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, which isn’t cool, but this is easily the most dragon-centric, dragon-heavy, richly dragonesque episode of the show yet, which very much is cool. Be honest – there’ve been several long stretches, especially in Season One, when it seemed like the show we were all watching would be more honestly called House of the Whispered Conversations in Underlit Rooms.
We do get a few of those in this episode, but mostly? Dragons! Dragons roaring! Dragons squawking! Dragons sizing each other up! Dragons galumphing over the sand so awkwardly it reminds you that dragons are creatures of the air, not the earth. Dragons entertaining gentlemen callers, like Laura in The Glass Menagerie, only to turn on them, breathe gouts of fire all over their fool selves, and gobble up their flaming corpses like so many chocolate-covered cherries. En flambe.
(Don’t get me wrong,The Glass Menagerie is a good play. But let’s agree: If it ended with Laura Wingfield breathing flaming napalm onto Jim O’Connor so that he got reduced to a pile of cinders, center stage? A great play.)
High (Velaryon) noon
On a beach on Driftmark, Rhaenyra and her dragon Syrax have found Addam and his dragon Seasmoke. Syrax and Seasmoke growl at each other like they’re two alpha cockapoos at a dog park. You half expect Rhaenyra and Addam to launch into a tiresome conversation about leash-aggression.
But no: Rhaenyra starts off the conversation by growling a bit herself – yet as soon as she sees that Addam is eager to (resigned sigh) bend the knee and declare his loyalty to her, she eases up a bit, and invites him and Seasmoke back to her place for aperitifs and s’mores. Addam, for his part, chooses not to share the fact that his father is Corlys, which is a marked departure from his earlier attitude. Are you looking for some logical explanation for that odd, uncharacteristic choice? Keep waiting, cookie.
In the Red Keep, Grandmaester Orwyle attends to the cut Alicent received on her arm in last week’s riot. Real talk: Her storyline in this episode is crazy boring, so let’s just get it all out of the way up top: She’s not taking being dismissed from Aemond’s Small Council well; she gets so mopey that she drags her bodyguard along with her as she rides forlornly into the woods, takes a forlorn dip in a forlorn lake, and camps out, with great forlornitude. There. If the show doesn’t know what to do with her, I’m not gonna spare it too much thought, or ink.
In the Red Keep courtyard, two members of Aemond’s never-been-smaller Small Council – Ser Larys Strong and Ser Jasper Wylde – watch as the two members of King Aegon’s Kingsguard (read: Aegon’s fellow fratty Chads) who survived last week’s riot are punished for instigating it. They’re stripped of their white cloaks and are being sent to The Wall, where they will don the black of the Night’s Watch. Harsh, but at least they’re switching one monochromatic lewk for another. And that’s called fashion.
Ser Jasper mentions that he’s heard tell of a dragon with a new rider, but Larys cautions him against telling Aemond, the Prince Regent. There’s a nice ambiguity here: Larys’ hesitancy to inform Aemond of this development could read like he doubts the veracity of the intel – or it could read like he doesn’t want to alert Aemond of a new threat. Larys gonna Larys. He’s inscrutable! Go ahead, just try to scrute him! You can’t!
Rhaenyra returns to Dragonstone with Addam in tow; Jacaerys looks none too pleased. Neither are the queen’s advisors, who object to the very notion of letting a commoner ride a dragon. (This fast becomes this episode’s running theme – noble white dudes stroking their beards, clucking their tongues, gnashing their teeth and rending their garments while wailing “What is to be done about lowborn dragonriders?”)
In the Dragonstone library, Rhaenyra is still hung up on the conviction that Addam, and probably others, must have Targaryen ancestors. Mysaria, who knows a little bit more about the world, having made a successful career in the – (say it with me!) “bowels of a pleasure den” – suggests that blood is not necessarily the bodily fluid she should be looking at. Instead of poring over family trees, she should instead shake the branches and see how many illegitimate Targaryen kids fall out of them.
Corlys finds first Addam, and later Alyn, and has awkward conversations in which none of them comes out and says what’s actually on their minds. These talks are so stiff and content-free they conclusively prove he’s their dad. They’re the Westerosi version of “How’s that car runnin’, sport? Aaaanyway here’s your mom.”
Oscar the Grouch is takin’ out the trash
At Harrenhal, young Ser Oscar Tully, who with his grandfather’s passing is now Lord of the Riverlands, meets with Daemon. Daemon, predictably (Daemon is hella predictable, you guys) tries to bully the kid as he did before, but it doesn’t work. Oscar’s new title and/or puberty have given the lad the guts to call Daemon out on his rotten behavior – specifically the way Daemon encouraged Ser Willem Blackwood to ravage the Riverlands and its people.
The Riverlords are still smarting from all that raping and pillaging, as you’d expect, and in the courtyard of Harrenhal’s weirwood tree, they demand justice. Ser Oscar instructs Daemon to administer said justice by beheading Ser Blackwood (“Oh, dear,” says Ser Simon Strong, because of course he does, he’s a precious precious angel and no harm must come to him) and manages to get in a few choice digs at Daemon in the process. (Given his age, I was all set to glibly refer to Oscar as a kind of “squeaky-voiced teen” of The Simpsons fame, because that was his original vibe, but actor Archie Barnes is bringing serious gravitas – and a rich, deep voice – to the proceedings, so it doesn’t work. Are we looking at another Bella Ramsey/Lyanna Mormont breakout moment, here? I’m not ruling it out.)
Oscar also gets to say, “Seize him!” which regardless of context is always a pretty badass thing to get to say – especially if it’s followed up by someone actually being seized. I mean, I could go around shouting “Seize him!” until I’m hoarse – and I have! – and the odds of anyone in my general vicinity actually getting seized? Slim. Slim to none, I’d say.
Daemon does the Blackwood head-lopping, and returns to his bedchamber, where King Viserys – in his latter-day Cryptkeeper mode – awaits him, because even though we all thought we were finally done with this woo-woo stuff, we’re still not done with this woo-woo stuff.
The conversation he has with vision-Viserys isn’t particularly enlightening and covers no new ground, just the Harrenhal boilerplate “I never wanted the crown/Why do you want the crown so badly?” stuff.
He does see the goat again, though. So there’s that, at least.
In the Red Keep, long-suffering Grandmaester Orwyle is attempting to get the still-in-agonizing-pain King Aegon to walk around the room. He’d have more success trying to get a 150-pound burlap sack of potatoes to walk around the room. The potato sack would moan and scream a lot less, at least.
(Tom Glynn-Carney really sells Aegon’s piteous state, here.)
Ser Larys comes in and tells Orwyle to keep up the exercises, because while the king is making progress, he needs to make more of it, and faster. I predict the first episode of Season 3 will feature an extended Aegon physical-therapy/rehab training montage, complete with 80’s glam-rock power chords. (You’re the best! Arou-und!)
In the Eyrie, Rhaena and her party – the kids, the dragons, the eggs, etc. – are finally leaving, on their way to the seaside to catch a boat to Pentos. Rhaena lags behind and heads into the countryside, in search of the wild dragon that’s lately been feasting on roast mutton by the metric ton.
Why buy the dragon when you can get the flaming, agonizing, skin-crackling death for free?
Back on Dragonstone, Jacaerys confronts his mother about her plan to recruit dragonriders who are – in his words – mongrels. At first, we’re led to believe that Jacaerys is just like all her other advisors, peering down their noses at lowborn scum. But it soon becomes clear that his reasons are more rooted in who he knows himself to be – the illegitimate son of Laenor Targaryen. His ability to ride a dragon helped him disguise that fact. But if any old Flea Bottom Frankie or Street of Silk Sally can ride a dragon now, his status as the queen’s heir will be questioned even more than it already has been. (It’s still a snooty attitude, but the show laid the track for this nicely – it’s coming from someplace besides his privilege alone. I like it!)
We now get an extended montage wherein Elinda, Rhaenyra’s handmaiden who she sent to King’s Landing a couple weeks back, lets the smallfolk know that Rhaenyra is looking for a few good men, and women. She wants anyone who may be the illegitimate child of a Targaryen to come to Dragonstone and try to claim the two dragons that are hanging out there: Vermithor – the crotchety old creature almost as big as Vhagar, and Silverwing.
Two of the folks we’ve been following for a few weeks now answer the call. There’s Ulf, though he does so very reluctantly, and only after his drinking buddies threaten to expose him as a fraud. And there’s Hugh, the big Viking-looking dude, whose sick daughter, we now learn, has died. If he claims a dragon, he and his wife will be made rich.
A small horde of King’s Landing’s common folk, many of them white-haired, sneak out of the city and sail to Dragonstone. (If you’re wondering how so many of them managed this, as the city is supposedly on full lockdown, you are thinking too hard about the real-world logistics of a show about flying fire-breathing dragons; guys we’ve talked about this.)
Rhaenyra’s dragonkeepers are still more folks who object to the idea of filthy unwashed commoners claiming a dragon and stage a walkout. Rhaenrya, undeterred, speaks to the assembled crowd of hopefuls. The speech is long on ideals – saving lives, bringing peace, etc. – and short on safety instructions.
The crowd follows her to the Dragondock-thingy, and she summons Vermithor. (She does this by simply speaking his name, which suggests the dragonkeepers, with all their elaborate Gregorian chanting, are less a sacred order and more a bunch of theater kids who can’t resist a showtune.)
Dragon is not a contact sport
The show makes a meal out of what happens next, which is Vermithor making a meal out of the assembled crowd. They play it out first – Vermithor inspects the crowd, smiles, waggles his giant scaly head coquettishly, and then starts lighting the place up. The crowd scatters, Vermithor plucks a few of them up, bodies get tossed, corpses get burned, and several folks plummet off the edge of the Dragondock to their deaths.
Ulf manages to sneak away into the caves of Dragonstone. Hugh tries to, but gets caught behind a rock with a terrified woman. She flees, and Vermithor spots her. Hugh shouts at the dragon, saving the woman’s life, and then walks up to it bravely, issuing a stirring, eloquent challenge, an incisive, expertly-argued treatise on the state of human-dragon relations, as he does so.
Just kidding. He just sort of shouts, “Come onnnnnnnnnn!”
But it suffices. Vermithor is impressed. A love connection is made.
Ulf, meanwhile, stumbles around in the dark, and through some dragonpoop, directly into a sleeping Silverwing, who awakes, and just … nudges Ulf affectionately, like he wants him to throw the damn Kong, already. Love connection number two.
Back in King’s Landing, Aemond’s now absolutely Teeny Tiny Council is discussing military matters when a commotion in the streets causes Aemond to storm onto the balcony. He sees what everyone’s making a fuss about – Ulf, astride Silverwing, swooping high over the city.
Aemond hops on his horse and rides into the countryside where Vhagar is waiting, and mounts up.
He and Vhagar chase the retreating Ulf/Silverwing over the bay. They nearly make it to Dragonstone when Aemond sees something that horrifies him – three dragons staring back at him – Vermithor, Syrax and Silverwing. And in front of them, Rhaenyra, looking singed but determined, wordlessly expressing the notion of “Bring it,” but in High Valyrian.
Aemond wheels Vhagar around, and retreats.
Parting Thoughts
- Okay it wasn’t a dragon-fighting-dragon battle episode, exactly, but it was quite dragon-centered, and there were plenty of death-by-dragon casualties. And in the full light of day! If you were wondering why they didn’t show us the Battle of the Burning Mill earlier in the season, here’s your answer. Dragons on the beach, sussing each other out. Dragons on Dragonstone, chomping their way through the day-players.
- Seriously, show, what is up with that Alicent storyline? She’s undervalued, she’s overlooked, she’s resentful. Must be Tuesday. I had hoped we’d get something toward the end of the episode that would point us to something bigger, something outside of herself. Nope. Just more doubling down on what we already know.
- Speaking of doubling down on what we already know: Daemon, my dude. This whole season has been you on your own private walkabout. We were led to believe you’d learned something, but you still treated Oscar like the preening jerk we’ve known you to be from Season One, Episode One. The British writer Alan Bennett has a character in one of his monologues ask, “What is this in aid of?” It’s a British-ism, meaning: What is this doing here? What is it telling us that we don’t already know? Daemon’s a jerk, he wants the crown, and maybe he’s starting to feel a bit guilty about that fact. It takes an entire season of vision-questing to establish that? Seriously? What is this in aid of?
- Ser Simon Strong: You remain perfect. Change nothing about yourself. You’re too soft for this harsh bad awful violent world to last much longer, but know that I see you, and I appreciate you. And I would, very likely, be you.
- We’re one episode from the end of the season, and there’s lots of story left to tell. What will be the final image before the end credits? I fully expect Rhaena to claim her dragon in the next episode, and for Aemond to react to being stared down by Rhaenyra in a truly awful way that puts lots of innocent people in danger, as that’s kind of his whole, entire vibe. I pray to the old gods and the new that Daemon gets the hell out of Harrenhal already. Otherwise, I’m a blank slate.
- You thought Aegon’s status as a burnt out-end of smoky days would take him off the table. Not so! Tom Glynn-Carney’s still got a lot to give to the season, and he’s giving it big time. Accompanied by squelching noises.
300x250 Ad
300x250 Ad