archmaesters at the Great Council,

I have felt Corlys Velaryon's envious gaze
staring at me

from across the Blackwater.

You sit upon the highest seat
in the realm, Your Grace.

Proud men don't like having to look up.

Laena Velaryon.

Lord Corlys is your master of ships.

And she is the eldest daughter
of the wealthiest house in the realm.

She comes from unimpeachable
Valyrian stock,

and she has Targaryen blood.
What's to mislike?

- She's twelve.
- She will mature.

I never asked to remarry.

As king, you have a claim on all things,
even those you don't want.

Marriage is not an obligation
you can put off for long.

What if was to reject
Lord Corlys's proposal?

He would not be like to take it well.

I fear nothing short of a direct line
to the Iron Throne would satisfy him.

You should also consider
that we find ourselves

on the precipice of war
in the Step stones.

And the Sea Snake holds claim to
nearly half the realm's ships.

He would not dare withhold them
in the face of the realm's need.

- Who is he to hector me?
- No one, Your Grace.

But Driftmark makes for a better ally
than it does an enemy.

The Sea Snake has made a calculated reach
a fair play for a man of his position.

If you truly want my
"unencumbered opinion"...

I do.

You should wed Laena Velaryon, Your Grace.

Sate Lord Corlys and fix him at your side,
permanently, as an ally.

Your Grace. The princess
has returned from Dragons tone.

Dragons tone?

Your Grace.

You disobeyed me.
You fled King's Landing without a word.

And you acted without the crown's leave.

You're my only heir,
you could have been killed!

May I sit?

You went to Dragons tone.

And retrieved the egg without bloodshed.

A feat I'm not sure Ser Otto
could have accomplished alone.

Yes. Well...

I sometimes forget how alike you both were.

Your mother's absence is a wound
that will never heal.

Without her, the Red Keep has lost a warmth
that I daresay it will never recover.

It pleases me to hear you say this.

To know that I'm not alone in my grief.

I wish I had known better
what to say to you in the aftermath.

I struggled to realize that my daughter
had so quickly become a woman-grown.

But I know she understands
what is now expected of me.

The king must take a new wife.

I could never replace your mother.

No more than intend to replace you as heir.

But you are my only heir. And our
line is vulnerable, too easily ended.

And by marrying again, I may begin
to ensure that we are better defended.

- Against whom?
- Whomever may dare to challenge us.

I do not wish to make us estranged.

You are the king,
and so your first duty is to the realm.

Mother would have understood this...
just as I do.

It is little surprise. The iron
Islands follow no law but their own.

We should levy a tax.

You cannot solve every problem
in the realm with a tax, Lyman.

I disagree. A well-aimed tax
can be stronger than an army.

I propose we move our gold to Braavos,
Grand Maester,

before Beesbury taxes it into dust.

Good morrow, my lords.

I have decided to take a new wife.

I intend to marry...

the Lady Alicent High tower
before spring's end.

This is an absurdity.

My house is Valyrian;
the greatest power in the realm.

And I am your king.

Rhaenyra.

House Velaryon's origins
reach back to Old Valyria.

More ancient even than the House Targaryen,

according to some texts.

But unlike the Targaryens,
we were no dragon lords.

For centuries, my house had to scratch out
an existence from the sea

with grit and luck.

When I ascended the Driftwood Throne,
I knew what I wanted.

So I went out and seized it.

Unlike every other lord of the realm,
I can say that I built my House's high seat

with the strength of mine own back.

I've always thought of you and I
as having been made from the same cloth.

I wasn't aware that you had a king
for a brother.

We're both men who have had
to cut our own way through the world.

We've been passed over. Too often.

Did you call me to Driftmark to remind
me of my low standing, Lord Corlys?

Or was there some other reason?

You've heard of the troubles
in the Step stones?

"Some Myrish prince is feeding
Westerosi sailors to the crabs."

"I have been petitioning the king
to send my navy into the territory."

But he has denied me.

- It never was my brother's strongest trait.
- What?

Being king.

"The Crabfeeder is backed by
powerful entities within the Free Cities"

"who wish to see Westeros weakened."

"And the king's failures have allowed him
to accumulate strength."

If those shipping lanes fall,
my house will be crippled.

And I will not have Driftmark beggared

while our king idles himself
with feasts and balls and tourneys.

I will speak of my brother as wish.

You will not.

Waiting in the Step
stones is a chance for you

to prove your worth
to any who might yet doubt it.

We are the realm's second sons, Daemon.

Our worth is not given; it must be made.

Subtitled by: Tarjama LTD
Amman - Jordan