♪ ♪

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)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪