House of the Dragon
Season 2 – Episode 7
Episode title: The Red Sowing
Original air date: July 28, 2024
Plot: Rhaenyra confronts Addam on a beach, Syrax and Seasmoke watching, and receives his fealty as a dragonrider. Grandmaester Orwyle tends to Alicent’s injured wrist from the riot, she is dismayed at being removed from the Small Council, after years of loyal service to the crown. Alicent takes refuge in Kingswood to avoid court, and dive in a lake. Larys pushes Grandmaester Orwyle to accelerate Aegon’s recovery, despite the great pain and difficulty it causes him. Rhaena, leaving Castle Arryn, wanders in search of a dragon. Mysaria tells Rhaenyra that her knowledge of King’s Landing brothels will help find Targaryen bastards. Young Oscar Tully gives Daemon allegiance, but, spurred by Riverlords’ dissent, says he detests Daemon’s nefarious behavior; he challenges Daemon to do justice, and Daemon executes Lord Blackwood. Daemon sees Viserys’ rotting ghost, who asks if he really wants the burden of the crown. Jace challenges Rhaenyra, saying that if bastards ride dragons, the Targaryens will be less distinguished, and his succession could be threatened, especially given his dark hair inherited from Harwin Strong. Rhaenyra and Corlys have Elinda gather Targaryen bastards to Dragonstone. Vermithor burns many of them, but Hugh claims him and Ulf mounts Silverwing. Seeking to lure Aemond, Ulf flies over King’s Landing on Silverwing, bringing Aemond on Vhagar in pursuit. As Aemond nears Dragonstone he retreats, as Rhaenyra looks on with Syrax, Vermithor, and Silverwing standing fast behind her.
* * *
(epic theme playing)
♪
(theme fades out)
(Syrax roars)
(Seasmoke roars)
(dragons grumbling, calling)
(shouts) You stand before the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms… with a dragon of House Targaryen!
(shouts) I had no design upon it!
What do you want?!
Addam of Hull: To learn the ways of dragonriders.
And to serve my queen!
Your Grace!
(dragons grumbling)
(dragons howling)
(Seasmoke roars)
You kneel quickly… for a man so suddenly elevated.
This dragon came to me, not I to him.
(Seasmoke howls)
I have sweated blood in service of House Velaryon.
I may appear lowborn… but I know much and more of service!
And if the gods call me to greater things, who am I to refuse them?
Stand.
What is your parentage?
My mother was a shipwright.
My father is… no one of consequence.
Your ancestors, any of House Targaryen?
We’re not the sort of family to keep annals, Your Grace.
What is your name?
Addam… of Hull.
(Seasmoke grumbling)
You have done something…
I feared impossible…
Addam of Hull.
I am glad of it.
(light music playing)
Do you think you can get him to Dragonstone?
I can try.
(music fades out)
Alicent Hightower: All my life…
I have endeavored to serve both my house and the realm.
And somehow none of it matters.
We are cast aside.
Or hated.
You’ll have a scar… but… (inhales) it will be easily hidden.
(nearby scritching)
Nothing is clean here.
(rat squeaking)
(distant chatter)
I wish to go out, Ser Rickard.
Rickard Thorne: Out?
To the Kingswood, I think.
Then I’ll have the stewards prepare a retinue.
No retinue.
Then your handmaidens…
No handmaidens.
(birds chirping)
Just you.
(indistinct chatter)
Jasper “Ironrod” Wylde: What are they for? The block or the crow cage?
Larys Strong: The Wall.
The prince regent is merciful.
Hm.
Well, they started a riot.
Justice is served, I suppose.
(horse neighs)
I have received word of a matter of great importance.
Rumor of a sighting of the dragon Seasmoke… with a rider.
A fine piece of intelligence, and now you seek favor by delivering it to Prince Aemond.
Actually, I thought I might seek your advice, Lord Larys.
Whispers being your province.
guard: Kneel before the Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen!
Oh, but this is your whisper,
Lord Jasper, not mine.
But if you consider it valuable… perhaps you could deliver it and find favor with Aemond yourself.
Aemond Targaryen: You will forsake your white cloaks for black. serve out your days at The Wall.
Larys: Who is this rider?
Ironrod: That is less clear, but it must surely be the Lady Rhaena.
She has wanted for a dragon all her life.
Indeed, but she tried already when she was four and ten.
The beast Seasmoke very nearly devoured her.
Who else?
Yes, it is a shallow pool.
Where did you hear it?
My squire.
He heard it from a stablehand, who heard it from his father, a fisherman, whose shipmate claims he saw it.
Oh.
You are, of course, welcome to bring this news to the prince regent, but, um…
perhaps this is one of those whispers best left to the wind.
(prisoners struggling)
(Ironrod clears throat)
(tense music playing)
(horse neighs)
(dragons calling)
♪
(music fades out)
The queen is unharmed.
Corlys Velaryon: What of the rider? Do we know who he is?
He appears to be a shipwright in your employ, Lord Hand.
Bartimos Celtigar: A commoner?
With respect to your workers, Lord Corlys, the lowborn cannot go around seizing dragons.
Has the thief been secured?
Her Grace has commanded that he remain here as a guest.
She wishes him to be instructed in the art of dragonriding, and that I should teach him some High Valyrian.
Bartimos: We know nothing about this man, save that he is lowborn.
What say you, Lord Hand?
We will await the queen’s accounting… before passing judgment.
(Bartimos sighs)
Where is the queen?
Her Grace sends word she will not be attending.
Mysaria: So he serves you and not himself.
That is lucky.
Lucky?
Or somehow ordained?
Seasmoke chose him.
He surely has Targaryen blood in him somewhere.
The dragon must sense it.
There will be others.
We will find riders for Vermithor and Silverwing.
You trust this man?
What choice do I have?
He has a dragon.
Without him, I have only Syrax who may give Aemond a second thought.
The question is where to look.
Targaryen blood was perhaps too thin in Ser Steffon Darklyn.
If I can find others with a more direct line of breeding.
(Mysaria chuckles)
Forgive me, Your Grace… but you are better served looking under the sheets and in the woodpiles.
I once worked in a pleasure house where generations of Targaryen princelings had their revels.
There are four score of their bastard progeny at least, that are known to me.
There are sure to be more.
Perhaps some here, on Dragonstone, the misbegotten offspring of your house.
You speak of the lowborn.
They are as like to serve you as highborn lords or ladies, perhaps more.
But in the highborn houses there is…
(inhales) an ancient fealty.
There is honor.
Your royal half-brothers, Aegon and Aemond, whose blood is pure, who wage war against you for your throne, are they bound by honor?
A common shipwright vows to serve you while your brothers seek to destroy you.
The order of things has changed, Your Grace.
Why not embrace it?
For 20 years, the lords of this realm levied… insults at my sons behind my back.
Well then.
Let us raise an army of bastards.
My lord.
Corlys: “My lord”?
How you have come up in the world.
I wish to ask for leave to relinquish my part as a shipwright in your service.
There are good men and strong who can take my place…
Your leave is granted.
Well done.
(intense music playing)
(horses neigh)
♪
(knocks on door)
Simon Strong: Lord Tully has answered your summons and brought the Riverlords, my king.
Daemon Targaryen: My condolences on the passing of your grandsire but the crown congratulates you on your ascension to the head of your house and Lord Paramount in the Riverlands.
Truly glorious. Well done.
I did nothing.
Nevertheless, you are here, which is the important thing.
You were quick enough to dismiss me before.
You were of no significance to me then.
Now…
I shall have my great host.
You have a decision to make.
I presume it is clear to you which is the right one.
Oscar Tully: You’ll forgive me, Your Grace.
I am green in this sort of matter, as you so kindly point out, but… (inhales) it does seem to me that you’ve made rather a mess here, countenancing barbarities in the queen’s name.
Whose side are you on?
(deep breath)
The Riverlands are held together by oaths.
House Tully swore an oath to King Viserys.
We recognize the authority of the named heir, Queen Rhaenyra and your own… as her king consort.
Good.
Then we shall go to face your vassals and you will call your banners to war.
That might be difficult, my king.
Well…
I was told they would come to heel when House Tully declared its allegiance.
That may be the case, though it is yet to be seen that they will heed my authority as young as it is.
And there is another problem.
They all hate you.
(quiet, tense music playing)
I don’t need their love.
I need their swords.
(door opens)
Your Grace, my lord. The Riverlords await.
I fear we cannot delay them any longer.
Daemon: Come along, Lord Oscar.
(music intensifies)
In the deepest darkness comes the dawn.
A new lord, a new beginning.
Let us put all the old unpleasantness behind us.
Be welcome, my lords… and you have my thanks for answering my summons.
I know I’m not the man my grandsire was, but I hope to begin well, and go on from there.
Daemon: Well said. One thing is clear… the Rivermen honor the old ways and abide by tradition.
Here, then, is tradition.
Grover Tully is dead.
Lord Oscar raised up in his place.
You have been summoned here to swear anew your fealty to him,and as his bannermen, answer his call.
And what would that call be?
In his wisdom, he has pledged his house, and yours, to me.
(Riverlords murmuring)
Lord Piper: Lord Oscar, for generations we have been guided by the judgment of your forebears.
Why should we now follow a boy, younger than my own sons, when you will align with one who will desecrate the innocent to reach his aims?
(Riverlords murmuring)
I did only what was necessary, my lord.
And I now deliver to you the traitor Amos Bracken and his son.
No more traitor to his land than you, Willem Blackwood.
I take to heart your words, Lord Piper, and I agree, I-I-I am young.
(sighs)
And I have no love for Daemon Targaryen.
He has dishonored himself and the crown with his… comportment here.
Nevertheless, having so little experience to guide me, my best course is to defer to the oath my grandsire swore to King Viserys when he named Rhaenyra his heir.
I see no reason to cast aside loyalty no matter how loathsome I may find her representative the prince.
King.
Mind your tongue, boy.
(Riverlords murmuring)
Will you have our army or not?
I am, in the end, a Riverman and the word of my house stands, even if certain people are unworthy of it.
(wind blowing)
(sighs)
Your Lord Oscar is bold.
But he is perhaps not wrong.
I may have been a touch enthusiastic in pursuing my aims.
But don’t allow my failings to… keep you from supporting an upright man.
Lady Mallister: Lord Oscar, we honor the old ways, as Prince Daemon says and the old ways call for justice to be done.
riverlord: Yes!
Justice has been done.
They who bent the knee to the usurper have been brought to heel.
And now, we unite before our liege lord… and our king consort.
I accept you as my vassal, Willem Blackwood… but… I am Lord Paramount of all River Houses.
And there is only one answer for the crimes you visited upon your neighbors.
I did only what His Grace the king required of me.
Oscar: It is true that he made clear his base desires, but you did not have to pursue such savagery.
You did it… because you wanted to.
Our young lord speaks truly.
Seize him.
(Riverlords murmuring)
Willem Blackwood: Don’t fuckin’ do this.
Your Grace, command them. I’ve only served you.
Command them.
Oscar: If His Grace wishes to show contrition for his acts and to prove himself deserving of our banners he must now rectify his grievous error.
Denounce your crimes… and dispense justice.
Oh, dear.
♪
(muffled, echoing) No, no, no!
I did as you asked, Your Grace, I have been faithful.
♪
(music stops)
(wind blowing)
(unsettling music playing)
(goat bleating)
(person breathing heavily)
(music fades out)
(crown clinks)
(Viserys breathing heavily)
What is this?
I never wanted it.
I was right not to.
All that pain it caused.
It crushes whoever wears it.
You always wanted it, Daemon.
Do you want it still?
(high-pitched ringing)
(Aegon grunting)
Grand Maester Orwyle: Steady. Slowly.
Aegon Targaryen: I can’t.
Orwyle: You can. You must try, Your Grace.
(Aegon groans)
(cane snaps, clatters)
(Aegon wincing, yelling)
I can’t, I can’t!
(groaning)
I’m sorry, Your Grace. I’m sorry, Your Grace.
(cries) Oh, God. Oh, God.
(knocking at door)
(Aegon yells)
A moment!
(aggressive knocking)
A moment, please!
(door opens)
You really oughtn’t to be doing that alone, Grand Maester.
(groaning)
Allow me.
(Aegon panicking)
Aegon: No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Forgive me, Your Grace.
(grunting, yelling)
Orwyle: Be careful.
Wait, wait.
(yelling)
(Aegon breathing heavily)
Your progress is impressive.
But I’m afraid you must work harder.
Your strength will return.
There are… adjustments to the gait and so forth that you will learn now that you are… as you are.
(grunting)
You should be more cautious.
I, I should, Lord Larys.
He-He needs rest. He should be abed.
I push him on your instruction.
I’ll have the sentry give you more warning.
Let him try again in a few hours.
He is spent.
(softly) It will be long before he may rest again.
(Aegon groans)
(indistinct chatter)
Corlys: Alyn.
Alyn of Hull: My lord.
Corlys: I have tasks that need your personal attention.
The queen requires ships at her service in King’s Landing.
Charter fishing vessels. Pay whatever they demand but ensure their captains are dependable.
Put trusted swords aboard.
Yes, m’lord.
Have them wait just outside the harbor.
And there will be a message to carry to one she will name.
The queen has found a new rider for one of her dragons.
I’ve heard tell of it.
The rider is your brother.
She now makes the call for others.
Our people are of Old Valyria, but… we are no dragonlords.
I confess, I knew little of your mother’s heritage.
If it is… something in the blood.
My brother was ever restless, yearning for some sign of his worth.
I am of salt and sea.
I yearn for nothing else.
(wind blowing)
(tense, solemn music playing)
♪
(tense, mischievous music playing)
(wind blowing)
(panting)
♪
(music fades out)
(ambient nature sounds)
(horse grunting)
I will retire now, Ser Rickard.
When does Your Grace mean to return to the city?
I’m not yet certain I do.
Good night.
Jacaerys Velaryon: The lowborn claiming dragons, was it her idea?
Lady Mysaria?
You were enthusiastic enough when Ser Steffon made his claim.
He was the Lord Commander of your Queensguard.
Heir to the Dun Fort. These people are…
Courageous.
Mongrels.
(Rhaenyra sighs)
Jace.
Think what is at stake.
I know well what is at stake.
House Targaryen is the blood of the dragon.
If any may lay claim to it, what are we then?
The rightful rulers of the Seven Kingdoms.
And what if one of your baseborn, silver-haired dragonriders decides he wants to rule the Seven Kingdoms?
Did the Conqueror’s dream foretell that?
What else would you have me do?
Prosecute a war, which we will lose, in which thousands will die.
Or fly against Vhagar myself?
Or perhaps you will fly against her on Vermax.
Jace, with these riders, we can end a needless war.
I may take my rightful place on my father’s throne.
Jacaerys: And when you die?
(chuckles) You are my heir.
(inhales)
Did you think I would have dark hair?
When you took Harwin Strong into your bed, did you think I might favor him, or did it not cross your mind?
Jacaerys…
I’m no fool, Mother!
The proof is here for all to see.
Yet I may argue my legitimacy to succeed you because I have a dragon.
And now you say you will strip that from me too.
I mislike all of this. (sniffles)
Then don’t pursue it.
(light music playing)
But I cannot gainsay that which the gods have laid before me.
(light, tense music playing)
(tense music playing)
Do whatever you must to see that it finds her.
♪
(indistinct chatter)
From the queen.
♪
(singers vocalizing)
♪
♪
Mujja: You won’t believe this.
(indistinct chatter)
Word is, Rhaenyra’s recruiting smallfolk to go to (whispers) Dragonstone.
Oh, fuck that.
Oh, they wouldn’t take you anyway.
(laughter)
They’re looking… for Targaryen bastards.
Boats leave tonight. Hour of the bat.
Seven hells, Ulf. This is it! (laughs)
Yeah, a likely story.
You’ve been taken in, lads.
Mujja: No, no, no, no, no.
The queen’s own handmaid is here, spreadin’ the word.
Ulf: Well, that’s a shame ’cause I’d have been first in line if it wasn’t for my injury.
‘Cause my leg hasn’t been the same since…
Are you touched?
He’s saying you can claim a dragon.
The barkeep from the Seven Maesters is goin’.
And two of the girls from Mother’s.
(hushed) A chance to stick it to Aemond.
And claim a dragon.
(hushed) Dragon!
Yeah, no. I know.
Mujja: What?
I know. I just… I can’t…
I can’t be sure it’s all true.
You can’t mean that you’ve been drinkin’ at the expense of all these, these good people for a fiction? No, Ulf.
No, no. Shh.
All spark and no tinder?
Mujja: They won’t be happy.
Cley: They’ll be very unhappy.
Never live it down.
Never live it down.
Come on, Ulf, the time has come!
Mujja: Come on!
Cley: Can I see a little glimmer?
Mujja: Where is it?
There’s the Ulf I know.
Mujja: Yes! Yes, there he is!
Yes, yes!
Wine! Wine for Ulf the Dragonlord!
Ulf the Dragonlord!
(all cheering)
Ulf the Dragonlord! Ulf the Dragonlord!
(all chanting “Ulf”)
(Cley laughs)
(fire crackling)
Kat: I don’t want you to go.
I have to, Kat.
We’ll go to my brother in Tumbleton.
They’ll have food. You’ll find work.
I can’t ignore this.
(dog barking outside)
I never knew my father.
That much is true.
But I did know my mother.
(outside chatter)
I hid it from you.
And I’m sorry for that.
(sighs)
She worked… in a pleasure house.
She was granted more freedom than most because of who she was.
And because rich men paid more to fuck a woman with silver hair.
She used to tell me…
I was no different to her brother’s boys
Viserys… and Daemon.
(Hugh inhales)
But I was ashamed of her.
I tried to make my way with my own hands.
(solemn music playing)
I could not protect you.
I could not keep our girl alive.
And now… we would never want again.
If I claimed a dragon…
they’d make you a lady.
♪
I do not care to be a lady, Hugh.
And neither do I want to be a widow.
♪
I have to do somethin’.
(tense music playing)
♪
(music fades out)
(ambient nature sounds)
(light music playing)
(wind blowing)
♪
♪
(music intensifies)
(music fades out)
(dragonkeeper speaking High Valyrian)
(speaking High Valyrian)
(nearby dragon growls)
(deep breath)
I used to think I knew what it was to claim a dragon, but… I understand now that what I thought I knew is… ash in the wind.
Perhaps it is blood.
Or worth.
Or perhaps it’s something else.
Each of you… has left behind a life to answer this call.
A life to which… you might never return.
If you survive, you will be transformed.
No man or woman can face a dragon and be otherwise.
Some of you may welcome the prospect of change, even death, given the alternatives: privation… starvation, war.
This is our purpose, to end those hardships.
For you… for your kin, for all the realm.
With these two dragons added to our number, the enemy will have no choice but to give way.
And peace will be restored… suffering will be ended, and without bloodshed… gods willing.
(nearby dragon growls)
(tense music playing)
(deep breath)
The dragon named Vermithor… is the largest in the world after Vhagar, and… perhaps, the most fierce.
He’s called the Bronze Fury.
♪
We’ll go to him now.
And… may the gods bless you.
♪
(music fades out)
(Rhaenyra speaking High Valyrian)
(heavy footstep)
(rumbling)
(heavy footsteps)
(Vermithor roars)
(Rhaenyra speaking High Valyrian)
(screeches)
(Vermithor grumbling)
(Vermithor calms)
(grumbling)
(Vermithor growling)
Who among you would be first?
(all murmuring)
(Vermithor grumbles)
(grumbling)
I have nothing more to tell you.
It must be the dragon who speaks.
(all murmuring)
(Vermithor grumbling)
(all panicking)
(deep, low growling)
(Vermithor calms)
(panting)
(roars)
(all screaming)
Your Grace, we must away!
No.
(screaming)
(grunts)
(screaming)
(grunts)
(screaming)
(roars)
dragonseed: Help me! Help…
Help me!
(tense, solemn music playing)
♪
(Vermithor screeches)
(coughing)
(Vermithor roars)
(panting)
Oh, f…
(tense music playing)
(indistinct yelling)
(Vermithor screeches)
(panting)
(smallfolk screaming)
(Hugh panting)
(smallfolk yelling)
(Vermithor screeches, roars)
(screams)
(grunts)
(smallfolk screaming)
No!
Shh, shh, shh!
(both panting)
(smallfolk screaming)
(roars)
(screaming)
(roars)
(panting)
(smallfolk screaming)
(heavy footsteps)
(Vermithor grumbles)
(screeches)
(roaring)
(grunts)
(grumbling)
(groans)
(smallfolk panicking)
Here! Here I am!
(roaring)
I’m ready.
(roaring)
(yells) Come on!
(heavy breathing)
(Vermithor grumbling)
(Vermithor calms)
♪
(music intensifies)
♪
(music fades out)
(Ulf panting, grunts)
(grunting)
(coughing)
(groans, panting)
(coughs)
(panting)
(dragon growls)
(heavy breathing)
(dragon grumbling)
(roars)
(heavy footsteps)
(grumbles)
(Ulf grunting)
(grumbling)
(Silverwing calms)
(panting)
(grunting)
(grumbles)
(exhales)
(laughing)
“Lord Ormund Hightower makes slow progress. There is great concern that his host is threatened on two fronts by armies allied with House Beesbury.”
(outside chatter)
However, in happier tidings,
Prince Daeron’s dragon, Tessarion, has at last taken to wing.
Your brother expects to join the fight soon.
guard (shouts): Dragon!
Ironrod: And when he does, the Hightower host will be unstoppable.
guard (shouts): Dragon! Inside! Now!
(indistinct shouting outside)
(tense music playing)
(bells ringing)
guard (shouts): Take positions!
(guards shouting)
♪
(Silverwing calling)
(yelling)
(yelling, laughing)
♪
(Aemond grunts)
(horse neighs)
Open the gates!
(chattering, shouting)
(music fades out)
(intense music playing)
(roars)
♪
(roars)
(speaking High Valyrian)
(roars)
(roars)
♪
(roars)
(dragons roaring)
(music fades out)
(tense music playing)
(singers vocalizing)
♪
