***Warning: Spoilers Ahead***
Woooooaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!
Did… did Rhae-Rhae just go gay-gay?
Of all the things I was expecting in this episode, the Black Queen taking a pit stop on the Magical Mysaria Tour was not among them.
Certainly there has been Pride-proud pashing in the Wester-verse - Renly and Slow Loras for instance, or Yara Greyjoy and, well, basically anybody - but this did have a different feel.
To me, the moment read more as comfort, intimacy and support - both women grateful for true friendship, loyalty and equality - than open lust.
OK, there might be a little bit of lust.
But I am keen to hear your thoughts - particularly if you’re one of our Sapphic sisters. Welcome development or cheap ploy?
I’m interested in what this episode has to say about the nature of power itself, and its mediation on female leadership.
It is remarkable that this episode aired just hours after US President Joe Biden announced his withdrawal as 2024 candidate, and his endorsement of VP Kamala Harris.
I don’t normally bring super topical news into the recaps - why, last week, there was an assassination on Donald Trump and I didn’t even mention it! - but it burbled away in the back of my mind during this week’s episode to the point where I felt I just had to let it flavour the Sodastream of my reflections.
In a world of virtually unbeatable super weapons, how do you make sure the “right” people are able to control them? And in the eyes of many - including themselves - can women ever be those “right” people?
Also, a dude totally gets his hand chopped off and there IS such a thing as the Dragon Distribution System, but more on that later.
HoTD S2E5: Smallfolk
What a strange thing to hear the strains of “The Rains of Castamere” as the Lannister army pulls up at the never-before-seen Westerland fortress known as The Golden Tooth.
Technically that song doesn’t exist in-world - if we remember, it was written after Tywin Lannister’s destruction of House Reyne probably 40 years or so before the events of Game of Thrones. But frankly, the refrain is too damn catchy not to use, so I’m fine with its non-diagetic use here.
Jason Lannister is accompanied by 1000 knights and 7000 archers and infantrymen. He also has two actual goddamn lions being carried around in big cages for… morale? Entertainment? Certainly I’d feel more spirited if Jason Lannister shoved his dickish head in the lion’s mouth.
For no sooner has the local lord welcomed him and said his 500-strong contingent was ready to roll out, Lannister demands word be sent to King’s Landing that he won’t go any further until Prince Aemond and Vhagar provide back-up.
“Right now, we all want to party,” he tells his confused-looking now-host. Jason might have a caged lion, but I think we all know the real pussy.
The news is not taken well by Aemond, almost cartoonishly balling up the message slip in the Small Council.
“Your effing brother has a lot of nerve,” he snarls at a squirming Tyland.
Alicent tries to get a word in, but Aemond doesn’t want to hear it. He orders Tyland to do a deal with the Triarchy to break the blockade in the Gullet outside King’s Landing. Alicent tries to warn him about their duplicitousness, but Aemond doesn’t want to hear it. The Lannister and Hightower ships will take too long, he reasons, and they need to get the city moving again.
When Ser Criston tries to back up the Queen Dowager, Aemond retorts by saying he thinks it’s time for the Hand of the King to head to Harrenhal. It’s a fortnight’s march, and he needs to be in Cole position before Daemon can secure the support of the Riverlords.
Aemond dismisses the council, but before Alicent can scutter away, asks her for a quiet word. We saw last week upon Aemond’s succession her minimisation at the Council, so we knew this was coming, but Aemond makes it official and removes her from the leadership group.
Alicent asks if the indecencies of his childhood are still not avenged. It’s a sharp but appropriate rebuke for a kid who is way too into being the victim who gets comeuppance. I mean, come on, Aemond, it’s not like you weren’t cast in your high school’s production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” when clearly you were the better choice to play Helena, even though you realise now the lovers are kinda boring characters and the faeries and mechanicals are far more fun but it was 1996 and everyone knew you were going to be A Dramatic Actress.
Ahem.
Alicent touches his face, and for a moment he holds her wrist, the first moment mother and son have touched in I don’t know how long. But ultimately, Aemond doesn’t want to hear it. “You have the gratitude of the crown,” he says as he leaves, with all the sincerity of a tick applying for a job at the blood bank. Alicent is left breathlessly angry, when she should be bellicosely angry.
She’s still got another son though, who seems to be making a remarkable recovery given he was broiled in his own armour merely days earlier. But all she can do is hold his hand, apologise, and ponder what his future might be as a Crippled King.
She’s still got one more son though, one she barely knows. Venturing into the mounting yards to look mournfully at a saddling-up Ser Criston (oh, the memories), Alicent is hailed by her brother, who frankly seems a bit over everything and sarcastic.
When Alicent asks if Ser Gwayne the Green Knight has received word from their M-I-A father, he says that if Otto was going to write to anyone it would be her, as the goody-goody-gum-drops paternal favourite. It’s the attitude of someone who possibly needs a little bit of therapy.
“I wonder how you coped being 8 years old and motherless when Father brought me to court,” she asks. “Well you just get on with it, don’t you?” he retorts. Again… therapy.
She then asks about Daeron, the mysterious unseen son we only confirmed existed recently. Apparently, at 16, he’s turning into the most well-rounded Prince you could hope for: stalwart, good with his sword, has an interest in music, and, let’s not beat about the bush, HOT.
More importantly for Alicent though - he’s kind. She looks on the verge of tears as she says kindness is something she’s found lacking in his brothers. Ser Gwayne attributes that to the intrigues of the Red Keep, but she questions whether it was the court… or their mother.
“I’m sure you did your best,” he smiles at her, but it seems to be of cold comfort.
Once again, I feel a certain soft-heartedness towards Alicent, despite the fact that clearly she’s reaping a lot of what she sowed.
She reveals much in that conversation with Ser Gwayne - he was eight when their mother died, therefore she would have been a child too when taken to King’s Landing. So she grew up in the shadow of the Iron Throne just like her children would go on to. Her father was Hand; her whole life was immersed in intrigues. He used her as a pawn to marry Viserys; we saw in the first season how she dutifully performed the role of wife and Queen, and how she chafed at seeing Rhaenyra’s passions and mistakes indulged.
So yes, she’s failed to connect with her own children, but she didn’t exactly have a great grounding to begin with. The effect of the capital is generational.
Aemond is far less eager about his brother’s likely recovery. “What happy news,” he says to the Small Council, with all the sincerity of a mosquito applying for a job at a blood bank.
He goes to see Aegon, demanding to be left alone with the covered-in-cabbage-leaves King. He wants to know exactly what Aegon remembers about the big fight that’s left him resembling a doner kebab meat stack.
Now I thought Aegon’s conflagration at Rooks Rest was more friendly fire than deliberate attack by Aemond, but he seems a little too eager to make sure Aegon gets his story straight. I’m trying to understand the meaning of Aemond using the spinning-marble-ball-thingy from the Small Council as a weight on Aegon’s injury - surely if Aemond was trying to take power away from his brother, he wouldn’t leave the ball behind? Or is it a warning that even the smallest weights will be heavy on Aegon now?
Back in the reduced-size Small Council, Aemond is even less impressed by rumblings that the smallfolk are getting angrier by the day about the lack of food. “Don’t they understand it’s Rhaenyra’s fault for blockading the city?” he asks his compact council.
Lord Larys Strong explains that as Regent, they still look to him for protection and, you know, the basic ability to exist by way of caloric intake. The enemy from within is far more insidious than the enemy without, and the enemy within has an empty stomach.
Lord Larys also raises the Hand of the King issue, suggesting as Ser Criston was his brother’s hand, Aemond should have his own to advance his cause. Aemond is not impressed. “Do you take me for a fool?” he asks, to which Lord Larys can only shake his head, slowly. Aemond has Creepy Larys’ number. “I’live little patience for the self-important, even less for flatterers and lickspittles.” OUCH.
There’s a fantastic bait and switch when Aemond says he will make the issue of the Hand Larys’ responsibility, and Larys responds with such intense pretend “Oh, I didn’t mean me” energy that Aemond immediately calls him a toad in response. In pretending he didn’t want to be Hand, Larys really put his clubfoot in it.
“Send for Otto Hightower,” Aemond orders. Grandad has always been loyal to HIS family.
It’s a dig at the convenient deaths of Larys’ father and brother - rest in peace, studmuffin Harwin - to further Larys’ own cause; but also shows hubris on Aemond’s part. He thinks no one will stand against him because he’s an evil uncaring son of a bitch with no compunctious visitings of nature to shake his fell purpose. But while Larys might have a twisted foot that makes it hard to move on the ground; his loyalties shift quickly on the wind.
And so he immediately goes to see Aegon to warn him his life is in danger. He tells the sad story of his own birth, with his father so disappointed in seeing his clubfoot that he accused a member of their household of witchcraft (hmmm, park that, does he mean Alys Rivers?). He says people will stare at, or turn away in disgust from his disfigurement, and the only thing he can rely on is his intelligence. So he can no longer sink away in pain medication; he must get sharper and focused to stand a chance.
As unlikeable as these characters are, I actually love the idea of these two forming their own little Disability Action Collective. It’s a reminder that even in a brutal world, sheer physical strength is not the only way to achieve power.
Over the water at Dragonstone, Rhaenyra has a new Hand and a new Plan: have Ser Steffon Darklyn audition for the leading role in the Blacks’ live-action production of “How To Train Your Dragon”.
As an aside - I was slightly weirded out by the way they brought Ser Steffon into the GIANT WAR ROOM WITH TABLE MAP. He was the only who took Rhae-Rhae into King’s Landing to meet Alicent; he was at the table last week saying they needed to answer for the capture of Duskendale and his father’s death at the hands of the Greens. He’s part of her Queensguard, so why is he so formally introduced when he arrives?
Anyway, the point is, Rhaenyra gives him every chance to NOT risk the chance of becoming a spit roast - and not the sexy kind.
But Ser Steffon is clearly a sweet baby angel man, who jumps at the chance to help his sworn Queen. He utters a simple yet stunning line that I had never even thought before, thus showing my utter n00biness despite years of humble recappespondent work.
“I am but a man. The dragons are gods.”
Jesus Humphrey Christ. OF COURSE THE DRAGONS ARE GODS. They’re awesome (in both senses of the word), they’re ageless, they’re terrifying, they can be unpredictable and they hatch from eggs. They also are the masters of fire, FFS. That was a gift that the gods were famously keen to keep to themselves.
And here is Rhaenyra, offering to share it with a dude who genuinely seems to have the right motivation. No wonder he bent the knee.
Now in hindsight I can see that it makes total sense for Rhaenyra’s first effort at recruiting a new Dragonrider to go terribly. There would be little narrative tension in a perfectly executed plan that didn’t involve a perfect execution.
But at the time, I guess my innate optimism/terrible memory kicked in. The dragon-whispering scene with its monk-like chanting keepers held me in great suspense, and I thought he’d come through it. He seemed a nice chap and all - even if he did reach for his sword out of instinct when Seasmoke turned up in all his slate grey glory.
Initially signs were positive; Seasmoke flopped his great neck down onto the landing pad in what seemed like supplication. But curiously, as Steffon was prodded forward, and told not to show fear as he commanded the beast to “Dohaeris”, he seemed to be filled with something that approximated triumph. “I’ve done it,” he says.
Was it that, then, that turned Seasmoke? The hubris of someone assuming the job was done before he had even climbed on his back? Or was it just that the blood linking the Darklyns to the Targaryens was diluted by four subsequent generations?
Either way, the change was instant and unambiguous.
Poor Ser Steffon, left to writhe to his death as everyone else scarpers from the platform. They could have at least suggested he take his armour off before making the attempt, so at least he wouldn’t end up doing his best impression of Aegon at the Battle of Rooks Rest (too soon?)
Angry at herself, Rhaenyra nevertheless isn’t impressed with one of her councillors stalking her through the corridors of Dragonstone saying “I told you so.” She winds up smacking him across the face for his trouble, declaring her mistake was to let him forget to fear her.
In her chambers, she restlessly plays with swords, a follow-on from her regret last week at never being taught to fight. Mysaria enters to tell her that their Gossip Girl plan is working; the smallfolk are talking nonstop about their selfish new rulers. Also, this whole black gown and steel sword thing becomes you.
Later, Jace tells her the whole house is abuzz with talk of her slapping Lord Bartimos across the face. She says he’s lucky she didn’t take his tongue, and that she’s sick of her male councillors seeing her like they see their own mothers and daughters - incapable of being a ruler on her own, because she doesn’t display the symbols of leadership like the sword and shield.
“My mother IS my ruler, and I wouldn’t have it any other way” Jace reminds her. She tells him she’s doing all she can to muster numbers, but he’s adamant they cannot match the Greens without Daemon and his dragon. But our girl does NOT want to hear that. “May I be free for one hour from the constant refrain of Daemon, Daemon, Daemon!”
Jace is perturbed, but before he can probe further, Mysaria arrives to tell the Queen that her gift is sent, a hint at the next stage of their plan.
“What gift?” asks Jace, but Rhaenyra will only say let there be clouds over the Blackwater that night. He storms off, unhappy his mother is planning things without his knowledge. It’s an odd relationship they have - loyal and loving on the one hand, but at odds with each other in turn. Classic Targaryen monarch-heir vibes, I suppose.
The gift in question turns out to be dozens of boatloads of fresh fruit and vegetables, and who knows what other supplies. There’s a lovely shot of a peasant hunting for crabs or yabbies finding one lot of bounty, then realising there are more boats - all bearing the Blacks’ sigil - slowly emerging from the fog.
Now I assume Rhaenyra has all that food because of her control of the blockade. Certainly they’d be able to confiscate all manner of produce from ships coming from Essos. But it’s a delicate balance - you don’t want to weaken your own side.
But the impact of the gift is immediate and intense. We see Hugh - whose wife had missed out on buying scraps of food - discover the bounty had hit the city, and punch a dude out to get his hands on some cabbages.
The smallfolk are at once endeared to Queen Rhaenyra - “she thinks of us, even now!” - but also reverting to their most base, panicked instincts. When everyone is hungry, patience is lost.
All of this becomes a problem for Alicent, now restricted to “domestic duties” courtesy of Aemond. She’s in the High Sept with Helaena, saying a prayer for Aegon and all their lost souls, when their guards say it’s time to bug out.
Unfortunately, they’re not quick enough, and are set upon by hangry locals who purely see the Queens as symbols of their suffering. They start throwing food at them, shouting “Queen of Fishes” at Alicent, a reflection of fish being the only protein available in the city. This is the first decent food they’ve had in ages, and they’re throwing some of it at the ruling class. Things are serious.
An older man grabs Alicent’s wrist, but before she can scream “No!”, one of her guards has sliced through his forearm, which thumps to the ground. “Sheath your swords!” she yells at her guards. It’s to her credit that she’s trying to prevent more violence, but it’s all a bit late.
She and poor, frightened Helaena are pushed up against a wall, before guards manage to hustle them into the wheelhouse and drive off. “Run them down if you have to,” we hear a guard say. Meanwhile Alicent peers through the gaps in the carriage to see angry faces and hear cries of “Gods bless Queen Rhaenyra!”.
This really is not Alicent’s day.
Up in the Vale, Rhaena is still not happy about being shunted off Dragonstone, but is trying to make the best of it. She tells young Joffrey they all have to serve in their own way, even if it’s not what they’d choose for themselves.
But clearly what Rhaena would choose is about to get a whole lot more possible, for a stroll on the grounds near the Eyrie reveals a colossal area of burnt grass and sheep bones.
“You DO have a dragon in the Vale,” Rhaena later tells Lady Jeyne, whose glossy brown locks have no doubt been recently tamed by the Flexi Glide Detangling Brush Large.
Busted, Lady Jeyne admits there’s an unclaimed beast roaming the region, hence her uber-panic about a baby dragon not being enough protection for the castle. You can see Rhaena’s brain start to tick - given how Lord Corlys even reiterates this episode how she seems incapable of bonding with a dragon, surely she must be hatching a plan to try to master this wild new opportunity.
But will she be able to stay? Lady Jeyne has not only brought her some Snagless Blonde Hair Elastics (18 Pack), but news that the top bro in Pentos has agreed to take her and Rhaenyra’s two littlest blonde dudes for the foreseeable future. How can she wiggle her way out of that commitment and still make her dragon dream come true?
Meanwhile Corlys has ventured back to Driftmark to check the repair progress on his ship. Now
I know Dragonstone and Driftmark are relatively close island fortresses, but Corlys seems to move between them super quickly. I would have thought walking up those long snaking ramparts to the Dragonstone castle would discourage anyone from frequent trips. Maybe they should get a travelator installed, like the ones at the airport?
Perhaps spurred on by Rhaenys’ encouragement, Corlys appoints Alun to be first mate when they set out again. Alun is reluctant, but the Sea Snake insists. It’s more frustration for Alun’s brother Addam with the Extra D, who longs for Alun to be more enthusiastic about their father’s promotion.
But Alun, bless him, is worried about being accused of cronyism, and we realise the hair he’s been scraping off his head is platinum blonde. He inherited the Velaryon genetics in a way his brother Addam hasn’t, with his enviable black dreadlocks, and he’s been trying to keep it a secret. Addam thinks it’s pointless, and he should embrace what potential power his bloodline can bestow.
This is critical because of what’s about to happen to Addam. While trawling the beaches of Spicetown again, he sees Seasmoke suddenly appear, swooping over the shoreline in a way he’s done before. But this time, he makes a screeching turn and heads back to land, on a trajectory straight towards Addam.
Terrified, Addam runs for the sand dunes, then up into a rocky, lightly forested area, looking for some cover. The impression is very much that he’s being hunted; but we the audience are beginning to understand that it’s not so much a hunt, as a game of chasey.
Addam falls down a gully, and presses himself into a rock for shelter, scanning the skies above. A small bird seems to be the only thing in it, until WHOOSH, Seasmoke lands with a thud in front of him. The big scaly creature looks intensely at Addam, and he looks like someone who’s about to befoul themselves in the seconds before they’re set alight.
But nothing happens, and slowly Addam’s face turns from fear to confusion, and the hint of something else.
As mentioned before, dragons have many dog-like qualities, but when it comes to choosing their humans, this proves they are mostly cat.
Seasmoke basically behaved like my cat Hazel. Oh sure, she’ll lie on the tiles with her legs in the air, chonky tabby belly splayed out for the world to see. Oh sure, she’ll look adorably irresistible as she holds her head up and looks at you. Oh sure, you’ll move over there, and try to start a lil’ chonky belly rub. And then…. Bang! The trap is sprung. At best she’ll flip her body over and out from under your grasp, and bugger off back to her favourite spot by the dry biscuit tower. At worst she’s got you by the claws and using your hand as an emery board.
How can you not trust this face?
But if you’re very patient, and possibly have a treat, she might just let you give her head scritches, or follow you around hoping to play. Cats, like dragons, are choosy, and for that we must respect them.
Let’s now turn to Daemon, Daemon, Daemon.
It’s welcome back to Paddy Considine as Daemon’s Harrenhallucinations continue to spiral. Instead of young Rhaenyra, he’s now seeing his big brother back on the Iron Throne, replaying his interrogation of Daemon after Queen Aemma died in childbirth.
Once again, Daemon is banished for his behaviour, but this time seems to really see the emotional toll it took on Viserys. He doesn’t like it, so moves to leave, but the doors to his imaginary throne room have locked him in. There’s a ringing as Viserys removes his crown, sapping the energy from Daemon. He barely has enough spirit left to beg to be let out…
…when he’s let in by Sir Simon as Ser Simon.
Once again, Matt Smith delights with some more proper Shakespearean madness as he holds a knife to Ser Simon’s throat and demands if he’s the one disturbing his peace, or acting as an agent for the Hightowers, or even Rhaenyra herself. Poor Ser Simon - how does one cope with a houseguest with increasingly delusional behaviour when he’s also prone to murder?
Frustrated, and hopefully a tad embarrassed, Daemon heads out to take a ride on Caraxes - whether for a short time or permanently, it’s not clear. He stalks past Alys Rivers, who questions why he wasn’t even going to bid her goodbye.
Someone’s poisoned me, the food or wine, he unironically tells the woman who has been very suspiciously giving him potions. She has to be ground zero for all of this, and it’s hilarious that she tells him “You can’t see you have an anger that blinds you” when YUH-HUH lady, you’ve done something to make him blind to seeing the chicanery right in front of him.
Don’t get me wrong, I quite like the mystery of Ms Rivers, but it is funny Daemon hasn’t second guessed why she keeps turning up to probe his inner torments. “Don’t lecture me!” he yells, when he complains about Rhaenyra not even wanting the crown, and Alys suggests maybe the people who don’t want the burden are the best ones to bear it.
He never asks how she seems to know all this stuff about Viserys and Rhaenyra; instead asking for guidance on how to deal with the Riverlords. “Daemon Targaryen, asking for help?” she says. “Counsel,” he corrects her.
She stresses the importance of the Tullys in directing the actions of the Riverlords, but this just frustrates Daemon further. But then, she bad-assedly sticks her arm out to receive a brown speckled owl, which she then feeds a mouse.
Something about the inbuilt eroticism of the moment sparks the first of three major breakthroughs for Daemon.
“I need help, Alys,” he says. They were just joking about it, but now here he is, possibly for the first time in his life, actually asking someone else for help.
“Do nothing now,” she tells him. “In three days the winds will shift.”
The next time we see Daemon, he’s back in his dreams again, but this time, Viserys is crying over the body of the dead Queen Aemma. He collapses into Daemon’s arms, and this time, he catches him. “I’m sorry,” he tells the crying king. “You needed me. I’m here now.”
His subconscious just had the second breakthrough - empathy. His brother wasn’t that complicated a man; he just wanted a family. Sure, he went a bit gung-ho on the male heir thing, but Daemon was too caught up in his own bullshit to give Viserys what he needed - support. Rhaenyra had told Daemon that Viserys couldn’t trust him, and can we blame him? His anger over the “heir for a day” business was never about the mocking joke; it was about his brother not being there for him.
He’s woken by Ser Simon, who has sad news from Riverrun. Old Grover Tully has finally popped his clogs, leaving young Oscar as the new Lord Paramount. Daemon asks how he died, and Ser Simon reiterates that he had been ill. In fact, he’d even sent Harrenhal’s own healer Alys Rivers to apply her renowned skills, but there was nothing to be done. And here, Daemon achieves his third breakthrough - he cries.
Once again, I don’t recall ever seeing Daemon shed a tear before, not even at the deaths of his brother, Laena, his child or Lucerys.
I wonder if the tears he sheds now are for them, for all of his losses, for his foolishness at Harrenhal. I wonder if they’re from the stress he’s been under, or relief that things might finally go his way. And I wonder if they’re tears of fear for what Alys might possibly be: a force he cannot fight with brawns, or even brains.
Did Alys Rivers kill Grover Tully? And what will she have in store for Daemon next?
Back on Dragonstone, Magical Mysaria Tour visit Rhaenyra again to tell her the food was delivered; and even her banners got as far as the city gates.
But Rhaenyra is feeling bleak. “I cannot win this war,” she says. Mysaria reminds her she has the Velaryon fleet, but Rhae says none of it is enough.
Rhae’s description of her and Daemon’s relationship as two halves of a whole was so sweet, uncle-niece status and potential grooming behaviour aside. She wanted to be a man and carefree; he wanted to be loved by her Dad. She worries now he has turned against her.
Of everyone on the island, only Mysaria truly understands Daemon the way Rhaenyra does. “Nah, bro is going to ghost,” she declares. “Either way I’ve lost him,” Rhae replies. She has to act now without hope of his return to the fold, with only Syrax, Vermax and Moondancer, and the Velaryon fleet, and it’s not enough. Besides, how will she rule a kingdom when her own son doubts her?
“You have me,” Mysaria says simply.
Rhae smiles and thanks her, but Mysaria, sensing the moment of vulnerability, decides to answer a question Rhaenyra asked a few episodes ago, about the scar on her neck.
“It was my father,” she says, going on to describe how she was abused, impregnated, then attacked as a girl by a man who was supposed to protect her. Left for dead, she lived, and a lack of trust got her through the cold and cruel world.
But that has changed on getting to know Rhaenyra. “You have seen me as worthy, an equal even. Because of that, I will serve you. I believe you are meant to be Queen.”
With that, Rhaenyra rushes to embrace Mysaria, touched by her honesty, her suffering, and most of all, her belief. It is a balm Rhaenyra didn’t realise she needed, but makes sense to find in a woman with a shared experience of Daemon, who sees him without fear or infatuation, and finds Rhaenyra far more worthy.
They hold each other for a few moments, before something else stirs. Slowly, the two women’s heads nuzzle together, before Rhaenyra initiates a kiss. It’s slow and tender; it stops time. Two women with very different paths behind them, united in a fight for the road ahead. It feels not impossible to be marked with a kiss.
But then, who knows what might have happened had a guard not burst in?
Awkward “Nothing to see here” poses are adopted, and the guard lets them know Seasmoke has been seen over Spicetown, on Driftmark. That’s not unusual, says Rhaenyra, but the thing is… he has a rider now.
“The Greens?” Mysaria asks. “Who else?!” answers Rhaenyra.
The guard asks if she wants her Counsel, but Rhaenyra has other ideas. She makes for the dragon departure lounge and mounts Syrax. “Mother!” we hear Jacerys cry, but he’s too late. This is one thing Rhaenyra is not going to leave to her councillors, guards, or soldiers. She’ll meet this new rider, dragon face to dragon face, as only she can.
Yay! Best Moments
WAS THAT CHEESE’S LITTLE DOG WE SAW HUGH PAT BRIEFLY?!?!? I said last week I want him to adopt the dog to cheer up his daughter Sick for Plot Reasons, and if it happens, I will be so happy. Unfortunately, Hugh got distracted by the arrival of vegetables, and the dog ran away, but please please please let this happen!
Zing! Best Lines
When hallucination Viserys starts interrogating Daemon about the “heir for a day” remark, and Daemon whispers “You can’t still be angry about this”.
I also liked when Lord Whats-His-Face suggested getting the Greyjoys onside by proposing that Queen Dowager marry the Red Kraken. “Absolutely not,” Alicent declares. I have to agree, then she’d REALLY smell like fish.
Ew, gross
The burning of poor Steffon Darklyn seemed like a fairly generic “drop and roll” fiery death, until the dragon keeper who got caught up in Seasmoke’s strafe produced a knife and managed to CUT HIS OWN THROAT while already dying. I guess it ended things quicker, but how do have the presence of mind to do that? Kudos to you, Melty Man.
Also, one of Helaena’s pet crickets had stopped singing, and clearly that’s a premonition of something terrible happening, but who the hell knows at this point.
Also, also, even though he only appeared on screen for a few moments, I once again felt a slight almost sliver of pity for Ser Criston Cole. I really think he’s realising just how bad he done f***ed up. And that’s an ew, gross on me.
Boo, sucks
Look, I don’t like criticising the show, but the pub scene in which grifter Ulf grumbled into his gruel felt a bit… convenient. Last week we saw Mysaria’s maid smuggle herself into King’s Landing to deliver something. It turns out she went to Madame Sylvi’s brothel to get them to start spreading gossip about the Greens faster than they can spread their INAPPROPRIATE NATALIE BE NICE.
While it was cool to realise that the woman Aemond has been using as a sex therapist - or should that be a therapist for sex? - actually seems to be batting for the other team (Errr, interesting choice of phrase my brain tossed up there. Maybe Sylvi and Mysaria have more in common than we think!), it felt a bit too obvious and awkward. It felt, dare I say it, a bit pantomime. The other sights of smallfolk getting frustrated - Hugh’s wife Kat missing the food queue cut off, locals booing at seeing little baby lambs rolled through the streets for dragon meat - were more adept at showing not telling the rapid unravelling of the populace.
Also, this isn’t really a Boo, sucks, but I’m not sure where else to put it - but Where in the World is Otto Hightower?
I mean, I don’t know why you need AI generative art when you’ve got me with an Apple Pencil and some yanked pictures from the internet.
Aemond wants him back, but Alicent’s letters to Oldtown (where he wanted to go) and Highgarden (where she told him to go) yielded no information. Simple misdeliveries, or is the Great Hand got his fingers in some other pie?
Until next week!
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