Original subtitles

You stand before the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms

with a dragon of House Targaryen!

I had no design upon it!

What do you want?

To learn the ways of dragonriders.

And to serve my queen!

Your Grace!

You kneel quickly

for a man so suddenly elevated.

This dragon came to me, not I to him.

I have sweated blood in service of House Velaryon.

I may appear lowborn

but I know much and more of service!

And if the gods call me to greater things,

who am I to refuse them?

Stand.

What is your parentage?

My mother was a shipwright.

My father is...

no one of consequence.

Your ancestors, any of House Targaryen?

We're not the sort of family to keep annals, Your Grace.

What is your name?

Addam, of Hull.

You have done something

I feared impossible,

Addam of Hull.

I am glad of it.

Do you think you can get him to Dragonstone?

I can try.

All my life,

I have endeavored to serve both my house and the realm.

And somehow none of it matters.

We are cast aside.

Or hated.

You'll have a scar

but it will be easily hidden.

Nothing is clean here.

I wish to go out, Ser Rickard.

Out?

To the Kingswood, I think.

Then I'll have the stewards prepare

- a retinue. - No retinue.

- Then your handmaidens-- - No handmaidens.

Just you.

What are they for? The block or the crow cage?

The Wall.

The prince regent is merciful.

Well, they started a riot.

Justice is served, I suppose.

I have received word of a matter of great importance.

Rumor of a sighting of the dragon Seasmoke

with a rider.

A fine piece of intelligence

and now you seek favor by delivering it to Prince Aemond.

Actually, I thought I might seek your advice, Lord Larys.

Whispers being your province.

Kneel before the Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen!

Oh, but this is your whisper, Lord Jasper, not mine.

But if you consider it valuable, perhaps you could deliver it

and find favor with Aemond yourself.

You will forsake your white cloaks for black.

Serve out your days at The Wall.

Who is this rider?

That is less clear

but it must surely be the Lady Rhaena.

She has wanted for a dragon all her life.

Indeed, but she tried already when she was four and ten.

The beast Seasmoke very nearly devoured her.

Who else?

Yes, it is a shallow pool.

Where did you hear it?

My squire.

He heard it from a stablehand,

who heard it from his father, a fisherman, whose shipmate claims he saw it.

You are, of course, welcome to bring this news

to the prince regent, but

perhaps this is one of those whispers best left to the wind.

The queen is unharmed.

What of the rider? Do we know who he is?

He appears to be a shipwright in your employ, Lord Hand.

A commoner?

With respect to your workers, Lord Corlys,

the lowborn cannot go around seizing dragons.

Has the thief been secured?

Her Grace has commanded that he remain here as a guest.

She wishes him to be instructed in the art of dragonriding,

and that I should teach him some High Valyrian.

We know nothing about this man, save that he is lowborn.

What say you, Lord Hand?

We will await the queen's accounting

before passing judgment.

Where is the queen?

Her Grace sends word she will not be attending.

So he serves you and not himself.

- That is lucky. - Lucky?

Or somehow ordained?

Seasmoke chose him.

He surely has Targaryen blood in him somewhere.

The dragon must sense it. There will be others.

We will find riders for Vermithor and Silverwing.

You trust this man?

What choice do I have?

He has a dragon.

Without him, I have only Syrax who may give Aemond a second thought.

The question is where to look.

Targaryen blood was perhaps too thin in Ser Steffon Darklyn.

If I can find others with a more direct line of breeding.

Forgive me, Your Grace,

but you are better served looking under the sheets and in the woodpiles.

I once worked in a pleasure house

where generations of Targaryen princelings had their revels.

There are four score of their bastard progeny at least, that are known to me.

There are sure to be more.

Perhaps some here, on Dragonstone, the misbegotten offspring of your house.

You speak of the lowborn.

They are as like to serve you

as highborn lords or ladies, perhaps more.

But in the highborn houses there is

an ancient fealty.

There is honor.

Your royal half-brothers, Aegon and Aemond,

whose blood is pure, who wage war against you for your throne,

are they bound by honor?

A common shipwright vows to serve you while your brothers seek to destroy you.

The order of things has changed, Your Grace.

Why not embrace it?

For 20 years, the lords of this realm levied

insults at my sons behind my back.

Well then.

Let us raise an army of bastards.

- My lord. -"My lord"?

How you have come up in the world.

I wish to ask for leave to relinquish my part

as a shipwright in your service.

There are good men and strong who can take my place--

Your leave is granted.

Well done.

Lord Tully has answered your summons and brought

the Riverlords, my king.

My condolences on the passing of your grandsire

but the crown congratulates you on your ascension to the head of your house

and Lord Paramount in the Riverlands.

Truly glorious. Well done.

I did nothing.

Nevertheless, you are here, which is the important thing.

You were quick enough to dismiss me before.

You were of no significance to me then.

Now...

I shall have my great host.

You have a decision to make.

I presume it is clear to you which is the right one.

You'll forgive me, Your Grace.

I am green in this sort of matter, as you so kindly point out, but

it does seem to me that you've made rather a mess here,

countenancing barbarities in the queen's name.

Whose side are you on?

The Riverlands are held together by oaths.

House Tully swore an oath to King Viserys.

We recognize the authority of the named heir, Queen Rhaenyra,

and your own, as her king consort.

Good.

Then we shall go to face your vassals and you will call your banners to war.

That might be difficult, my king.

Well...

I was told they would come to heel when House Tully declared its allegiance.

That may be the case,

though it is yet to be seen that they will heed my authority

as young as it is.

And there is another problem.

They all hate you.

I don't need their love.

I need their swords.

Your Grace, my lord.

The Riverlords await.

I fear we cannot delay them any longer.

Come along, Lord Oscar.

In the deepest darkness comes the dawn.

A new lord,

a new beginning.

Let us put all the old unpleasantness behind us.

Be welcome, my lords,

and you have my thanks for answering my summons.

I know I'm not the man my grandsire was

but I hope to begin well, and go on from there.

Well said. One thing is clear--

the Rivermen honor the old ways and abide by tradition.

Here, then, is tradition. Grover Tully is dead.

Lord Oscar raised up in his place.

You have been summoned here to swear anew your fealty to him

and as his bannermen, answer his call.

And what would that call be?

In his wisdom, he has pledged his house, and yours, to me.

Lord Oscar, for generations we have been guided by the judgment of your forebears.

Why should we now follow a boy, younger than my own sons,

when you will align with one who will desecrate the innocent to reach his aims?

I did only what was necessary, my lord.

And I now deliver to you the traitor Amos Bracken and his son.

No more traitor to his land than you, Willem Blackwood.

I take to heart your words, Lord Piper, and I agree, I am young.

And I have no love for Daemon Targaryen.

He has dishonored himself and the crown with his

comportment here.

Nevertheless, having so little experience to guide me,

my best course is to defer to the oath my grandsire swore

to King Viserys when he named Rhaenyra his heir.

I see no reason to cast aside loyalty

no matter how loathsome I may find her representative the prince.

King.

Mind your tongue, boy.

Will you have our army or not?

I am, in the end, a Riverman and the word of my house stands,

even if certain people are unworthy of it.

Your Lord Oscar is bold.

But he is perhaps not wrong.

I may have been a touch enthusiastic in pursuing my aims.

But don't allow my failings to

keep you from supporting an upright man.

Lord Oscar, we honor the old ways,

as Prince Daemon says

and the old ways call

- for justice to be done. - Yes!

Justice has been done.

They who bent the knee to the usurper have been brought to heel.

And now, we unite before our liege lord

and our king consort.

I accept you as my vassal, Willem Blackwood

but...

I am Lord Paramount of all River Houses.

And there is only one answer for the crimes

you visited upon your neighbors.

I did only what His Grace the king required of me.

It is true that he made clear his base desires

but you did not have to pursue such savagery.

You did it because you wanted to.

Our young lord speaks truly.

Seize him.

Don't fuckin' do this.

Your Grace, command them. I've only served you.

- Command them. - If His Grace wishes

to show contrition for his acts

and to prove himself deserving of our banners

he must now rectify his grievous error.

Denounce your crimes

and dispense justice.

Oh, dear.

No, no, no!

I did as you asked, Your Grace, I have been faithful.

What is this?

I never wanted it.

I was right not to.

All that pain it caused.

It crushes whoever wears it.

You always wanted it, Daemon.

Do you want it still?

Steady. Slowly.

I can't.

You can. You must try, Your Grace.

I can't, I can't!

I'm sorry, Your Grace. I'm sorry, Your Grace.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

A moment!

A moment, please!

You really oughtn't to be doing that alone, Grand Maester.

Allow me.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Forgive me, Your Grace.

- Be careful. - Wait, wait.

Your progress is impressive.

But I'm afraid you must work harder.

Your strength will return.

There are adjustments to the gait and so forth

that you will learn now that you are

as you are.

You should be more cautious.

I should, Lord Larys.

He needs rest. He should be abed.

I push him on your instruction.

I'll have the sentry give you more warning.

Let him try again in a few hours.

He is spent.

It will be long before he may rest again.

Alyn.

My lord.

I have tasks that need your personal attention.

The queen requires ships at her service in King's Landing.

Charter fishing vessels. Pay whatever they demand

but ensure their captains are dependable.

- Put trusted swords aboard. - Yes, m'lord.

Have them wait just outside the harbor.

And there will be a message to carry to one she will name.

The queen has found a new rider for one of her dragons.

I've heard tell of it.

The rider is your brother.

She now makes the call for others.

Our people are of Old Valyria, but we are no dragonlords.

I confess, I knew little of your mother's heritage.

If it is

something in the blood.

My brother was ever restless, yearning for some sign of his worth.

I am of salt and sea.

I yearn for nothing else.

I will retire now, Ser Rickard.

When does Your Grace mean to return to the city?

I'm not yet certain I do.

Good night.

The lowborn claiming dragons, was it her idea?

Lady Mysaria?

You were enthusiastic enough when Ser Steffon made his claim.

He was the Lord Commander of your Queensguard.

Heir to the Dun Fort. These people are--

Courageous.

Mongrels.

Jace.

Think what is at stake.

I know well what is at stake.

House Targaryen is the blood of the dragon.

If any may lay claim to it, what are we then?

The rightful rulers of the Seven Kingdoms.

And what if one of your baseborn, silver-haired dragonriders

decides he wants to rule the Seven Kingdoms?

Did the Conqueror's dream foretell that?

What else would you have me do?

Prosecute a war, which we will lose, in which thousands will die.

Or fly against Vhagar myself?

Or perhaps you will fly against her on Vermax.

Jace, with these riders, we can end a needless war.

I may take my rightful place on my father's throne.

And when you die?

You are my heir.

Did you think I would have dark hair?

When you took Harwin Strong into your bed, did you think I might favor him,

or did it not cross your mind?

- Jacaerys-- - I'm no fool, Mother!

The proof is here for all to see.

Yet I may argue my legitimacy to succeed you because I have a dragon.

And now you say you will strip that from me too.

I mislike all of this.

Then don't pursue it.

But I cannot gainsay that which the gods have laid before me.

Do whatever you must to see that it finds her.

From the queen.

You won't believe this.

Word is, Rhaenyra's recruiting smallfolk to go to Dragonstone.

- Oh, fuck that. - They wouldn't take you anyway.

They're looking for Targaryen bastards.

Boats leave tonight. Hour of the bat.

Seven hells, Ulf. This is it!

Yeah, a likely story.

- You've been taken in, lads. - No, no, no, no, no.

The queen's own handmaid is here, spreadin' the word.

Well, that's a shame 'cause I'd have been first in line if it wasn't for my injury.

'Cause my leg hasn't been the same since--

Are you touched? He's saying you can claim a dragon.

The barkeep from the Seven Maesters is goin'.

And two of the girls from Mother's.

- A chance to stick it to Aemond. - And claim a dragon.

- Dragon! - Yeah, no. I know.

- What? - I know. I just-- I can't...

I can't be sure it's all true.

You can't mean that you've been drinkin'

at the expense of all these good people

- for a fiction? No, Ulf. - No, no.

All spark and no tinder?

- They won't be happy. - They'll be very unhappy.

- Never live it down. - Never live it down.

- Come on, Ulf, the time has come! - Come on!

Can I see a little glimmer?

- Where is it? - There's the Ulf I know.

Yes! Yes, there he is!

- Yes, yes! - Wine! Wine for Ulf the Dragonlord!

Ulf the Dragonlord! Ulf the Dragonlord!

I don't want you to go.

I have to, Kat.

We'll go to my brother in Tumbleton.

They'll have food. You'll find work.

I can't ignore this.

I never knew my father.

That much is true.

But I did know my mother.

I hid it from you.

And I'm sorry for that.

She worked

in a pleasure house.

She was granted more freedom than most

because of who she was.

And because rich men paid more to fuck a woman with silver hair.

She used to tell me

I was no different to her brother's boys,

Viserys and Daemon.

But I was ashamed of her.

I tried to make my way with my own hands.

I could not protect you.

I could not keep our girl alive.

And now,

we would never want again.

If I claimed a dragon

they'd make you a lady.

I do not care to be a lady, Hugh.

And neither do I want to be a widow.

I have to do somethin'.

THIS IS AN ABOMINATION.

WHAT DO YOU SPEAK OF?

YOU SENT AN ANDAL BEFORE A DRAGON.

THE JUDGEMENT WAS DELIVERED.

NOW YOU WOULD SEND MORE?

SER STEFFON DARKLYN WAS THE BLOOD OF THE DRAGON.

IT WAS A BLASPHEMY.

HE WAS NO DRAGONLORD.

NEITHER ARE THESE.

AND YET THE GODS HAVE SET THEM BEFORE US.

YOU HAVE SET THEM BEFORE YOURSELF.

THE DRAGONS ARE SACRED;

THEY ARE THE LAST MAGIC OF OLD VALYRIA IN THIS SAD WORLD.

THEY ARE NOT PLAYTHINGS FOR THE GAMES OF MEN.

OUR ORDER WILL TAKE NO PART IN THIS.

I used to think I knew what it was to claim a dragon, but

I understand now that what I thought I knew is

ash in the wind.

Perhaps it is blood.

Or worth.

Or perhaps it's something else.

Each of you has left behind a life to answer this call.

A life to which you might never return.

If you survive, you will be transformed.

No man or woman can face a dragon and be otherwise.

Some of you may welcome the prospect of change,

even death, given the alternatives:

privation, starvation, war.

This is our purpose, to end those hardships.

For you,

for your kin, for all the realm.

With these two dragons added to our number,

the enemy will have no choice but to give way.

And peace will be restored,

suffering will be ended,

and without bloodshed,

gods willing.

The dragon

named Vermithor

is the largest in the world after Vhagar

and, perhaps, the most fierce.

He's called the Bronze Fury.

We'll go to him now.

And...

may the gods bless you.

COME FORWARD,

VERMITHOR.

BE CALM, VERMITHOR.

BE CALM.

SERVE!

Who among you would be first?

I have nothing more to tell you.

It must be the dragon who speaks.

- Your Grace, we must away! - No.

Help me! Help--

Help me!

Oh, f--

No!

Here! Here I am!

I'm ready.

Come on!

"Lord Ormund Hightower makes slow progress.

"There is great concern that his host

is threatened on two fronts by armies allied with House Beesbury."

However, in happier tidings, Prince Daeron's dragon, Tessarion,

has at last taken to wing.

Your brother expects to join the fight soon.

Dragon!

And when he does, the Hightower host will be unstoppable.

Dragon! Inside! Now!

Take positions!

Open the gates!

NO, VHAGAR.

FLEE, VHAGAR.

TURN AROUND!