01x05 - We Light the Way

[bunniefuu]

(epic theme playing)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(birds chirping)

(cawing)

{an}(horse neighs)

- Good morrow, Lady Rhea.
- Cousin.

What's today's quarry?
Rabbit?

- Deer.
- Oh. Fine challenge.

Care for some company?

I'd rather ride alone.

Good fortune to you.

(bird squawking)

(tense music playing)

(horse snorts)

Husband.

What brings you to the Vale?

Or have you at last come to consummate
our marriage?

The Vale's sheep might be willing,

even if I'm not.

Our sheep are prettier, after all.

Or perhaps your brother has at
last had his fill of your company.

Cast you aside
in favor of a little girl.

(horse snorting)

What will you do now?

Will you strike the child down?

Or?

♪ ♪

- (horse whinnies)
- (Rhea grunts)

♪ ♪

(Rhea winces, whimpers)

I knew you couldn't finish.

Craven!

♪ ♪

(Rhea gasps)

(indistinct shouting)

(waves crashing)

(gagging)

{an}(retching)

(King Viserys groans)

Thank you.

♪ ♪

(rain falling)

(thunder rumbling)

A moment.

I do not wish to see you go.

Such is the King's decision.

A decision I most bitterly regret.

And yet, you made it possible.

You chose Rhaenyra.

She swore her innocence,

and I believed her.

You wanted to believe her,
as did her father.

Your informant was wrong.

An honest mistake, perhaps,

- but I did not foresee this!
- You should have.

If you had not been so relentless
in advancing Aegon as heir!

(thunder rumbling)

Listen to me, daughter.

The King will die.

It may be months or years,

but he'll not live to be an old man.

And if Rhaenyra succeeds him,

w*r will follow, do you understand?

The realm will not accept her.

And to secure her claim,

she'll have to put
your children to the sword.

She'll have no choice.

(crying)

You know it.

You're no fool,
and yet you choose not to see it.

The time is coming, Alicent.

Either you prepare Aegon to rule,

or you cleave to Rhaenyra
and pray for her mercy.

(sorrowful music playing)

(crying)

(thundering)

♪ ♪

(intense music playing)

♪ ♪

(swords clanking)

Where is Lord Corlys?
He should be here to receive the King.

(door opens)

(sighs)

Welcome to High Tide, Your Grace.

What is the meaning
of this, Lady Laena?

Is this how House Velaryon
greets its King?

My father has but just
returned from his long journey

and he has hastened to the Hall of Nine

to await Your Grace's arrival.

Let's just get on with it.

(pensive music playing)

Larys Strong:
An outsider...

among the natives.

Lord Larys.

Malvales.

A rare bloom.

Indigenous to Braavos.

By all rights,

it shouldn't be thriving here.

Nature...
such mystery.

- The weather has been lovely.
- Larys: Indeed.

And yet it is a dark day for the realm.

Your father was a good man.

As is yours who took his place.

Yet still,

the manner of your
father's departure...

it feels something of an injustice.

(thundering)

What do you know of the
matter of his leaving?

When one is never invited to speak,

one learns instead
to, um... observe.

You're perhaps in need of an ally?

I'm the Queen.

- I have no shortage of allies.
- Naturally.

Princess Rhaenyra, for example.

State your purpose, my lord.

Uh...

I did wonder if she
could be relied upon

now that she is... unwell.

Unwell?
I haven't heard anything.

Begging your pardon,
Your Grace, I may be mistaken.

It's just that on the very same
night your father was dismissed,

the Grand Maester delivered a
tea to the Princess's chambers.

- A tea?
- Yes.

That the Grand Maester himself brought?

At the direction of the King,
as I understand it.

I do hope she's not unwell.

Rhaenyra sailed
with the King to Driftmark

- yesterday at daybreak.
- Oh, what good news.

I must've been in error.

Oh, a relief.

See, I thought
for Mellos himself, well...

her condition must be
something very serious.

What happiness it is
to have been wrong.

{an}♪ ♪

(tense music playing)

I'm sorry.

Come, cousin.

Let us discover what might
be had for breakfast.

♪ ♪

(King Viserys coughs)

Your Grace.

(King Viserys coughs)

Rise, Lord Corlys.
(coughs)

Be welcome.

- May I offer you a chair?
- (door opens)

Cousin!

Princess.

- (winces)
- (door closes)

- Are you well?
- Very.

Corlys Velaryon:
I congratulate you, Lord Lyonel.

I can think of no man more suited
to be the Hand of the King.

That is very kind of you
to say, Lord Corlys.

His Grace has honored me with the post.

Pity about Ser Otto.

Despite spending most of my days
amidst the grandeur of the Red Keep,

{an}the halls of High Tide
never fail to impress.

{an}Corlys:
You flatter me, Your Grace.

Though I do wish we could meet
under happier pretenses.

- How so?
- Daemon's wife,

the Lady Rhea Royce, has passed.

Rhaenys:
A hunting mishap.

She was thrown from her horse.

Her neck and skull
both crushed in the fall.

Corlys:
A most surprising end.

Lady Rhea's skill as both

rider and hunter were well-known.

- Rhaenys: The gods are cruel.
- King Viserys: Indeed.

Lady Rhea was a fine woman

and a, uh...
good wife to my brother.

Sad thing that she and Daemon
have no heirs to succeed her.

She stood to inherit Runestone.

Mayhaps we can turn
toward happier pursuits.

- No, thank you.
- What did you have in mind, Your Grace?

(coughs)

I wish to propose a marriage
between your son, Ser Laenor...

and my daughter and heir,
the Princess Rhaenyra.

It's long past time our houses
were united in blood.

The last pillars of Old Valyria.

You honor both me
and my house, Your Grace.

There are certain details
I would wish clarified

before the Princess Rhaenys
and I could accept this most...

generous proposal.

What details?

We would like to know how the succession...
will be handled.

Rhaenyra is my heir.

Upon my death, my throne and
my titles will pass to her.

She and Ser Laenor's firstborn child,

regardless of gender,

will inherit the Iron Throne from her.

Can I presume that,

in keeping with Westerosi tradition...

their children would take
their father's name?

That they would be born Velaryons?

Surely, Lord Corlys,

you are not proposing the Targaryen
dynasty end with my daughter

simply because she is a woman?

(chuckles)

I only seek clarity, Your Grace.

(coughing)

{an}- Might I have a chair brought in for you?
- I do not-- (coughs)

{an}No. I do not require a chair.

Upon their birth,

Ser Laenor and Rhaenyra's children

shall take their
father's name, Velaryon...

in keeping with our traditions.

However,

at such time when their firstborn
ascends the Iron Throne,

he or she will do so
bearing the name Targaryen.

Dragons will rule the Seven Kingdoms

for the next hundred years,

just as they did the last.

♪ ♪

This is an equitable compromise.

King Viserys: Good.

Now, if there's nothing further.

(waves crashing)

Rhaenyra: In truth,
if it had to be someone,

I'm glad it is you.

I know this union is not
what you would choose.

I hold nothing against you, cousin.

No, I--

{an}rather...

{an}Dare I say it is a matter of taste?

I prefer roast duck to goose.

I cannot say why.

It's, it's not for a lack of trying.

There are those who
like goose very well.

I find it a bit greasy for my taste.

I know that whatever agreement
being struck up there

will not change your appetites,

nor will it change mine.

And what do you propose?

That we perform our duty to
our fathers and to the realm

and when it's done...

each of us dines as we see fit.

♪ ♪

{an}Rhaenys:
Viserys has taken to bed

{an}while his ship is readied.

Perhaps I...

overextended myself?

Pushed him too close to the edge?

My cousin chose to sail
into this tempest, husband.

It was undignified of the King
to drag himself here

and beg for Laenor's hand.

Where is Laenor?

{an}- He and Rhaenyra are walking the coast.
- Good.

Do they seem... familiar?

They grew up together.

Familiarity is not at issue.

Oh, I'm sure Laenor
was already taken with her.

She's grown quite comely
these last few years.

You know his true nature.

He's still young.

He will outgrow it.

There is no pleasure
in the world like...

- bedding a woman.
- We are placing our son in danger.

The lords of the realm
bent the knee to Rhaenyra

and swore obeisance to her.

That was before there
was a true-born prince

named Aegon Targaryen.

Rhaenyra's succession
will be challenged.

Knives will come out

for her, her husband,
and for their heirs.

Our house controls the realm's navy

and half its dragons.

Anyone fool enough to
challenge Rhaenyra's claim

- will be crushed.
- To what end, Corlys? Wealth? Power?

- Pride?
- Justice.

By all rights,

you should be Queen
of the Seven Kingdoms.

You were robbed of the crown by--

I never wore the crown

because the realm would not have it so.

And I would remedy that...

small-minded error
by any means necessar--

I myself have put the business
behind me, Corlys.

(seabirds calling)

Ser Joffrey Lonmouth: I've always feared
the day you'd have to marry a woman.

And now it comes.

Your betrothed gives you leave

of her own free will
to continue partaking of.

Was I the duck or the goose?

I've come to meet my fate
and you make a jape of it?

Look, Rhaenyra will be
Queen of the Seven Kingdoms

and you will be her king consort.

(laughs)
Think of the tournament,

the feast, the battles at sea.

- Will you wear your crown today,
Your Grace? - (chuckles)

You're a fool.

(grunting)

- You will need a sworn protector.
- Mm-hm.

(pensive music playing)

Well, this is better than
we could've hoped for.

She has a paramour of her own.

I wonder who it is.

♪ ♪

Did sleep flee you as well
this morning?

I needed to see you, Princess.

I confess I had a similar desire.

You have confided in me now and then

over the years of our acquaintance.

I feel, forgive me,

that I, I know you... a bit.

You know more than a bit.

I've heard you say so many times

how you loathe the lot
of your position,

that you are to be married
off at your father's whim

with no thought given to the
yearning of your own heart,

and... now the day comes.

Ser Laenor is a good
and, and decent man,

but you, you did not choose him.

- He was chosen for you.
- That's true.

If there were another path...

one that led to freedom...

would you tread it?

Rhaenyra, before I came here,

I was a knight in the Stormlands.

I have deep knowledge
of the port at Sunspear

where I've seen the ships
of Essos setting sail

with their hulls full
of oranges and cinnamon

and I've always wished
to see where they went.

Are you asking for leave?

I'm asking you to come with me...

away from all of this.

From the burdens and
indignities of your inheritance.

Let us leave it all behind
and see the world together...

where we'll be nameless,

and free...

free to go where we like,
to love as we like.

In Essos...

you could marry me.

A marriage for love,

not for the crown.

I am the crown, Ser Criston.

Or I will be.

I may chafe at my duties,

but do you think I would choose infamy

in exchange for a bushel of
oranges or a ship to Asshai?

It is my duty

to marry a nobleman from a great house

and Ser Laenor will
make a fine husband.

But my, um...

my marriage...

does not have to be the end.

Ser Criston,
Laenor and I have an understanding.

I've granted him leave
to pursue his own interests...

and in turn, he's granted me the same.

So you want me to be your whore?

I want us to continue as we began,

with you as my sworn
protector, my white knight.

I took an oath.

As a, as a knight of,
of your Kingsguard.

An oath of chastity.
I've broken it.

- I won't tell anyone--
- I-I've, I've soiled

my, my, wh-- my white cloak.

And it's the only thing
I have to my f*cking name!

I, I thought if we were married,
I might be able to restore it.

The Iron Throne looms larger than me,

larger than anyone in my family.

Aegon the Conqueror
united the Seven Kingdoms

and put them on a path--

Ser Criston.

♪ ♪

(breathing heavily)

- Harrold Westerling: Fetch the Maester!
- Lyonel Strong: Get back.

Harrold:
Get Mellos! Get back!

Grand Maester Mellos:
Prepare the crucible.

We'll need leeches.

Ser Criston...

you've been summoned.

I left the Princess just minutes ago.

Not the Princess, ser.

The Queen.

(baby crying)

(door opens)

Ser Criston, Your Grace.

Queen Alicent:
That will be all.

I fear I must question you on a,

on a delicate matter, Ser Criston.

I am your servant as always, my Queen.

It concerns our dear Princess Rhaenyra.

Please.

You are her sworn protector
and rightly loyal to her.

I am.

The night of Daemon's return...

there's been a rumor...

or rather, my father
received an accounting of...

a lapse of morals

that may have occurred between--

It is, of course, unthinkable for me

to question the virtue of the Princess,

whom I hold in highest regard,

but, I-I, I did, however, wonder if...

I'm not unaware that
in flush of youth...

there may be errors made...

(sighs)
breaches in resolve,

- breaches, or rather lapses--
- It happened, Your Grace.

The sin you allude to.

I have committed it.

At her instigation,
it is true, but that should--

It is no excuse.

My oath has been broken.

I have dishonored myself.

I deserve no consideration.

But if...

as a clement Queen,

you are inclined to pity...

I would ask only this...

that rather than gelding me

and having me tortured...

you would sentence me
mercifully to death.

♪ ♪

Thank you for your honesty,
Ser Criston.

You may go.

(tense music playing)

(door opens)

(door closes)

♪ ♪

Mellos: Rest now, Your Grace.
I will bring the leeches.

Maester Orwyle:
If I may, Grand Maester,

I took the liberty
of preparing a fresh set

of herbal poultices
that might be more... effective.

Mellos:
That will not be necessary, Orwyle.

The leechings have always
brought His Grace relief.

(door opens)

(softly)
To help him sleep.

(bottle pops open)

Where's the Queen?

- (door closes)
- I was given to understand

that she is otherwise
occupied, Your Grace.

(sighing)

Will I be remembered
as a good king, Lyonel?

Your Grace?

What will they say of me
when the histories are written?

I have neither fought nor conquered,

nor suffered any great defeat.

Some might call that good fortune.

It hardly makes a good song, does it?

To be sung at feasts
in a hundred years...

five hundred.

Lyonel: You have carried
King Jaehaerys's legacy.

- And kept the realm strong.
- (King Viserys sighs)

Is it not better to live in peace

than to have songs
sung after you are dead?

Perhaps.

But there is a part of me
wishes I'd been tested.

I often think that in the crucible,

I may have been forged a different man.

Many that are tested,

only wish to have been spared it.

(sighs)

Another lord might assure me
that I would rise like

Aegon the Conqueror given the chance.

- Your Grace, that is--
- You're right.

You're right... as always.

It is perhaps best not to know.

(ethereal music playing)

(dragons screeching)

(intense music playing)

(screeching)

{an}Harrold:
It is with great pleasure

{an}that His Grace, King Viserys,
announces the start

of the royal wedding celebrations.

House Lannister with their lord,
Jason Lannister.

Lord Paramount of the West,

and Master of Casterly Rock.

House Hightower

with their lord, Hobert Hightower.

Beacon of the South,
Defender of the Citadel,

the Voice of Oldtown...

(guests chattering)

(cheery music playing)

Congratulations, Your Grace.

You have made a fine match
for the Princess.

Thank you, Lord Jason.

I could think of no better
man than Ser Laenor.

(chuckles) Well... if this
is only the welcome feast,

I admit, I cannot imagine what you
might have planned for the wedding.

Well, my daughter is the future queen.

I wanted this to be
a wedding for the histories.

Where is the Queen?

I had hoped to pay my respects.

I understand the Queen is still
readying herself for the celebrations.

This is why men wage w*r...

because women would never be
ready for the battle in time.

(Lord Jason chuckles)

Your presence is always
such a pleasure, Lord Jason.

Princess...
Your Grace.

Your Grace, Princess Rhaenyra,

congratulations are in order.

We are very honored to have
you as a guest, Ser Gerold.

I must say, I was most distressed

to hear of the Lady Rhea's
tragic passing.

I'm very sorry for your loss.

Ser Gerold Royce: Lady Rhea
was a unique character.

Her kind... is not
soon to be seen again.

If there is anything the crown
might do to aid House Royce--

(drumming)

Harrold:
Lord Corlys of House Velaryon.

Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark.

And his lady wife,
Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.

And their son and heir,
Ser Laenor Velaryon,

the future king consort.

(intense music playing)

(applause)

- My Betrothed.
- My Betrothed.

(applause)

♪ ♪

(coughs)

(guests murmuring)

(tense music playing)

Be welcome,

as we join together in celebration.

Tonight is only its beginning.

We honor the crown's oldest

and fiercest ally, House Velaryon.

Reaching back
to the days of Old Valyria

and the Age of Dragons.

With House Targaryen and H--

♪ ♪

(guests murmuring)

The King will not be happy.

Right in the midst of his speech.

The beacon on the Hightower,

do you know what color it glows

when Oldtown calls its banners to w*r?

Green.

♪ ♪

Congratulations, stepdaughter.

What a blessing this is for you.

Please be seated.

(King Viserys coughs)

(softly)
Where was I?

The joining of the two
houses, Your Grace.

Yeah.
(clears throat)

Yes.

With House Targaryen

and House Velaryon united,

I hope to herald in
a second Age of Dragons

in Westeros.

(applause)

(cheering)

{an}And after tonight's small affair...

{an}(laughter)

{an}seven days of tournament and feasting.

At the end of it all...

At the end of it all,
a royal wedding...

between my daughter,

my heir...

your future Queen...

and Ser Laenor Velaryon,
the heir to Driftmark.

(applause)

(drumming begins)

Rhaenyra:
I was never much of a dancer.

It's not much different to combat.

Hm, I shall hope
for a different outcome.

♪ ♪

(drumming ends)

Ah!

(indistinct chatter)

(drumming)

- Your Grace.
- We thank you for coming, uncle.

I worried that given leave
of your father's shadow,

you might wither
in King's Landing's sun.

But you stood tall.

Know that Oldtown stands with you.

♪ ♪

Gerold:
In the Vale,

men are made to answer
for their crimes.

Even Targaryens.

Who are you?

Ser Gerold Royce of Runestone.

And?

I am cousin to your late lady wife.

Ahh, yes. Terrible thing.

I'm positively bereft.
Such a tragic accident.

You know better than anyone,
it was no accident.

Are you confessing
some guilt, Ser Gerold?

I am making an accusation.

You know, in King's Landing,

men are made to answer
for their slanders.

Even old bronze c**ts like you.

(scoffs)

The truth is, I'm glad you've come.

I wish to speak to you
about my inheritance.

- What inheritance?
- Lady Rhea and I had no heirs.

As her husband,
whatever she was due now passes to me.

She stood to inherit all of Runestone...
Did she not?

After my niece's wedding,
I plan to fly to the Eyrie

and petition Lady Jeyne myself.

Perhaps I'll see you there, Ser Gerold.

(tense music playing)

- (indistinct chatter)
- (laughter)

♪ ♪

Has anybody ever told you you're
nearly as pretty as your brother?

Well, you flatter me, my Prince.

- I was sorry to hear about your lady wife.
- Don't be, I wasn't.

My lady was never very kind to me.

- I know who it is.
- Hm?

The handsome paramour.

Who?

Ser Criston Cole.

- Laenor: Her sworn protector?
- Joffrey: Look at him.

- The man is fully c**t-struck.
- (laughs)

Laena:
A Targaryen prince,

a dashing knight, and a dragonrider.

You appear to be every
young maiden's dream.

That's only because
you don't know me yet.

I believe Ser Criston has
bloodied that white cloak of his

- with your bride's maidenhead.
- Oh, keep your voice down.

Perhaps that is something
we might remedy, my Prince.

Perhaps it is.

This is a good thing.
She knows your secret...

and now you know hers.

♪ ♪

{an}All: (shout) Hey!

{an}(laughter)

All: (shout) Hey!

♪ ♪

All: (shout) Hey!

All: (shout) Hey!

Hey!

They make a handsome match, don't they?

What?

Well, the Princess and Ser Laenor.

All: (shout) Hey!

Ser Joffrey Lonmouth,

or the Knight of Kisses, they call me,

though I don't know why.

I'm on watch.
What's your business?

You don't know me, Ser Criston.

But we are both deeply
invested in this union.

All: (shout) Hey!

Ser Criston Cole: If you have something
to say, Ser Joffrey, speak it.

Ser Laenor is quite dear to me.

As I know...
the Princess is to you.

We should swear
to each other to guard them,

and their secrets,

because if those are kept safe...

then so are we all.

♪ ♪

All: (shout) Hey!

All: (shout) Hey!

All: (shout) Hey!

- May I, Ser Harwin?
- Of course, my Prince.

♪ ♪

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

- All: (shout) Hey!
- (guests screaming)

- (grunting)
- (screaming)

What in the Seven Hells is going on?

- (indistinct yelling)
- (shouts) Laenor!

(grunting)

(grunting)

- (bone crunches)
- (all gasp)

(screaming)

- Corlys: (shouts) Stop this!
- Where's Rhaenyra?

♪ ♪

(grunts)

{an}Ser Harwin Strong:
(shouts) Princess?

(yelling)

(grunting)

Rhaenyra:
Put me down!

♪ ♪

(breathing heavily)

(melancholy music playing)

(guests chattering)

(grunting)

(Laenor wailing)

High Septon: The love of the
Seven is holy and eternal.

The source of life and love.

We stand here tonight
in thanks and praise

to join two souls as one.

Father...

Mother...

Warrior...

Smith...

Maiden...

Crone...

Stranger.

Hear now their vows.

(sadly) I am yours and you are mine.

Whatever may come.

♪ ♪

Rhaenyra:
I am yours and you are mine.

Whatever may come.

High Septon: Here,
in the presence of gods and men,

I proclaim...

Laenor of House Velaryon...

Rhaenyra of House Targaryen,

to be man and wife.

One flesh...

one heart...

one soul...

now and forever.

Queen Alicent:
Ser Criston.

♪ ♪

(thud)

♪ ♪