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Duty is sacrifice.

It eclipses all things,

even blood.

All men of honor must pay its price.

The North owes a great duty
to the Seven Kingdoms.

One older than any oath.

Since the days of the First Men,

we have stood as guardians

against the cold and the dark.

Through its long tradition,

the Night's Watch
cultivated its strength

from doomed men

who had their life
as their only possession.

But my ancestor, Torrhen Stark,

began a tradition by making an offering

at the onset of winter:

one in 10 men from our household

was to be chosen to fortify the Watch.

This is not a sentence but an honor.

A duty embraced by all
who serve the North.

Even by mine own kin.

The North must stand ready.

Winter is coming.

Coming? What is this, then,

that falls from the skies
and shivers my bones?

This is only a late summer
snow, my prince.

In winter, it will cover all you see,

and all memories of warmth
will be forgotten.

It pleases me to think
that over a century ago

our ancestors treated
in this very place.

The Conqueror and the King in the North.

You, at least, had the mercy

not to threaten me with your dragon.

My prince.

- My lord.
- My lord.

M'lord.

Surely the great Torrhen Stark

would've sooner died than bent the knee.

Unless he believed the Conqueror

could bring unity to the Seven Kingdoms.

You are right in that.

That unity is now threatened.

The realm will soon tear itself apart...

if men do not remember

the oath sworn to King Viserys

and to his rightful heir.

Starks do not forget
their oaths, my prince.

But you must know that my gaze is

forever torn between north and south.

In winter, my duty to the
Wall is even more dire

than the one I owe to King's Landing.

I need my men here.

Whilst your men guard against

wildlings and weather,

the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne.

If my mother is to defend her claim

to hold the realm united,

she needs an army.

War is coming

to the whole of the realm, my lord.

We cannot wage it without
the support of the North.

My father brought King Jaehaerys

and Queen Alysanne to see the Wall.

His Grace stood at this very outlook

and watched as their dragons,

the greatest power in the world,

refused to cross it.

Do you think my ancestors built

a 700-foot wall of ice

to keep out snow and savages?

What does it keep out?

Death.

I have thousands of graybeards

who've already seen too many winters.

They are... well-honed.

So they're old?

I can ready them to march at once.

If your graybeards can fight,

the queen will have them.

They will fight hard.

Like Northerners.

My lord?

A raven's arrived.

Urgent news from Dragonstone.

Take your mount again. We're flying out.

I alone patrol over
a hundred miles of open sea,

endlessly, to hold the blockade.

Meleys must gorge and rest, as must I.

- We're going to King's Landing.
- To what end?

Killing Vhagar.

I cannot face that
hoary old bitch alone.

With my dragon and yours together,

we can kill Vhagar and her rider.

Make it a son for a son.

- Was this the queen's command?
- The queen remains absent.

I should be at Harrenhal bending knees,

but I must instead remain
here to wage her war.

Or perhaps, more simply,
to await her return.

She has been gone for days.
Too long. She is exposed.

- She is grieving.
- The mother grieves

as the queen shirks her duties.

It was a raven that brought
me news of Laena's death.

I existed for weeks in torment...

refusing to believe what I'd been told.

It was only when I saw my
daughter's mortal remains

that I could begin to mourn her.

A raven has told Rhaenyra
that her son is dead.

She needs to know it for certain.

She was a fool to go alone.

What if Aemond were to happen upon her?

Then I would pity Aemond.

The queen was wise to recuse herself.

She has not acted on the vengeful
impulse that others might have.

If you'd have acted when
you had the chance...

Aegon's line would be extinguished.

And Luke would be alive.

Fly with me.

- It is a command.
- Would that you were the king.

M'lord.

It's a marvel she was able to
return from the Stepstones at all.

Barely done, but done.

Seven more ships put out to sea
this morn' to fortify the blockade.

The Gullet is vast, and we're
not like to have the numbers

to cover all that open water.

I must have my ship back at sea

to lead the effort.

It'll be many weeks yet, I'd wager.

But I'll have a word with my brother...

to see what reinforcements
the shipwrights can muster.

The smithy delivered this earlier.

M'lord?

I had this commissioned
for Prince Lucerys.

I was very sorry to hear
about your heir's death.

'Twas the blackest of treacheries.

Pardon, m'lord, if it'll
please you, much to do.

They tell me that you are the one

that dragged my body out of the sea.

It was only my duty.

I am indebted to you, Alyn.

Mind your posts!

Keep your focus, men!

- Dragon!
- Dragon!

Arm the scorpion!

Arm the scorpion!

Approaching from the southeast!

Get around!

Scorpion ready!

- Halt!
- Halt!

Stand down, it's Vhagar!

Stand down!

Standing down!

Where is Jaehaerys?

Attending his lessons.

And those are where?

What do you need of him?

Taking him to the small council.

He'll be king one day.

He must begin his instruction.

What if he does not want to be king?

Where is he?

The library.

You must not interrupt his custom.

I'm afraid.

Don't be.

They'd be fools to come with
Vhagar protecting the city.

Not the dragons.

The rats.

The queen is an enduring mystery...

is she not?

There's a chill in the air.

Summer is well and truly through.

We are expected at the
small council, Your Grace.

We cannot.

Again.

Yes, Your Grace.

If you wouldn't mind?

- Your Grace.
- Good day.

Hello! Jaehaerys must learn
the ways of the court

if he is to rule one day.

Up we go.

Good morrow, my lords.

Mother.

What news?

Our letters to the Vale and to the North

continue to go unanswered.

Cunts.

The Stormlands should be ours

after Prince Aemond's marriage pact

to the Lady Floris Baratheon.

I anticipate their sworn declaration.

My brother is raising
the strength of the West

to mass at the Golden Tooth, but we...

Yeah, thank you, my prince.

That's, that's very helpful.

My nephew, Lord Ormund,

musters his forces
to sally forth from Oldtown.

They expect to march quickly,

meeting little resistance,
until they reach the Riverlands.

My letters to Rhaenyra.
Has there been any answer?

An apology for her dead son?

None, Your Grace.

Between that and their
blockade of the Gullet,

we must presume that
the princess has refused

the offered terms,

and that war is now inevitable.

- Na-na!
- Perhaps Your Grace might lend

- his voice to our outreach...
- Stop! Enough!

... in hopes that new terms
might, might be negotiated.

Release it at once!
Would someone please?

Is the heir to the throne
bothering you, Tyland?

No. No, no, not, not in
the least, Your Grace.

Because I think he wants a ride.

- Your Grace.
- Uh, a ride?

A pony ride.

Wouldn't that be fun, Jaehaerys?

Should the Master of Coin
be your royal steed?

Your Grace!

There are important
matters to discuss...

despite Sir Tyland's interruptions.

Very well.

No time for amusements, Tyland.

Your Grace.

Off you go, Jaehaerys. Good boy.

Where were we?

Rhaenyra's blockade has placed
King's Landing under strain.

And those pressures
will multiply quickly.

Well, we should've just killed
her when we had the chance.

Regrettably, the opportunity
for surprise has been lost,

and with it, the chance
to end this conflict quickly.

We must play the board before us.

If we are to break
the Sea Snake's blockade,

we will need to bolster both the
Lannister and Hightower navies.

We do have need
for a new Master of Ships.

We could offer the title to the
young Lord Dalton Greyjoy.

Aemond. What is your business here?

The king summoned me.

You do not have a seat at this council.

Aemond is my closest
blood and our best sword.

I welcome him.

Path to King's Landing
is through the Riverlands.

We must establish a toehold
there, at Harrenhal.

The Riverlords will
either declare for me,

or they will meet Vhagar
and Sunfyre together.

Ah, and-and we can burn
the blockade while we're at it.

- Rhaenyra has dragons as well.
- Mine are bigger.

If we lose the dragons to war,
there'll be no calling them back.

- We must proceed cautiously.
- No.

Fat, old Lord Tully will either
raise my banner or see his burn.

We should fly to Riverrun.

You are the king, Your Grace.

You must not put yourself at risk.

And Vhagar is needed here
to deter Rhaenyra from attacking

in retribution for the death of her son.

Errors were made in the hours
following King Viserys's death.

We mustn't compound them.

You've already demonstrated
your might, Your Grace.

We must now favor
patience and restraint.

I send ravens by the hour.

Many and more houses
will declare for you in time.

History and precedent
will come to your side.

Good morrow, Your Grace.

Good morrow, Lord Larys.

I had come earlier to have a word

before the small council convened,

but your handmaiden said
that you were indisposed.

What is it you wish to discuss?

I have completed questioning
the whole of the castle staff.

They produced rather
interesting details,

but I am satisfied I have exposed
all who betrayed our trust.

And what of them?

They no longer breathe our air.

I have chosen your new staff personally.

St... Gi-Give me that.

Your Grace?

Just leave me.

Just le... Just le... Just leave me.

- It's a dragon wing!
- Let's have a look!

- It's a wing.
- Who cares what it is.

Dragon!

All hail King Aegon!

"Aegon the Magnanimous",

Second of His Name, King of the Andals,

and the Rhoynar, and the First Men,

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

Hail King Aegon!

"The Magnanimous"?

Your Grace.

Let's have the first petition,
my good Lord Hand.

Good morrow, my, uh, Your Grace.

It's alright.

There's no reason to be nervous.

What's your name?

Gr... Uh, Jerard, Your Grace.

Good morrow, Jerard.

And how might your king be of service?

'Tis my flock.

Uh, a-a-a tenth of them taken by...

the Crown on...

on the cusp of winter.

- If I'd had the time to plan...
- We should return them.

- Your Grace?
- Well, you need

your goats for the winter, don't you?

- Sheep, Your-Your Grace.
- Sheep, even better.

I shall make your flock of sheep whole.

We already made a promise
to all the Crownlands

that a tithing of livestock

would be necessary
to sustain the dragons

for their increased activity

and, pray not, eventual fighting.

Right... Right.

Perhaps we could just return
his sheep. He came all this way.

If you return one herder's
sheep, Your Grace,

you will soon find them all
at the foot of your throne

expecting the same.

They won't know.

When the king speaks,
Your Grace, all hear it.

After further thought,
I have decided that

I cannot restore your sheep.

If war were to break out,

my dragons will require feed.

Bring the next.

Salts always run scarce
on the road to winter,

Your Grace.

We rely on ships from Essos

for our supply.

But now, with a blockade in
place and war threatening...

Yeah, that treasonous
blockade won't last long.

I plan to send Vhagar to burn it to ash.

Bring the next.

Hugh, Your Grace.

The smiths are all proud

to support Your Grace against Rhaenyra.

But?

But...

iron costs have grown.

A lone scorpion takes weeks to build.

To put it simply, we are struggling.

If we could but have the Crown's
coin before we started work,

it would bring great relief.

Not just to me, but to all the
smiths serving your cause.

You shall be paid and paid well.

My army cannot win a war
without your weapons.

You should continue their making.

Our victory depends on
the efforts of the smallfolk.

You have my most sincere
gratitude, Your Grace.

I'll hear the next petition.

Your Grace, it filled my heart

to see you on the Iron Throne.

I was only a boy

when Jaehaerys last graced the seat,

but you brought forth memories of him,

and you have such a deft
touch with the smallfolk,

just as your father did.

Thank you, my lord.

I wonder, do you have a
moment for a quiet word?

It is the Hand's wont to
keep a firm grip on things.

Mm.

He controlled your father the same way.

Viserys had a certain
reputation as being pliable.

I am aware.

I would think, as we find ourselves

standing within a hair's breadth of war,

that you would wish
to be viewed differently.

How?

Otto Hightower...

was your father's Hand, Your Grace.

Daughter.

I requested an audience hours ago.

There were many petitions.

I find myself wondering...

do we pursue the same end?

I must admit, there are days
where I myself can't be sure.

I shall tell you mine.

It's victory.

And how would you define "victory"?

Rhaenyra bending the knee

and Aegon sitting
the Iron Throne, in peace.

As Viserys wished.

Well, if that's how you describe
it, then we are aligned.

- Then be my ally.
- I am.

An ally would not repeatedly cut my legs

from beneath me at that table of men!

- I sit there and I feel your anger.
- Frustration.

These critical days
since Viserys's passing

- haven't gone to plan.
- That's not my fault.

My sons both see you
as the great example.

The Hand to three kings.

Aegon is ever-eager to prove himself

and Aemond...

Aemond is angry.

Rhaenyra's son took his eye
and was never punished for it.

- What he did, however vicious...
- The caprice of youth.

I could only hope.

Aemond erred.

But he is fiercely loyal.
He wishes to please.

And Aegon still heeds me.

In private, at least.

But if you undermine my voice,

both those boys will grow deaf to it.

I hadn't seen it that way.

We only need to mind Aegon

until the novelty of rule is spent.

Once he tires of it, you and I
can steer our cause to victory.

A fine strategy, daughter.

But you must accept that the path
to victory now is one of violence.

I know it.

But that does not mean
it must be wanton.

No.

Prepare to be boarded!

By the order of Lord Corlys Velaryon!

Search the hold for stowaways!

You.

When last we met, there were two of you.

"The White Worm".

Did you think I would
wither in your absence?

I did not think you
would flower a traitor.

You speak of highborn games.
I am common-born.

How long have you been selling
secrets to Otto Hightower?

As long as he had gold to pay for them.

Who sent you fleeing from King's
Landing in such disrepair, hm?

You put Aegon on the throne.

That was the Hightowers' conspiracy.

I merely profited from knowing
Aegon's movements.

But you delivered him.

He would've returned home
eventually for gold and for respite,

as he always does.

I simply... simply sped
the business along.

"Business" that ended with
the theft of the queen's throne

and the murder of her son.

You only blame me
because your true enemies

are out of reach.

My arrangement with the Hand

was purely transactional.

I held no loyalty to him.

Certainly do not now.

Otto Hightower was to me
as I am to your noble ilk,

fodder to be cast off.

What else do you know of him? His plans?

Little and less.

I possess nothing
of value to you, Daemon.

Have her moved to the cells.

She is to be treated
as a traitor to the crown.

Forgive me, my prince...

but the lady speaks the truth.

- She was no agent of the Hightowers.
- What is it to you?

A matter of honor.

Was it honor that made
you stand by and watch

as the Hightowers usurped the throne?

You and your traitorous twin.

No, my prince.

I'm shamed by it.

That's why I abandoned the Kingsguard,

and my brother, and came here.

I don't care.

Aegon was in your grasp.

You should've killed him yourself.

Arryk and I were named to the
Kingsguard at just 8 and 10.

And we swore the same oath:

to defend the whole of the royal family.

So what were we to do when
they turned against one another?

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,
the First of Her Name,

Queen of the Andals, and
the Rhoynar, and the First Men,

Lady of the Seven Kingdoms,
and Protector of the Realm.

Did you find what you needed?

Your council stands
at the ready, Your Grace.

I will fly to Harrenhal at your command

and set our toehold in the Riverlands.

Your Grace, my lord husband's
blockade of the Gullet

moves into place.

All seaborne travel and trade

to King's Landing will soon be cut off.

I want Aemond Targaryen.

In your years as a merchant of gossip,

you surely accumulated
spies within the Red Keep.

Servants who knew
the comings and goings.

Scheme with someone else, Daemon.

I was once in your
thrall, but no longer.

A transaction, then.

Your knowledge in exchange
for your freedom.

Your Grace.

Lady Jeyne Arryn has pledged her support

in exchange for a dragon
to guard the Vale.

And Lord Cregan Stark...

has promised 2,000 men...

Alyrie Florent.

Viserys Targaryen.

Lucerys Velaryon.

A tribute.

Commander?

Never gone for long.

I'm told you bear a mislike
for the Hightowers.

Fuck the Hightowers.

Keep walking.

Don't make trouble.

The White Worm said

you're one of Aegon's ratcatchers.

You must be busy. That castle
positively crawls with them now.

I heard the White Worm were dead.

Her ghost told me
you were a betting man.

- Fighting pits?
- Dogs... and bones.

How deep are your debts?

I was also given to understand
that you possess

a unique knowledge of the Red Keep.

Maegor's tunnels.

Great big rat's nest, it is.

I know them better than
the shape of my own cock.

This is my friend.

Tonight, he's going to be your friend.

You're to find and slay
the Prince Aemond Targaryen.

He has silver hair and one eye.

Should be easy enough to find.

But I understand he's
quite good in a fight.

You'll want to take caution.

That's one half. You'll get
the other when it's done.

Alright.

What if we can't find him?

We've wasted precious days
in this war of quills and ravens.

Words are wind.

You should be leading the van,

and I should be flying cover on Vhagar.

No castle would dare to raise
Rhaenyra's banner against us.

We would bring the whole of
the Crownlands to heel in weeks.

Well, mayhaps we could
petition the king,

privately, to send us out.

Rosby and Stokeworth,

small castles right in the
shadow of King's Landing.

They would not want us for enemies.

We could add their levies to our own.

Our host growing as we advance.

Uh, it is a canny scheme.

But moot.

My brother is hostage
to my grandsire and mother,

and they tell him that a war of
dragons can yet be avoided.

'Tis inevitable. They must see that.

Otto fears to upset the order of things.

And Alicent is simply...

angry.

- Angry?
- She blames me for starting this war

after she plotted with my father's
council to usurp his throne.

"Her Grace" speaks with two tongues.

She has a gentle heart.

And Rhaenyra is a cunning spider.

Long ago, she drew
Alicent into her web...

intoxicated her.

It is not your mother's fault.

She holds love for our enemy.

That makes her a fool.

Lord Hand.

Return to your post, Lord Commander.

I must have a word with the prince.

It would concern me, grandson,

if plans were being considered

beyond the ears
of your king and his Hand.

You have a zeal to act. I understand.

I was young once myself...

I only wish to serve
my king and my house.

You and Vhagar

are the greatest single
power in the realm.

If it wasn't obvious before,
it certainly is now.

But there are many
pieces at play here...

some of which you can't yet see.

I promise you, Aemond, you will have

all the vengeance that you seek,

but you must keep a
grip on your impulses.

We both know that your brother cannot.

Alright.

Take that.

Bring the dog.

I need to be a symbol for the smallfolk,

- as well as the nobility.
- Wait.

You could always be

"Aegon the Strong".

My nephew's already taken that one.

Well, which would Your Grace prefer?

- It's the king.
- To be loved or feared?

I need to be both.

My mother and grandsire

mind me like some helpless duckling.

Oh, well, you're the king.

Who gives a shit what they say?

My brother, at least, knows his place.

He's as loyal as a hound.

I can set him and his dragon
on my foes at will.

- Keep your eyes down.
- I need a style that

demonstrates power and commands respect.

Eh, no-no one knows what
"magnanimous" means.

You could be "Aegon the Generous" then.

- That would charm the smallfolk.
- I like that.

Is there more strong wine?

- "Aegon the Dragonheart".
- Better.

"Aegon the Dragoncock!"

Yes, yes!

Yeah, the untamable beast!

How do we get upstairs?

The royals live up there.

Right.

Well, it's off limits, it is.

Different group of ratcatchers
work the upstairs.

If we're to kill a royal fucking prince,

where do you think we're gonna find him?

I got you in the castle.

I thought the rest was your bit.

I could end you right here,

take the rest of the gold meself.

I know a way upstairs.

I just don't know my way 'round.

Show me.

Fuck off.

This way.

The royals live on this level.

No one's here.

We need to keep looking.

I've told ya, I'm not
supposed to be up here.

Did you not hear the prince?

No head... no gold.

- Set a trap.
- Huh?

- For appearances.
- Oh.

I'll search the next room.

For the rats.

Quiet.

Quiet.

Stay still.

Who the fuck is she?

She's the queen, she is.

"A son for a son", he said.

Well, does she look like
a fucking son to you?

Over there.

We need to get our head and get out.

Shh.

They both look the same.
Which one's the boy?

- Maybe that one.
- Well, look for a cock.

The mother knows.

Do anything but what I ask,

and I'll bleed the whole lot of ya.

Shh.

Which?

I have a necklace.

It's of great value.

That's not a son.

N...

Wait.

It's the other one.

She's not gonna give up
the king's heir that easy.

No.

She's telling true.

Hold him down.

No.

Helaena!

What's happened?

They killed the boy.

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