All language subtitles for game.of.thrones.s04e02.1080p.bluray.x264-rovers

Tansy!

Tansy!

Tansy!

Tansy!

There you are.

I can't see her. Tansy!

Tansy!

If you make it out of the woods, you win!

Run, Tansy!

- Tansy!
- Where is she?

Tansy!

Good girls. Down.

Well done. You, too.

- I only wounded her.
- You brought her down. That's what matters.

A fine shot. Wasn't it, Reek?

- A fine shot, master. My lady.
- Please, my lord.

- It hurts. Please.
- Sweet. Don't cry.

It will be over soon.

She thinks she's pretty.

Let me put one through her face.

We have to
reward the hounds, love.

- They did all the hard work.
- Why? I did whatever you asked.

But you made Myranda feel jealous.

- Me, jealous of her?
- My lord, please.

You can see that your presence
has become a bit of a problem.

Rip her!

Rip her!

Not so pretty now.

Your new hand,
it's nicer than the old one.

Wouldn't you agree, Pod?

- Is it solid gold?
- Gilded steel.

You're not eating. Why is no one eating?

My wife wastes away
and my brother starves himself.

- I'm not hungry.
- You lost a hand, not a stomach.

Try the boar.

Cersei can't get enough of it
since one killed Robert for her.

A toast.

To the proud Lannister children.

The dwarf, the cripple,
and the mother of madness.

- I'll clean it up.
- No, I'll do it. Leave us.

It's only wine.

I can't fight any more.

What about your left?

I can hold a sword,
but all my instincts are wrong.

How can I protect the King
when I can hardly wipe my own ass?

You're the Lord Commander now.

Command. Let others do the fighting.

When was the last time Father used a sword?

I'm not Father. I'm the Kingslayer.

When people find out I
can't slay a pigeon...

Train, then.

- Learn to fight with your other hand.
- With whom? You?

Men talk.

As soon as someone discovers I can't fight,
he'll tell everyone.

You need a proper, discreet swordsman.

I have just the one.

My brother tells me
you can keep your mouth shut.

Unusual talent for a sellsword.

He tells me you shit gold,
just like your father.

Is this place safe?

There's this knight, Leygood.
Got thunderbolts on his shield.

Uh-huh.

Right here is where I fuck his wife.

She's a screamer, that one.

If they don't hear her, they won't hear us.

I've never seen Valyrian steel
before. She's a beauty.

Problem is,

if you fight with an edged
blade, I'll have to.

And if I fight with an edged blade,

I'll have no one left to pay me.

I haven't used a sparring sword
since I was nine.

Mmm-mmm.

Bold warrior you are,
attacking a man when his guard's down.

Best time to attack a man.

Mind yourself.

- If I still had my right hand...
- Plan on growing it back?

Come on, then.

Open the gates!

Riders coming in!

Let's get these horses seen to!

Father. Welcome home.

Walda, this is Ramsay Snow, my bastard.

A pleasure, Mother.

Hello.

See that the horses are fed,
watered, and rubbed down.

And take Lady Walda to her chambers.

This way, my lady.

Where is your prize?

With the hounds.

I'll have a look at him.

I hear you took a hand from the Kingslayer.

Word travels. How he screamed.

You would have loved it.

Father.

What did you do to him?

I trained him.

He was a slow learner, but he learned.

- You flayed him.
- Peeled a few bits.

Removed a few others.

This was Balon Greyjoy's son and heir.

We've been flaying our enemies
for 1,000 years.

The flayed man is on our banners.

My banners, not yours.

You're not a Bolton. You're a Snow.

Tywin Lannister has given me the North.

But he won't lift a finger
to help me take it.

As long as the ironborn hold Moat Cailin,

our armies are trapped south of the Neck.

Theon was a valuable hostage,
not your plaything.

I wanted to trade him for Moat Cailin.

I already asked.

Lord Greyjoy refused.

Savages have no...

You sent terms to Balon Greyjoy
without my consent?

You made me acting Lord of the Dreadfort.

I acted.

I had to smuggle myself into my own lands,
thanks to the Greyjoys.

I needed Theon whole.

Theon was our enemy.

But Reek

will never betray us.

I placed far too much trust in you.

Reek, how could you let me stand
before my father unshaven?

- It's disrespectful.
- Sorry, my lord.

Give him the razor.

I'm not a Bolton, Father.
What does it matter?

Go on, Reek.

A nice close shave.

Reek,

tell Father,

where are Bran and Rickon Stark?

I don't know, my lord.

You murdered them

and displayed their corpses at Winterfell.

Reek,

did you murder the Stark boys?

No, my lord.

Just two farm boys.

And crisped them
so no one would know?

Yes, my lord.

The Starks have always ruled the North.

If Bran and Rickon are alive,

the country will rally to their side,

now that Robb Stark is gone.

Oh, that's right, Reek.

Robb Stark is dead.

Sorry.

I know he was like a brother to you.

But my father put a knife
through his heart.

How do you feel about that?

- You ready for a hunt?
- Always.

Find those boys and I'll give
you 1,000 acres and a holdfast.

Your pet rat have any thoughts
on which way they went after Winterfell?

Jon Snow is at Castle Black.

Who the fuck is Jon Snow?

Their bastard brother.

He could be sheltering them.

He may know where they are.

Even if he doesn't, he's
half Stark himself.

Could be a threat.

You want to prove yourself a Bolton?

Gather whatever men you can
and ride for Moat Cailin.

Bring this creature of yours.

Maybe he'll be of some use.

Take the Moat for the
family, for our family,

and I'll reconsider your position.

Lord Varys. Breakfasting with the King?

I'm afraid foreigners aren't welcome
at such exclusive affairs.

Oh, to be foreign.

Shae has been noticed.

Sansa's maid saw you with her.
She already told your sister.

It's only a matter of time
before your father hears.

So I'm guilty of being seen with
my own wife's handmaiden.

My father will ask you if there's anything
more, and you'll tell him some clever lie.

No, I will not.

How long do you imagine
your father and sister would let me live

if they suspected me of lying?

I have no pet sellsword to protect me.

No legendary brother to avenge me.

Only little birds who whisper in my ear.

Forgive me if I don't weep for you.

No one weeps for spiders, or whores.

I have friends across the sea
who could help her.

She won't leave.

I've told her this is a dangerous place
so many times, she no longer believes it.

Your father has promised to hang
the next whore he finds you with.

Have you ever known your father
to make an idle threat?

From House Tyrell
and the people of the Reach,

Your Grace, it is my honour
to present you with this wedding cup.

May you and my daughter Margaery
drink deep and live long.

A handsome goblet, my lord.

Or shall I call you Father?

I should be honoured, Your Grace.

She's the whore I told you about.

The dark-haired one.

Have her brought to the Tower of the Hand
before the wedding.

Hmm.

A book?

The Lives of Four Kings.

Grand Maester Kaeth's history of
the reigns of Daeron the Young Dragon,

Baelor the Blessed,

Aegon the Unworthy, and Daeron the Good.

A book every king should read.

Now that the war is won,

we should all find time for wisdom.

Thank you, Uncle.

One of only two Valyrian steel swords
in the capital, Your Grace,

freshly forged in your honour.

Careful, Your Grace.

Nothing cuts like Valyrian steel.

So they say.

Such a great sword should have a name.
What shall I call her?

Stormbringer.

- Terminus.
- Widow's Wail.

- Wolfsbane.
- Widow's Wail. I like that.

Every time I use it,

it'll be like cutting off Ned Stark's head
all over again.

Don't.

You want me on the desk?

- What's wrong, my lion?
- Don't call me that.

What should I call you?

I'm afraid our friendship can't continue.

Our friendship?

There's a ship waiting in the harbour
bound for Pentos.

What?

You'll have your own cabin,

and across the Narrow
Sea a house, servants.

- What is this?
- I'm a married man.

My wife has suffered a great deal,
as you well know.

I don't want her to suffer any more
on my account.

I need to uphold my vows.

She doesn't want you.

- I need to do right by her.
- You don't want her.

By our children.

What are you afraid of?

- I'm not afraid.
- You are.

You are afraid of your
father and your sister.

- You're going to run from them all your life?
- I need you to leave.

I'm not afraid of them.

- I'm not going to run from them.
- Shae.

We will fight them together. It's like
you said, I am yours and you are mine.

You're a whore!

Sansa is fit to bear my children,
and you are not.

I can't be in love with a whore.

I can't have children with a whore.

How many men have you been with?
500? 5,000?

How many whores have you been with?

I have enjoyed my time with all of them,

and I have enjoyed my time
with you most of all.

But now that time is over.

You'll have a comfortable life in Pentos.

Bronn will escort you to your ship.

Hear us now.

Accept these tokens of our faith, my lord,

and lead us from the darkness.

Sire, I served you well.

Lord of Light, show us the way.

- Lead us from the darkness.
- Selyse, you're my sister!

- Yours are the stars that guide us.
- Tell him!

- Tell him!
- Lord of Light, protect us,

for the night is dark and full of terrors.

Did you see? Their souls.

It was their souls.

Our lord took them. Did you see?

Lord Florent was
your brother by law.

He was an infidel.

He worshipped the gods of his
fathers and their fathers before him.

They were the gods of your fathers, too.

I ordered him to tear down his idols.
He disobeyed.

How many ships did he bring to your cause?
How many men?

A good deal more than you.

Did you see, Ser Davos?

They're with our lord now.
Their sins all burned away.

I'm sure they're more
than grateful, My Queen.

Meat's off.

Our larders are almost empty.

Serve fish, then. We're on an island.

You hate fish.

I hate a good many things,
but I suffer them all the same.

When Storm's End was under siege
and I was starving,

Stannis boiled soup for me from books.

The binding glue is made from horses.

One morning,
he shot two seagulls on the beach.

I've never tasted anything
as good as grilled seagull.

- Do you remember?
- Of course.

Have you ever known true hunger, my lady?

That's all I knew when I was a child.

Until you found the Lord of Light?

Until he found me.

I fear for our daughter's soul.

Every mother
should fear for her child's soul.

- She's a stubborn little beast.
- She's a child.

You barely know her.

You think she's sweet because
she smiles when you visit.

She's sullen and stubborn and sinful.

Why else would the Lord of Light
have seen fit to mark her face?

She needs the rod.

She's my daughter. You will not strike her.

As you command.

Perhaps the Lady Melisandre
could speak with her.

Come in.

Were you sleeping, Princess?

Did you watch the ceremony on the beach?

I heard it.

And it frightened you?

Ser Axell was my uncle.

He was always kind to me.

They're in a better place now, Princess.

The fire cleansed them
of the sins of the world.

But they screamed.

Women scream when they give birth.

Afterward they are filled with joy.

Afterward they aren't ash and bone.

You have so many questions, don't you?

So did I when I was a child.

I was much like you.

Only I wasn't a princess.

And you didn't have this.

No.

But I suffered in other ways, sweet girl,
believe me.

What do you know of the gods?

I read The Seven-Pointed Star.

Lies and fables.

Septons speak of seven gods.

There are but two.

A god of light and love and joy,

and a god of darkness, evil, and fear.

Eternally at war.

Then there are no seven heavens
and no seven hells?

There's only one hell, Princess.

The one we live in now.

Hodor.

Why did you wake me?

You've been gone for hours.

I was hungry.

We're all hungry.

I was just eating.

Summer was eating.

Your body can't live on the food
your wolf consumes.

Spending too much time in Summer's skin
is dangerous.

You're not a direwolf, Bran.

Must be glorious, though.

To run, to leap, to hunt.

To be whole.

I know it's tempting,

but if you're trapped in Summer for too long,
you'll forget what it was to be human.

You'd forget us, Bran.

You'd forget your mother and father,
your brothers and sisters, Winterfell.

You'd forget you.

And if we lose you, we lose everything.

Hodor, take me to the tree.

Look for me

beneath the tree.

He saw us!

North.

I know where we have to go.

Let it be known that
Margaery of House Tyrell

and Joffrey of the Houses
Lannister and Baratheon

are one heart, one flesh, one soul.

Cursed be he
who would seek to tear them asunder.

With this kiss, I pledge my love.

We have a new queen.

Better her than you.

- Bit much, wouldn't you say?
- It feels proportionate.

- Proportionate to what?
- The expected extravagance.

People who spend their money
on this sort of nonsense

tend not to have it for long.

You ought to try enjoying something
before you die.

You might find it suits you.

Not now, Mace.
Lord Tywin and I are speaking.

Anyway, I don't know
what you're complaining about.

I'm paying my share.

Shall we stick golden roses
on half the meat pies

to commemorate your generosity?

No, your heartfelt "Thank you"
is its own reward.

I would imagine
I'll be hearing it again before long.

Wars are rather expensive.

"The Iron Bank will have its due."

How they love to remind everyone.

Almost as much as
you Lannisters with your debts.

I'm not worried about the Iron Bank.

We both know you're smarter than that.

Come, Tywin, let us celebrate young love.

All taken care of.

- You saw her board the ship?
- Aye, she's on it.

And you saw the ship sail away?

No one knows she's there
but you, me, and Varys.

How do you know?

Because if someone follows me
without an invitation,

I'm the last person they ever follow.

Was someone following you?

She's gone.

I know you don't want to
believe it, but she is.

Now, go drink until it feels like
you did the right thing.

Hello.

- Hello.
- Not you.

You look exquisite, child.

The wind has been at you, though.

I haven't had the opportunity to tell you

how sorry I was to hear about your brother.

War is war, but killing a man at a wedding,

horrid.

What sort of monster would do such a thing?

As if men need more
reasons to fear marriage.

My lady.

Lord Tyrion, you see?
Not as bad as all that.

Perhaps if your pauper husband

were to sell his mule
and his last pair of shoes,

he might be able to afford to bring you
to Highgarden for a visit.

Now that peace has come
and all is right with the world,

it would do you good to see some of it.

You must excuse me. It's time I
ate some of this food I paid for.

A coat of gold

A coat of red

A lion still has claws

And mine are long...

Very good. Off you go.

My love,
why don't we make the announcement?

Everyone.

The Queen would like to say a few words.

We are so fortunate
to enjoy this marvellous food and drink.

Not all among us are so lucky.

To thank the gods for bringing
the recent war to a just end,

King Joffrey has decreed that
the leftovers from our feast

be given to the poorest in his city.

You're an example to us all.

Ser Jaime, I'm very sorry.

Ser Loras, it's quite all right.

Your sister looks very beautiful.

As does yours.

So, are you looking
forward to your wedding?

Yes, very much.

Our fathers are both
rather keen on the prospect.

- They certainly are.
- Perhaps they should get married.

If you were to marry Cersei,
she'd murder you in your sleep.

If you somehow managed
to put a child in her first,

she'd murder him, too,
long before he drew his first breath.

Luckily for you, none of this will happen
because you'll never marry her.

And neither will you.

Your Grace. My King.

- My Queen.
- Lady Brienne.

So good of you to come.

I'm no lady, Your Grace.

Did you just bow?

Apologies, Your Grace.

I never did master the curtsy.

You're the one who put a sword
through Renly Baratheon.

That's not true, my love.
Brienne had nothing to do with it.

A shame.

I'd knight the man that put an end to
that deviant's life.

I just wanted to congratulate you both
and wish you good fortune.

The country has been at war too long.

I hope your reign is long and peaceful.

- Yes.
- Thank you.

I hope we see more of you.

Lady Brienne.

You're Lord Selwyn Tarth's daughter.

That makes you a lady
whether you want to be or not.

As you say, Your Grace.

I owe you my gratitude.

You returned my brother safely
to King's Landing.

In truth, he rescued me, Your Grace.

More than once.

Did he?

Haven't heard that story before.

Not such a fascinating story.

I'm sure you have many.

Sworn to Renly Baratheon, Catelyn Stark,
and now my brother.

Must be exciting to flit
from one camp to the next,

serving whichever lord or lady you fancy.

I don't serve your brother, Your Grace.

But you love him.

Your Grace.

No, come to my chambers
and I will examine you personally.

- She'll do no such thing.
- Oh, Your Grace.

This young lady sought my advice...

You should see Qyburn. He's quite good.

- Your Grace.
- Qyburn? Deplorable man.

Brought shame on the Citadel
with his repugnant experiments.

More repugnant than
your gnarled fingers on that girl's thighs?

Your Grace, I am a man of learning.

My little brother had you sent to
the Black Cells when you annoyed him.

What do you think I could do to you?

I never meant to annoy anyone.

But you are. You're annoying me right now.

Every breath you draw in my presence
annoys me.

So here's what I want you to do.
Leave my presence.

Leave this wedding right now.

Go to the kitchens and instruct them that

all the leftovers from the feast
will be brought to the kennels.

Your Grace, Queen Margaery...

The Queen is telling you
the leftovers will feed the dogs,

or you will.

A gold dragon to
whoever knocks my fool's hat off.

You're in rather a good mood.

- I suppose I am.
- I won't ask why.

- Small pleasures.
- Your Grace. Lord Tywin.

Prince Oberyn.

I don't believe you have met Ellaria.

This is the Lord Hand Tywin Lannister,

and Cersei Lannister, the Queen Regent.

I suppose it is former Queen Regent now.

Lord Hand and Lady Cersei,

- Ellaria Sand.
- My lord. My lady.

Charmed.

Can't say I've ever met a Sand before.

We are everywhere in Dorne.
I have 10,000 brothers and sisters.

Bastards are born of passion, aren't they?

- We don't despise them in Dorne.
- No? How tolerant of you.

I expect it is a relief, Lady Cersei,
giving up your regal responsibilities.

Wearing the crown for so many years
must have left your neck a bit crooked.

I suppose you'll never know, Prince Oberyn.

It's a shame your older brother
couldn't attend the wedding.

Please give him our regards.

With any luck, the gout will abate with
time and he will be able to walk again.

They call it the rich man's disease.

A wonder you don't have it.

Noblemen in my part of the country

don't enjoy the same lifestyle
as our counterparts in Dorne.

People everywhere have their differences.

In some places,
the highborn frown upon those of low birth.

In other places,
the rape and murder of women and children

is considered distasteful.

What a fortunate thing for you,
former Queen Regent,

that your daughter Myrcella has been sent
to live in the latter sort of place.

Everyone, silence! Clear the floor.

There's been too much amusement
here today.

A royal wedding is not an amusement.

A royal wedding is history.

Time has come for all of us
to contemplate our history.

My lords,

my ladies,

I give you

King Joffrey,

Renly, Stannis,

Robb Stark, Balon Greyjoy!

The War of the Five Kings!

I'm the rightful king.

- King in the North!
- Yes!

Traitor.

You're a traitor.

I'm the King
of the Seven Kingdoms!

Let the war begin.

Renly, you're no king.

Away, degenerate.

Careful.

- Go on.
- I want you to be my prince.

Stannis!

Who's got the gold now, Stark?

I am the rightful king.

Challenge me, kraken.

- Take that.
- I'm drowning!

I am the King in the North!

Not wildfire!

Pay each of them 20 gold when this is done.

Yes, my lord.

We'll have to find another way
to thank the King.

Charge!

Ready? Again.

I am the King in the North!

- Charge!
- Charge!

Yes!

Your head!

Fine gentlemen.

Well fought.

Here you are. Champion's purse.

Though you're not the
champion yet, are you?

A true champion defeats
all the challengers.

Surely there are others out there
who still dare to challenge my reign.

Uncle.

How about you?
I'm sure they have a spare costume.

One taste of combat was enough for me,
Your Grace.

I would like to keep
what remains of my face.

I think you should fight him.

This was but a poor imitation
of your own bravery on the field of battle.

I speak as a firsthand witness.

Climb down from the high table
with your new Valyrian sword

and show everyone
how a true king wins his throne.

Be careful, though.

This one is clearly mad with lust.

It would be a tragedy for
the King to lose his virtue

hours before his wedding night.

A fine vintage.

Shame that it spilled.

It did not spill.

My love, come back to me.

It's time for my father's toast.

How does he expect me
to toast without wine?

Uncle, you can be my cupbearer

seeing as you're too cowardly to fight.

Your Grace does me a great honour.

It's not meant as an honour.

Bring me my goblet.

What good is an empty cup?

Fill it.

Kneel.

Kneel before your king.

Kneel.

I said kneel!

Look, the pie.

My Queen.

Wonderful.

My hero.

- Can we leave now?
- Let's find out.

Uncle.

Where are you going?

You're my cupbearer, remember?

I thought I might change out of
these wet clothes, Your Grace.

No, you're perfect the way you are.

Serve me my wine.

Hurry up. This pie is dry.

Mmm, good.

Needs washing down.

If it please Your Grace,

- Lady Sansa is very tired.
- No.

No, you'll wait here...

Your Grace?

It's nothing.

- He's choking!
- Help the poor boy.

- Idiots, help your king.
- Move away!

- Joffrey!
- Help him!

- Someone help him!
- Joffrey!

- Come with me now.
- Joffrey!

If you want to live, we have to leave.

Don't touch him!

Joffrey.

Please, Joffrey.

Joffrey, what is it?

Help him!

My son.

He did this.

He poisoned my son,

your king.

Take him!

Take him!