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CRISTON COLE:
What I saw at Rook's Rest...

♪ (TENSE MUSIC PLAYS) ♪

...we have given the war
to the dragons.

ALFRED BROOME: Our largest
dragon has been killed.

We still have no ground army

but the one we hope
that Daemon will raise.

Go to Harrenhal.
Find out his state of mind.

When I take King's Landing,

Rhaenyra is welcome
to take her place by my side.

CRISTON:
Aemond is the next in line.

ALICENT HIGHTOWER:
You know what he is.

What he has somehow become.

RHAENA TARGARYEN: Queen Rhaenyra
wishes to name you Hand.

To serve with a sea snake
is to make your fortune.

Brother, he owes you.
He owes us.

The Brackens had their chance
to do as I required.

Dragon or no, we shall not raise
our banners for a tyrant.

RHAENYRA: It breaks my heart
to send my boys away.

Go with them.

Make this sacrifice
willingly for all of us.

KAT: There is no food.

The city's safe no longer.

The people see an ill omen.

And you think
they will turn to me?

MYSARIA: There is more than
one way to fight a war.

I have an errand
for the Lady Mysaria.

Jason Lannister is marshalling
to the west.

We need to check him
before he reaches Riverrun.

Aemond will not wait long
to press his advantage.

I need dragons.

We have Vermithor
and Silverwing.

If only they had riders,
none could stand against me.

There are those of our line
who never ruled.

♪ (MUSIC STOPS)

It's a mad thought.

(epic theme playing)

♪♪

(theme concludes)

(dramatic music playing)

(horse neighs)

♪♪

(music fades out)

Humfrey Lefford:
The Golden Tooth

is honored to receive you,
my Lord Lannister.

I have 500
fighting men, armed

- and full of spirit.
- I bring a thousand knights of my own,

and seven times as many archers
and men-at-arms.

By the time we are finished
with the Riverland scum,

the Red Fork
will have earned its name.

We are ready to march
at your command, my lord.

I suppose you will make
for Harrenhal at once.

I want you to send
a raven to King's Landing.

Tell my brother
we are ready to march

as soon as Prince Aemond
is able to join us...

on Vhagar.

And until the prince
makes his answer, my lord?

My men have had
a long march.

They are most eager
to embrace the hospitality

- of your keep.
- (horses neighing)

(lion roars)

He dares to summon me!

"With haste"?

Are the Lannisters so diminished that
they cannot march

from the Tooth to Harrenhal
without an escort?

There is a large dragon
in the Riverlands, Your Grace.

- My brother's army is strong, but it does seem...
- I am the prince regent,

not a dog to be
called to heel.

Tell your brother
that if he does not deliver his host

to Harrenhal,
"with haste,"

Daemon's dragon will become
the least of his worries.

Your irritations are
justified, Aemond,

- but it does seem...
- Aemond Targaryen: I have a task for you

as well,
Ser Tyland.

(birds chirping)

We will make an alliance
with the Triarchy.

I've had enough
of this cursed blockade.

My prince... you cannot mean to treat
with the Free Cities.

The captains of their ships
are dangerous mercenaries,

- little more than pirates...
- They are a stone's throw away

across the Narrow Sea.

Lannister and Hightower
ships will take months to arrive.

The Triarchy will delight in the chance
to terrorize the Sea Snake again.

Let them weaken
his blockade

while our true allies make
their long journey east.

The Triarchy may play
at accepting terms,

but they are not
to be trusted.

Your father
knew this.

What has come
of our letters to the Greyjoys?

They have been
to no avail.

The Red Kraken waits,

seeking his
best advantage.

Though we may draw him in with honey,
if it comes to it.

An offer of marriage,
perhaps,

to the dowager queen?

Out of the question.

Alas.

The dowager queen
speaks wisely, Your Grace.

Even if the blockade
could be broken,

are we to invite these alien raiders
into our waters,

so close
to King's Landing?

It's time you set out
for Harrenhal, I think.

Your Grace, if Daemon prevails
in the Riverlands,

I no longer have the numbers
to challenge him.

We lost much
at Rook's Rest,

as you well know.

The longer we wait,
the more chance he will prevail.

Lannister will march
from the west.

Take what strength we have
and force Daemon

- and his Riverlords to fight on two fronts.
- His Grace speaks wisely.

Criston Cole: We would do better
to await the Hightower host

- and set out in good time.
- Aemond: There is no time.

It's a fortnight's
march to Harrenhal.

We must strike before
his army is raised.

Criston:
And you yourself?

I will fly out to meet you
when the time is ripe.

My uncle is
a challenge I welcome...

if he dares face me.

I see we're all agreed.

Your Grace.

(door opens)

Mother...

a word.

(distant chatter)

(door closes)

I caution you,
Aemond,

- boldness is one thing, but overconfidence...
- Remind me of your place

on the small council.

You know very well
I represented

your father during
the last years of his life,

- and I have been a councilor to Aegon.
- Capably so.

My father's dead

and Aegon is...

Mm.

You served
the realm well...

at a time of need.

That need is ended.
You are no longer obliged.

It's not a matter
of obligation.

This council has need
of a tempering voice.

We have more than enough of those,
if you ask me.

You have
the impetuousness of youth...

and its arrogance,

neither of which
is to be desired in a king.

I release you
of your seat,

such as it was.

I'm sure you'll be
much pleased to return to more...

domestic pursuits.

(birds chirping)

Have the indignities
of your childhood

not yet sufficiently
been avenged?

You have
the gratitude of the crown.

(breathing heavily)

(pensive music playing)

(indistinct chatter)

♪♪

Your Grace.

(music fades out)

Bring him forth.

guard: Ser Steffon Darklyn,
Your Grace.

Is aught amiss,
Your Grace?

My lords.

I find myself,
Ser Steffon,

in an impossible
position.

(inhales) I have lost
Princess Rhaenys

and her dragon.

I hold an island seat
with no land army.

And I must not go
to battle myself...

as I am constantly told,

lest I am slain
or captured,

and... with me,
our hopes of victory.

There is still Daemon and Caraxes...
and the Rivermen.

That remains
to be seen.

In any case, I must now proceed
as if I stand alone.

And I see now,
that to do that,

I need more
dragonriders

for Vermithor and Silverwing,
and for Seasmoke,

who I believe
misses his bond.

But there are no more in your family,
Your Grace.

- Your younger sons are babes.
- Rhaenyra Targaryen: Mm.

Mm, there is
Princess Rhaena.

She has
attempted it, alas,

but the dragons here
would not take her as a rider.

- Then who could do it?
- You.

(chuckles)

You are
of noble birth.

And I had always heard,
as you know,

that the Darklyns and the Targaryens
had some common blood.

I looked into the history,
and indeed it is true.

Your grandmother's
grandmother, Aeriana,

- was born a Targaryen princess.
- (Bartimos sighs)

And I have been
thinking,

could it be possible?

To even consider
such a thing.

I must protest,
Your Grace,

the risk involved
in such a venture...

I am but a man.

The dragons
are gods.

Your Grace honors me
beyond what I deserve.

You understand your peril,
Ser Steffon?

I do not compel you
to do this.

It has never been
attempted before.

To claim a dragon,
you must also be prepared to die.

I well understand the risk
and I accept it with gladness.

I swore to ward
my queen with all my strength,

and to give
my blood for hers.

That is my oath,
Your Grace.

Then perhaps
the gods will favor us.

(unsettling sounds)

(footsteps echoing)

(softly)
Brother?

- (ominous sounds)
- (door closes)

Viserys Targaryen (echoing):
Did you say it?

"The Heir for a Day."

Did you say it?

(softly) You can't possibly
still be angry about this.

My family was
just destroyed.

You should've
been at my side.

But instead you chose
to celebrate your own rise.

Laughing at me...

laughing with the whores
and lickspittles.

No.

You have no allies
at court but me.

I have only ever
defended you.

And everything I've given you,
you've thrown back in my face!

- I have decided...
- Don't.

...to name
a new heir.

You are to return
to Runestone

and your lady wife
at once,

and you are to do so
without quarrel,

by order of your king.

(Viserys crying quietly)

(door rattles)

(echoes)
No!

Open the door!

Open the door!

(high-pitched ringing)

(heavy breathing)

(softly)
Open the door. Please.

Please.

Please. Ah!

(Daemon panting)

May I be of assistance,
Your Grace?

- What are you playing at, old man?
- I do wonder, Your Grace,

if you're getting
enough sleep.

- This old place...
- Are you mocking me?

- No.
- Sit!

(Daemon panting)

Or are you perhaps the culprit
who has been tampering with my peace?

A friend by day
and a foe by night.

- To what end?
- To mine, perhaps.

Ah!

Perhaps...
you resent my being here.

Perhaps...

you are an agent

- of the Hightower rabble.
- (Simon whimpering)

Ha. Or are you
still in league

with your
club-footed nephew?

- Or is it Rhaenyra herself?!
- I assure you...

I assure you,
Your Grace.

(laughing)

(shushing)

Whatever your game is,
Strong...

I assure you...

- your king is on his guard.
- Yes, Your Grace.

And stop
watching me.

(tense music playing)

(Caraxes calls)

♪♪

You weren't going
to bid me farewell?

There's something
wrong with me.

Someone poisoned me.
The food, the wine.

Or else it's this
swamp air, or...

The ghost
of Harren the Black

moaning his curses
from Kingspyre Tower.

Drivel!
All of it!

The ghosts, the curses,
the blasted weirwood bed!

- I'm done with it!
- Ah, yes. It is your way, is it not?

When something does not please you,
you run.

Dragonstone,
the Stepstones,

Pentos, Harrenhal.

I awake and I do not
know where I've been.

There are older things
in this world

than you or I,
or living memory.

You are not the player,
but a piece on the board.

As am I,
for that matter.

I'm not like you.

- (Caraxes screeches)
- In some ways, no.

You struggle to see
there's an anger that blinds you.

She never even wanted it.

The crown.
She spared it no thought.

Well, that's perhaps
why your brother gave the crown to her.

Perhaps those
who strive for it

are the least
suited to wear it.

Don't lecture me!

Viserys never wanted it himself,
if you recall.

It came to him,
and he did his best.

It's not a prize to be won,
but a burden to bear.

(Caraxes calling)

(wind blowing)

If you have any counsel for dealing
with the Riverlords,

I'd be glad of it.

Daemon Targaryen
asking for help?

Counsel.

(Caraxes grumbling)

House Tully is not the largest house
in the Riverlands,

nor is it
the richest,

but it is
the most stable.

The Tullys'
wisdom has kept

the river houses
in line for centuries.

They would kill each other
to the last man

- if it were not for their liege lord.
- (chuckles)

That dotard is
of no use to us.

But Grover Tully is
their Lord Paramount.

Without him, they will never raise
their banners as one.

Rivermen are
made of mud.

They would rather
die stuck in it

than yield one inch
to one another.

Then I can
do nothing.

You... no.

(owl screeching)

I need help, Alys.

Do nothing now.

In three days' time,
the winds will shift.

(Caraxes screeching)

(dragonkeepers chanting hymn)

(chanting continues)

(hymn concludes)

(muttering softly)

(silence)

(unsettling sounds)

(wind blowing)

(dragon grumbling)

(heavy footsteps)

(dragon screeches)

(tense music playing)

(dragonkeepers
shouting commands)

(roars)

♪♪

(speaking High Valyrian)

Gods.

(dragonkeeper speaks
High Valyrian)

(grumbles)

Seasmoke...

Dohaeras.

(Seasmoke screeches)

(dragonkeeper speaks
High Valyrian)

♪♪

dragonkeeper:
Do not show fear.

Rybas!

(speaks High Valyrian)

(music fades out)

(grumbling)

(exhales)

(light, suspenseful
music playing)

♪♪

(Seasmoke screeches)

♪♪

I've done it.

(screeches)

(dragonkeeper speaks
High Valyrian)

- (screeches)
- No.

(dragonkeepers,
Steffon yelling)

(dramatic music playing)

(Seasmoke screeches)

(shouts in High Valyrian)

(agonized shouting)

Mother!

♪♪

worker: Up, up, up!

(indistinct chatter)

Corlys Velaryon:
Alyn!

Alyn of Hull:
M'lord.

Corlys: I'm pleased
with our progress.

This ship will sail
in a few days' time.

The blockade
is sure to be challenged,

be it by Lions
or Krakens.

Your men will be
glad to have you among 'em.

I wish you
to sail with me.

As my first mate.

I'm grateful for the offer,
m'lord...

- but...
- We will set course for Sharp Point.

Lord Bar Emmon wishes to send
his nephew aboard as a boatswain.

There are more experienced men
at your service.

I was younger
than you

when I took
my first command.

You distinguished yourself
in the Stepstones,

and you have
the respect of the crew.

You are a fine choice
for this post.

Is this an order
or a request?

(chuckles) I will expect
you to report

for your duties
on the morrow.

As my lordship commands.

(indistinct chatter)

(quiet chatter)

- Bit thin, isn't it?
- Dyana: It's either that or the fish.

Nothing but fish
in this damn city.

patron:
An ale here.

Dyana:
Aught to eat with it?

patron: Don't think
I can stomach it, lass.

Yeah, you've made the right choice there,
I'll tell you that.

Makes you sick,
doesn't it?

Knowing they're banqueting
every night at the castle,

- while we go without.
- Dyana: That can't be true.

Madam Sylvi: My girls were taken to
the Red Keep a few nights ago.

Feasting and merriment
for the new Prince Regent.

Dyana (hushed): No! And him always
acting so correct.

Sylvi: I'll tell you,
he's no penny pincher.

- They were well-paid, and well-fed too.
- Dyana: Hm.

On what?
Fish with more fish on the side?

Racks of lamb,
my love.

Mince pies,
honey cakes,

beef and gravy.

And what do you think?

There is to be another revel
on the morrow with dancing.

That ain't right.

Apologies,
my good man.

I should not have
spoken so free.

The royals would never
countenance me

speaking about their bounty,
even if it's true.

King Viserys loved his feasts
and his wine,

but never while
our smallfolk went without.

Mm, aye.
But he's gone now...

and his rightful heir
denied her seat.

Well... no use wondering
what might have been.

(muffled speaking)

Bartimos Celtigar:...I am far from alone
among your councilors

in holding this to be
a truly unfortunate result, Your Grace.

Seasmoke has
fled Dragonstone,

and Ser Steffon
was a valiant knight.

Most regrettable,

if, perhaps,
foreseeable.

I myself,
if you recall,

was in favor of treating
with Lord Mooton

to march
on Rook's Rest.

A more
conventional approach,

true, not
as sensational.

And, uh, his...
his numbers were few,

but we may
yet retake...

It is my fault, I think,
that you have forgotten to fear me.

(tense music playing)

♪♪

♪♪

Mysaria: It was worth the risk,
no matter the outcome.

More good men killed?

- That's my fault.
- Ser Steffon went willingly.

It was
a reckless thought.

That an ancient
Valyrian beast

would suffer
a Darklyn to ride it.

Surely he was
not the only possibility.

Might there
not be others

among the highborn
of the Seven Kingdoms?

And who will be
so foolish as to try,

after hearing what
befell Ser Steffon?

(nearby dragon grumbles)

I will
look again.

But Darklyn had
the most likely claim.

There is good news
to be had.

The smallfolk
of King's Landing are listening.

They were ready
enough to hear.

The usurpers have
abandoned them.

They are hungry,
and they need someone to blame.

Will it
be enough?

We have laid
the kindling only.

Tonight we
will light it,

and watch it
begin to flare.

And when it does,
Aemond will put it down with force.

That will make it
rise the hotter.

He cannot destroy
his own city.

Neither can they
overthrow him.

Maybe not, but it is harder
to wage war abroad

when you must also
keep peace at home.

Then let us see
to our plan.

If I may,
Your Grace...

this becomes you.

(pensive music playing)

(street chatter)

(dog barking)

- That's the last one.
- Thank you.

- What? They haven't run out, have they?
- Nothing.

There ain't
nothing left.

I've been waiting all day.
I'll take anything. Scraps?

(horse neighs)

(sheep bleating)

(light, tense music playing)

Got enough sheep for your dragons then,
but none for us.

Where's our meat?
We want meat!

(smallfolk shouting)

Jasper "Ironrod" Wylde:
It seems, Your Grace,

that the smallfolk
have become restless.

Aemond:
So?

Ironrod: There is not
food enough in the city.

Those with means
have bought more than their share.

All the more reason
Ser Tyland must break the blockade.

In the meantime,
the people are hungry,

and their anger
is rising.

The enemy without
may be fought with swords.

The enemy within
is more insidious.

Why is this anger
directed at us?

It is Rhaenyra
the Pretender

who ordered
the Gullet closed

and left them
all to starve.

They still look to you to ensure
their well-being.

That is the burden
of authority.

But you should not
go it alone.

It does occur to me that Your Grace
has yet to name a Hand.

Ser Criston, of course,
served your brother,

but you need one
who may advance your cause...

with shrewdness
and subtlety.

Do you take me
for a fool?

- On the contrary, my prince.
- Aemond: I've little patience

for the self-important,
Lord Larys,

and even less
for flatterers and lickspittles.

But you are,
as it happens, correct.

Every king
needs a Hand.

I'll make it
your responsibility.

(clears throat) My prince, it is an honor
I'd never considered

- for myself.
- No, not to serve as Hand, you toad.

To fetch him.
Send word to Otto Hightower.

My grandsire may
be overcautious,

but his devotion to his family
has never been in doubt.

Mm, you'll
see it done.

(whispers)
Your Grace.

- (door closes)
- You're late.

I am happy to report
that His Grace the king

has regained
consciousness this morning,

if only
for a few moments.

Ironrod: You said there was
little hope.

Grand Maester Orwyle:
He is stronger than I thought.

This morning
his breath comes easier.

He may yet live,
thank the gods.

What happy news.

(Aegon whimpering)

(groaning)

- (labored breathing)
- (door opens)

Aemond:
I'll see my brother.

Alone.

(Aegon groaning)

(bell tolling)

(shallow breathing)

(panicked groaning)

(shushing)

What do you
remember?

(hoarsely)
Nothing.

(grunting)

You challenged
Meleys.

It was foolish.

I remember... nothing.

(groaning)

(door opens)

- My prince?
- You're in the most capable hands, Your Grace.

It seems my brother has
a long recovery ahead of him, Grand Maester.

See that he is made
to rest comfortably.

Rhaena Targaryen: And I've decided
there is nothing

to be gained
with fretfulness.

Not all of us, I suppose,
are called to great deeds.

Some of us must serve
in smaller ways...

even if they are not what we would
choose for ourselves.

(sighs)
Meaning no offense, hm?

None of this
is your fault.

(Rhaena sighs)

I want Mother.

Yes... well...

I know
it's difficult, but...

(sheep bleating)

(unsettling music playing)

(dragon screeches)

♪♪

(screeches)

- (footsteps approach)
- (music fades out)

Jeyne Arryn:
I bring good news, Rhaena.

Prince Reggio
has answered your letter.

He'll be most pleased
to shelter Rhaenyra's

youngest sons
in Pentos.

And their
half-sister.

(Jeyne chuckles)

Thought you'd
be happy.

Or at least
less morose.

- (Rhaena chuckles slightly)
- You hate it here.

You misled me, my lady.

I did what?

There is a large
dragon in the Vale.

(dragon screeches)

Rumor of it began shortly
after the war.

Ranging more broadly
for food...

my maesters
surmise.

It is large and formidable,
but alas, wild.

Alas.

A merchant cog,
the Gay Abandon,

will take you to Pentos.

I'll send six good men
to protect you on the crossing.

(dragon screeches)

- (birds cawing)
- (bell ringing)

(indistinct chatter)

You know you're
not fooling anyone.

Lord Corlys has chosen
to raise you up

to serve alongside him

and yet,
you still continue this subterfuge.

Don't want my men
to get the wrong idea.

About what?

- You're just like him.
- (laughs)

Oh, you make an art
of provoking me.

Addam of Hull: You saved his life,
brother.

Do you never think
about what could be ours?

Or yours, anyway.

The riches...
servants...

the Driftwood Throne.

We spent the whole
of our lives

in the shadow
of the Sea Snake's great castle.

I do not wish
to dwell in it any longer.

Hm, and so you belittle
your great opportunity.

While me (sucks teeth)
he ignores...

as he always has.

The Sea Snake
would sooner have High Tide

claimed by the sea
than call us his sons.

Stop wasting your life waiting
for something that'll never come.

- (bell ringing)
- (outside chatter)

(birds cawing)

- (wind blowing)
- (footsteps)

It was
a bold attempt.

I admire
you for it.

They say you struck
Lord Bartimos today

in view of the staff
and guard.

The household
is abuzz with it.

He's lucky I did not
have his tongue.

And what did he say
that was so

deserving?

I have tired
of being protected...

Jace.

I bring to mind
too much their mothers

or their daughters.

They must see
in me a ruler.

And the symbols of authority
are not jewels and gowns,

but the shield
and the sword.

My ruler is
my mother.

And I do not wish
it otherwise.

Will you lead us
to war yourself?

Well, for a certainty
I cannot remain here,

pacing the floors, waiting for defeat
and despair to visit me.

- Oh, don't be ridiculous.
- I'm doing all I can.

I have directed
Lord Mooton to march on Rook's Rest,

and sent another raven
to the Vale to persuade...

We may marshal
the strength of the Vale,

Maidenpool, and all
our allies besides.

We will still never match
the strength of the Green armies.

We need Daemon
and his dragon.

May I be free
for even one hour

of the constant refrain of Daemon,
Daemon, Daemon...

Lorent Marbrand:
Your Grace.

The lady Mysaria.

My queen,
our gift is sent.

What gift?

Let us hope for clouds over
the Blackwater tonight.

(light, tense music playing)

(wind blowing)

(music intensifies)

(birds cawing)

(music softens)

♪♪

♪♪

(music intensifies)

(music fades out)

- (sighs)
- (birds cawing)

(Aegon snoring lightly)

(door opens)

(footsteps approach)

You said he'd improved.

His Grace sleeps nine hours
of every 10...

but he did open his eyes and speak,
however briefly.

His mending may be
long and painful,

but it is
my sincere hope

that His Grace
will be spared.

And what will he
be if he lives?

(birds chirping)

My letters (sniffles)
to my father...

I have sent ravens, again,
to Highgarden and to Oldtown.

And now, to all
the great houses in the Reach.

There has been no word
from Ser Otto,

as of yet.

There is war in the Reach now,
Your Grace.

House Beesbury has raised arms against
the Hightower host.

Retribution for
their lord's demise.

(Alicent sniffles)

(crying)
I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

(deep breath)

(birds chirping)

(deep breath)

(indistinct chatter)

(horses neighing)

Gwayne Hightower:
Sister.

Gwayne.

'Tis well that
I found you.

I wish to give you
my blessing.

Well...

my thanks
to the queen dowager.

I wondered if you've
heard from father?

I've sent ravens to Highgarden
and Oldtown,

but have
had no reply.

I've heard nothing

but neither have
I sent any message.

If he wrote letters,
it would be to you.

You were always
his favorite.

Strange there
has been no word.

Otto Hightower is
ever-resourceful.

He will send news
when there is news to send.

I often wonder what
life could've been

if he had brought
you to court instead.

I'm the eldest son.

It was right
that I was raised at Oldtown.

But you were eight years of age
and motherless.

It must've
been difficult.

(sighs) You get on with it,
don't you?

When there
isn't any choice.

My son, Daeron...

what's he like?

- Does he not write to you?
- Less and less these days.

Ten-and-six now.

Letters, perhaps,
hold less of his interest.

He's stalwart.

Clever.

As adept with his lute
as he is with his sword.

And a feature
in the fancies of many

a young lady,
I'll wager.

He's kind.

That's good.

- Kindness is a quality I've found lacking in his brothers.
- Mm.

You did well
to send him to ward.

Yes, it seems
the Red Keep,

for all its
privileges,

may, in fact, be a less
than salubrious environment

for the forming
of young men.

Was it the court
or was it their mother?

I'm sure you
did your best.

I must join
Ser Criston.

Wish us luck, sister.

I shall pray to the Warrior
for your safe return.

(Gwayne chuckles)

Mm...

Farewell.

(solemn music playing)

♪♪

(crickets chirping)

(music fades out)

Your Grace.

This one stopped singing.

Isn't that strange?

(inhales) I thought
we might light a candle.

For Aegon...

and all our
lost souls.

(street chatter)

(light, tense music playing)

(dog whimpers)

(smallfolk shouting)

Hugh: You, where'd you
get that food?!

- Rhaenyra's ships.
- Ships?

They came ashore
in the middle of the night

with gifts
from the queen.

She thinks of us,
even now!

(dramatic music playing)

(shouting)

Give me that!

- (fighting, grunting)
- Give it to me!

(horse neighs)

knight:
Get out of the way!

♪♪

(panting)

♪♪

(smallfolk shouting in streets)

(music quiets)

(smallfolk shouting nearby)

Your Graces...
we must leave, now.

(bell tolling)

(smallfolk shouting)

Get the queens
to the wheelhouse!

Mind your flanks.
Protect your corners.

Keep moving.
This way, Your Grace.

'Tis the Queen
of Fishes!

- (Alicent grunts)
- (Helaena gasps)

Rickard Thorne:
Keep moving!

- (Helaena gasps)
- Long live Queen Rhaenyra!

Alicent Hightower:
Get to the wheelhouse!

smallfolk:
Long live Queen Rhaenyra!

Helaena!
(grunts)

Your Grace!

(shouting)

- My queen!
- Leon Estermont: Get off!

- No! No!
- (yelling)

- (crowd gasps)
- Alicent: Sheathe your swords!

Sheathe your swords!

- (crowd yelling)
- (knight shouting)

Rickard:
You heard the queen!

Sheathe those swords!

- No!
- (Helaena panicking)

- Get back!
- Go, Helaena, go!

Rickard: Out of my way!
Out of my way!

(grunting, fighting)

- (Leon yelling)
- knight: Estermont!

Rickard: My Queens!
This way, inside!

(Leon yelling)

(tense music playing)

(both panting)

(music stops)

- (bell tolling)
- smallfolk: Long live Queen Rhaenyra!

Long live Queen Rhaenyra!

(shouting)

Rickard:
Run them down if you must.

Ride! Ride!

(tense music resumes)

(horse neighs)

(music intensifies)

(birds cawing)

(music fades out)

- (Aegon groaning)
- (footsteps approach)

Larys Strong:
No more.

- My lord. Only...
- (Aegon wincing)

...the Grand Maester
instructed me to.

The king will be most eager
for his draught,

in an hour.

(Aegon grunting)

(door opens)

(door closes)

The drink takes
the pain away,

- but it dulls your mind.
- (Aegon grunting)

Oh, take heart,
Your Grace,

you've already written
yourself into legend.

You survived
dragonfire.

But I'm afraid you
will never be whole.

Orwyle has exhausted
his abilities.

He's bound
your leg...

but you will
never run again.

(shallow breathing)

Your mind...

is all that
remains to you.

I do not
say that gladly.

I came screaming
into the world

in the bowels of one
of Harren's great towers.

My lungs were strong,
but my foot

so twisted that...

my father named
it sorcery.

Accusing a member
of our household

of casting...
maligned spells.

(softly)
Well.

People will
pity you

either behind
your back...

or in your
presence.

(cries)

And they will stare...

at you, at you...

or turn away.

And they will
underestimate you.

And this will be
your advantage.

No, n... No.

(Aegon coughs)

Your brother rules
in your place now,

which means that
your life is in danger.

But I think
you know that.

(struggling)
Help me.

(shudders)

(eerie sounds)

(person crying)

Brother.

(crying)
Daemon, she's gone.

I'm sorry.

You needed me.

I'm here now.

(Viserys weeping)

I'm here now.

Simon Strong:
Your Grace.

Sorrowful news
from Riverrun, my king.

Lord Grover is dead.

Uhh... the old man.

Indeed.

Young Oscar Tully
is now Lord Paramount of the Riverlands.

What was the manner
of Lord Grover's passing?

- Well, he'd been ill, of course.
- Mm-hmm.

Riverrun's
maesters...

have been
at their wits' end.

Our own healer,
Alys Rivers,

volunteered her
renowned skills.

She plied
her craft, but...

there was naught
more to be done.

(crying)

(birds cawing)

- (indistinct chatter)
- (dragon roars)

worker:
Hey, look!

(Seasmoke screeches)

Get inside! Hurry!

(all yelling)

(roars)

(grunts)

(panting)

(tense music playing)

(Seasmoke screeches)

(roars)

♪♪

(screeches)

- (grunting)
- (music stops)

(panting)

(birds cawing)

- (tense music resumes)
- (gasps)

(roars)

(grumbling)

♪♪

(heavy breathing)

(music fades out)

Mysaria: Your banners were carried
from the ship into the city.

They went as far
as the gates of the Red Keep

before they
were turned away.

It is, as we hoped,
a warning to the usurpers

that you have strength
beyond what they accredited.

I thought
you'd be pleased.

I do not think
I can win this war.

I think you
are tired.

My own son questions
my capabilities.

He thinks I need
Daemon at my side.

- And Daemon himself.
- He has ever done what suits Daemon.

He was everything
I wanted to be.

Carefree.

And dangerous.

A man.

And I was what
he wanted.

Cherished by
my father,

and made
my father's heir.

We were halves
of a whole.

(whispers)
He's never been at peace.

(normal) He wished
to possess me,

but not to be
possessed

and to see me
take hold, finally,

of what he always
believed to be his.

I fear what
he may now do.

I fear he may have
turned against me.

It is more his way
to disappear.

In either case,
I have lost him...

and Caraxes with him.

Rhaenys and her dragon
are dead.

I have Syrax
and two young beasts.

We cannot take
on Vhagar alone.

- And I have no army.
- You have the Velaryon fleet and the men who fight in it.

It's not enough.

And even if we
somehow prevailed,

how will I rule
a kingdom

when my own
son doubts me?

You have me.

You have my thanks...
Truly.

It was my father.

I was still a child.

He...
had his pleasure with me.

And when,
after many months of this,

it became evident
that his seed had taken root.

There is a scar
here as well.

I cannot
bear children.

He left me
for dead...

but I lived.

- (softly) I'm so sorry.
- Swore to myself I would never trust another.

And... that oath
has stood me well.

This world is
cold and cruel,

and there are few in it
who are steadfast.

You, I think,
are steadfast.

You have seen me as worthy,
as an equal, even.

Because of that,
I will serve you.

I believe you are
meant to be queen.

(both breathing heavily)

(light music playing)

- (knocks at door)
- (door opens)

Begging your pardon,
Your Grace.

The dragon Seasmoke
has been sighted flying over Spicetown.

Yes, he does that.

From what
we have heard...

he has a rider.

- Mysaria: Who?
- Impossible to tell from the ground.

- The Greens?
- I don't know who else it could be.

Shall I summon
your counsel?

(tense music playing)

(Syrax roars)

Jacaerys Velaryon:
Mother!

♪♪

(roars)

(light, curious music playing)

♪♪

♪ (TENSE MUSIC PLAYS)

RHAENYRA TARGARYEN: You stand with a dragon
of House Targaryen!

What do you want?

ALICENT HIGHTOWER:
All my life,

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

And somehow,
none of it matters.

It does seem to me that
you've made rather a mess here.

Whose side are you on?

The old ways call for justice.

♪ (EPIC MUSIC PLAYS)

Prince Daeron's dragon
has taken to wing.

The Hightower host
will be unstoppable.

House Targaryen
is the blood of the dragon.

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

♪ (MUSIC SWELLS) ♪

RHAENYRA: Thousands will die.

With these dragons,
peace will be restored.

(DRAGON GROWLS)

♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES)

ANDRIJ PAREKH: Episode 206
is entitled "Small Folk."

The camera is constantly
circling characters

to give the sense that
this world is turning

very slowly amidst this battle

between the Blacks
and the Greens.

In a way, it's a boiling over
of all of these things

that have been simmering
for so long.

♪ (TENSE MUSIC PLAYS) ♪

He dares to summon me
with haste?

I find Aemond to be one of
the most interesting characters.

He's driven by
a very cold rationality.

Aegon makes choices
out of fear or anger,

whereas Aemond's revenge
will always be served cold.

FABIEN FRANKEL:
Aegon has so many people

constantly trying
to puppeteer him.

It's Larys, or it's Alicent,
or it was Otto.

Whereas now, we've got Aemond.

He's very difficult
to manipulate.

In a state of war,
he's going to fight,

just like Daemon.

My uncle is a challenge
I welcome,

if he dares face me.

I think Aemond is obsessed
with Daemon, in a way.

I think he grew up
in Daemon's shadow

and hearing about
the mystique of him.

Aemond has spun Daemon up
into being this rival of his

and also somebody that he wants
to emulate,

and then probably kill one day.

Mother? A word.

OLIVIA COOKE: I think Aemond
genuinely sees Alicent

as no more than
his mother and a woman.

So, why would she be
on the small council?

Aemond sees the world
in a very black and white way.

We've always talked about
Aemond as being

the ultimate pragmatist.

So, he is not banishing
his mother from the council

out of cruelty.

It's very simply like,
"I'm sorry,

what is it that you do here,
and what's your role?"

You served the realm well...

at a time of need.

That need has ended.

So long as he's seen
as this indestructible,

horror icon-esque,
Terminator-like figure,

he'll be forever all-powerful.

Have the indignities
of your childhood

not yet sufficiently
been avenged?

OLIVIA: She tries to penetrate
whatever heart he has left,

but it's to no avail.

Ser Steffon Darklyn,
Your Grace.

RHAENYRA TARGARYEN:
I need more dragonriders.

- Who could do it?
- You.

RYAN CONDAL: I think it's an act
out of desperation of Rhaenyra's

because she realizes

she's never going to have
the ground army.

She doesn't know
how Daemon is going to break.

And even if the Riverlanders
do go her way,

they're still weeks away
by March.

She takes another one
of these pretty outlandish,

but understandable risks
in trying to put

Steffon Darklyn on a dragon.

Perhaps the gods will favor us.

EMMA D'ARCY: The first part
of this journey

is kind of an act
of magical thinking.

And I don't think
it's that pragmatic.

I think it's based on faith.

This is part of
the sort of fanaticism

that we start
to see her exhibit.

ANDRIJ: It's a very dangerous
thing to do

because you suddenly take
the idea

of Targaryen superiority
as dragonriders,

and you give it to anyone
that has Targaryen blood.

So, you sort of democratize
riding a dragon.

- (SEASMOKE GROWLS)
- Gods.

It is a risk to life and limb,
but on the other side of it,

it means being written into
the history books.

Darklyn gets intoxicated
by that idea,

and doesn't think about
the possible consequences,

which, sadly,
are quickly visited upon him.

(SPEAKING IN HIGH VALYRIAN)

(SEASMOKE SCREECHES)

Rhaenyra's last-ditch idea
literally goes up in flames.

LARYS STRONG: There is not
food enough in the city.

The people are hungry,
and their anger is rising.

MATTHEW NEEDHAM:
I think Larys is smart enough

to try and warn Aemond
that people are hungry.

And when people are hungry,
they become desperate.

When people become desperate,
things happen.

ANDRIJ: I think Larys
is suggesting this

in an effort to become the Hand.

And he wants to show Aemond
that he has an understanding

of what's happening.

Send word to Otto Hightower.

Your Grace.

ORWYLE: His Grace, the King,

has regained consciousness
this morning.

What happy news.

RYAN: Aemond has
had to accept the fact

that his brother survived,

and he now has to deal
with that,

but I don't think Aemond is
looking to give up his regency

any time soon either.

Ad hoc, he's the King.

And of course,
you'd want to hold on to that.

(PAINED GROAN)

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY:
Aegon is in grave danger,

now Aemond's, you know,
prowling around the castle.

He's always had these suspicions
of Aemond,

but never really taken them
too seriously.

He wants to be in that position
more than Aegon ever did.

It seems my brother has
a long recovery ahead of him,

Grand Maester.

If Aegon was to fully recover,

and he was to tell people
what Aemond did,

that puts Aemond's
newfound position in jeopardy.

And so, he's a major threat,
at this point.

It's getting pretty restless

in the streets
of King's Landing,

and I think all the sympathy
that they gained

after Jaehaerys' death,
a lot of that has been spent.

And you have people who are
scared and sick and hungry.

And when the masses
get restless,

they point at the person
in the highest levels of power,

and they blame them.

(COMMOTION)

HUGH HAMMER:
You, where'd you get that food?

Gifts from the Queen.
She thinks of us even now!

I think the people
of King's Landing

have learned by now,

the people in charge
are only going to give them

what they have to.

I don't think they're stupid,
and I think that's what happens.

I think the aristocracy
undermine people

as a collective.

Whoever's gonna supply them
and save them from the famine

is the person they're gonna
choose to be in charge.

ANDRIJ: Aemond's downfall is
that he doesn't understand

the power of the small folk.

Rhaenyra, through Mysaria,
comes to understand this.

SONOYA MIZUNO:
She knows what makes them tick.

She's one of them.

And not just how to win
their hearts,

but actually
what they really need.

Mysaria is giving Rhaenyra
that layer

that she's not getting from
anybody else in their council,

which is, how do I,
from so far away,

on this literal island
of Dragonstone,

touch and affect
King's Landing?

And in this war,

that psychological battle
is very important.

RICKARD THORNE: Your Graces,
we must leave.

Alicent goes through this whole
experience in this episode

of having all these layers
of her family

slowly stripped away from her.

Her father has gone missing,

and her son might not
survive his wounds.

Cole is off on the march,
Aemond is a monster,

and she goes to the Sept
to find comfort.

And even that is not
a sanctuary for her.

There's the Queen of Fishes!

(GASPS)

OLIVIA: There's a blockade.

There's no food.

The small folk are starving,

and so there's no wonder
that they see the royals

come in their cart
and all their finery,

and it's such a slap
in the face to them.

It's very Marie Antoinette,
"Let them eat cake."

It's cause for revolt.

The effects of Aegon
and now Aemond's reign

have bubbled over

and nearly taken her
and Helaena's life.

(BELL TOLLS)

It is, as we hoped,
a warning to the usurpers

that you have strength
beyond what they accredited.

It's been such an interesting
part of this series for me,

understanding that relationship.

You watch two people
who are deeply suspicious

of one another
develop a form of trust.

SONOYA: Their relationship
has found a dynamic

which is not dissimilar
to how they first met,

which was this kind of
open frankness and honesty,

and really taking each other
at face value.

In many ways, she is the
off-council Hand of Rhaenyra.

I think Mysaria's power
increases in Rhaenys' absence

because I think Rhaenyra
is desperate

and looking for that sympathetic
female voice in her life.

Within a patriarchal structure,

they underestimate both of us,
really.

I believe you are meant
to be Queen.

And to what extent is there
a degree of threat

in watching two women begin
to guide the path to war?

LORENT MARBRAND: Your Grace.

The dragon Seasmoke
has been sighted.

He has a rider.

ANDRIJ:
Seasmoke has been claimed,

and she needs to go
find out who,

leaving the audience wondering
what's going to happen next.

♪ (EERIE MUSIC PLAYS) ♪