House of the Dragon - Season 1 EP1.The Heirs of the Dragon

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    NARRATOR: As the first century

    of the Targaryen dynasty

    came to a close,

    the health of the Old King,

    Jaehaerys, was failing.

    In those days, House Targaryen

    stood at the height

    of its strength

    with 10 adult dragons

    under its yoke.

    No power in the world

    could stand against it.

    King Jaehaerys reigned

    over nearly 60 years

    of peace and prosperity.

    But tragedy had

    claimed both his sons,

    leaving his succession in doubt.

    So, in the year 101,

    the Old King called

    a Great Council

    to choose an heir.

    Over a thousand lords made

    the journey to Harrenhal.

    Fourteen succession

    claims were heard

    but only two were

    truly considered:

    Princess Rhaenys Targaryen,

    the King’s eldest descendant,

    and her younger cousin,

    Prince Viserys Targaryen,

    the King’s eldest

    male descendant.

    JAEHAERYS TARGARYEN: It is

    declared by all lords paramount

    and lords vassal

    of the Seven Kingdoms…

    that Prince Viserys Targaryen

    be made Prince of Dragons tone.

    NARRATOR: Rhaenys, a woman,

    would not inherit

    the Iron Throne.

    The lords instead

    chose Viserys…

    my father.

    Jaehaerys called

    the Great Council

    to prevent a war being

    fought over his succession.

    For he knew the cold truth.

    The only thing

    that could tear down

    the House of the Dragon…

    was itself.

    (EPIC THEME PLAYING)

    ♪ ♪

    (WIND BLOWING)

    (DRAGON CALLS)

    (GRAND MUSIC PLAYING)

    ♪ ♪

    (ROARING)

    ♪ ♪

    - (DRAGON ROARING)

    - (BIRDS CAWING)

    ♪ ♪

    (ROARS)

    (SPEAKING HIGH VALYRIAN)

    Dohaeras, Syrax!

    (SYRAX RUMBLING)

    Umbas.

    Rybas!

    (GRUNTS)

    (SYRAX PURRING)

    Ser Harrold We sterling:

    Welcome back, Princess.

    I trust your ride was pleasant.

    Try not to look

    too relieved, ser.

    We sterling: I am relieved.

    Every time that golden beast

    brings you back unspoiled,

    it saves my head from a spike.

    Syrax is growing quickly.

    She’ll soon be as

    large as Caraxes.

    That’s almost large

    enough to saddle two.

    I believe I’m quite content

    as a spectator, thank you.

    DRAGON KEEPER ELDER: (SPEAKING

    HIGH VALYRIAN) Dohaeras.

    (GRUMBLES, ROARS)

    Naejot!

    (ROARS)

    (HORSES NEIGHING)

    ♪ ♪

    (BIRDS CAWING)

    ♪ ♪

    ♪ ♪

    (INDISTINCT CHATTER)

    Ah… Rhaenyra.

    You know I don’t like

    you to go flying

    while I’m in this condition.

    You don’t like me to go flying

    while you’re in any condition.

    - Your Grace.

    - QUEEN AEMMA: Good morrow, Alicent.

    RHAENYRA: Did you sleep?

    - I slept.

    - How long?

    I don’t need mothering,

    Rhaenyra.

    Well, here you are,

    surrounded by attendants,

    all focused on the babe.

    Someone has to attend to you.

    You will lie in this bed

    soon enough, Rhaenyra.

    This discomfort is how

    we serve the realm.

    I’d rather serve as a knight

    and ride to battle and glory.

    (LAUGHS)

    We have royal wombs, you and I.

    The child bed is our battlefield.

    We must learn to face it

    with a stiff lip.

    Now take a bath.

    You stink of dragon.

    So, I said to him, “Well, I believe

    you might be looking up the wrong end.”

    (ALL LAUGHING)

    My lords.

    The growing alliance

    among the Free Cities

    has taken to styling

    itself “the Triarchy.”

    They have massed on Bloodstone

    and are presently

    ridding the Step stones

    of its pirate infestation.

    KING VISERYS: Well,

    that sounds suspiciously

    like good news, Lord Corlys.

    A man called Craghas Drahar

    has styled himself the

    prince-admiral of this Triarchy.

    They call him “The Crabfeeder”

    due to his inventive methods

    of punishing his enemies.

    KING VISERYS: And are we

    meant to weep for dead pirates?

    - LORD CORLYS: No, Your Grace.

    - Rhaenyra, you’re late.

    King’s cupbearer

    must not be late.

    - Leaves people wanting for cups.

    - I was visiting Mother.

    (SNIFFS) On dragon back?

    LYMAN BEESBURY: Hey, Your

    Grace, at Prince Daemon’s urging,

    the crown has invested

    significant capital

    in the re-training and

    re-equipping of his City Watch.

    I thought you might

    urge your brother

    to fill his seat on the council

    and provide an assessment

    of his progress

    as commander of the Watch.

    Do you think Daemon is

    distracted by his present tasks?

    And that his thoughts

    and energies are occupied?

    Well, one would hope so,

    considering the associated costs.

    Then let us all consider your

    gold well-invested, Lord Beesbury.

    I would urge that you not allow

    this Triarchy much latitude

    in the Step stones, Your Grace.

    If those shipping lanes

    should fall,

    it will beggar our ports.

    The crown has heard

    your report, Lord Corlys,

    and takes it under advisement.

    Shall we discuss the Heir’s

    Tournament, Your Grace?

    I would be delighted.

    Will the maesters’ name day

    prediction hold, Mellos?

    You must understand

    that these things

    are mere estimations, my King,

    but we have all been

    poring over the moon charts,

    and we feel that our forecast

    is as accurate as it can be.

    LYMAN: The cost of the

    tournament is not negligible.

    Perhaps we might delay

    until the child is in hand?

    Ugh, most of the lords

    and knights

    are certainly on their way to King’s

    Landing already. To turn them back now…

    KING VISERYS: The tourney will

    take the better part of a week.

    Before the games are over,

    my son will be born,

    and the whole realm

    will celebrate.

    GRAND MAESTER MELLOS:

    We have no way of predicting

    the sex of the child.

    Of course, no maester’s capable

    of rendering an opinion

    free of conditions,

    are they now?

    There’s a boy

    in the Queen’s belly.

    I know it.

    And my heir will soon

    put all of this damnable

    hand-wringing to rest himself.

    He passed through the

    Red Keep’s gates at first light.

    Does my father know he’s here?

    - No.

    - Good.

    (BIRDS CHIRPING)

    Gods be good.

    It’s all right, ser.

    (SPEAKING HIGH VALYRIAN)

    Aye…

    Mm…

    I bought you something.

    Do you know what it is?

    It’s Valyrian steel.

    Like Dark Sister.

    Turn around.

    Now…

    you and I both own a small piece

    of our ancestry.

    (SPEAKS HIGH VALYRIAN)

    ALICENT: Did you read it?

    RHAENYRA: Of course, I read it.

    ALICENT: When Princess

    Nymeria arrived in Dorne,

    who did she take to husband?

    RHAENYRA: A man.

    ALICENT: What was his name?

    RHAENYRA: Lord Something.

    ALICENT: If you answer

    with “Lord Something,”

    Septa Marlow will be furious.

    She’s funny when she’s furious.

    You’re always like this

    when you’re worried.

    Like what?

    Disagreeable.

    You’re worried your father

    is about to overshadow you

    with a son.

    I only worry for my mother.

    I hope for my father

    that he gets a son.

    As long as I can recall,

    it’s all he’s wanted.

    You want him to have a son?

    I want to fly with you

    on dragon back,

    see the great wonders across

    the Narrow Sea, and eat only cake.

    - I’m being serious.

    - I never jest about cake.

    You aren’t worried

    about your position?

    I like this position.

    It’s quite comfortable.

    - Where are you going?

    - Home. The hour has grown late.

    Princess Nymeria led her Rhoynar

    across the Narrow Sea

    on 10,000 ships

    to flee their Valyrian pursuers.

    She took Lord Mors Martell

    of Dorne to husband

    and burned her own

    fleet off Sun spear

    to show her people that

    they were finished running.

    - What are you doing?

    - So you remember.

    - If-if the Septa sees this book, then…

    - Fuck the Septa.

    ALICENT: Rhaenyra!

    - (BOTH LAUGHING)

    - (BELL TOLLING)

    (BIRDS CAWING)

    Is it healing?

    MELLOS: It has grown

    slightly, Your Grace.

    OTTO HIGH TOWER:

    Can you say yet what it is?

    We’ve sent enquiries

    to the Citadel.

    They are searching

    the texts for similar cases.

    It’s a small cut

    from sitting the throne.

    It’s nothing.

    The King has been

    under heavy stresses

    preparing for the birth.

    Bad humors of the mind

    can adversely affect the body.

    Whatever it is, it

    needs to be kept quiet.

    We should leech it again,

    maester.

    It’s a wound that refuses

    to heal, Grand Maester.

    Might I suggest cauterization?

    Cauterization would be a wise

    course of treatment, Your Grace.

    - It will be painful…

    - KING VISERYS: Fine.

    Fine.

    (SEABIRDS CAWING)

    (DOOR OPENS)

    (DOOR CLOSES)

    You spend more time in that bath

    than I do on the throne.

    (SIGHS) This is the only place

    I can find comfort these days.

    It’s tepid.

    It’s as warm as

    the maesters will allow.

    - Don’t they know dragons prefer heat?

    - Hm.

    After this miserable

    pregnancy…

    I wouldn’t be surprised if

    I hatched an actual dragon.

    (LAUGHS) Then he will

    be loved and cherished.

    Rhaenyra has already declared

    that she is to have a sister.

    Really?

    - She even named her.

    - Dare I ask?

    - Visenya.

    - (CHUCKLES)

    She chose a dragon’s egg

    for the cradle

    that she said reminded her

    of Vhagar.

    Gods be good.

    This family already

    has its Visenya.

    Has there been any word

    from your dear brother?

    Not since I named him

    Commander of the City Watch.

    I’m sure he will reemerge

    for the tourney.

    He could never stay

    away from the lists.

    The tourney…

    to celebrate the firstborn son

    that we presently do not have.

    You do understand

    nothing will cause

    the babe to grow a cock

    if it does not

    already possess one?

    - This child is a boy, Aemma.

    - (SCOFFS)

    I’m certain of it.

    I’ve never been more

    certain of anything.

    The dream.

    It was clearer than a memory.

    Our son was born wearing

    Aegon’s iron crown.

    And I heard the sound

    of thundering hooves,

    splintering shields,

    and ringing swords,

    and I placed our son

    upon the Iron Throne…

    as the bells of

    the Grand Sept tolled

    and all the dragons

    roared as one.

    Born wearing a crown?

    Gods spare me…

    birth is unpleasant

    enough as it is.

    This is the last time,

    Viserys.

    I’ve lost one babe

    in the cradle,

    had two stillbirths,

    and two pregnancies

    ended well before their term.

    That’s five…

    in twice as many years.

    I know it is my duty

    to provide you an heir,

    and I’m sorry if I have

    failed you in that. I am.

    But I’ve mourned all

    the dead children I can.

    (SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING)

    (MUFFLED THUMPING)

    (THUMPING GROWS LOUDER)

    CAPTAIN RANDYLL BARRET:

    Commander on the floor!

    When I took command of the

    Watch, you were stray mongrels…

    starving and undisciplined.

    Now…

    you’re a pack of hounds.

    You’re sated and honed

    for the hunt.

    (ALL HOWLING)

    My brother’s city

    has fallen into squalor.

    Crime of every breed

    has been allowed to thrive.

    No longer.

    Beginning tonight,

    King’s Landing will learn

    to fear the color gold.

    (WAR CRY ERUPTS)

    (INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

    (TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

    (INDISTINCT YELLING)

    - (PUNCHES LANDING)

    - (PEOPLE GRUNTING)

    (HORSE NEIGHS)

    ♪ ♪

    CITY WATCHMAN: Get up!

    - (GRUNTING)

    - (SCREAMING)

    ♪ ♪

    (GRUNTS)

    (SCREAMS)

    Raper!

    No! No! No! No! No!

    - (SLASHING)

    - (SCREAMING)

    CAPTAIN BARRET: Thief!

    No! (SCREAMING)

    ♪ ♪

    Murderer!

    (YELLING)

    - (SCREAMS)

    - (SLICES)

    (HORSE NEIGHS)

    OTTO: It was an unprecedented

    roundup of criminals

    of every ilk.

    Your brother made

    a public show of it,

    meting out the summary

    judgments himself.

    I’m told they needed

    a two-horse cart

    to haul away the resulting

    dismemberments

    when it was done.

    KING VISERYS: (SIGHS)

    Gods be good.

    The Prince cannot

    be allowed to act

    with this kind

    of unchecked impunity.

    - Brother.

    - Daemon.

    Carry on. You were saying

    something about my impunity.

    You are to explain your doings

    with the City Watch.

    Your new “gold cloaks” made quite

    the impression last night, didn’t they?

    PRINCE DAEMON TARGARYEN: Did they?

    The City Watch is not a sword

    to be wielded at your whim.

    They’re an extension

    of the crown.

    The Watch was enforcing

    the crown’s laws.

    Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Strong?

    - My Prince, I don’t think…

    - Making a public spectacle of wanton brutality

    is hardly in line with our laws.

    Nobles from every

    corner of the realm

    are right now descending

    upon King’s Landing

    for my brother’s tourney.

    Do you want them

    mugged, raped, murdered?

    You mightn’t know this unless

    you left the safety of the Red Keep,

    but much of King’s Landing

    is seen by the smallfolk

    as lawless and terrifying.

    Our city should be safe

    for all its people.

    I agree.

    I just hope you

    don’t have to maim

    half of my city to achieve this.

    Time will tell.

    We installed Prince Daemon as

    commander to promote law and order.

    The criminal element

    should fear the City Watch.

    Thank you for your support,

    Lord Corlys.

    If only the Prince would

    show the same devotion

    to his lady wife as he

    does his work, Your Grace.

    You’ve not been seen in the Vale

    or at Runestone

    for quite some time.

    I think my bronze bitch

    is happier for my absence.

    OTTO: Lady Rhea is your wife,

    a good and honorable

    lady of the Vale.

    In the Vale, men are said to

    fuck sheep instead of women.

    I can assure you,

    the sheep are prettier.

    Dear me.

    You made a vow before the Seven

    to honor your wife in marriage.

    Well, I’d gladly give

    Lady Rhea to you,

    Lord High tower,

    if you’re in want

    of a woman to warm your bed.

    Your own lady wife

    passed recently.

    Did she not?

    Otto.

    Perhaps you aren’t ready

    to move on just yet.

    You know how my brother

    makes sport of provoking you.

    Must you indulge him?

    My apologies, Your Grace.

    KING VISERYS: This council

    has, at great expense,

    bettered the City Watch

    to your exacting standards.

    Enforce my laws,

    but understand…

    any further performances

    like last night’s

    will be answered.

    Understood, Your Grace.

    King’s Landing has been in decline

    since my grandmother passed.

    - (DOOR CLOSES)

    - In the end…

    this new City Watch

    might be a good thing.

    - (MOANING)

    - (PEOPLE LAUGHING)

    ♪ ♪

    (MOANING CONTINUES)

    (MOANING)

    (DISTANT CHEERING)

    - (HEAVY BREATHING)

    - (PRINCE DAEMON GROANS)

    ♪ ♪

    MYSARIA: What

    troubles you, my Prince?

    I could bring in another.

    Perhaps a maiden.

    I have several.

    I could even arrange one

    with silver hair.

    (DRUMS, MUSIC PLAYING OUTSIDE)

    You are Daemon Targaryen.

    Rider of Caraxes.

    Wielder of Dark Sister.

    The King cannot replace you.

    (DOG BARKING)

    (CROWD CHEERING)

    (INTENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

    KING VISERYS: Be welcome!

    I know many of you have

    traveled long leagues

    to be at these games.

    But I promise, you will

    not be disappointed.

    When I look at the fine

    knights in these lists,

    I see a group without equal

    in our histories.

    And this great day

    has been made more auspicious

    by the news…

    that I am happy to share:

    Queen Aemma has

    begun her labors!

    (ALL CHEERING)

    (APPLAUSE)

    May the luck of the Seven

    shine upon all combatants!

    (CHEERING)

    (HORSES NEIGHING, GALLOPING)

    (NEIGHS)

    (CROWD CHEERING, APPLAUDING)

    (KNIGHT GRUNTS)

    (CROWD EXCLAIMS)

    RHAENYRA: A mystery knight?

    No, a Cole, of the Storm lands.

    I’ve never heard of House Cole.

    LORD BOREMUND BARATHEON:

    Princess Rhaenys Targaryen!

    I would humbly ask for the favor

    of “The Queen Who Never Was.”

    (CROWD CHEERING)

    Good fortune to you, cousin.

    I would gladly take it

    if I thought I needed it.

    You could have

    Baratheon’s tongue for that.

    Tongues will not

    change the succession.

    Let them wag.

    (DRUMMING)

    Lord Stokeworth’s daughter

    is promised to that

    young Tarly squire.

    - Lord Massey’s son?

    - Mm-hm.

    They’re to be married as

    soon as he wins his knighthood.

    - Best get on with it.

    - (HORSE NEIGHS)

    I heard that Lady Elinor is hiding

    a swollen belly beneath her dress.

    - (KNIGHT YELLS)

    - (HORSE NEIGHS)

    (CROWD EXCLAIMS)

    (LAUGHS)

    (GROANING)

    (HORSES NEIGHING)

    What do you know about this

    Ser Criston Cole, Ser Harrold?

    SER HARROLD: I’m told Ser

    Criston is common-born,

    son of Lord Dondarrion’s

    steward.

    But other than that, and the

    fact that he’s just unhorsed

    both of the Baratheon lads,

    I really couldn’t say.

    (DRUMMING)

    (CHEERING)

    (CHEERING INTENSIFIES)

    MASTER OF REVELS: Prince

    Daemon of House Targaryen,

    Prince of the City,

    will now choose

    his first opponent!

    (CHEERING)

    (CHEERING INTENSIFIES)

    - (HORSE NEIGHS)

    - For his first challenge,

    Prince Daemon Targaryen chooses

    Ser Gwayne High tower of Old town,

    eldest son of

    the Hand of the King.

    (DRUMMING)

    Five dragons on Daemon.

    (HORSE NEIGHS)

    (HORSE SNORTING)

    - Ya!

    - (HORSE SQUEALS)

    (HORSE SHRIEKS)

    (CROWD EXCLAIMS)

    (HORSE SNORTING)

    (SCATTERED CHEERS, APPLAUSE)

    (HORSE NEIGHS)

    (CROWD CHEERING)

    - Nicely done, Uncle.

    - Thank you, Princess.

    Now, I’m fairly certain I can

    win these games, Lady Alicent.

    Having your favor

    would all but assure it.

    Good luck, my Prince.

    (WHISPERING)

    - (CROWD CHEERING)

    - (HORSE GALLOPING)

    (QUEEN AEMMA SCREAMING)

    (INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

    (QUEEN AEMMA WAILING)

    - What’s happening?

    - The infant is in breech, Your Grace.

    All attempts to turn

    the babe have failed.

    (SCREAMING)

    - Do something for her!

    - We’ve given her as much

    milk of the poppy as we can

    without risking the child.

    Your Queen is a strong woman.

    She’s fighting

    with all her might,

    but it may not be enough.

    QUEEN AEMMA: No! (GRUNTING)

    KING VISERYS: Aemma.

    Aemma… I’m here.

    - I’m here.

    - (QUEEN AEMMA MUTTERING) Help me, please…

    I’m here. It’s all right.

    - It’s all right.

    - I don’t wanna do this.

    - (MUTTERING CONTINUES)

    - You’re going to be all right.

    You’re going to be all right.

    - (WAILING)

    - (HORSES GALLOPING)

    (HORSE NEIGHS)

    (GRUNTING)

    - (YELLS)

    - (HORSE NEIGHS)

    (GRUNTS)

    (GASPS)

    - (STRIKES METAL)

    - (SHOUTS)

    Kill him!

    And the day grows ugly.

    I wonder if this

    is how we should

    celebrate the birth

    of our future king.

    - Hm.

    - With wanton violence.

    PRINCESS RHAENYS: It’s been 70

    years since King Maegor’s end.

    These knights are as green

    as summer grass.

    None have known real war.

    Their lords sent them

    to the tourney field

    with fists full of steel

    and balls full of seed,

    and we expect them to act

    with honor and grace.

    It’s a marvel that war

    didn’t break out at first blood.

    (SCREAMS)

    (ALL GASPING)

    (RETCHING)

    (CROWD CHEERING)

    (MELLOS MUTTERING)

    Mellos.

    Your Grace.

    If you would.

    During a difficult birth,

    it sometimes becomes necessary

    for the father…

    to make an impossible choice.

    Well, speak it.

    To sacrifice one…

    or to lose them both.

    There is a chance that

    we can save the child.

    A technique is taught

    at the Citadel,

    which involves cutting

    directly into the womb

    to free the infant.

    - But the resulting blood loss…

    - Seven Hells, Mellos.

    (TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

    You can save the child?

    We must either act now

    or leave it with the gods.

    (SIGHS)

    ♪ ♪

    Ser Criston Cole

    will now tilt against

    Ser Daemon Targaryen,

    Prince of the City!

    (CHEERING)

    ♪ ♪

    (INTENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

    ♪ ♪

    (HORSES NEIGHING)

    ♪ ♪

    (GRUNTS)

    (YELLING)

    ♪ ♪

    - Viserys.

    - Yes?

    They’re going to bring

    the babe out now.

    Mm.

    I love you.

    Ooh.

    - What is happening?

    - No, it’s all right.

    No… what is happening?

    - Viserys, what…

    - KING VISERYS: No, it’s all right.

    - Wh-what are you doing?

    - They’re going to bring the babe out.

    How are they…

    - It’s all right.

    - Viserys, please.

    - It’s all right.

    - No, I’m scared. Not in…

    - KING VISERYS: Don’t be scared.

    - What is happening?

    Don’t be scared. They’re

    going to bring the babe out.

    - QUEEN AEMMA: Oh no.

    - It’s all right.

    They’re going

    to bring the babe out.

    (YELLS) No! No! No!

    - I’m making the first incision.

    - (SCREAMS) No, no, no!

    Viserys, no! Please!

    - No, no, no!

    - Don’t be scared.

    (SCREAMING)

    (CHEERING)

    (LANCES CRASHING)

    (ARMOR SCRAPING)

    (CHEERING)

    (GRUNTING)

    (GRUNTS)

    PRINCE DAEMON: Sword!

    MASTER OF REVELS: Prince Daemon Targaryen

    wishes to continue

    in a contest of arms!

    (GRUNTING)

    (BLOWS LANDING)

    (TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

    (MUFFLED SCREAMING)

    (CHEERING)

    (GRUNTING)

    ♪ ♪

    (GRUNTING)

    ♪ ♪

    (PRINCE DAEMON SHOUTING)

    (BABY CRYING)

    (SHOUTING CONTINUES)

    ♪ ♪

    (GRUNTING)

    (CROWD CHEERING)

    SER CRISTON COLE: Yield.

    Yield.

    (PRINCE DAEMON CHUCKLES)

    (CHEERING)

    (SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING)

    Gods. He’s Dornish.

    I was hoping to ask

    for the Princess’s favor.

    I wish you luck, Ser Criston.

    Princess.

    ♪ ♪

    MELLOS: Congratulations, Your Grace.

    You have a son.

    - (BABY CRYING)

    - It’s a boy?

    MELLOS: A new heir, Your Grace.

    Had you and the Queen

    chosen a name?

    Baelon.

    ♪ ♪

    (TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

    ♪ ♪

    (WIND BLOWING)

    (SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING)

    ♪ ♪

    (SOFTLY)

    They’re waiting for you.

    (WAVES CRASHING)

    ♪ ♪

    (SPEAKING HIGH VALYRIAN)

    ♪ ♪

    (SYRAX VOCALIZES)

    D…

    (LOW GROWL)

    ♪ ♪

    (SPEAKING HIGH VALYRIAN)

    Dracarys.

    (VOCALIZES)

    ♪ ♪

    (ROARS)

    - (BELL TOLLING)

    - (DOOR CLOSES)

    (SIGHS)

    - Where’s Rhaenyra?

    - OTTO: Your Grace.

    This is the last thing

    any of us wish to discuss

    at this dark hour,

    but I consider

    the matter urgent.

    What matter?

    That of your succession.

    These recent tragedies have

    left you without an obvious heir.

    The King has an heir,

    my Lord Hand.

    OTTO: Despite how difficult

    this time is, Your Grace,

    I feel it important

    the succession be

    firmly in place

    for the stability of the realm.

    LYONEL STRONG: The

    succession is already set…

    by precedent and by law.

    Shall we say his name?

    Daemon Targaryen.

    If Daemon were to remain

    the uncontested heir,

    it could destabilize the realm.

    The realm? Or this council?

    No one here can know what

    Daemon would do were he king,

    but no one can

    doubt his ambition.

    Look at what he did

    with the gold cloaks.

    The City Watch is

    fiercely loyal to him.

    - An army 2,000 strong.

    - An army you gave him, Otto.

    I named Daemon Master of Laws,

    but you said he was a tyrant.

    As Master of Coin,

    you said he was a spendthrift

    that would beggar the realm.

    Putting Daemon in command

    of the City Watch

    was your solution!

    A half-measure, Your Grace.

    The truth is, Daemon should

    be far away from this court.

    Daemon is my brother.

    My blood.

    And he will have

    his place at my court.

    MELLOS: Let him keep his

    place at court, Your Grace,

    but if the gods should visit

    some further tragedy on you,

    - either by design or by accident…

    - “Design”?

    What are you saying?

    My brother would murder me,

    take my crown?

    Are you?!

    Please.

    Daemon has ambition, yes,

    - but not for the throne.

    - (SOFT CHUCKLE)

    He lacks the patience for it.

    The gods have yet

    to make a man who

    lacks the patience for

    absolute power, Your Grace.

    MELLOS: Under such circumstances,

    it would not be an aberration

    for the King to name

    a successor.

    Well, who else

    would have a claim?

    The King’s firstborn child.

    LYONEL: Rhaenyra? A girl?

    No queen has ever

    sat the Iron Throne.

    That is only by tradition

    and precedent, Lord Strong.

    If order and stability

    so concerns this council,

    then perhaps we shouldn’t break

    100 years of it by naming a girl heir.

    Daemon would be a second Maegor,

    or worse.

    He is impulsive and violent.

    It is the duty of this council

    to protect the King

    and the realm from him.

    I’m sorry, Your Grace, but

    that is the truth as I see it,

    and I know that

    others here agree.

    I will not be made to choose

    between my brother

    and my daughter.

    LORD CORLYS: You wouldn’t

    have to, Your Grace.

    There are others

    who would have a claim.

    (LAUGHS) Such as your wife,

    Lord Corlys?

    - “The Queen Who Never Was”?

    - Rhaenys was the only child

    of Jaehaerys’ eldest son.

    She had a strong claim

    at the Great Council,

    and she already has a male heir.

    Just moments ago, you

    announced your support for Daemon!

    If we cannot agree on an heir,

    then how can we expect…

    (SHOUTS)

    My wife and son are dead!

    I will not sit here and suffer crows

    that come to feast on their corpses!

    (SIGHS)

    (BIRDS CHIRPING)

    (BLOWS)

    Send a raven to Old town.

    Straight away.

    My Lady.

    My darling.

    How’s Rhaenyra?

    She lost her mother.

    The Queen was well-loved by all.

    I found myself thinking

    of your own mother today.

    - How is His Grace?

    - Very low.

    Which is why I sent for you.

    I thought you might go to him…

    offer him comfort.

    In his chambers?

    I wouldn’t know what to say.

    Stop that.

    He’ll be glad of a visitor.

    You might wear one of

    your mother’s dresses.

    (SIGHS)

    (KNOCKING ON DOOR)

    (DOOR OPENS)

    The Lady Alicent High tower,

    Your Grace.

    KING VISERYS: What is it, Alicent?

    I thought I might come

    and look in on you, Your Grace.

    I brought a book.

    That’s very kind, thank you.

    It’s a favorite of mine.

    I do know how passionate

    you are for the histories.

    Yes… I am.

    When my mother died…

    people only ever spoke

    to me in riddles.

    All I wanted was for someone

    to say that they were sorry

    for what happened to me.

    I’m very sorry, Your Grace.

    (SOLEMN MUSIC PLAYING)

    (MUFFLED MOANING)

    (MUFFLED LAUGHTER)

    ♪ ♪

    (CHATTER, LAUGHTER CONTINUE)

    ♪ ♪

    Thank you.

    The King’s sole heir once again.

    Might we drink to our future?

    - (BANGS)

    - (SHOUTS) Quiet!

    Your Prince will speak!

    Silence!

    (MUSIC STOPS)

    (SCATTERED SHOUTS)

    OTTO: Before we begin, Your Grace,

    I have a report I feel

    compelled to share.

    Last night…

    Prince Daemon bought out

    one of the pleasure houses

    on the Street of Silk…

    to entertain officers

    of the City Watch

    and other friends of his.

    King and Council have

    long rued my position

    as next in line for the throne.

    (SCATTERED JEERS)

    But dream and pray

    as they all might,

    it seems I’m not

    so easily replaced.

    The gods give just

    as the gods take away.

    OTTO: He toasted Prince Baelon.

    To the King’s son.

    OTTO: Styling him…

    “The Heir for a Day.”

    (TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

    (DOOR OPENS)

    I corroborated this report

    with three separate witnesses.

    The evening was, by all

    accounts a… celebration.

    (DOOR CLOSES)

    PRINCE DAEMON: You cut the

    image of the conqueror, brother.

    Did you say it?

    I don’t know what you mean.

    You will address me

    as “Your Grace,”

    or I will have my Kings guard

    cut out your tongue.

    “The Heir for a Day.”

    Did you say it?

    We must all mourn

    in our own way, Your Grace.

    My family has just

    been destroyed.

    But instead of being

    by my side, or Rhaenyra’s,

    (SHOUTING) you chose to

    celebrate your own rise!

    Laughing with your whores

    and your lickspittles!

    You have no allies

    at court but me!

    I have only ever defended you!

    Yet everything I’ve given you,

    you’ve thrown back in my face.

    You’ve only ever

    tried to send me away.

    To the Vale, to the City Watch,

    anywhere but by your side.

    Ten years you’ve been king,

    and yet not once have you

    asked me to be your Hand!

    - Why would I do that?

    - Because I’m your brother.

    And the blood of the dragon

    runs thick.

    Then why do you

    cut me so deeply?

    I’ve only ever spoken the truth.

    I see Otto High tower

    for what he is.

    - An unwavering and loyal Hand?

    - A cunt.

    A second son who stands

    to inherit nothing

    he doesn’t seize for himself.

    Otto High tower is

    a more honorable man

    - than you could ever be.

    - He doesn’t protect you.

    - I would.

    - From what?

    Yourself.

    You’re weak… Viserys.

    And that council

    of leeches knows it.

    They all prey on you

    for their own ends.

    I have decided

    to name a new heir.

    - I’m your heir.

    - Not anymore.

    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.

    - (SWORDS UNSHEATHING)

    - (TENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

    Your Grace.

    ♪ ♪

    (DOOR OPENS)

    ♪ ♪

    ♪ ♪

    RHAENYRA: Father.

    Balerion was the last living creature to

    have seen Old Valyria before the Doom.

    Its greatness and its flaws.

    When you look at the dragons,

    what do you see?

    What?

    You haven’t spoken

    a word to me since

    mother’s funeral,

    - and now you send your Kings guard down…

    - Answer me.

    It’s important.

    What do you see?

    - I suppose I see us.

    - Tell me.

    Everyone says Targaryens

    are closer to gods than to men,

    but they say that

    because of our dragons.

    Without them, we’re

    just like everyone else.

    The idea that we

    control the dragons…

    is an illusion.

    They’re a power man should

    never have trifled with.

    One that brought

    Valyria its doom.

    If we don’t mind our own

    histories, it will do the same to us.

    Targaryen must understand

    this to be King…

    or Queen.

    (LIGHT MUSIC PLAYING)

    I’m sorry, Rhaenyra.

    I have wasted the years

    since you were born…

    wanting for a son.

    ♪ ♪

    You are the very best

    of your mother.

    And I believe it,

    I know she did,

    that you could be

    a great ruling queen.

    Daemon is your heir.

    KING VISERYS: Daemon was

    not made to wear the crown.

    But I believe that you were.

    MELLOS: Corlys of House Velaryon,

    Lord of the Tides

    and Master of Driftmark.

    I, Corlys Velaryon,

    Lord of the Tides

    and Master of Driftmark,

    promise to be faithful

    to King Viserys

    and his named heir,

    the Princess Rhaenyra.

    I pledge fealty to them

    and shall defend them

    against all enemies

    in good faith

    and without deceit.

    ♪ ♪

    I swear this by the old gods

    and the new.

    KING VISERYS: This is no

    trivial gesture, Rhaenyra.

    A dragon’s saddle is one thing,

    but the Iron Throne is the most

    dangerous seat in the realm.

    I, Lord Hobert High tower,

    Beacon of the South,

    Defender of the Citadel,

    and Voice of Old town,

    promise to be faithful

    to King Viserys

    and his named heir,

    the Princess Rhaenyra.

    I pledge fealty to them

    and shall defend them

    against all enemies

    in good faith

    and without deceit.

    I swear this by the old gods

    and the new.

    (CARAXES GRUMBLES)

    Give me your hand.

    (GRUMBLING)

    ♪ ♪

    I, Boremund Baratheon…

    promise to be faithful

    to King Viserys…

    KING VISERYS: There’s something

    else that I need to tell you.

    It might be difficult

    for you to understand,

    but you must hear it.

    Our histories…

    they tell us that

    Aegon looked across

    the Blackwater

    from Dragons tone,

    and saw a rich land

    ripe for the capture.

    But ambition alone is not

    what drove him to conquest.

    It was a dream.

    And just as Daenys foresaw

    the end of Valyria,

    Aegon foresaw the end

    of the world of men.

    (SIGHS) ‘Tis to begin

    with a terrible winter

    gusting out

    of the distant north.

    I, Rick on Stark,

    Lord of Winter fell…

    KING VISERYS: Aegon saw absolute darkness

    riding on those winds.

    And whatever dwells within

    will destroy the world

    of the living.

    When this Great Winter

    comes, Rhaenyra…

    all of Westeros must

    stand against it.

    And if the world

    of men is to survive,

    a Targaryen must be seated

    on the Iron Throne.

    A king or queen,

    strong enough to unite the realm

    against the cold and the dark.

    Aegon called his dream

    “The Song of Ice and Fire.”

    This secret…

    it’s been passed from king

    to heir since Aegon’s time.

    Now you must promise

    to carry it…

    and protect it.

    Promise me this, Rhaenyra.

    Promise me.

    (INTENSE MUSIC PLAYING)

    I, Viserys Targaryen,

    first of his name…

    King of the Andals,

    and the Rhoynar,

    and the First Men,

    Lord of the Seven Kingdoms,

    and Protector of the Realm,

    do hereby name…

    Rhaenyra Targaryen

    Princess of Dragons tone

    and heir to the Iron Throne.

    ♪ ♪

    (BREATHING HEAVILY)

    (DRAGON ROARS)

    ♪ ♪

    ♪ ♪

    ♪ ♪

    ♪ ♪