My friends, what a heart-rending conclusion to an episode.
Rhaenyra walked into the Sept seeking reconciliation; she left with a moral clarity of cause she could never have imagined; while Alicent’s deep faith was shaken ironically in the location it should be at its strongest.
These two queens, both alike in dignity, realising the wars to come are based on a key foundational error in a powerhouse encounter fierier than all the candles set before them, a scene so tense, and powerful, and beautifully played by two actors at the top of their game that deserves dedicated committed reviewing, and yet—–
FULL FRONTAL MALE NUDITY! WHOOP WHOOP! SOUND THE ALARUMS! WHOOOP WHOOOOOP! WANG! DONG! DOODLE! JOHNSON! TODGER! TALLYWACKER! NOB! PECKER! SCHLONG! TROUSER SNAKE! CUSTARD BAYONET! FLESH NOODLE! PURPLE-HEADED JUNKET PUMPER! LIEUTENANT-GENERAL LOLLYPOP! TURTLE-NECKED GIGGLE STICK! EXPOSED MALE GENITALIA! Oh wait, that’s not a euphemism.
Sorry I think I might have developed sudden onset Tourette’s.
And YES, I KNOW, I’m being incredibly SEXIST and REDUCTIONIST.
But this is cause for CELEBRATION, beautiful readers.
I have racked my brains to recall a moment as glorious as Aemond’s dramatic one-eyed reveal in the Wester-verse, but I couldn’t think of one. Sure, we saw Hodor’s “hodor” back in the day, but that was like waving at a particularly dopey Bernese Mountain Dog.
Here, not ONLY do we have a full on panopticorgy on the Street of Silk, not ONLY do we have an extended shot of a lady, well, “Heralding the King By Vigorous Trumpet Playing”, but we get Aemond, tackle out, striding away from his bullshit brother in full “cool guys don’t look back” mode.
This show just levelled UP.
I can’t tell you what a delight it was. I was cheering from the couch. The dense emotional nature of this show can sometimes feel like a forest, but for one glorious moment, we just got to stare at the tree.
Yeah, I googled “penis tree”, I’m not proud of it. Actually, I’m fine with it.
Clearly, as the juvenile pervert I am, I have focused on an intrinsically male moment of this episode. But I would venture that the ways of women versus the ways of men form a key theme:
When men act like cocks of the walk, women have to be more canny.
(And yes, I know Lord Jasper used the term “cunny”, so the slang for genitalia doesn’t quite line up, but please allow me some poetic license with all the junk references).
Yeah, you know what I googled.
Of course, when you put two female brains together you might just realise what kind of colossal f***-up started this whole thing in the first place.
S2E3: The Burning Mill
You’ve got to love a battle without the boring hack and slash of an actual battle.
A brief skirmish between teenage Brackens and Blackwoods - the Jets and Sharks of Westeros - over land boundaries turned into a spat over allegiances, that turned into a “cut to some time later” and about 4000 bodies speared on a field, and the burning mill of the title.
We’ve seen a bit of Bracken/Blackwood bad blood before (say that ten times fast), back when Rhaenyra was touring the kingdom auditioning potential husbands - and we’re reminded several times during the episode that these two houses have been bickering for so long, nobody even knows how the rivalry started.
They say that to try to make it seem LESS like a real escalation for the Greens and the Blacks - a non mea culpa - when in fact it’s THE WHOLE POINT. Nostra Maxima Culpa - it’s all our fault.
As Rhaenys counsels Rhaenyra as they bury Arryk and Erryk, they’re at a tipping point when the reason for the war stops mattering. Was it really Aegon taking Rhaenyra’s throne? Or, in fact, Rhaenyra letting Aegon’s son be killed? Or, in fact, Aemond killing Lucerys? Or, in fact, Lucerys taking Aemond’s eye? Or, in fact, or, in fact, or, in fact… on and on it goes until nobody remembers nor cares.
That’s a good general rule for most history - except for Hitler (and maybe Napoleon). Yes, the roots of World War Two were definitely in the conclusion of World War One, but you can generally pinpoint Hitler rolling panzers into Poland as the real kick off.
Once again, Rhaenys is the MVT - Most Valuable Targaryen. Can you imagine anyone else telling Rhaenyra that she allowed a babe to be murdered in its bed and Rhae-Rhae just having to accept it?
Rhaenys is the kind of life coach we all need. Firm, fair, honest - but kind. She was screwed over by Jaehaerys’ decision not to name her heir back in the day, but rather than become embittered, she has learned key lessons, built solid relationships with the small number of people she can trust, developed observation skills as keen as her dragon’s, and keeps her own council. All of which confirms she probably was the best choice for Queen, but oh no, gotta have that male bloodline.
The other person becoming more and more valuable is Magical Mysaria Tour, who’s decided against joining that Contiki tour of Essos and instead asks for an official place in Rhaenyra’s court. She thinks it’s a fair reward for saving the Queen’s life from assassination, but more to the point, Rhaenyra should want her at court, given she’s the one who knows all the insider info about King’s Landing.
Mysaria admits to wanting to punish the Hightowers for ruining her White Worm spy network and killing its participants, but her true reason is more noble - concern for the small folk. They’ll be ruled by either Aegon or Rhaenyra, and so far only Rhaenyra has shown herself as worthy.
“I hope you don’t mistake mercy for pliancy,” retorts Rhaenyra, which Mysaria leaves unanswered. Instead, she points out Seasmoke, who’s having an odd mid-air moment of wailing and moaning off Dragonstone.
Yeahhh no idea why, says Rhaenyra, but Mysaria has an answer: “Maybe he’s lonely?” Fair comment - but was she really talking just about the dragon?
In contrast to the calm intelligence of both Rhaenys and Mysaria, Rhaenyra’s male advisors are all straining at the chain mail to start letting dragons loose on great swathes of Westeros.
Rhaenys had pointed out the Arryk assassination mission was not something Otto Hightower would have permitted, meaning younger, hotter blood had taken over in the Greens’ camp. But Rhaenyra is facing it here too; she’s battered by blokes telling her to take advantage of the lack of movement from King’s Landing to smoke out the baddies.
Rhaenyra doesn’t want to - sending dragons in only invites their own destruction. They’re the equivalent of nuclear weapons, and Rhae-Rhae is wary about pushing the big red button. It’s very Yes Prime Minister, when Hacker and Sir Humphrey argue whether Britain would ever use the Trident nuclear deterrent.
Her councillors disagree. “The value of a sword is not within its scabbard,” leers one of them. Again, the imagery is phallic, as is the intention: this is a man’s business, little lady, let’s get you away from our role-playing table so we can roll for initiative all on our own.
“It would merely be a precaution-
“IT WOULD BE TREASON!”
Thankfully, Rhaenyra’s retort shuts them up. After she leaves, Rhaenys reminds them that Rhaenyra wears the crown of Jaehaerys the Conciliator - the best of all Targaryen kings, one who was well regarded as a mediator, AND had the longest reign in Westeros. Point made.
There’s a charming parallel here with Alicent, as she’s enduring similar bickering at the Greens Small Council in the capital.
On account of getting a real job, Ser Criston Cole has also got a haircut. He’s wearing the Hand’s necklace of power over his white cloak, and seemingly the weight of the world on his shoulders. A lot of staring intensely at a chair results in him being late for the meeting - that and stopping to look sharply at a bunch of shonky new bodyguards lining the route.
It turns out Aegon has appointed his own hype guys to White Cloaks to boost the ranks, after Ser Arryk went to the great big Kevin Costner Fan Club in the sky.
Criston is unapologetic for sending Ser Arryk to his death on what Alicent calls a “rash” scheme - a bit rich when she’s probably got a rash herself from all the Cole-play she’s been singing recently. Give her greens and his whites, I wonder what colour those rashes would be?
Aemond says the Bracken/Blackwood Burning Mill bust-up brou-haha (try saying that ten times fast) shows the hot war has begun; the others trade barbs on the best response - who’s gathering the biggest army, where best to launch an attack - all while Aegon looks bored and plays with the Cat’s Paw dagger (Arya would never).
Alicent is pissed by the bickering and tells them all to shut the hell up; while Aemond continues his audition for a Bond henchman role by flicking a coin across his knuckles.
Criston declares he will ride out with a small band of well-trained men from King’s Landing, secure the Crownlands, then convert Harrenhal, the key to the Riverlands. Aegon likes the idea, but after Criston insists Aemond and Vhagar stay behind to protect the city, says he’ll come along instead, with his dragon Sunfyre.
Everyone sort of mumbles, not wanting to risk the king’s displeasure by suggesting he’s a petulant nob who’ll make everything worse. Criston insists a dragon will attract too much attention; and finally Aemond uses pretty words backed up by a firm stare to convince his brother that he’s simply too valuable.
Aegon remains petulant. “I’m as fearsome as any of them.”
Remember Tywin Lannister’s reprimand of Joffrey?
The moment with Aegon definitely has the same vibe.
Alicent’s whispered “Oh.” was probably the best delivery we’ve ever seen from Olivia Cooke - well, at least until later this episode. She said so much just a few seconds: disappointed eyes, disbelieving lips.
Alicent’s whispered “Oh.” of disappointment was probably the best delivery we’ve ever seen from Olivia Cooke - well, at least until later this episode.
A while later, we see Ser Criston getting ready to saddle up and get the hell out of Dodge - but Alicent adds a new addition to his team. She has a brother, and he’s…
Ser Gwayne the Green Knight!
All the medieval English majors say HEYOOOOO! That arts degree has finally paid off in chivalric poetry references!
“I’m going to do a headless thing, you’ll go on a quest, there’ll be a cuck situation, it’s a whole mood.”
And yes, I know it’s Sir Gawain AND the Green Knight, but again, some poetic licence, please. He’s literally wearing green. Also, is it just me, or does he have a David Bowie thing going on?
Ser Gwayne is all courtly politeness, but definitely lets a bit of Hightower snobbery loose on the Dornish-born Ser Criston. “My father, the hand of three kings, replaced by a trumped-up bodyguard?” It’s almost enough to make me feel a bit sorry for Westeros’ Greatest Incel.
Alicent wishes Criston luck, and while he thanks her for her prayers, he’d also like her favour, so he can go into battle with her blessings in his heart VOMIT EMOJI.
With half a sigh, Alicent does something every woman on this good earth has done - ferreted down her bra for a spare tissue. A courteous public farewell - but has she sent her brother along to help him, or to spy on him?
Ser Criston and his merry band head out of the city gates, a bit of impressive CGI work that makes me think they don’t really need to shoot in Dubrovnik anymore, which is a shame because I once drank a metre margarita during a great night out in Dubrovnik. And when I say “I drank a metre margarita”, I mean “my three friends drank a metre margarita and I had a small sip and scrunched my nose up and went back to my Coke Zero and my friends then ordered a metre Sex on the Beach.”
Of course, Criston’s going to have an interesting journey AND an even more interesting destination, as somebody’s already gotten to Harrenhal before them.
Let’s welcome a new friend to the group chat - Ser Simon Strong, Castellan of Harrenhal. I don’t know how I missed this, but I’d never really known what to call the person in charge of the great ruined fortress. After all, Harren the Black was torched inside by Aegon the Conqueror, there was no more highborn family residing there. Castellan therefore makes perfect sense.
Ser Simon is played by… Sir Simon! Sir Simon Russell Beale,one of those classical English character actors whose talent should be illegal. I’ve never had the pleasure of seeing him on stage, where I believe he is extraordinary, but he’s been in so much stuff over the years - including a brilliant turn as Beria in Armando Ianucci’s The Death of Stalin, which is a belter.
I really hope they don’t send him the way of Oliver Ford Davies - whom you probably won’t remember as Stannis Baratheon’s Maester from the first episode of Game of Thrones season 2. He tried to poison Kate Bush to save Stannis, and was promptly knocked off for his trouble. Davies is another genius character actor who deserved more screen time, so I certainly hope House of the Dragon treats Simon Russell Beale-y well.
I love that Daemon’s much-vaunted taking of Harrenhal involved… interrupting dinner.
The Prince expected trouble in the dank halls of the castle, but no, the Strongs folded faster than an origami ironing board. He had to hide his disappointment at not being able to conduct some ultraviolence by accusing his hosts of trying to poison him.
“You ARE welcome here,” insists Ser Simon, mopping up his delicious aged venison with black cabbage and peas, but no redcurrants, sorry about that.
Daemon suspects their ready loyalty, given their kinsman Ser Larys “Creepy Clubfoot” Strong even now sits plotting with the Greens in King’s Landing.
“Oh, don’t talk to us about THAT GUY,” spits Ser Simon. It turns out they’re pretty confident Ser Larys knocked off Ser Harwin Strong and his Dad, because how the hell would a large fire accidentally break out in the building with the highest rising damp in Westeros?
“We hope you don’t have an aversion to the word moist.”
Begrudgingly, Daemon accepts the reasoning, and says he needs Harrenhal to garrison the huge number of soldiers he plans to continue converting to Queen Rhaenyra’s side.
That’s all very well and good, but leading on from last week’s blow-out fight with Rhaenyra, the detail most important to us through this whole scene may very well be Daemon’s insistence on being called “Your Grace”, rather than “My Prince”. It seems Daemon is feeling a little unsexed, and seeks to metaphorically grab his testicles in reassurance. Given he can’t go balls-out with physical intimidation, the superior title becomes his way to be see as a baller.
I mean it’s all very simple Freudian, this analysis, but I’m sure we can agree Daemon considers himself well-Jung.
“If - sorry, WHEN - you are successful, what then?” Ser Simon asks, only to be told Daemon plans to take this new army and march on King’s Landing to seize power. “The throne?!” Ser Simon gasps.
“It’s a big chair. Made of swords,” is Daemon’s Zuckerian reply.
A bit later on, we try to see Daemon get some shut eye in the clammy guest suite, complete with internal free-range plumbing. There’s obviously some funky mould in the drips as it seems to send Daemon off on an acid trip, in which he stumbles into a warm room with a crackling blaze only to find a teenage Rhaenyra calmly sewing the head back on baby Jaehaerys, before beaming up to a desolate patch of land with some weirwood trees and a mystery woman in black.
“You’re going to die in this place,” she says, in what to me sounded very much like an American accent.
Who was that chickie babe, and what’s her story? Maybe a red priestess - but her dress didn’t look very red. Hmmm, a mystery.
Less mysterious is the wonderful Milly Alcock in an all-too brief cameo. What a great phone call that must have been: “We want you to come back, you’re going to be sewing a baby’s head back on its neck, it’s going to be great”.
As well as being a fun day on set, you could argue the dream depicts Daemon as having some sort of personal reckoning with his foolish behaviour - the beheaded babe is obvious, of course, but also the ways in which he took advantage of Rhaenyra’s youth to further his own ambitions, leaving her to “clean up” after his mess.
Despite being told he shouldn’t fly north, Aegon plans to do just that, donning the Valyrian steel armour of his namesake to do so. Ser Larys Strong, ever the manipulator, uses his knowledge of town gossip to suggest Alicent and Aemond might be happy to rule in his stead if he flew away.
Despite his apparent horniness for Alicent’s feet, he seems to be keen to isolate Aegon further from his mother. Maybe it’s due to Ser Criston, uhh, getting his head in the game; maybe it’s just his way of consolidating his own desire to rule using the easiest vessel to do that. Certainly it IS rewarding; Aegon names him his new Master of Whispers, a position for which his father had felt no need. Again, telling that Viserys had the self-belief to not listen to gossip; Aegon’s crown lies on an uneasy head.
He decides against flying to Harrenhal and agrees to his hype guys’ plan to casually break their new vows of chastity in order to break in a new squire.
So let’s cut to the cocky chase - a rowdy night out in the city.
First of all - who the hell is “Ulf”? I gleaned the name from the subtitles, but why is so much time - and a gorgeous one-shot take through the tavern - devoted to an obvious grifter? Someone who’s talk of being the bastard brother of King Viserys and Prince Daemon gets him enough free drink and booze to carry on with?
“You be quiet, but I will loudly pronounce my heritage to the entire room.”
My best guess is that it allowed for the great joke of the room falling silent as Ulf refers to his “nephew”, Jacerys Velaryon, as the rightful heir - just as Aegon walks in. We’ve all had that experience of saying something inappropriate incredibly loudly just as the music stops or room quiets.
The fact that Ulf immediately shouts “Hail to the King!” would suggest he’s a mountebank making bank, and very relieved that Aegon didn’t hear his treasonous bragging.
Aegon announces the drinks are on him, then proceeds to start lining up shots for his hype guys and the new squire.
It’s not long before they’re stumbling into the Ye Olde Knocking Shoppe to find a cherry-picker for the young squire, ripping back curtains to reveal clients indulging in an array of saucy menu items. Talk about finger lickin’ good.
Now, my friends, we all know I’m a mega-perv, but I can’t have been the only one to see a very explicit shot of a lady performing, well, lip service on a client. There were a few extended seconds of a very extended few inches. It’s at 42:50 to 42:54, not that I’m weird or anyting. To be honest, I was actually quite shocked by it! It’s rare to see a deep throating depicted so visibly in prestige drama. One assumes it was a prosthetic organ, but the actor working the shaft itself was not faking it.
As Aegon stumbles about, he mutters about needing Silvi or Selyse and UH OH we realise what’s coming just as he rips the curtain back on a plush private room.
Yes, it’s Aemond, curled up next to Madam Silvi again, in the same position of comfort and security we saw last episode.
It’s chaste as you can get, and yet a position of deepest intimacy and vulnerability for Aemond. Aegon immediately falls about laughing, mocking his brother for maintaining a connection to the same woman who introduced him to the pleasures of the flesh.
Aegon sees this loyalty as a weakness, as unmanly.
But Aemond takes his figurative castration and upends it. As he rose to his full height and began to turn around, I was expecting an edit. But no, Aemond turns to face his brother’s friends, eyepatch off and tackle out, and stares them down. It’s a moment of personal power, in which Aemond reclaims his status (even if it’s just in his own mind) as the most worthy Targaryen prince.
This is why I need to find a way to make my own GIFs. Also, holy hell, Aemond is CUT.
“Your squire is welcome to her. One whore is as good as another.” GODSDAMNIT AEMOND YOU WERE DOING SO WELL.
He strides past them, not looking back, having won back the status in that battle. I know why he said what he said about Silvi, but she did look hurt, and he could have been so much classier. “She is worth your money,” or “Try to keep up,” or “You don’t have to do this” to the squire would have added extra nuance. And Gen Z is supposed to be all about caring, aren’t they? There’s no need to be a dick, Aemond, particularly when you’ve got such a nice one already right there.
Alas, no. He may have been working on his Mummy issues, but there’s still a range of douchebaggery that needs working out.
All right, let’s get to the epic final sequence of this episode - the evidence for women needing to talk to women directly to truly get stuff done in this world.
Rhaenys had suggested to Rhaenyra at the start of the episode that Alicent Hightower might be a good ally to develop, as Rhaenys knows Alicent does not want war. Rhaenyra still hasn’t read Alicent’s raven message apologising for Luke’s death - but after a few hours alone after sending her remaining young sons alone, she gets bored and decides to crack it open.
Convinced by the message that they should meet, Rhaenyra then seeks out Magical Mysaria Tour for her speciality travel agent services. “It would be easier to kill her than talk to her,” Mysaria says drolly.
The only way to meet Alicent is for Rhaenyra to get into King’s Landing and find Alicent in the on place she isn’t constantly surrounded by guards or ladies, and so we find Rhaenyra dressed as a Septa, accompanied by a disguised gold cloak, sailing into the harbour and heading towards the Sept of Baelor.
Their walk through King’s Landing was super engaging to watch. I didn’t feel Rhaenyra was in danger - because Mysaria was right when she said nobody would recognise a Queen out of her Queen costume - but there was a delicious tension building. Would she manage to meet Alicent? Would Alicent scream and demand she be captured? Would they actually manage to achieve a common goal?
The answers to the first two questions are yes and almost:
The resulting scene of the two of them, knelt in prayer before a circle of candles, was simply wonderful to watch. They did so much with their faces and eyes, both subtle and bold, both infuriating and awe-inspiring. Much like last week’s extended scene between Rhaenyra and Daemon, it allows both actors to flex their muscles in the intimate diplomacy of friends turned mortal enemies.
“I have begun badly,” Rhaenyra apologises after threatening to stab Alicent if she cried out for help. It takes a moment to recompose herself, and she appeals to their shared childhood experience of bloody tourneys to try to get her onside. Men trained to fight WANT to fight, there’s nothing to be done about that. It’s a razor sharp observation that silences Alicent’s initial protest.
“So you’ve come to surrender?” she asks. “I have come to see if we can find a path to peace,” Rhaenyra replies, not yet fully baring her cards. They have a brief angry exchange over the death of their respective kin - Rhaenyra’s son, Alicent’s gulp grandson - but it’s lovely to see both of them offer apologies of sorts.
Alicent is incensed by Rhaenyra’s accusation that she deliberately plotted against her, and lied about Viserys’ last moments, in which, according to her, he named Aegon as his heir. She’s literally praying at the feet of the Mother (I assume that’s why there’s only women around), and wearing a Faith of the Seven pendant around her neck. Whether or not she actually is truly devoted, Alicent considers herself devoted, and so any questioning of that devotion is an affront.
Rhaenyra pulls back, and instead tenderly asks about those final minutes with Viserys. This is not a queen speaking, but a daughter, who wasn’t there to see her beloved Dad pass away. But the spell is broken when Alicent says Viserys called Aegon “The Prince Who Was Promised” and would unite the realm.
Rhaenyra’s reaction is the stuff of meme legend; a wide-eyed double take and hissed “Did he use those words?”
Alicent is confused as Rhaenyra asks if Viserys told her of The Song of Ice and Fire. Alicent stays mum, but
The way Alicent’s throat catches when she says “The Con…. the Conqueror,” - by the Old Gods and New, I was so rapt, I almost forgot what my name was.
“There has been a mistake!” Rhaenyra says, almost delighted. Finally, this is proof she remains the rightful heir. Surely now Alicent understands the meaning behind Viserys’ croaked deathbed ramblings, she will act to restrain her family, and restore peace and the true succession.
Sadly… no.
Oh, Alicent! Rhaenyra is right, you CAN stop this! How about practising what you preach, and actually HAVING A LITTLE FAITH?
But she’s her father’s guidance, her sons’ respect, and her lover’s presence. Momentum has caught on, and momentum is a bitch.
The swelling of beautiful music with lyric-less vocalisations underscoring the end of this scene reinforces the breakdown in their relationship as Alicent walks away - when you can no longer use words, the only way to express yourself is through screams.
And so we return to our key themes of this episode: the different diplomatic approaches of women to men; and the loss of origin stories to time. Despite Rhaenyra’s best efforts to be a conciliator, the reasons for the terrible looming war are fading fast into obscurity. Eventually even the women’s art of compromise is ground into the dust.
The question now of course is - will Rhaenyra adopt a more masculine line of attack knowing that she has divine purpose on her side?
Yay! Best Moments
I adored the final Sept-piece, but let’s take a moment to applaud Baela Targaryen for her “DIVE, DIVE, DIVE!” approach to patrolling on dragonback.
I think there was a bit of glinting steel, but still, how she spotted Ser Criston, Ser Gwayne the Green Knight and his best mates from that distance I don’t know.
Ser Gwayne was giving Criston a hard time for wanting them to camp with the rest of the crew, instead of popping off to a well-known inn for a feather bed and a brew. But it’s Criston who realises they’re exposed, and notices the tiny black slit in the sky.
“Get to the trees!” he screams, and the knights all ride hell for leather to the cover of the woods.
Baela puts Moondancer into a screaming kamikaze dive, which is incredibly impressive. She zooms in close enough to recognise Ser Criston - again, crazy eyesight at high speed - but then pulls Moondancer fast as they enter the forest.
Later Rhaenyra asks her how she could tell it was Criston from flying height, to which Baela cheekily responds “It wasn’t that high - you just said not to engage, and I didn’t… much!”
Zing! Best Lines
Daemon: I claim Harrenhal.
Sir Simon: Apparently so.
Chef’s kiss. No notes.
Ew, gross
Tell you what, that was a great shot of a crow plucking an eyeball out of the disintegrating face of Cheese, who still hangs from the city gates. It was a reminder of how quickly action is moving in the timeline of the show, but also how quickly we can all be turned into beak fodder.
Boo, sucks
I must admit I feel sad for Rhaena, Daemon’s daughter and Rhaenyra’s niece. She never got a dragon, has had her cousin/fiance Luke murdered, and now is being sent away with the younger Targaryen sons to protect and train them. I would take it personally too.
“I need you to be the mother I cannot be,” Rhaenyra charges her. Rhaena is jealous of Baela, but her sister is kind and doesn’t try to impress upon her the importance of sacrifice and serving her part TOO much. There’s even some potential hope that maybe Rhaena might get her own dragon - as well as taking the young boys’ hatchling dragons with them, she’s given a case of four dragon eggs, nested over a portable fire to keep them warm.
I noticed that one of them was silver in tone - but the others were red, yellow and green. It’s not terribly hard to make the leap to thinking they might in fact be the three dragon eggs Daenerys is given as a wedding gift in the very first episode of Game of Thrones - the ones that will hatch into Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal.
"On no account are you to turn these into the world’s biggest omelette.”
After all, Rhaena is directed to drop Joffrey and his dragon to ward with Lady Jeyne Arryn in the Vale, then take the little ones to Pentos. Pentos is where Dany is presented to Khal Drogo, and it’s Illyrio Mopatis who bequeaths her the eggs “from the Shadowlands beyond Asshai”. It’s not beyond reasonable to think that after the Dance of the Dragons, the dragon eggs were hidden, and perhaps their true origins lost to time.
I did wonder about Seasmoke - who appeared last episode but I mistook him for Moondancer, and reappears early in the episode to the confusion of Magical Mysaria Tour.
It’s interesting that Laenor’s dragon is all angsty, as we know he’s technically not dead. Maybe he senses his rider is still out there somewhere, maybe he wants a new rider. You’d think maybe they’d consider helping the dragonless Rhaena with a ready-made beast. After all, Mysaria pondered whether it was simply lonely. But was she just talking about the dragon?
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