This is a recap of the most recent episode of HBO’s House of the Dragon. It contains spoilers. That’s what a recap is.
Credits! No additions to the “Die, You!” Tapestry this week, surprisingly enough. Felt sure our gal Rhaenys’ sacrifice would merit some thread. At least a skein. Hunh.
A comparatively quiet episode this week, as Teams Green and Black retreat to their separate corners to lick their wounds, count their losses, and prepare to make a lot more of both. But it’s a busy episode, too, full of furious maneuverings and narrative setups as we watch several plans get set into motion.
Will these, too, turn out to be … dumb plans? As dumb or somehow even dumber than Operation: Blood and Cheese, Operation: Twinsies! or Operation: Two Queens Stand Before Me? Only time will tell!
Everyone is mourning Rhaenys the Badass, as is only meet and proper and fitting. Her husband Corlys, on Driftmark. Queen Rhaenyra, on Dragonstone. Me, here.
In King’s Landing, Team Black’s naval blockade has halted trade, and it’s evident: The produce in the market is moldy, and even the offerings at the pop-up Thin Gray Gruel stand are getting rationed. Everyone looks miserable, and they grow even moreso once they spot Criston Cole (he has that effect on people) who’s returning to the city towing the head of Rhaenys’ dragon Meleys behind him.
It’s meant as a gesture to inspire the crowd. “Your brave king Aegon has slain the fiery beast!,” cries a soldier, because crying the truth – “Yo Aemond straight-up flame-broiled his own brother like the dude was a Whopper patty, then had his dragon snap into Meleys’ neck like a Slim Jim!” – would sound less stirring.
It doesn’t work. The crowd looks horrified at the sight of the dragon, and rightly worried about Rhaenyra’s reprisals. One such worried onlooker is Hugh the Blacksmith, he of the sick kid, worried wife and bill for weapons manufacturing that the King still hasn’t paid.
No one seems to notice that other cart in Cole’s procession, which is carrying a rectangular box the approximate size and shape of a sniveling local monarch who has recently made the transition from original recipe to extra crispy.
For it is indeed he, Aegon the Brisket, who last week got roasted alive inside his armor, getting toted up to his bedchamber. The procession passes Helaena along the way, and the camera holds on her long enough for you to expect her to come out with some maddeningly vague yet moonily apt Helaenism – “Well-done, Your Grace,” say, or “See that’s why you don’t put metal in a microwave” – but she doesn’t.
The maesters set upon Aegon, gingerly attempting to remove the armor that has fused to his skin and set the bones that have fractured. (This body-horror sequence is a real Feast for Crow-nenbergs, am I right kids?) It’s too early to tell if the king will live, but Aemond strides in to gaze down at his handiwork. He mentions the blindingly obvious – namely, that Aegon’s current status as the piece of chicken that dropped into the briquettes means someone else needs to rule in his stead. As he says this, Aemond’s got a look on his face like a cat that just blowtorched a canary.
Alicent notices this, and goes to visit Cole, who’s cleaning his sword with a lemon and baking soda – don’t forget to like and subscribe for more of Criston Cole’s Lifehacks for Hacking (and Slaying). He informs her that he lost 900 men at Rook’s Rest, and that he left a small garrison behind to protect it, along with the wounded Sunfyre, King Aegon’s dragon, who “was long in the dying.” Put a pin in that.
Cole tells Alicent that Aegon fought valiantly, and here I give the show credit for trusting its actors enough to just have Olivia Cooke and Fabien Frankel exchange a quick look that efficiently establishes how very thoroughly neither one believes that. What she’s really asking about, of course, is Aemond. Cole pauses, but does not tell her about Aemond’s light treason and his two simultaneous attempted -cides (regi- and fratri-).
Patriarchy on parade
On Dragonstone, around the Painted (but not Actually Painted, Technically Glowing) Table, Rhaenyra’s Black Council are their usual pontificating selves, most especially sullen old Ser Alfred Broome. He professes loyalty to Rhaenyra even as he gets in a dig about the “fairer sex” not being equipped for times of war. Instead of putting his head on pike, Rhaenyra merely notes that Ser Alfred has never seen battle himself. A beacon of restraint, is our Rhae-Rhae.
She starts issuing orders, only to have them challenged by her fractious council. The camera pulls in slowly on her face as the lords bicker with each other; her frustration mounts. “What would you have me do?” she demands, and gets no answer.
Jacaerys tells Baela he’s headed off to Harrenhal to check in on Daemon – but then he thinks of another plan. In an interesting and entirely novel development for this show, it’s not altogether a dumb one. He remembers how the Stark army (such as it is) is marching south to support Rhaenyra, and they will need to cross the Riverlands. If they could pass through The Twins – the citadel of House Frey, which spans the Green Fork of the river called the Trident – then Rhaenyra wouldn’t be dependent on the army Daemon’s been attempting to build at Harrenhal.
Speaking of: Daemon, astride Caraxes, threatens Ser Amos Bracken and his knights, and is impressed when Bracken chooses to burn instead of joining Team Black and the Brackens’ hated enemies, the Blackwoods. In the end, Daemon spares them from Caraxes’ nasty morning breath, but suggests to Ser Willem Blackwood that the Blackwoods abandon their centuries of open warfare against the Brackens, and instead use … other means (they trade a lingering, conspiratorial, vaguely homoerotic look) to persuade them to fight for the Blacks. (I don’t need to tell you that Daemon is acting like he’s the King and Rhaenyra merely his consort, do I? We’ve all come to know Daemon well enough by now that we can take that as read, yes?)
High up in the mountains of the Vale, in the castle called The Eyrie, Lady Jeyne Arryn talks with Rhaenyra’s stepdaughter Rhaena, whom you’ll recall was sent away from Dragonstone in episode 3. She’s brought with her two small dragons, four dragon eggs, and a clutch of royal Team Black toddlers (Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon the Baeby).
Lady Arryn isn’t impressed with the tiny dragons, who can’t really protect her from Vhagar and the rest of Team Green’s beasts. She and Rhaena bond over their mutual feelings of helplessness. (For those keeping track at home, that’s three female characters frustrated by their lack of agency so far this episode – one more, and we got ourselves a quorum.)
Back on Dragonstone, in the library, Rhaenyra is venting her specific frustrations at Mysaria, who goes full Master of Whisperers: Her contacts in King’s Landing tell her that Cole’s parading a dragon head through the streets only increased the restiveness of an already tense and superstitious populace. It’s a state of affairs that, with a few well-deployed rumors, could easily spill over into revolt. (“Do you hear the people sing?” she seems to ask.)
There is more than one way to fight a war, she tells Rhaenyra, and promptly sends a surrogate (Elinda, one of Rhaenyra’s ladies-in-waiting) off to King’s Landing, on a secret – to us, anyway – mission.
Rhaenyra and Baela remember Rhaenys. Rhaenyra urges Baela to go to her grieving grandfather, Corlys Velaryon, and offer him the position of Hand of the Queen. She also tells Baela the story of how Rhaenys claimed Meleys – the dragon once ridden by Daemon’s mother Alyssa.
And speaking of Alyssa, and of riding:
Is this burning a maternal flame?
Daemon, at Harrenhal, has more spooky dreams. This time the dream in question isn’t just spooky but squicky – he dreams of having sex with Queen Alyssa, his late mother.
Look I’ve said before that while the words of House Targaryen are notionally “Fire and Blood,” in practice they should be something closer to “For richer, for poorer, in sickness, and incest.” By now most of us have become inured to all of that wacky family’s sundry swiving siblings. But this scene really puts the Oedipal to the metal.
As to the substance of the dream, well, it’s just Daemon’s subconscious telling him exactly what he’s always wanted to hear. “Daemon,” she says, “you were always the strong one. The finest swordsman. The fiercest dragonrider. Your brother had great love in his heart, but he lacked your constitution. Viserys was unsuited for the crown. But Daemon, you were made to wear it. If only you’d been born first … my favorite son.”
Let’s stipulate: Ick.
The thrust (sorry) of the dream itself is exactly in line with the one he had last week, when young Rhaenyra told him he should have been king, he’s like a god, he’s perfect, he’s beautiful, he looks like Linda Evangelista, etc.
So from this we can reasonably conclude that Daemon’s subconscious isn’t so much a dark abyss of roiling, unplumbed depths; it’s more like a tide pool – clear, shallow, and there’s a smell.
Daemon, apparently still suffering lingering effects of Alys Rivers’ goof-juice, suddenly finds himself at dinner with Ser Simon Strong and his grandsons.
Daemon is confident that Ser Willem Blackwood’s (meaningful pause, eyebrow waggle) efforts at (another meaningful pause, another eyebrow waggle) persuading House Bracken will bring them in line, and they’ll soon have to garrison a huge combined Blackwood/Bracken army at Harrenhal. He demands that local workers descend on the castle to give it a fresh lick of paint or two. Ser Simon notes that fixing Harrenhal will cost a great deal of money – Daemon waves his concerns away, and says he’s good for it. (He’s not good for it.)
Daemon and Ser Simon have a tense little exchange about Daemon’s title, and Ser Simon, bless him, stands his ground. “You’re the King … Consort,” he says. Daemon huffily huffs offscreen in the huff he’s kept waiting outside with the meter running.
In the Red Keep, around the Small Council table, we get a medical update on King Aegon. Outlook: Not So Good. He may never wake, says Grandmaester Orwyle.
Alicent proposes selecting a regent to serve in Aegon’s stead as he heals from love in the third degree. She suggests herself, but is promptly shot down in favor of Aemond, to the surprise of no one but herself. For this to happen, both Cole and Larys abandon her. Larys, bless his black and tiny heart, makes a point of calling on Cole to go on record choosing Aemond over Alicent.
Aemond crosses to the head of the Small Council table – the King’s seat. He begins issuing orders – tell the Lannister army to hurry on its way to Harrenhal, so they can attack Daemon while the Riverlords are in disarray. Close the city gates of King’s Landing. And have somebody cut down the bodies of those [redacted] ratcatchers.
Throughout this discussion, the camera zooms in on Alicent’s face as she fumes, not-so-silently (the sound mixer cranks up her breathing so it becomes like the crashing of some particularly angry waves against the shore). Checking the scoreboard: Yeah, that’s four female characters – pretty much all of them, on this show – prevented from effecting the change they wish to. Quorum: Unlocked!
Privately, Alicent needily tells Cole she feels abandoned, and he chauvinistically tells her he’s protecting her soft female self from having to rule during a war, so yep this relationship remains as healthy as ever, full of open communication and mutual respect.
In Hugh the Blacksmith’s modest hovel, his wife insists they need to leave the city, which isn’t gonna happen: The gates of King’s Landing are closed before Hugh and his family can get out. When a soldier announces it’s all by order of Aemond, and not King Aegon, the restless crowd gets downright panicky.
Land of the Frey, home of the knave
Cut to: The Twins, the home of House Frey. Jacaerys is sitting down to a meeting at the center of the bridge that spans the Green Fork. (Almost 200 years in the future, Lord Walder Frey will prefer to take meetings in his dank, dark throne hall, but the current Lord and Lady of The Crossing prefer to take their diplomacy al fresco.)
The Freys say they will agree to grant passage to the Stark army and fight for Team Black, in exchange for two things: 1. The promise that Team Black will protect them from Team Green’s dragons, and 2. That they will get possession of Harrenhal, once the war is over.
This makes the Freys seem a bit greedy – after all, the Twins is already the most strategically important citadel in the Seven Kingdoms. Now they want to take possession of its largest castle, too? Even knowing it’s a cursed pile of rubble, sinking into the swamp? On Game of Thrones, of course, the Freys were a famously grasping, venal lot – so it seems like this trait, and their hatred of House Tully, is coded into their genes.
At Harrenhal, Daemon is, deeply weirdly, throwing his back into the renovation – he’s chopping wood, choosing the backsplash tiles, mounting the shiplap and putting up the sign in the kitchen that reads “Kitchen.” He’s hilariously ill-suited to the work, something Alys Rivers notes as she attends to the blisters on his soft, pillowy baby hands. She tells him that she knows what House Blackwood is up to in the towns and castles ruled over by the Brackens – children and wives stolen from their homes, ransomed to force the Brackens to join Daemon’s army.
She does not approve. Daemon attempts to rationalize it, telling her he hopes she never meets the cruel Aemond One-Eye. (Hm? What’s that? You think that seems like a weird, out-of-the-blue thing for him to say that cannot possibly, in no way, hint at what’s to come? Here’s another pin; put it in that.) (Running out of pins, over here.)
Daemon’s spent most of his time at Harrenhal listening to lots of ghosts and dreams and now Alys herself is attempting to engage his conscience, and he seems a bit fed up. Which is probably why he comes out and admits to Alys that no, he’s not fighting on behalf of Rhaenyra, but for himself. Once he’s King, he’ll accept Rhaenyra as his consort – but it takes a man to rule, little lady.
Alys gets in one last sick burn – telling him it’s a pity he never knew his mother. She’s right about this – Alyssa died when Daemon was only 3. But then, how much of a burn is it, when he’s spent the last few nights dreaming of getting to know his mother … and in the biblical sense, to boot?
Ser Simon Strong approaches as Alys departs; I’ve rewound the worried, almost fearful look he throws at Alys several times. My guy Simon knows when to steer a wide berth around someone; smart man.
He reports that the Blackwoods have overwhelmed the Brackens, and Lord Amos Bracken has pledged to fight for Daemon. Daemon summons Ser Willem Blackwood to congratulate him and his House on their victory.
On Dragonstone, an angry, grieving Corlys is confronted by his granddaughter Baela, who’s having absolutely not a single iota of his mopey, poor-me nonsense. She reminds him that Rhaenys wasn’t some object that he’s lost, she was her own woman, a warrior, a Targaryen, who went out in blaze of glory the way she wanted to. This is a nice touch: In an episode full of women being talked down to and ignored, this scene shows a young woman calmly and confidently challenging patriarchal notions of ownership.
She gives him the Hand of the Queen pin from Rhaenyra, and tells him to accept it or don’t. He calls after her and offers to make her the heir of Driftmark. (Note: The current heir, as Rhaenys and Corlys discussed back in episode 3, is li’l Joffrey, the youngest of the three brown-haired kids Rhaenyra had with Laenor Velaryon (but actually Harwin Strong).
She replies, “I am blood and fire. Driftmark must pass to salt and sea.” Which is her badass way of embracing her Targaryen side over her Velaryon. She will marry Jacaerys, and will become Queen when he inherits the Iron Throne, so you can keep your salty little rock in the middle of bay, grampa, thank you very much.
Rhaenyra tells the grumpy, insubordinate Ser Alfred Broome to pack his knives and go, though she dresses it up by giving him a mission – go to Harrenhal and check in on Daemon. She’s figured out that Daemon’s probably gone rogue, and she’s sending Ser Alfred – who’s chafed against taking orders from a woman for as long as we’ve known him – to confirm it. What could go wrong?
At Harrenhal, Daemon is roused from his bed by the Riverlords. These seem to be representatives of various lesser Houses of the Riverlands, who are outraged by Daemon’s giving leave to House Blackwood to engage in wholesale slaughter while carrying his banner.
Daemon’s plan to raise an army in the Riverlands seems dead. “Dragon or no,” they tell him, “we shall not raise our banners for a tyrant.”
You’d think this would set him off, but the goof-juice is goofin’ on him hard: He sees his dead wife Laena taunting him about his role in the slaughter.
Roll call!
Quick shots of various characters contemplating their next moves:
At the closed outer gates of King’s Landing, Mysaria’s emissary Elinda convinces a guard to sneak her into the city, where she enters the house of someone she refers to as “an old friend.”
Corlys grieves on the Driftwood Throne. His hands close around the Hand pin.
Aemond stands at the foot of the Iron Throne. Helaena asks him if it was worth the price. (The look on Aemond’s face would seem to suggest that why yes, thank you, it very much indeed was, oh my yes, oh indeedy, deedy do.)
Alicent sits by Aegon’s bedside as he wheezes and glistens with various unguents.
In the Dragonstone library, Rhaenyra is reading up on Visenya Targaryen. I can’t go into who Visenya is here without introducing even more names that are maddeningly similar to the names of characters on the show. But basically: She was a warrior and dragonrider, the first to ride Vhagar, the beast that Aemond now rides, and the first to wield Dark Sister, the Valyrian steel blade now in Daemon’s possession. If you want more details, there’s a wiki for that.
Jacaerys enters and half-jokes that he hopes Visenya isn’t giving his mother any ideas. Rhaenyra snaps at this, because it’s only the latest example of a man telling her to stay home and stay safe instead of being who she is – a dragonrider. She explains this feeling of frustration to her son, because she knows he feels something similar.
She tells Jacaerys that Aemond will try to press his advantage and attack with Vhagar, and if he does, she will meet him on her dragon Caraxes. It’s the only way: Baela has her dragon, but Jacaerys’ dragon is too young, and Daemon is leagues away at Harrenhal.
“I need dragons,” she says, and Jacaerys starts putting a team together. There are two dragons on Dragonstone without riders: Vermithor (the old crotchety one we saw Daemon singing to, last season) and Silverwing. (Presumably there are others, too.)
Rhaenyra points to the histories that clearly state only dragonlords (read: those with the blood of Old Valyria, like Targaryens and Velaryons) can ride dragons. Jacaerys, smartly, points out that those histories were written by Valyrians as pro-Valyrian, and anti-pretty-much-everyone-else, propoganda. So maybe they could consult the familial records piled high around them, and find folks who may not carry the name, but do carry the blood?
“It’s a mad thought,” says Rhaenyra, and she’s right; it really is.
What it is very much not, however, is a dumb plan.
Parting Thoughts:
- Not a lot of changes in this episode – Daemon’s plan to build a Team Black army gets a setback, Aemond assumes control of Team Green. Otherwise, we’re just laying down track for future developments: The Freys will let the Stark army pass, when it shows up. Elinda will set in motion Mysaria’s plans to foster unrest. Hugh will get out of King’s Landing, or he won’t. And, most importantly, Team Black is about to launch that dragonrider recruitment drive I thought they’d launch this week. I’m not complaining – it’s good to take a breather, and let the characters absorb their losses. It’s precisely the kind of emotional beat-taking that the last few seasons of Game of Thrones abandoned in favor of ceaseless plot-churn.
- Can we please get some clarity on the fate of Sunfyre, King Aegon’s dragon? Last week we left that poor beautiful boy wheezing, broken, but alive. Criston Cole says he left Sunfyre behind to guard Rook’s Rest, as he “was long in the dying.” That suggests to me that Sunfyre was still alive when Cole left to return to King’s Landing. Later, Rhaenyra refers to Sunfyre as having been slain. But how would she know that for certain? Let’s just say whether Sunfrye is alive or dead has a bearing on the story, and leave it at that.
- Lots of folks online got very excited about some of the beasties that Daemon has run into, in the ruins of Harrenhal. Lots of bats. Three hounds. A goat. The reason for the excitement is their Easter-Eggishness for book readers, who recognize those animals as the sigils of some of the Houses that will, in the future, claim Harrenhal for their own: Bats (Houses Lothston and Whent), Three Hounds (House Clegane), Goat (House Hoat). Me, I’m not reading much into it; I think it’s just a showrunner wink. Now, next week, if Daemon starts seeing scorpions (Lorches) or lions (Lannisters) or a flayed man (Boltons) skulking around the castle, I’ll revisit my position.
- It’s unlikely we’ll get another scene where Olivia Cooke and Emma D’Arcy share the screen again (though Lord knows I’ve said that before), but this episode includes parallel moments of Alicent and Rhaenyra sitting at their respective council tables and being discounted, dismissed by the men around them. It’s an efficient way of reminding us that while they’ve gone their separate ways, they’re still connected by their circumstances.
- Ser Simon Strong: Still great!
- As we’ve discussed, the book this series is based on, Fire & Blood, is an in-universe reference book where a fictional author attempts to reconcile different historical accounts of the war. It’s always read as a work of pro-Green propaganda, and until very recently I figured the work the show was setting out to do was simply to flesh it out – adding nuance and roundedness to turn a dry account into compelling, character-based TV drama. It’s certainly doing that, yes. But it’s doing so in a way that so consistently sides with Team Black that I have to wonder if rich complexity is really the goal, or if it’s at heart an attempt to rescue Rhaenyra’s reputation from the fictional fantasy historians who’ve tarred her name.
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