Original subtitles

Have you seen your father?

Your little cousins have lost their mother.

They could use a kind word.

I have an equal claim to sympathy.

- Jace. - We should be at Harrenhal,

mourning Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin.

It would not be appropriate.

The Velaryons are our kin and the Strongs are not.

Look at me.

Do you understand?

Hand turns loom;

spool of green, spool of black;

dragons of flesh

weaving dragons of thread.

Hand turns loom; spool of green...

- We have nothing in common. - She's our sister.

- You marry her, then. - I would perform my duty,

- if mother had only betrothed us. - If only.

It would strengthen the family.

Keep our Valyrian blood pure.

- She's an idiot. - She's your future queen.

We actually do have

one thing in common.

We both fancy creatures with very long legs.

Wench!

- Another! - Aegon.

Dragon's flesh, weaving dragons of thread.

Lyonel Strong's son's been staring at you since the moment we arrived, Your Grace.

Unabashedly.

It is only a look of pride, Ser Criston.

Larys is the new Lord of Harrenhal.

Both my seat and High Tide

will be yours one day, Lucerys.

Your brother will be king, of course.

He'll sit on endless councils and ceremonies,

but Lord of the Tides rules the sea.

Sorry.

I don't want it.

It's your birthright, lad.

If I'm the Lord of Driftmark, it means everyone's dead.

- I'm very sorry. - Thank you. Thank you.

Grandma...

I don't want Mother to be gone.

Retrieve your patron.

Brother.

Your girls are the very image of their mother.

A comfort and an anguish,

as I well remember.

The gods can be cruel.

It seems they've been especially cruel to you.

Yes.

You should return with us to King's Landing.

It's time that you came home.

Pentos is my home...

- and that of my children. - Daemon...

I know we've had our differences,

but let them pass with the years.

There's a place for you in my court

if that's something you should need.

I need... nothing.

Brother.

I'm sorry for your loss, my Prince.

No matter how fat the leech grows, it always wants for another meal.

Go to bed.

- But, Mother... - Go to bed.

I'm going to bed, Aemma.

Shall I see after Queen Alicent, Your Grace?

No, Ser Harrold.

You have the night's watch, Ser Criston.

Lord Commander.

Brother?

Get to bed.

She wanted to come home

and he denied her.

Daemon did what he thought best.

Daemon only ever does what is best for Daemon.

Laena needed our maesters.

The surgeons in Pentos are as well-trained

as our maesters.

You are looking to place blame for an act of the gods.

Mayhaps the gods have scorned us...

for our insatiable pride.

The crown was yours

until those fools at the Great Council plucked it from your head.

Is it such a terrible thing for your husband to wish to win it back?

Tonight of all nights, let us lay aside this falsehood.

It is not justice for your wife that drives you.

It is your own ambition.

'Tis desire for the throne,

if not for yourself, then for the scions of your house.

I gave up the idea of wearing a crown a generation ago.

It is you, lord husband, who refuses to abandon this pursuit,

even now, at the cost of our children.

What is this brief mortal life...

if not the pursuit of legacy?

Legacy may be why you live your life, Corlys.

I want Driftmark to pass through Laena's line to Baela.

To true Velaryon blood.

Declare it now, while all are gathered here,

and we will say that is how we will honor Laena's memory.

And disinherit our son?

He will be the King Consort.

His son will one day sit the Iron Throne.

You would have me cast an even darker shadow

over those little boys than already exists.

We are alone here, husband.

You can speak the plain truth as we both know it:

Rhaenyra's children are not of your blood.

But Laena's are.

They are her legacy.

History does not remember blood.

It remembers names.

Laenor has been restless for years,

but now, he will be useless.

Or worse.

I know better than anyone that our marriage is a farce.

But I at least make the effort to maintain appearances.

You have more to lose.

Yes, well, that has been my lot since my father named me heir.

We did try...

to conceive a child.

We performed our duty as best we could.

But to no avail.

There was no joy in it.

I found that elsewhere.

It felt good to be desired.

I understand Ser Harwin was quite...

devoted to you.

Yes, he was.

And I trusted him.

Should've forbidden Ser Harwin from returning to the River lands.

Harren's curse is said to be as strong now as it was after the Conquest.

That's a ghost story,

one Ser Otto and the Queen would gladly exploit.

I do not believe Alicent capable of cold murder.

Each of us is capable of depravity.

And more than you would believe.

I believe it of you.

If you're accusing me of some depravity,

you'll need to be more specific.

I've been alone.

- You abandoned me. - I spared you.

- You were a child. - Yes.

Yes, I was a child.

And look at what my life became without you.

Droll tragedy.

And I wonder what you think of mine by comparison?

I know little of it.

Did you love her?

We were happy enough.

Well, that in itself is a great achievement.

- I am sorry. - Don't be.

I am at least allowed to mourn my losses.

Rhaenyra.

I'm no longer a child.

I want you.

Fuck.

Dohaeras!

Dohaeras, Vhagar! Lykiri!

Lykiri!

Lykiri.

Soves!

Dohaeras, Vhagar! Soves!

Yeah!

Jace, Jace.

Jace, wake up. Wake up.

- Someone stole Vhagar. - What?

Who is it?

Jace, what are we doing?

- It's him. - It's me.

- Vhagar is my mother's dragon. - Your mother's dead.

- And Vhagar has a new rider now. - She was mine to claim.

Then you should've claimed her!

Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride.

It would suit you.

Come at me again and I'll feed you to my dragon!

You will die screaming in flames just as your father did!

Bastards.

My father's still alive.

He doesn't know, does he, Lord Strong?

Jace!

Cease this at once!

Get away!

My Prince, my Prince. Let me see.

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