Workers of the world unite; you have nothing to lose but your chains!
Also maybe your life, but never fear, it is in the service of the Great Proletariat Revolution!
Well, more like helping one lot of Bourgeoisie try to get one over on the other lot of Bourgeoisie, but still, seize the means of production!
By which we mean claim a dragon!
If you possibly can!
You probably won’t!
But hey, some of you did!
And YOU guys get to join the Bourgeoisie, I mean, the Great Proletariat Revolution!
We might still call your mongrels and unworthy and whatnot, but hey, you have a dragon!
As that famous Marx once said, wherever you go, whatever you do:
I might be getting my Marxes mixed up here.
it can be a real Hazard, and I Should’ve Known Better.
Philosophers, comedians and 30 million album-selling adult contemporary artists aside, I thought this episode played with the nexus of power and class quite elegantly. Who deserves power? And more importantly - when and why might you share it?
HotD: The Red Sowing
It’s a beautiful shoreline shot out of the gate as Syrax and Seasmoke catch up with each other via screeches while Rhaenyra sizes up Addam with an Extra D.
Rhaenyra is obviously suspicious of this young whipper-snapper-dragon-trapper, but he’s in no doubt of his own intentions: bend the knee, hard and fast.
Addam stresses to Rhae-Rhae that he did not in fact go stalking and chasing this Targaryen wonder beast, oh no. “He called ME,” he insists. “And if the Gods want to raise me up, who am I to say no?”
Rhaenyra’s hostility melts into gratitude, as she realises her cause may yet be salvageable. “Reckon you can get him to Dragonstone?” she asks, like a mechanic asking if your spacer tyre will hold for long enough to get your Nissan Micra to the workshop before CoB.
I was initially surprised that Rhaenyra didn’t turn up to her own Small Council meeting upon returning with Seasmoke and Addam.
But then I realised what a BOSS move it was. With the exception of Baela, who just seemed relieved her aunt/stepmother was safe, the men were left to fume about some lowborn thief nicking off with a dragon. Corlys had the grace to say they should wait for the Queen to give her account of her meeting with Addam, but then he’d probably already pinged from the description who the new dragonrider was.
But yes, Rhaenyra rejecting the fellas (including her own son, ouch) in order to get Magical Mysaria Tour’s take on this development was fantastic. Mysaria was able to calm her slightly edgy nerves, pointing out how incredible this turns of events is.
Rhaenyra can’t pick Addam’s parentage, but thinks there must be some way to find more like him in her history books and genealogies.
Mysaria’s laugh is brilliant. “Yeahhhh, how ‘bout looking in the bedsheets and woodpiles?” she chuckles as Rhaenyra slowly gets her point. Mysaria worked in brothels for years and saw dozens of suspiciously silver-haired babies get born as a byproduct of the trade.
“But lowborn people don’t have the same ancient fealty as the highborn!” Rhaenyra responds.
Oh sweetie. SWEETIE.
Mysaria points out that a common shipwright who just happened to bag a dragon immediately signed on to support her, when he absolutely could have made a hundred other decisions on how he was going to live his new best life.
She also points out the silvery-haired elephant in the room, which is that her own half-brothers Aegon and Aemond didn’t seem to have fealty to Rhaenyra as the true heir.
The world has changed, babygirl. Maybe class has nothing to do with actual, you know, class.
There’s a complicating factor for Rhaenyra, which is that she’s already been saddled with mean comments about her sons with Laenor *cough Harwin Strong*. Is it worth stirring that hornet’s nest again?
But you can see the cogs whirring as she speaks. Maybe the answer is to make like a 2010s-era Boss Bitch and “lean in” to the weakness. Like a drunk but wise soul once said, wear it like armour, then it can never be used to hurt you.
All right, fine, Rhaenyra says. “Let us raise an army of bastards.”
Meanwhile Corlys has gone to awkwardly congratulate Addam on his newfound jump in social status.
It’s a conversation of few words; Addam doesn’t seem to expect a huge amount from Corlys, and certainly wouldn’t be surprised by what he got. “Well done,” seems to be the warmest verbal embrace Corlys is able to muster. You can feel the closeness.
Corlys then moves on to instruct Alun that the Queen has a job that needs doing; and that he’s to get some honest and loyal fishermen to run small boats to King’s Landing, and deliver a message.
He then dishes that the whispers about Seasmoke getting a new rider are true, and that - gasp - it’s Addam.
He says the Velaryons do have the blood of Old Valyria, but they’re not the fire and blood kind. However, he hints that perhaps their mother was more Targaryen than he knew, hinting in his typically downplayed way that Alun might also be blessed with dragon-seducing powers.
But Alun is resolute. His brother always dreamed of bigger things, but he is of salt and sea. “I long for nothing else,” he declares. It’s a bit of relief for Corlys, who is clearly keen to have another salty seadog on his side in this whole business.
I need to take a moment to ask - have we settled on both Addam and Alun being Corlys’ bastard sons? Why did Addam tell Rhaenyra that his mother was a shipwright but his father was “no one of consequence”? Do they have different fathers, and their mother had Targaryen blood, as Corlys implied, making them both suitable for dragonriding via the maternal line, therefore making their fathers irrelevant?
I’m sure I could discover this info in five seconds with some simple internet sleuthing, but remember guys, I’m trying to be good and stay with developments in the TV show itself.
Was the title “The Red Sowing” referring to the colour of Elinda’s hoodie? Having received the instructional message from Mysaria to find Targaryen bastards, she wanders around King’s Landing in her blood-red cloak spreading the word.
For someone carrying out secretive spy ops in enemy territory, she’s picked quite a distinctive colour to wear around the green-soaked capital looking for errant blondies. There’s even a little moment when a Goldcloak tears a black-and-red pro-Rhaenyra parchment off a wall, showing the clampdown on protest signs in the city.
Wait a second - did Hugh and Kat’s daughter, Sick for Plot Reasons, actually die? The couple has a deep and meaningful about Hugh’s plan to answer the call to dragons, much to Kat’s chagrin.
Hugh says he can’t look after Kat, and he couldn’t keep their daughter alive. Past tense! So what, she died offscreen? I’m sure we saw her last episode. Still, it would make sense for her to die so she could fulfil her nominative determinism.
Hugh’s intriguing revelation is that he didn’t know his father NOT because he was some Targaryen princeling, but because his claim comes via his mother. It turns out Mumma Hugh was a sister to Viserys and Daemon’s father (who I believe was Baelon), making her a daughter to the wise old King Jaehaerys. But was she a bastard daughter herself OR was she legitimate? And if so, what saw her end up in a pleasure house?
Either way, Hugh admits he had been ashamed of his mother, and tried to make his own way in the world using his natural talents as a big burly blacksmith. But he’s been f***ed over one too many times. He’s worked and not been paid. There’s no food to buy, even if he had the money. He’s trapped in the city. And now his only child is dead.
The smallfolk tried a riot last episode and nothing really came of it. They haven’t yet learned the finer arts of grassroots political organisation. So while it’s not quite a case of “The working class can kiss my arse, I’ve got the foreman’s job at last”, trying his luck as a dragonrider is definitely the only way Hugh can see his way to social mobility, and through that, safety.
For her part, Kat doesn’t want to be a lady. All hail Comrade Kat! Except it’s not quite that revolutionary. She doesn’t want to be a widow, either. Sorry Kat, I feel your pain, but we need the plot to move along here, so you’re going to have to grant us Hugh for the moment.
I was once again confused at how Ulf and friends could speak so openly about the Targaryen recruitment drive in the tavern, and it doesn’t seem to alert any goldcloaks, or Greens informants or spies. There they are, hailing Ulf as the Dragon Lord with steins raised, and not a whit of protest or opprobrium.
As for Ulf, both in the tavern and later as he’s loaded onto one of Alun’s fishing boats, the prospect is glum. He’s the opposite of Hugh - rather than hiding his origins, he’s been freeloading off them for years. Well, bro, the time has come to step up. It’s time for your body to cash those big cheques your ego’s been writing.
Speaking of egos being checked, let’s take a detour to Harrenhal, where Daemon is finally about to have his ass handed to him - by a 14 year old boy.
I didn’t think we’d ever see a youthful ruler as forthright as Lyanna Mormont, but let us all stand and applaud for the kid who’s going to get all of us out of this mess: Lord Oscar Tully.
After his first appearance earlier this season, I thought he was going to a bit like William Pitt the Younger from Blackadder the Third - clever, but still a nauseating adolescent:
He may have a Grouch’s name, but by thunder he has a genius’ brain, matched with the true disaffected un-impressability of Gen Z.
He sees straight through Daemon in their initial meeting, saying the Dragon Prince couldn’t give a hoot about him before. At least Daemon is honest in his reply “For real, but your Grandad’s dead and therefore you matter now.”
Daemon insists he call the Riverlords to heel. There’s a problem though, Oscar tells Daemon. “They all hate you.”
Once again Daemon shows he’s indifferent to fear versus love, as long as he has loyalty. The Dragon Prince has many weaknesses, but this is possibly his worst. He is a blunt instrument, and has none of his brother’s patience and desire for common cause and negotiation.
It comes back to bite him sooner than he might think, as Sir Simon as Ser Simon hurries them to the conclave with the Riverlords in the godswood of Harrenhal.
Oscar lowers his status to near-deference to reflect his youth and inexperience before his bannermen. He tries to assuage their nerves by saying he can only try to live by his grandfather’s example. It’s a low bar; a good idea for a little chap whose legs are still building the muscle to jump it.
The lords are angry he is holding them to their oath to King Viserys and now Queen Rhaenyra, given Daemon’s sanctioning of the Blackwoods’ horrors against the Brackens. Daemon says they respect tradition, and so they must follow their liege lord.
Willem Blackwood is looking pretty smug himself; as far as he’s concerned he’s brought the Brackens - who’d pledged to the Greens - to heel.
But what becomes clear is Oscar is playing 17-dimensional chess while Daemon is farting around with tiddlywinks. He not only swiftly maneuvers his way into bonding his lords to him, he even gets a “Seize him!” moment as they grab Willem Blackwood.
He accepts Blackwood as his vassal. He had, after all, been acting on command of the King (Consort), who Oscar holds no love for, despite his rank.
But Blackwood didn’t have to be such a c*** about it, hurting innocents along the way. “You were vicious because you WANTED to be vicious”.
It’s then the young Tully reveals his master stroke. He calls on Daemon to pass judgement on Willem Blackwood for his crimes - and dispense justice. Oscar has deftly sidestepped Ned Stark’s old adage that “the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword” - instead, he’s taught Daemon a valuable lesson in “mess with teenagers at your peril”.
It means Oscar both accepts fealty to House Targaryen, but has shown his bannermen that loyalty doesn’t come for free. Daemon must make amends of his own. Also, it’s just bitchy as hell and I loved it.
Of course as we’ve said, Daemon is not the kind of man to worry too much about things like loyalty. He wants power, he needs an army, and his way to get that now is to knock the block off the Blackwood jock. So it takes him all of three seconds to realise he’s been more elegantly stitched up than the Mongolian Olympic uniforms.
He strides over to a prostrate Willem, unsheaths Dark Sister and whoosh! Makes those amends. Farewell, Willem Blackwood; we hardly knew ye.
As long as this storyline of Daemon at Harrenhal has sometimes been, it has actually been interesting to see the Riverlords fleshed out a bit more. We never really saw much of them in Game of Thrones, beyond the slightly ridiculous Edmure Tully. This assembly of Riverlords sees more of an alignment with the values of Brynden the Blackfish - men and women who are prepared to dig in and fight in the mud.
Daemon also has another visitation from Ghost Viserys; this time waiting for him in his chambers. His face is decaying, and the crown rests in his hands, not on his head. “It crushes everyone who wears it,” Viserys says sadly. “Do you still want it?”
“I’ll swap you for some Rogaine.”
The Rogue Prince certainly has a born-to-rule mentality; but even though we don’t see her in this episode, the influence of low-born Alys Rivers is having some effect on his subconscious at least.
Someone else who might have lost her head is Little Miss Alicent Hightower.
She is officially into the woods, and I’m not talking about that Stephen Sondheim musical that everyone seems to love except me.
Exactly, Meryl Streep, exactly.
No, Alicent has gone all 1980s Timotei commercial. She’s Kate Bush in the Wuthering Heights video clip. She’s been watching too many TikToks of Taylor Swift performing “Willow” at The Eras Tour.
Seriously, it’s all so tortured poet, I need somebody to edit all of Alicent’s scenes into a super cut with the pan pipes music from Picnic At Hanging Rock.
“Nothing I do matters,” she tells Grand Maester Orwyle, who’s patching up the cut on her arm she received protecting Helaena in the city riots.
She tells a Kingsguard she’s going solo into the Kingswood - well, solo plus him. Ser Rickon, for such is his name, is one of those actors whose face is so familiar, but I cannot place him. I suspect he’s been in a number of the British police procedurals I whack on my iPad to pass the time while doing an “everything” shower, but I’ll be Vera/Annika/Chick From Line of Duty if I can remember.
With her teal coal over a mint green frock, Alicent is giving off real witchy vibes as she glides through softly-swaying fields. This part of the Crownlands looks so much more lush than the area around King’s Landing is, even featuring a lake.
For a moment I thought Alicent was going to put stones in her pockets and do a Virginia Woolf on us, but as sad as she is, that would be a disappointingly anti-climactic way to go.
There’s definitely some symbolism in her floating in the water, arms outstretched Jesus-like, in a shroud-like white shift. Something something “baptism” something something “cleansing of sins” something something “I wish I had a pool noodle”.
The production team better watch out though - the humourless are jumping hard right now on anything that might take the piss out of a Christian concept:
“Please enjoy my blue twig and berries.”
It’s a pity she can’t twist her body into the circle-with-cross-thingy symbol of woman, because if she IS going to rebirth herself, it would be grand to see her bug out of King’s Landing and get herself to Dragonstone to join forces with Rhaenyra.
Imagine that?!
Alicent just accepts she’s made a series of terrible mistakes, and throws herself on Rhaenyra’s mercy to at least have some sort of decision-making ability restored to her. She knows her sons, she knows their advisers (particularly Mr Foot Fetish) and she can anticipate potential moves. It would be an awesome way to add some more female fury to the Dragonstone line-up.
Mind you, it would give Jace another reason to be cranky.
He’s already pissed about Magical Mysaria giving his Mum the idea about bastards on dragons - even though he was the one who’d had the initial idea about finding more Targaryens in the first place. But Ser Steffon was a proper gentleman, a Queensguard, a noble, etc, etc. These new people are -
“Courageous” his mother offers.
“Mongrels!” he screams back.
I actually like that the show went there, as nasty as it is. Jace is frustrated because he knows what this means for him. His dark hair has betrayed him as a Strong his whole life; only having a dragon was proof of his Targaryen-ness.
But in a world that doesn’t value maternal lines - his mother’s claim is disrespected; hell, Rhaenys was passed over because it would mean promoting a female line - having other Targaryens with dragons, particularly if they sport the traditional long blonde locks.
He was the biggest thing on the footy field.
Black hair or no, he’s currently the heir apparent. Rhaenyra’s plan could make him have to share his status. He could become just like all the other poor bastards.
To her credit, Rhaenyra is not trying to make him unhappy. “I mislike all of this,” she says almost tearfully, grasping Jace’s hands. Let’s face it, she’s probably still a little snobby herself. The difference is, she feels the weight of the war more than Jase. She feels more keenly the gap between her and Daemon, and her rapidly diminishing resources. She is also a woman, and knows she must act to counter the doubts some of her Council already have in her, consciously or not.
She has to share power, or risking losing all of it.
And so here they all come, by boat and then by foot, to the doors of Dragonstone: the collected spawn of a dozen or more Targaryen crotches.
The dragonkeepers aren’t happy about it. For a bunch of dudes in smelly rags, they sure are high and mighty about what kind of people are appropriate for their big pets.
Where do those dudes actually come from, anyway? They must have travelled with the Targaryens from Valyria before the Doom, to maintain the custom and ritual of dragoning. But they don’t speak the Common Tongue, only Valyrian. So do they just breed within themselves to produce more of the “dragonkeeper” class? And how can they keep dragons (mostly) at peace without being Targaryen themselves? Or even a little bit? Why can’t any of them be riders?
These and more questions possibly have answers, but just in the moment it made me wonder.
The point is, they’re annoyed at Rhaenyra, and say the encrispening of Ser Steffon proved it was blasphemy to try putting Andals on dragons. Sandals on dragons, sure. Andals on dragons, no. And to prove their point, they go on strike and storm out.
Nevertheless, she pushes on with the kind of briefing you get before playing paintball, only with far fewer khaki overalls and protective eye goggles.
Her speech to them starts humbly enough; stating her assumptions about what it meant to claim a dragon are now “ash in the wind”, and it could be your blood, your worth… or something else. Her oratory grows to “For those about to die we salute you” levels when she stresses that death is likely preferable for many of them considering privation, starvation and war are looming.
However it is their shared purpose to try, because two more dragons will put an end to the war - without bloodshed.
You’ve got to admire her chutzpah. She’s still keen on a diplomatic ending - albeit one in which she carries the bigger and more numerous stick.
Vermithor, she says, is the largest dragon in the world after Vhagar, and possibly fiercer. He didn’t get the nickname “Bronze Fury” for nothing. “May the Gods bless you,” she says, as she leads the group outside the temple to the dragon platform.
Now I thought it might be tricky to get old Vermi to show up, given the dragon keepers weren’t there to do their little sing-song. But all Rhae-Rhae has to do is call him, and the great beast hoves into view.
The cinematography and special effects work brilliantly here to show the sheer scale of Vermithor, swaying in the gloom, and Rhaenyra calming him through command, and then, through touch.
As she turns to face the cast of Dragonstone Idol, his face looms behind her in the dark, creating a perfect recreation of the marketing imagery for the show, so that was convenient.
“Who among you would be first?” she calls, and you’ve never seen a man so clearly painting his underpants brown as Ulf is in that moment.
It’s neither he nor Hugh who moves first, but a younger, blonde-haired chappie who - and I really don’t mean this meanly - has a bit of a dodgy eye thing going on.
I wasn’t quite sure if it was special effects make-up, or just the actor himself had a bit of a dodgy eye thing going on. Listen, there’s nothing wrong with having a bit of a dodgy eye thing going on, fact or fiction. I guess I just wondered if there was a backstory - like, is that why he went straight to the front? Because he’d been shunned all his life for his bit of a dodgy eye thing going on and thought f*** it, maybe this is what all the bullshit’s been for?
I am definitely over-thinking the chap with a dodgy eye thing going on.
It’s all moot anyway, because if it was a nice bit of “look, we hire all types!” casting, it’s slightly undercut by the fact that he is immediately flambéed by Big Vermi.
In fact the whole thing turns into a Fast and the Furious-style cookout faster than you can say “furious”.
Some people manage to flee, but more seem to be knocked off the platform like bowling pins, or even fried and snapped up whole like so much popcorn chicken.
It’s brutal and screamy and Rhaenyra can’t turn away. She owes these bastards that much - to witness their deaths at her command.
Ulf - knocked off the platform, but saved by some handy tree branches half way down - is able to steal a torch helpfully attached to the platform base and run off into the shadows while Vermithor is distracted.
Hugh, however, was with a group of people who took the stairs down into the volcano pit, and are one by one being flash-seared by Vermithor.
He takes refuge behind a rock with a younger girl, but Vermithor rounds on them and goes in for the chomp. As Hugh regains his wits, he sees the girl standing terrified in front of the great dragon, mouth opening in readiness to strike.
Remembering his many viewings of Jurassic Park, Hugh recreates the iconic Sam Neill/T-Rex moment using himself as the flare.
“Here! Here I am!” he waves, prompting a big Vermi-roar. “I’m ready,” he says, squaring up to the grumbling god.
Having survived for seconds more than he thought he ought to have, Hugh scrunches up his face and screams “Come onnnnnnnn!”. But nothing happens. Well, something has happened.
Game recognises game, motherf***ers.
At the top of the temple, Rhaenyra watches on as Vermithor, last ridden by King Jaehaerys the Conciliator, one of the greatest Targaryen kings, lowers his neck to a humble blacksmith.
Hugh reaches out his hand to touch Vermithor’s snout, a wry smile flickering across his face. The drumbeats of the Targaryen leitmotif sound as Rhaenyra looks down on a mission seemingly accomplished.
Watching Hugh in this moment, I experienced a lightning bolt of recognition that I cannot believe I hadn’t had yet.
Hugh is a big, bearded, top knotted, honorable, family man, who’s also kind of metal as hell. I mean he literally works with metals, but the other type suits too. So it hit me in this moment:
Stu would have LOVED Hugh.
Hugh would have been the Tormund Giantsbane of this show for Stu. He’d read the Fire & Blood history of course, so he would have known this development was coming, but still, he would have been so excited and delighted to see it happen. I mean, even their names rhyme. It’s too perfect.
I think we were all pretty well disposed towards Hugh, but this settles it. He is now our precious big baby boy and we must protect him at all costs. If one silver lock on his head is touched I WILL DEMAND VENGEANCE.
If Vermithor’s taming was fiery and brutal, justifying the Bronze Fury nickname, then Silverwing’s was almost ephemeral, highly comical, and even a little .. horny? Maybe that’s not the right term, but I got a vibe that Silverwing would have been very happy to hump Ulf’s leg.
And that’s despite the fact that on his mad panicked rush away from the danger, he trips and sticks his foot into a clutch of dragon eggs, broken shell and goo peeling away as he removes it.
A low rumble emerges from large pile of grey rock wedged up against the cliff face. Ulf turns slowly, his whole trousers chocolate now, and drops his torch in the face of a large, menacing grey beast…
…which then nudges backwards with her nose like a dog with a tennis ball.
Stumbling, Ulf braces for the end. But after a few seconds, he realises with surprise that he is not, in fact, dead. The mighty dragon has lowered her neck, chirruped a few times, and then fallen silent. It seems you can’t break a dragon without breaking a few, well, dragon eggs.
The vibe is “You’re funny. I like you. What do you want to play next?”
Ulf, in disbelief, laughs. And it seems he has an idea.
Back in King’s Landing, Aemond is meeting with his Increasingly Small Council. Ser Criston is marching on Harrenhal, Tyland Lannister is treating with the Triarchy, and Alicent has been sacked and gone cottagecore.
Lord Jasper Ironrod is giving the Regent an update on Lord Ormund Hightower, who’s facing allies of the House of I’m-Covered-In-BEES-bury in The Reach.
Crucially he does mention that Aemond’s younger brother Daeron is set to join the fight soon, because his dragon has started flying. This means we’re likely to meet them both next week, which is VERY INTERESTING. I feel like there’s been no talk of who has been cast as Daeron, so it feels like it could be a big fun surprise - but considering Daeron is supposed to be 16, I’m not sure there is a young actor so well known that could turn up and invoke an “OMG it’s him!” reaction.
Ironrod is trying to speak over the increasingly loud cries from outside the Keep walls. But eventually, shouts of “Dragon!” cannot be ignored, and Aemond bursts onto the balcony to see Silverwing in full flight over the capital.
Perhaps “in full flight” is not 100 per cent true; Ulf is on her back and he’s still getting used to the physics of the situation. But the dragon’s name doesn’t lie, she shines bright like a diamond as Ulf gradually starts cheering and whooping with delight at his new rig.
I wondered for a moment why on earth he would fly the beast so publicly; but of course, he likely wouldn’t have much of a choice.
Aemond does though, and he expertly flips himself cowboy-style onto a horse, and gallops out out to where Vhagar is chilling.
A few moments later, as Silverwing heads back to Dragonstone, Vhagar emerges from the clouds, her great bulky neck swinging as she opens her mouth to roar.
“No, Vhagar,” Aemond instructs, spying something in the distance that we can’t really see. He hits the brakes and banks hard right, saying “Flee, Vhagar” in High Valyrian. It’s obviously a command, but here it takes on a more significant meaning. Aemond has never fled from anything before, not on Vhagar’s back. But what he’s spotted has clearly spooked him enough to turn back and regroup.
And that sight is Rhaenyra elevating to Big Boss mode, with Syrax behind her, Vermithor on a hill, and Silverwing perched atop the castle.
So the answer to our initial question of why would you share power seems to be… so you can win.
But Rhaenyra has accomplished that in a way that the Greens would likely never counter: by removing the requirement of a prestigious birth as an obstacle to elevating smallfolk.
And that has put The Dragon Queen is in a class of her own.
Yay! Best Moments
Clearly some bad-ass, triumphant dragon work ended the episode, but I thought it worth remarking on the very funny hot potato exchange they had that laid out just how scheming Lord Larys is.
As Aemond sentences Aegon’s hype men turned Kingsguard to life at The Wall for instigating the riot, Lord Jasper Ironrod confesses to Larys that he’s heard rumours of Seasmoke having a new rider. Larys says it’s good intelligence, and he should tell Aemond. Jasper says well, wouldn’t you like to do that as you’re the big spooky spy guy? Larys is all where did you hear it from? And Jasper says well I heard from a friend who heard it from a friend who…
Jasper feels embarrassed just relaying the chain of relaying the rumour that he peters out. “Maybe that’s the kind of whisper left best on the wind? Larys suggest.
It’s an incredibly sneaky move, because it means Larys is stopping a potentially useful bit of information from getting to Aemond, whom he has now turned against. It means that Aemond is completely taken by surprise by Silverwing’s sortie over the city.
It also would explain why all the Targaryen bastards are so easily able to leave the city to go to Dragonstone. If that information had been posted by Aemond, the Goldcloaks would have rounded up everyone with even a glimmer of blonde highlights to stop them from sailing.
Zing! Best Lines
Matt Smith’s copious talents were on full display in the wonderful assembly of the Riverlords.
There’s one moment where Oscar is pwning his ass, he gives the most tremendous side-eye to Sir Simon as Ser Simon. It screams “Can you believe this guy?”, while Ser Simon’s response says “Yes. Yes I can.”
Oscar also lands some brilliant hits on Daemon.
Oscar: I see no reason to cast aside loyalty no matter how loathsome I may find her representative, the Prince.
Daemon: King. Mind your tongue, boy.
Oscar: (sidling up to Daemon) Will you have our army or not?
Daemon: …
Ew, gross
There’s some good parallels going on between Viserys’ slowly rotting face, and Aegon’s instantly burned and scarred one.
The Grand Maester is trying to help him walk, but it hurts and feels pointless and he just doesn’t want to do it. Girl, same.
Lord Larys enters in time to help pick Aegon up and get him back over to his bed, where he screams in pain and shows off his newest ear modification - the full removal. Larys tells him he will adjust to his new gait and has to keep trying to walk. He also instructs Orwyle to get him on his feet again in a few hours, despite the Grand Maester’s protests that the King needs rest.
Again, it’s more evidence Larys is planning something that he needs Aegon well for.
Boo, sucks
I am somewhat disappointed Ulf turned out to be seemingly the real deal, not the charming grifter I had him pegged as. I certainly hope he takes his new responsibilities seriously, and doesn’t just trade favours for beer money.
I’m a bit worried about Jacerys - he’s been a bit stompy, emo teenager this whole series, but his words to Rhaenyra this week were mean.
I really don’t want him to betray his mother simply because she’s making difficult choices.
Finally, Rhaena had something of a filler scene this week - instead of accompanying her little brother/nephews out of the Eyrie towards the ship for Pentos, she ducks away from the procession to pick up the trail of the wild dragon. Nothing but smoking sheep carcasses (coincidentally the name of my upcoming OnlyFans account), but it’s clearly got to lead to some sort of encounter next week.
Personally I find it hard to believe Rhaena could slip away so easily, but that’s plot lube for you.
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