♪ ♪
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)
    ♪ ♪
    ♪ ♪
    ♪ ♪
    ♪ ♪