HBO Max original drama House of the Dragon premiered Sunday August 20th, 2022.
#HouseoftheDragon was HBO’s biggest premiere of all time / has been renewed for a 2nd season.
rottentomatoes: 83%
metacritic: 69
imdb: 9.1
King Viserys I
Viserys Targaryen names his daughter Rhaenarys to be the first female king of Westeros.
“So, I said to him, ‘well, I believe you might be looking up the wrong end.’ Well, that sounds suspiciously like good news, Lord Corlys. And are we meant to weep for dead pirates? Rhaenyra, you’re late. King’s cupbearer must not be late. Leaves people wanting for cups. On dragonback? Do you think Daemon is distracted by his present tasks? And that his thoughts and energies are occupied? Then let us all consider you gold well-invested, Lord Beesbury. I would be delighted. Will the maesters’ name day prediction hold, Mellos? The tourney will take the better part of a week. Before the games are over my son will be born, and the whole realm will celebrate. Of course, no maester’s capable of rendering an opinion free of conditions, are they now? There’s a boy in the Queen’s belly. I know it. And my heir will soon put all of this damnable hand-wringing to rest himself.” — King Viserys I
“It’s a small cut from sitting the throne. It’s nothing. Fine. Fine.” — King Viserys I
“You spend more time in that bath than I do on the throne. It’s tepid. Don’t they know dragons prefer heat. Then he will be loved and cherished. Really? Dare I ask? Gods be good. This family already has its Visenya. Not since I named him Commander of the City Watch. I’m sure he will reemerge for the tourney. He could never stay away from the lists. This child is a boy, Aemma. I’m certain of it. I’ve never been more certain of anything. The dream. It was clearer than a memory. Our son was born wearing Aegon’s iron crown. And I heard the sound of thundering hooves, splintering shields, and ringing swords, and I placed our son upon the Iron Throne… as the bells of the Grand Sept tolled and all the dragons roared as one.” — King Viserys I
“Gods be good. Daemon. Your new ‘gold cloaks’ made quite the impression last night, didn’t they? I agree. I just hope you don’t have to maim half of my city to achieve this. Otto. This council has, at great expense, bettered the City Watch at your exacting standards. Enforce my laws, but understand… any further performances like last night’s will be answered. King’s Landing has been in decline since my grandmother passed. In the end… this new City Watch might be a good thing.” — King Viserys I
“Be welcome! I know many of you have traveled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise, you will not be disappointed. When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news… that I am happy to share: Queen Aemma has begun her labors! May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!” — King Viserys I
“No, a Cole, of the Stormlands. Tongues will not change the succession. Let them wag.” — King Viserys I
“What’s happening? Do something for her! Aemma. Aemma… I’m here. I’m here. I’m here. It’s all right. It’s all right. You’re going to be all right. You’re going to be all right. Mellos. If you would. Well, speak it. Seven Hells, Mellos. You can save the child?” — King Viserys I
“Yes. They’re going to bring the babe out now. I love you. No, it’s all right. No, it’s all right. They’re going to bring the babe out. It’s all right. It’s all right. Don’t be scared. Don’t be scared. They’re going to bring the babe out. It’s all right. They’re going to bring the babe out. Don’t be scared. It’s a boy? Baelon.” — King Viserys I
“Where’s Rhaenyra? What matter? An army you gave him, Otto. I named Daemon Master of Laws, but you said he was a tyrant. As Master of Coin, you said he was a spendthrift that would beggar the realm. Putting Daemon in command of the City Watch was your solution! Daemon is my brother. My blood. And he will have his place at my court. ‘Design?’ What are you saying? My brother would murder me, take my crown? Are you?! Please. Daemon has ambition, yes, but not for the throne. He lacks the patience for it. I will not be made to choose between my brother and my daughter. My wife and son are dead! I will not sit here and suffer crows that come to feast on their corpses!” — King Viserys I
“What is it, Alicent? That’s very kind, thank you. Yes… I am.” — King Viserys I
“Did you say it? You will address me as ‘Your Grace,’ or I will have my Kingsguard cut out your tongue. ‘The Heir for a Day.’ Did you say it? My family has just been destroyed. But instead of being by my side, or Rhaenyra’s, you chose to celebrate your own rise! Laughing with your whores and your lickspittles! You have no allies at court but me! I have only ever defended you! Yet everything I’ve given you, you’ve thrown back in my face. Why would I do that? Then why do you cut me so deeply? An unwavering and loyal Hand? Otto Hightower is a more honorable man than you could ever be. From what? I have decided to name a new heir. Not anymore. You are to return to Runestone and your lady wife at once, and you are to do so without quarrel by order of your King.” — King Viserys I
“Balerion was the last living creature to have seen Old Valyria before the Doom. It’s greatness and its flaws. When you look at the dragons, what do you see? Answer me. It’s important. What do you see? Tell me. The idea that we control the dragons… is an illusion. They’re a power man should never have trifled with. One that brought Valyria its doom. If we don’t mind our own histories, it will do the same to us. Targaryen must understand this to be King… or Queen. I’m sorry, Rhaenrya. I have wasted the years since you were born… waiting for a son. You are the very best of your mother. And I believe it, I know she did, that you could be a great ruling queen. Daemon was not made to wear the crown. But I believe that you were.” — King Viserys I
“This is no trivial gesture, Rhaenyra. A dragon’s saddle is one thing, but the Iron Throne is the most dangerous seat in the realm. There’s something that I need to tell you. It might be difficult for you to understand, but you must hear it. Our histories… they tell us that Aegon looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone, and saw a rich land ripe for the capture. But ambition alone is not what drove him to conquest. It was a dream. And just as Daenys foresaw the end of Valyria, Aegon foresaw the end of the world of men. ‘Tis to begin with a terrible winter gusting out of the distant north. Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on these winds. And whatever dwells within will destroy the world of the living. When this Great Winter comes, Rhaenyra… all of Westeros must stand against it. And if the world of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne. A king or queen, strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the dark. Aegon called his dream ‘The Song of Ice and Fire.’ This secret… it’s been passed from king to heir since Aegon’s time. Now you must promise to carry it… and protect it. Promise me this, Rhaenyra. Promise me.” — King Viserys I
“I, Viserys Targeryen, first of his name… King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, do hereby name… Rhaenyra Targaryen Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne.” — King Viserys I
Prince Daemon Targaryen
“Sitting. This could well be my chair one day. Court is so dreadfully boring. I heard your father was hosting a tournament in my honor. Mm… just as I said. Until your mother brings forth a son… you are all cursed with me. I bought you something. Do you know what it is? Turn around. Now… you and I both own a small piece of our ancestry.”
“When I took command of the Watch, you were stray mongrels… starving and undisciplined. Now… you’re a pack of hounds. You’re sated and honed for the hunt. My brother’s city has fallen into squalor. Crime of every breed has been allowed to thrive. No longer. Beginning tonight, King’s Landing will learn to fear the color gold.”
“Brother. Carry on. You were saying something about my impunity. Did they? The Watch was enforcing the crown’s laws. Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Strong? Nobles from every corner of the realm are right now descending upon King’s Landing for my brother’s tourney. Do you want them mugged, raped, murdered? You mightn’t know this unless you left the safety of the Red Keep, but much of King’s Landing is seen by the smallfolk as lawless and terrifying. Our city should be safe for all its people. Time will tell. Thank you for your support, Lord Corlys. I think my bronze bitch is happier for my absence. In the Vale, men are said to fuck sheep instead of women. I can assure you, the sheep are prettier. Well, I’d gladly give Lady Rhea to you, Lord Hightower, if you’re in want of a woman to warm your bed. Your own lady wife passed recently. Did she not? Perhaps you aren’t ready to move on just yet. You know how my brother makes sport of provoking you. Understood, Your Grace.”
“Ya! Thank you, Princess. Now, I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favor would all but assure it. Sword! Yield.”
“They’re waiting for you. Your father needs you more now than he ever has.”
“King and Council have long rued my position as next in line for the throne. But dream and pray as they all might, it seems I’m not so easily replaced. The gods give just as the gods take away. To the King’s son.”
“You cut the image of the conqueror, brother. I don’t know what you mean. We must all mourn in your own way, Your Grace. You’ve only ever tried to send me away. To the Vale, to the City Watch, anywhere but by your side. Ten years you’ve been king, and yet not once have you asked me to be your Hand! Because I’m your brother. And the blood of the dragon runs thick. I’ve only ever spoken the truth. I see Otto Hightower for what he is. A cunt. A second son who stands to inherit nothing he doesn’t seize for himself. He doesn’t protect you. I would. Yourself. You’re weak… Viserys. And that council of leeches knows it. They all prey on you for their own ends. I’m your heir. Your Grace.”
“Give me your hand.”
Princess Rhaenyra
“Try not to look so relieved, ser. That’s almost large enough to saddle two.”
“You don’t like me to go flying while you’re in any condition. Did you sleep? How long? Well, here you are, surrounded by attendants, all focused on the babe. Someone has to attend to you. I’d rather serve as a knight and ride to battle and glory. I was visiting Mother.”
“Does my father know he’s here? Good. It’s all right, ser. What do you think you’re doing, Uncle? Not if you’re executed for treason. You haven’t come to court in an age. Then why come back at all? The tournament is for his heir. His new heir. Then I shall hope for a brother. It’s Valyrian steel. Like Dark Sister. Beautiful.”
“Of course, I read it. A man. Lord Something. She’s funny when she’s furious. Like what? I only worry for my mother. I hope for my father that he gets a son. As long as I can recall, it’s all he’s wanted. I want to fly with you on dragonback, see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea, and eat only cake. I never jest about cake. I like this position. It’s quite comfortable. Where are you going? Princess Nymeria led her Rhoynar across the Narrow Sea on 10,000 ships to flee their Valyrian pursuers. She took Lord Mors Martell of Dorne to husband and burned her own fleet off Sunspear to show her people that they were finished running. So you remember. Fuck the Septa.”
“A mystery knight? I’ve never heard of House Cole. Lord Stokeworth’s daughter is promised to that young Tarly squire. Mm-hm. They’re to be married as soon as he wins his knighthood. What do you know about this Ser Criston Cole, Ser Harrold? Nicely done, Uncle. I wish you luck, Ser Criston.”
“I wonder if, during those few hours my brother lived, my father finally found happiness. I will never be a son. D– Dracarys.”
“Father. What? You haven’t spoken a word to me since mother’s funeral, and now you send your Kingsguard down– I suppose I see us. Everyone says Targaryens are closer to gods than to men, but they say that because of our dragons. Without them, we’re just like everyone else. Deamon is your heir.”
Otto Hightower
“The crown has heard your report, Lord Corlys, and takes it under advisement. Shall we discuss the Heir’s Tournament, Your Grace?”
“Can you say yet what it is? Whatever it is, it needs to be kept quiet.”
“It was an unprecedented roundup of criminals of every ilk. Your brother made a public show of it, meting out the summary judgments himself. I’m told they needed a two-horse cart to haul away the resulting dismemberments when it was done. The Prince cannot be allowed to act with this kind of unchecked impunity. You are to explain your doings with the City Watch. The City Watch is not a sword to be wielded at your whim. They’re an extension of the crown. Making a public spectacle of wanton brutality is hardly in line with our laws. If only the Prince would show the same devotion to his lady wife as he does his work, Your Grace. You’ve not been seen in the Vale or Runestone for quite some time. Lady Rhea is your wife, a good and honorable lady of the Vale. You made a vow before the Seven to honor your wife in marriage. My apologies, Your Grace.”
“You could have Baratheon’s tongue for that.”
“Your Grace. This is the last thing any of us wish to discuss at this dark hour, but I consider the matter urgent. That of your succession. These recent tragedies have left you without an obvious heir. Despite how difficult this time is, Your Grace, I feel it important the succession be firmly in place for the stability of the realm. No one here can know what Daemon would do were he king, but no one can doubt his ambition. Look at what he did with the gold cloaks. The City Watch is fiercely loyal to him. An army 2,000 strong. A half-measure, Your Grace. The truth is, Daemon should be far away from this court. The gods have yet to make a man who lacks the patience for absolute power, Your Grace. The King’s firstborn child. Daemon would be a second Maegor, or worse. He’s impulsive and violent. It is the duty of this council to protect the King and the realm from him. I’m sorry, Your Grace, but that is the truth as I see it, and I know that others here agree. Just moments ago, you announced your support for Daemon!”
“Send a raven to Oldtown. Straight away. My darling. How’s Rhaenyra? The Queen was well-loved by all. I found myself thinking of your own mother today. Very low. Which is why I sent for you. I thought you might go to him… offer him comfort. Stop that. He’ll be glad of a visitor. You might wear one of your mother’s dresses.”
“Before we begin, Your Grace, I have a report I feel compelled to share. Last night… Prince Daemon bought out one of the pleasure houses on the Street of Silk… to entertain officers of the City Watch and other friends of his. He toasted Prince Baelon. Styling him… ‘the heir for a day.’ I corroborated this report with three separate witnesses. The evening was, by all accounts a… celebration.”
Alicent Hightower
“Syrax is growing quickly. She’ll soon be as large as Caraxes. I believe I’m quite content as a spectator, thank you.”
“Your Grace.”
“Did you read it? When Princess Nymeria arrived in Dorne, who did she take to husband? What was his name? If you answer with ‘Lord Something,’ Septa Marlow will be furious. You’re always like this when you’re worried. Disagreeable. You’re worried your father is about to overshadow you with a son. You want him to have a son? I’m being serious. You aren’t worried about your position? Home. The hour has grown late. What are you doing? If-if the Septa sees this book, then– Rhaenyra!”
“Lord Massey’s son? Best get on with it. I heard that Lady Elinor is hiding a swollen belly beneath her dress. Good luck, my Prince. Gods. He’s Dornish.”
“She lost her mother. How is His Grace? In his chambers? I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“I thought I might come and look in on you, Your Grace. I brought a book. It’s a favorite of mine. I do know how passionate you are for the histories. When my mother died… people only ever spoke to me in riddles. All I wanted was for someone to say that they were sorry for what happened to me. I’m very sorry, Your Grace.”
Corlys Velaryon
“My lords. The growing alliance among the Free Cities has taken to styling itself ‘the Triarchy.’ They have massed on Bloodstone and are presently riding the Stepstones of its pirate infestation. A man called Craghas Drahar has styled himself the prince-admiral of this Triarchy. They call him ‘The Crabfeeder’ due to his inventive methods of punishing his enemies. No, Your Grace. I would urge that you not allow this Triarchy much latitude in the Stepstones, Your Grace. If those shipping lanes should fall, it will beggar our ports.”
“We installed Prince Daemon as commander to promote law and order. The criminal element should fear the City Watch. I wonder if this is how we should celebrate the birth of our future king. With wanton violence.”
“The King has an heir, Your Lord Hand. Shall we say his name? Daemon Targaryen. The realm? Or this council? You wouldn’t have to, Your Grace. There are others who would have a claim. Rhaenys was the only child of Jaeharys’ eldest son. She had a strong claim at the Great Council, and she already has a male heir.”
“I, Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Rides and Master of Driftmark, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”
Queen Aemma Arryn
“Ah… Rhaenyra. You know I don’t like you to go flying while I’m in this condition. Good morrow, Alicent. I slept. I don’t need mothering, Rhaenyra. You will lie in this bed soon enough, Rhaenrya. This discomfort is how we serve the realm. We have royal wombs, you and I. The childbed is our battlefield. We must learn to face it with a stiff lip. Now take a bath. You stink of dragon.”
“This is the only place I can find comfort these days. It’s as warm as the maesters will allow. Hm. After this miserable pregnancy… I wouldn’t be surprised if I hatched an actual dragon. Rhaenrya has already declared that she is to have a sister. She even named her. Visenya. She chose a dragon’s egg for the cradle that she said reminded her of Vhagar. Has there been any word from your dear brother? The tourney… to celebrate the firstborn son that we presently do not have. You do understand nothing will cause the babe to grow a cock if it does not already possess one? Born wearing a crown? Gods spare me… birth is unpleasant enough as it is. This is the last time, Viserys. I’ve lost one babe in the cradle, had two stillbirths, and two pregnancies ended well before their term. That’s five… in twice as many years. I know it is my duty to provide you an heir, and I’m sorry if I have failed you in that. I am. But I’ve mourned all the dead children I can.”
“No! Help me, please… I don’t wanna do this. Viserys. Mm. Ooh. What is happening? No… what is happening? Viserys, what– wh-what are you doing? How are they– Viserys, please. No, I’m scared. Not in– what is happening? Oh no. No! No! No! No, no, no! Viserys, no! Please! No, no, no!”
Lyman Beesbury
“Hey, Your Grace, at Prince Daemon’s urging, the crown has invested significant capital in the re-training and re-equipping of his City Watch. I thought you might urge your brother to fill his seat on the council and provide an assessment of his progress as commander of the Watch. Well, one would hope so, considering the associated costs. The cost of the tournament is not negligible. Perhaps we might delay until the child is in hand?”
“Dear me.”
“Five Dragons on Daemon.”
Grand Maester Mellos
“You must understand that these things are mere estimations, my King, but we have all been poring over the moon charts, and we feel that our forecast is as accurate as it can be. We have no way of predicting the sex of the child.”
“It has grown slightly, Your Grace. We’ve sent enquiries to the Citadel. They are searching the texts for similar cases. The King has been under heavy stresses preparing for the birth. Bad humors of the mind can adversely affect the body. Leech it again, maester. Cauterization would be a wise course of treatment, Your Grace. It will be painful–“
“The infant is in breech, Your Grace. All attempts to turn the babe have failed. We’ve given her as much milk of the poppy as we can without risking the child. Your Queen is a strong woman. She’s fighting with all her might, but it may not be enough. Your Grace. During a difficult birth, it sometimes becomes necessary for the father… to make an impossible choice. To sacrifice one… or to lose them both. There is a chance we van save the child. A technique is taught at the Citadel, which involves cutting directly into the womb to free the infant. But the resulting blood loss– we must either act now or leave it with the gods. I’m making the first incision.”
“Congratulations, Your Grace. You have a son. A new heir, Your Grace. Had you and the Queen chosen a name?”
“If Daemon were to remain the uncontested heir, it could destabilize the realm. Let him keep his place at court, Your Grace, but if the gods should visit some further tragedy on you, either by design or by accident– under such circumstances, it would not be an aberration for the King to name a successor. That is only by tradition and precedent, Lord Strong.”
“My Lady.”
“Corlys of House Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark.”
Lyonel Strong
“Ugh, most of the lords and knights are certainly on their way to King’s Landing already. To turn them back now–“
“My Prince, I don’t think–“
“The succession is already set… by precedent and by law. Well, who else would have a claim? Rhaenyra? A girl? No queen has ever sat the Iron Throne. If order and stability so concerns this council, then perhaps we shouldn’t break 100 years of it by naming a girl heir. Such as your wife, Lord Corlys? ‘The Queen who never was?’ If we cannot agree on an heir, then how can we expect–“
Ser Harrold Westerling
“Welcome back, Princess. I trust your ride was pleasant. I am relieved. Every time that golden beast brings you back unspoiled, it saved my head from a spike.”
“He passed through the Red Keep’s gates at first light. No. Gods be hood.”
“I’m told Ser Criston is common-born, son of Lord Dondarrion’s steward. But other than that, and the fact that he’s just unhorsed both of the Baratheon lads, I really couldn’t say.”
Mysaria
“What troubles you, my Prince? I could brin in another. Perhaps a maiden. I have several. I could even arrange one with silver hair. You are Daemon Targaryen. Rider of Caraxes. Wielder of Dark Sister. The King cannot replace you.”
“The King’s sole heir once again. Might we drink to our future?”
Hobert Hightower
“I, Lord Hobert Hightower, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel, and voice of Oldtown, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them in good faight and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”
Rickon Stark
“I, Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell…”
Silk Street Patron
“Quiet! Your Prince will speak! Silence!”
Lord Boremund Baratheon
“Princess Rhaenys Targaryen! I would humbly ask for the favor of ‘The Queen Who Never Was.’ I would gladly take it if I thought I needed it.”
“I, Boremund Baratheon… promise to be faithful to King Viserys…”
Princess Rhaenys Targaryen
“Good fortune to you, sir. And the day grows ugly. Hm. It’s been 70 years since King Maegor’s end. These knights are as green as summer grass. None have known real war. Their lords sent them to the tourney field with fists full of steel and balls full of seed, and we expect them to act with honor and grace. It’s a marvel that war didn’t break out at first blood.”
Master of Revels
“Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent! For his first challenge, Prince Daemon Targaryen chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, eldest son of the Hand of the King.”
“Ser Criston Cole will now tilt against Ser Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the City! Prince Daemon Targaryen wishes to continue in a contest of arms!”
Ser Criston Cole
“Yield. I was hoping to ask for the Princess’s favor. Princess.”
Captain Randyll Varret
“Commander on the floor! Thief! Murderer!”
Red Keep Guard
“The Lady Alicent Hightower, Your Grace.”
City Watchman
“Get up!”
City Watchman 2
“Raper!”
King’s Landing
“No! No! No! No! No!”
Maester
“It’s a wound that refuses to heal, Grand Maester. Might I suggest cauterization?”
Dragon Trainers
“Dohaeras, Syrax! Umbas. Rybas! Dohaeras. Naejot!”
Narrator
“As the first century of the Targaryen dynasty came to a close, the health of the Old King, Jaehaerys, was failing. In those days, House Targaryen stood at the height of its strength with 10 adult dragons under its yoke. No power in the world could stand against it. King Jaehaerys reigned over nearly 60 years of peace and prosperity. But tragedy had claimed both his sons, leaving his succession in doubt. So, in the year 101, the Old King called a Great Council to choose an heir. Over a thousand lords made the journey to Harrenhal. Fourteen succession claims were heard but only two were truly considered: Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, the King’s eldest descendant, and her younger cousin , Prince Viserys Targaryen, the King’s eldest male descendant. Rhaenys, a woman, would not inherit the Iron Throne. The lords instead chose Viserys… my father. Jaehaerys called the Great Council to prevent a war being fought over his succession. For he knew the cold truth. The only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon… was itself.”
Jaehaerys Targaryen
“It is declared by all lords paramount and lords vassal of the Seven Kingdoms… that Prince Viserys Targaryen be made Prince of Dragonstone.”
