All language subtitles for Game-of-Thrones - S7E3 - The-Queen-s-Justice

I wish you all
the happiness in the world.

Myrcella?

Myrcella?

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Kill us!

I may have found a way
to treat Ser Jorah.

Please try not to scream.

This is Brandon Stark.

Son of Ned Stark.

Let's get them inside.

For decades,
House Lannister

has been
the true power in Westeros,

and the feat of that power
is Casterly Rock.

Grey Worm and the Unsullied
will sail for the Rock,

and take it.

Summon Jon Snow.

He would make
a valuable ally.

Let him stand before you
and tell you the things

that have happened to him.

Dragonstone sits
on a mountain of dragonglass.

We can never hope to defeat
the army of the dead alone.

We need allies.

You're abandoning your people!
You're abandoning your home.

Until I return,
the North is yours.

The bastard
of Winterfell.

The dwarf
of Casterly Rock.

I believe we last saw
each other atop the Wall.

You were pissing off the edge
if I remember right.

Picked up some scars
along the road.

It's been a long road,
but we're both still here.

I'm Tyrion Lannister.

- Davos Seaworth.
- Ah, the Onion Knight.

We fought on opposite sides at
the Battle of Blackwater Bay.

Unluckily for me.

Missandei is the queen's
most trusted advisor.

Welcome to Dragonstone.

Our queen knows
it is a long journey.

She appreciates the efforts
you have made on her behalf.

If you wouldn't mind
handing over your weapons.

Of course.

Please, this way.

Where are you from?

I can't place
the accent.

I was born on
the Island of Naath.

Ah. I hear it's
beautiful down there.

Palm trees
and butterflies.

Haven't been, myself.

This place has changed.

- And Sansa?
- I hear she's alive and well.

- She is.
- Does she miss me terribly?

A sham marriage.
And unconsummated.

- I didn't ask.
- Well, it was. Wasn't.

Anyway...

she's much smarter
than she lets on.

She's starting
to let on.

Good.

At some point,

I want to hear how a Night's Watch
recruit became King in the North.

As long as you tell me
how a Lannister

became Hand
to Daenerys Targaryen.

A long
and bloody tale.

To be honest,
I was drunk for most of it.

My bannermen think
I'm a fool for coming here.

Of course they do.

If I was your Hand, I would
have advised against it.

General rule of thumb--

Stark men don't fare well
when they travel south.

True...

but I'm not a Stark.

I'd say you get
used to them...

but you never
really do.

Come, their mother
is waiting for you.

I wondered why you weren't
there to meet our guests.

You begged us to summon
the King in the North.

Don't you want
to see him again?

I've done my part.

I've brought
ice and fire together.

Strange.

You spoke so highly
of Jon Snow,

but when he arrives,
you hide on a cliff.

I didn't take you
for a bashful girl.

My time whispering in the ears
of kings has come to an end.

Oh, I doubt that.

Give us common folk
one taste of power,

we're like the lion
who tasted man.

Nothing is ever
so sweet again.

Neither of us
is common folk anymore.

I did not part
on good terms

with the King in the North
or his advisor.

Why?

Because of
mistakes I made.

Terrible mistakes.

I would only be
a distraction if I stayed.

- So, where will you go?
- Volantis.

Good.

If you don't mind
my saying,

I don't think you should
return to Westeros.

I'm not sure
you'd be safe here.

Oh, I will return,
dear Spider.

- One last time.
- My lady--

I have to die
in this strange country.

Just like you.

You stand in the presence

of Daenerys Stormborn
of House Targaryen,

rightful heir
to the Iron Throne,

rightful Queen of the Andals
and the First Men,

Protector
of the Seven Kingdoms,

the Mother of Dragons,

the Khaleesi
of the Great Grass Sea,

the Unburnt,
the Breaker of Chains.

This is Jon Snow.

He's King
in the North.

Thank you for traveling
so far, my lord.

I hope the seas
weren't too rough.

The winds were kind,
Your Grace.

Apologies, I have a Flea
Bottom accent, I know,

but Jon Snow is King in
the North, Your Grace.

- He's not a lord.
- Forgive me--

Your Grace, this is
Ser Davos Seaworth.

Forgive me,
Ser Davos.

I never did receive
a formal education,

but I could have
sworn I read

the last King in the
North was Torrhen Stark,

who bent the knee to my
ancestor, Aegon Targaryen.

In exchange for his life
and the lives of the Northmen,

Torrhen Stark swore fealty to
House Targaryen in perpetuity.

Or do I have
my facts wrong?

I wasn't there,
Your Grace.

No, of course not.

But still,
an oath is an oath.

And perpetuity means--

what does perpetuity mean,
Lord Tyrion?

Forever.

Forever.

So I assume, my lord...

...you're here
to bend the knee.

I am not.

Oh.

Well, that is
unfortunate.

You've traveled
all this way

to break faith
with House Targaryen?

Break faith?

Your father burned
my grandfather alive.

He burned
my uncle alive.

He would have burned
the Seven Kingdoms--

My father...
was an evil man.

On behalf
of House Targaryen...

I ask your forgiveness

for the crimes he committed
against your family.

And I ask you
not to judge a daughter

by the sins
of her father.

Our two houses
were allies for centuries,

and those were
the best centuries

the Seven Kingdoms
have ever known.

Centuries of peace
and prosperity

with a Targaryen
sitting on the Iron Throne

and a Stark serving
as Warden of the North.

I am the last Targaryen,
Jon Snow.

Honor the pledge
your ancestor made to mine.

Bend the knee and I will name
you Warden of the North.

Together, we will
save this country

from those
who would destroy it.

You're right.

You're not guilty
of your father's crimes.

And I'm not beholden
to my ancestor's vows.

Then why are you here?

Because I need your help,
and you need mine.

Did you see
three dragons

flying overhead
when you arrived?

I did.

And did you see
the Dothraki,

all of whom have sworn
to kill for me?

They're hard to miss.

- But still, I need your help?
Not to defeat Cersei.

You could storm King's Landing
tomorrow and the city would fall.

Hell, we almost took it and
we didn't even have dragons.

- Almost.
- But you haven't stormed King's Landing.

Why not?

The only reason
I can see

is you don't want to kill
thousands of innocent people.

It's the fastest way
to win the war,

but you won't do it,

which means,
at the very least,

you're better
than Cersei.

Still, that doesn't explain
why I need your help.

Because right now, you and I
and Cersei and everyone else,

we're children
playing at a game,

screaming that
the rules aren't fair.

- You told me you liked this man.
- I do.

In the time since he's met me,
he's refused to call me queen,

he's refused to bow, and now
he's calling me a child.

I believe he's calling all of us children.
Figure of speech.

Your Grace, everyone you know
will die before winter's over

if we don't defeat
the enemy to the north.

As far as I can see, you are
the enemy to the north.

I am not your enemy.

The dead
are the enemy.

The dead?

Is that another
figure of speech?

The Army of the Dead
is on the march.

The Army of the Dead?

You don't know me well, my lord,

but do you think
I'm a liar or a madman?

No, I don't think
you're either of those things.

The Army of the Dead
is real.

The white walkers
are real.

The Night King is real.
I've seen them.

If they get
past the Wall

and we're squabbling
amongst ourselves...

we're finished.

I was born
at Dragonstone.

Not that I can
remember it.

We fled before Robert's
assassins could find us.

Robert was your father's
best friend, no?

I wonder if your father knew
his best friend sent assassins

to murder a baby girl
in her crib.

Not that it matters now,
of course.

I spent my life
in foreign lands.

So many men
have tried to kill me,

I don't remember
all their names.

I have been sold
like a broodmare.

I've been chained
and betrayed,

raped and defiled.

Do you know
what kept me standing

through all those years
in exile?

Faith.

Not in any gods,

not in myths
and legends.

In myself.

In Daenerys Targaryen.

The world hadn't seen
a dragon in centuries

until my children
were born.

The Dothraki hadn't
crossed the sea, any sea.

They did for me.

I was born to rule
the Seven Kingdoms,

and I will.

You'll be ruling
over a graveyard

if we don't defeat
the Night King.

The war against my sister
has already begun.

You can't expect us
to halt hostilities

and join you
in fighting

whatever you saw
beyond the Wall.

You don't believe him.

I understand that.
It sounds like nonsense.

But if destiny has brought Daenerys
Targaryen back to our shores,

it has also made Jon Snow
King in the North.

You were the first to bring
Dothraki to Westeros?

He is the first to make allies
of wildlings and Northmen.

He was named Lord Commander
of the Night's Watch.

He was named
King in the North.

Not because
of his birthright.

He has no birthright.
He's a damn bastard.

All those hard sons of bitches
chose him as their leader

because they
believe in him.

All those things
you don't believe in,

he faced
those things.

He fought those things
for the good of his people.

He risked his life
for his people.

He took a knife in the
heart for his people.

He gave his own--

If we don't put aside our
enmities and band together,

we will die.

And then it doesn't matter whose
skeleton sits on the Iron Throne.

If it doesn't matter,
then you might as well kneel.

Swear your allegiance
to Queen Daenerys,

help her to defeat
my sister,

and together, our armies
will protect the North.

There's no time
for that.

There's no time
for any of this!

While we stand here,
debating--

It takes no time
to bend the knee.

Pledge your sword
to her cause.

And why
would I do that?

I mean no offense,
Your Grace,

but I don't know you.

As far as I can tell,

your claim to the throne rests
entirely on your father's name,

and my own father fought
to overthrow the Mad King.

The lords of the North

placed their trust
in me to lead them,

and I will continue to
do so as well as I can.

That's fair.

It's also fair
to point out

that I'm the rightful
Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

By declaring yourself king
of the northernmost kingdom,

you are in
open rebellion.

Your Grace, please
dismiss your guests.

I have grave news.

You must forgive
my manners.

You'll both be tired
after your long journey.

We'll have baths drawn for you
and supper sent to your rooms.

Am I your prisoner?

Not yet.

Our ironborn
and Dornish allies

were attacked
en route to Dorne.

- And?
- Two or three ships escaped,

the rest,
sunk or captured.

Ellaria and the Sand Snakes,
dead or captured.

The Greyjoys,
dead or captured.

All of them?

- Pull!
- Heave!

Pull!

Your sister's dead?

Euron has her.

You saw him take her?

- But you got away?
- I couldn't save her.

I tried.

You wouldn't be here
if you tried.

Come, men!

Sails up!

Murderer!

Whores!

Traitor!

This is the life.

Look at them,
cheering for a Greyjoy.

I have to be honest,

this is making me hard.

Did you see
Little Theon's face

right before
he jumped overboard?

"Oh, no!"

What a twat.

- Whore! Whore! Whore!
- Murderers!

My queen, please
accept this gift

on behalf of all of your loyal
subjects in the Iron Islands.

I give you what no
other man could give--

justice.

Justice for your
murdered daughter.

You've proven yourself the greatest
captain on the fourteen seas

and a true friend
to the crown.

You deserve more
than a true friend.

And you deserve a proper
reward for your heroism.

There's only
one reward I want.

You shall have
what your heart desires...

when the war is won.

With Euron Greyjoy
commanding our naval forces

and Jaime Lannister
leading our armies,

the sons and daughters
of Westeros

shall defend our country.

There's nothing quite
like it, is there?

The love of the people.

Though I suppose
you wouldn't know.

This same mob spat at
my sister not long ago.

And if you turn
on us,

they'll cheer to see your
head mounted on a spike.

Or yours.

They just like
severed heads, really.

Listen, if you have
any advice at all,

I would love to hear it.

When we have an hour or two
to speak as brothers.

Advice?

Does she like it
gentle or rough?

A finger in the bum?

Shh, shh, shh, shh, not now.
We'll talk later.

I want you to know
I understand.

Even though we're
enemies, you and I,

I understand the fury
that drives you.

I was there that day

when Ser Gregor crushed
your lover's head.

If I close my eyes,

- I can hear the sound
of Oberyn's skull breaking.

The sound
of your scream.

I never heard
a sound like that.

I thought,
"That's true love."

Oberyn looked beautiful that day.
He really did.

No one moved like him.

No one had such skill
with a spear.

Even Ser Gregor
couldn't stop him.

If only he hadn't
taunted him.

He could've walked away and
left poor Ser Gregor to die.

But that wasn't
your lover's way, was it?

Now he's buried
somewhere.

And here's Ser Gregor,
stronger than ever.

That must be
difficult for you.

When my daughter
was taken from me,

my only daughter...

well, you can't
imagine how that feels

unless you've
lost a child.

I fed her at my own breast
even though they told me

to give her
to the wet nurse.

I couldn't bear to see her
in another woman's arms.

I never got
to have a mother,

but Myrcella did.

She was mine,
and you took her from me.

Why did you do that?

Doesn't matter now.

Your daughter's
a beauty, too.

Those brown eyes.

Those lips.

Perfect Dornish beauty.

I imagine
she's your favorite.

I know, I know, we're not
supposed to have favorites,

but still,
we're only human.

We love whom we love.

I'm sorry,
I can't understand you.

That gag makes it impossible to
understand what you're saying.

It must be frustrating.

We all make
our choices.

You chose to murder
my daughter.

You must have felt powerful
after you made that choice.

Do you feel powerful now?

I don't sleep very well.

Not at all, really.

I lie in bed
and I stare at the canopy

and imagine ways
of killing my enemies.

How to destroy Ellaria Sand, the
woman who murdered my only daughter.

I thought about
having Ser Gregor

crush your skull
the way he did Oberyn's.

It would be poetic, I
suppose, but fast, too fast.

I thought about having him
crush your daughter's skull.

She's so beautiful.

The thought
of this lovely face

cracking open
like a duck egg,

no, it's just not right.

Mama.

Qyburn here is
the cleverest man I know.

Clever enough to learn what poison
you used to murder Myrcella.

The Long Goodbye,
was that it?

- The Long Farewell.
- That's the one.

How long does
the poison take?

Difficult to say--
hours, days.

It depends on the
subject's constitution.

- But death is certain?
- Oh, yes, Your Grace, quite certain.

Your daughter will die
here in this cell,

and you will be here
watching when she does.

You'll be here
the rest of your days.

If you refuse to eat, we'll
force food down your throat.

You will live to watch
your daughter rot.

- To watch that
beautiful face collapse...

...to bone and dust.

All the while contemplating
the choices you've made.

Make sure the guards change
the torches every few hours.

I don't want her
to miss a thing.

No.

Don't.

What are you doing?
No one can see us like this.

I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
I'll do as I please.

Forgive me, Your Grace.

The visitor from Braavos
has arrived.

Good. And we'll need
fresh sheets for the bed.

At once, Your Grace.

No, thank you.

My condolences,
Your Grace,

on the death
of your son.

From all reports,
he was a fine young man.

The Iron Bank didn't send you
here to offer condolences.

Condolences
and congratulations.

To become the first ruling
Queen of the Seven Kingdoms,

that's quite
an accomplishment.

The Iron Bank appreciates how you
cast off the yoke of superstition,

freeing the crown
from elements

who sought to subvert
the rule of law.

The destruction of the Sept of
Baelor was a tragic accident.

Indeed, but sometimes
tragedies are necessary

to restore order
and rational leadership.

The Iron Bank
wants its gold back.

Your father never
minced words either.

But, yes, your debts
are considerable.

And you're now engaged in a
conflict on several fronts.

We both know how
expensive war can be.

And we both know
gold wins wars.

Your vaults are empty.

Your late husband's
profligacy saw to that.

Your wealthiest allies, the
Tyrells, are now your enemies.

You are surrounded on all sides
by rivals for the throne.

And the Iron Bank
wants to bet on a winner.

We don't make bets.

We invest in endeavors we
deem likely to be successful.

A fancy way
of saying "bet."

The war's already begun.
I've drawn first blood.

I decapitated
the Dornish snake.

My armada owns
the Narrow Sea.

Euron Greyjoy's armada
owns the Narrow Sea.

Euron Greyjoy
is loyal to me.

For now.

Daenerys Targaryen has
three full-grown dragons.

How well do wooden ships fare
against fire-breathing dragons?

Her dragons might not be
as invulnerable as some think.

But let's talk about
the Targaryen girl.

You want to
invest in her?

I'm guessing the Iron Bank invested
considerable gold in the slave trade.

How are your profits

now that Daenerys
has freed all the slaves?

The slave trade has entered
a downturn, it's true.

From what I gather,
she considers herself

more of a revolutionary
than a monarch.

In your experience, how do bankers
usually fare with revolutionaries?

The Lannisters owe the Iron
Bank quite a lot of money,

but Lannisters
always pay their debts.

Do former slaves
or Dothraki or dragons?

Your father's daughter,
indeed.

Give me a fortnight.

Stay in King's Landing
as my honored guest.

And when you
return to Braavos,

I swear to you, my debt
will be paid in full.

I came down here to brood over my
failure to predict the Greyjoy attack.

You're making it
difficult.

You look a lot better
brooding than I do.

You make me feel like I'm failing
at brooding over failing.

I'm a prisoner
on this island.

I wouldn't say you're
a prisoner on this island.

You're free
to walk the castle,

the beaches,
to go wherever you want.

Except to my ship.

You took my ship.

I wouldn't say
we took your ship.

I'm not playing
word games with you.

The dead are coming
for us all.

Why don't you
figure out what to do

about my missing fleet
and murdered allies,

and I'll figure out what to do
about your walking dead men.

It's hard for me to fathom.
It really is.

If someone told me about the white
walkers and the Night King...

You probably
don't believe me.

I do, actually.

You didn't before.

"Grumkins and snarks,"
you called them.

Do you remember?

You said
it was all nonsense.

It was nonsense.
Everybody knew it.

But then Mormont
saw them

and you saw them.

And I trust the eyes
of an honest man

more than I trust
what everybody knows.

How do I convince people
who don't know me

that an enemy they don't believe
in is coming to kill them all?

- Good question.
- I know it's a good question.

I'm looking
for an answer.

People's minds aren't made
for problems that large.

White walkers,
the Night King,

Army of the Dead--

it's almost a relief
to confront

a comfortable, familiar
monster like my sister.

I need to help prepare my
people for what's coming.

I can't help them
from here.

I'd like to leave.

It seems unlikely that
you became King in the North

by giving up
that easily.

Everyone told me to learn
from my father's mistakes.

Don't go south.

Don't answer a summons
from the Mad King's daughter,

a foreign invader.

And here I am,

a Northern fool.

Children are not
their fathers,

luckily
for all of us.

And sometimes there's more
to foreign invaders

and Northern fools
than meets the eye.

Daenerys could have sailed for
Westeros long ago, but she didn't.

Instead, she stayed
where she was

and saved many people
from horrible fates,

some of whom are on this
island with us right now.

While you're
our guest here,

you might consider
asking them

what they think
of the Mad King's daughter.

She protects people
from monsters,

just as you do.

It's why she came here.

And she's not about
to head north

to fight an enemy
she's never seen

on the word of a man
she doesn't know.

After a single meeting,

it's not a reasonable
thing to ask.

So, do you have anything
reasonable to ask?

What do you mean?

Maybe you are
a Northern fool.

I'm asking if there's something
I can do to help you.

- Dragonglass?
- Yes.

Volcanic glass,
obsidian.

He says you have a tremendous
amount of it here.

Why are we talking
about glass?

We just lost
two of our allies.

Which is why I was speaking to
Jon Snow, a potential ally.

And what does the King in the
North want with dragonglass?

Apparently, it can be
turned into weapons

that kill white walkers
and their foot soldiers.

Or stop them.

Destroy them.

Unsure about
the nomenclature.

And what do you think
about this Army of the Dead

and white walkers
and Night Kings?

I'd very much like to believe
that Jon Snow is wrong.

But a wise man once said that you
should never believe a thing

simply because
you want to believe it.

Which wise man
said this?

I don't remember.

Are you trying to present your own
statements as ancient wisdom?

I would never do that.

To you.

The reason I believe Jon
Snow is because he's here.

All of his advisors would
have told him not to come.

I would have told him
not to come.

And he's here anyway.

You don't
have to believe him.

Let him mine
the dragonglass.

If he's wrong,
it's worthless.

You didn't even know
it was here.

It's nothing to you.

Give him something
by giving him nothing.

Take a step toward a more
productive relationship

with a possible ally.

Keep him occupied while we
focus on the task at hand--

Casterly Rock.

What was that
Ser Davos said

about taking a knife in
the heart for his people?

Did you notice that?

You must allow them
their flights of fancy.

It's dreary
in the North.

Amazing thing
to see.

I named them for my brothers,
Viserys and Rhaegar.

They're both gone now.

You lost
two brothers as well.

People thought dragons were gone
forever, but here they are.

Perhaps we should all be
examining what we think we know.

You've been talking
to Tyrion.

He is my Hand.

- He enjoys talking.
- We all enjoy what we're good at.

I don't.

You know I'm not going to let
Cersei stay on the Iron Throne.

I never expected
that you would.

And I haven't
changed my mind

about which kingdoms
belong to that throne.

I haven't either.

I will allow you to mine the
dragonglass and forge weapons from it.

Any resources or men you need,
I will provide for you.

Thank you.

So you believe me, then, about the
Night King and the Army of the Dead?

You'd better
get to work, Jon Snow.

How much do we have?

4,000 bushels,
my lady.

What does
that mean?

For the current
occupants of the castle,

it's enough food
for a year, perhaps more.

And what's the longest winter
in the past hundred years?

Uh, I'm not
entirely certain.

I-I'll check
Maester Luwin's records.

He kept a copy
of every raven scroll.

You're telling me
we don't have enough food,

especially not if the armies of the
North come back to defend Winterfell?

No, my lady,
most likely not.

Then we must prepare
for that eventuality.

Whatever direction
the threat comes from,

this is
the best place to be.

We need to start
building up our grain stores

with regular shipments
from every keep in the North.

If we don't use it by winter's
end, we'll give it back to them.

But if the entire North
has to flee to Winterfell,

they won't have enough time to bring
wagonloads of grain with them.

Very wise, my lady.

Maester Wolkan,
you'll see to it?

Are they covering those
breastplates in leather?

No, my lady.

Well, shouldn't they be?
Once the real cold comes?

They should, indeed.

Pardon me, my lady.

You there, why isn't
there leather on these?

Command suits you.

The Northerners
are all facing north,

worried about the threat
from beyond the Wall.

So they should be.

I know Cersei
better than anyone here.

If you turn
your back on her--

- You don't know Cersei better than
anyone here. - I only meant to say--

That the woman who murdered my mother,
father, and brother is dangerous?

Thank you for
your wise counsel.

One of two things
will happen--

either the dead
will defeat the living,

in which case...

all our troubles
come to an end,

or life will win out.

And what then?

Don't fight in the
North or the South.

Fight every battle, everywhere,
always, in your mind.

Everyone is your enemy,

everyone
is your friend...

every possible series of events
is happening all at once.

Live that way and nothing
will surprise you.

Everything that happens
will be something

that you've seen before.

Lady Sansa,
at the gate.

Hello, Sansa.

I wish Jon were here.

Yes, I need
to speak to him.

You're Father's
last living trueborn son.

You're Lord
of Winterfell now.

I can never be
Lord of Winterfell.

I can never be
lord of anything.

I'm the Three-Eyed Raven.

I don't know
what that means.

It's difficult
to explain.

Try.
Please, for me.

It means I can see
everything.

Everything that's ever
happened to everyone.

Everything that's
happening right now.

It's all pieces now,
fragments.

I need to learn
to see better.

When the Long Night
comes again,

I need to be ready.

How do you know
all this?

The Three-Eyed Raven
taught me.

I thought you were
the Three-Eyed Raven.

I told you it's
difficult to explain.

Bran--

I'm sorry for all
that's happened to you.

I'm sorry it had to
happen here in our home.

It was so beautiful
that night.

Snow falling,
just like now.

And you were
so beautiful...

in your white
wedding dress.

I have to go
back inside, Bran.

I'll stay
a bit longer.

Hmm.

Hmm.

Does it hurt?

A bit.
Less than before.

The infection no longer
appears to be active.

Unusual.

Unlikely.

One could almost
be forgiven

for thinking that the entire upper
layer of diseased skin was debrided

and the underlying region treated
with some sort of unguent.

Don't know
anything about that.

I just started
feeling better.

I assumed it was
the rest that did it.

And the climate.

The climate.

You're free
to go, ser.

This chamber is needed
for the infectious,

which you are
no longer.

Tarly, I'd like to speak with
you in my study this evening.

How bad is it?

Suppose I'll find out
this evening.

Where will you go?

I surrendered to this sickness
the moment I first saw it.

I knew
it would kill me

or I'd kill myself
before it could.

Daenerys Stormborn
convinced me otherwise.

The only place for me
is back with her.

I owe her my life.

Her and you.

Your father saved me
more than once.

It's the least
I could do.

Perhaps our paths
will cross again.

I hope they do.

- You treated him?
- Yes.

Who told you
to treat him?

No one.

Who forbade you, or anyone,
to attempt to treat him?

I seem
to remember you.

- But you treated him anyway?
- I did, yes.

I forbade it because it is
dangerous and rarely successful,

especially on
someone of that age.

You could have infected
yourself and others.

You could have devastated
the entire Citadel.

But you didn't.

It's a meticulous,
difficult procedure.

Many maesters whose chains
are heavy with healing links

have attempted it
and failed.

Yet you succeeded.

How?

I read the books
and followed the instructions.

That man is alive
because of you.

You should be proud.

Thank you,
Archmaester.

Come here.

All these manuscripts
and scrolls are rotting away.

I need you
to make copies of them.

You were expecting
a reward.

Your reward is not being immediately
expelled from the Citadel.

You'd better
get started.

And careful
of the paper mites.

They like flesh
as well.

We need to find Euron
Greyjoy's fleet and sink it.

Your Grace, he's already destroyed
a good portion of our fleet.

To send our remaining
ships after him--

I'm not talking about
sending our ships after him.

Would you have to go
yourself?

Euron's ships
could be anywhere

or in more than
one place.

You'd be flying around
the open seas alone

for who knows
how long.

I wouldn't be alone.

I would have Drogon,
Viserion, and Rhaegal.

What can anyone
do to them?

They can still
do something to you.

It only takes
one arrow.

It's too great a risk.
You're too important.

What about
Casterly Rock?

The Unsullied
will be there soon.

And what will they face?

A difficult situation.

They know we're coming.

Yes. Cersei believes
my sole purpose in life

is to destroy
House Lannister.

She will be ready.

- No one has ever taken the Rock.
Archers!

The Lannister Army is still
the army my father built.

- Come on! Well-trained
and well-provisioned.

10,000 men at least.

They will see us coming.

They will be ready.

- Draw! Loose!
- Loose!

The gates of Casterly Rock
are impregnable.

The fight up the walls
will be hard.

We will be
at a disadvantage.

Many men will die.

Just as my father
said they would.

Interesting thing
about my father--

he built our house up
from near ruin.

He built our army, he built
Casterly Rock as we know it,

but he didn't
build the sewers.

That was beneath him,

so he gave the job to the
lowest person he could find--

me.

He was right,
I was low.

The company I kept, low.

Women, mostly.

They weren't welcome
at the Rock.

Father disapproved
of that sort of behavior.

Couldn't walk them
through the front gates,

I couldn't have them
in my chambers,

so in the process
of building the sewers,

I threw in something
for myself.

It was a passage
that began

in an out of the way cove
by the sea

and ended beneath
one of the main guard towers.

No better place for low pursuits
than beneath the ground.

Casterly Rock
is an impregnable fortress.

But as a good friend of mine
once said,

"Give me 10 good men
and I'll impregnate the bitch."

And so it begins.

They will face the bulk
of the Lannister forces.

They will be outnumbered.

They will have less armor
and fewer weapons.

But my sister's armies
fight for her out of fear.

The Unsullied will be fighting
for something greater.

They will be fighting
for freedom

and the person
who gave it to them.

They will be fighting
for you.

And that is why
they will triumph.

Where are they?!

Where are the rest
of the Lannisters?

- It's done.
- It is.

And now the rains weep
o'er our halls.

Did we fight well?

Uh, as well
as could be expected.

It was never our forte.

Golden roses, indeed.

Your brother
and his new queen

thought you would be
defending Casterly Rock.

The truth is Casterly Rock
isn't worth much anymore.

Well, it is to me,

but my fond
childhood memories

won't keep Cersei
on the throne.

So you just
let them take it?

For now. They won't
be able to hold it.

Euron Greyjoy's navy
burned their ships,

we emptied the larders
before we left.

Eventually, they'll be forced
to abandon their position

and march all the way
across Westeros.

And you took your army,
your real army,

and went
where they weren't.

As Robb Stark did to me
at Whispering Wood.

There are always
lessons in failures.

Yes. You must be
very wise by now.

My father always said
I was a slow learner.

If he was so clever,

why didn't he take
Highgarden

the moment your
gold mines ran dry?

I suppose I'll be able to
ask him myself soon enough.

No more learning
from my mistakes, eh?

How will you do it?

With that sword?

That was Joffrey's sword,
wasn't it?

Not that
he ever used it.

What did he call it?

Widow's Wail.

He really was a cunt,
wasn't he?

I did unspeakable things
to protect my family.

Or watched them
being done on my orders.

I never lost
a night's sleep over them.

They were necessary.

And whatever
I imagined necessary

for the safety
of House Tyrell, I did.

But your sister
has done things...

I was incapable
of imagining.

That was
my prize mistake--

a failure
of imagination.

She's a monster,
you do know that?

To you, I'm sure.

To others as well.

But after we've won and there's
no one left to oppose us,

when people are living peacefully
in the world she built,

do you really think they'll wring their
hands over the way she built it?

You love her.

You really do
love her.

You poor fool.

She'll be
the end of you.

Possibly.

Not much
to be gained

from discussing it with
you, though, is there?

What better person
to discuss it with?

What better guarantee
could you have

that the things you say
will never leave this room?

But perhaps
you're right.

If she's driven you
this far,

it's gone beyond
your control.

Yes.

It has.

She's a disease.

I regret my role
in spreading it.

You will, too.

I think
we're done here.

How will it happen?

Cersei had
several ideas.

Whipping you
through the streets

and beheading you
in front of the Red Keep.

Flaying you alive and hanging you
from the walls of King's Landing.

I talked her
out of those.

Will there be pain?

No. I made sure
of that.

That's good.

I'd hate to die
like your son.

Clawing at my neck,

foam and bile spilling
from my mouth,

eyes bloodred,
skin purple.

Must have been
horrible for you,

as a Kingsguard,
as a father.

It was horrible
enough for me.

A shocking scene.

Not at all
what I intended.

You see, I had never seen
the poison work before.

Tell Cersei.

I want her to know
it was me.

My only venture at this moment

is reestablishing control
over this continent

and every person on it.

All my allies are gone.

I'm losing.

You can count on the Iron Bank.
As soon as the gold arrives.

Enough with the clever plans.

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