Game of Thrones

Shh, quiet, Hodor

Make him shut up

I'm going beyond the Wall to Craster's Keep

to capture the mutineers holed up there

Who will join me?

If it's a fight you're heading for, then you need men who know how

They have my brother's wolf

They have Ghost

We're not safe here. We need to go

Who are you?

I'm Brandon Stark!

It's Jon Snow's brother

And I thought this was gonna be another boring day

I don't need a squire

He'll slow me down

He's not safe here

Good-bye, Brienne

Myrcella is my only daughter.

Do you really think I'll let you sell her like a common whore?

Dorne is the safest place for her

The Martells loathe us. She'll be a hostage

If you were to marry Cersei,

she'd murder you in your sleep.

Luckily for you you'll never marry her

A rider in the night

from your sister

Lysa says Jon Arryn was murdered

By the Lannisters

If this news is true

who but you can protect the king?

The lord of all the Vale

You'll leave for the Eyrie as soon as possible

and bring Lysa Arryn into the fold

Did you kill Joffrey?

Do you remember that lovely necklace Dontos gave you?

that a stone was missing

The poison

That was something my new friends wanted very badly

You don't think I'd let you marry that beast, do you?

You just do what needs to be done

Word has it I'm to be your bride

we ought to get to know one another

But if my mother found out

It can be our secret

Tell me a secret

May the Warrior grant him courage

and protect him in these perilous times.

May the Smith grant him strength

that he might bear this heavy burden

And may the Crone,

she that knows the fate of all men,

show him the path he must walk

and guide him through the dark places that lie ahead.

In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Tommen

of the House Baratheon First of His Name

King of the Andals and the First Men

and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.

Long may he reign!

Long may he reign!

Special day.

Your Grace.

Your Grace.

- Your Grace. - Your Grace.

Your Grace.

There he is.

Long may he reign.

Long may he reign.

He sits the throne like he was born to it.

Yes. He wasn't, though, was he?

No, he wasn't.

You still mourn for Joffrey?

He was my husband. My king.

He would have been your nightmare.

Your Grace, I feel--

You knew exactly what he was.

I did, too.

You never love anything in the world

the way you love your first child.

Doesn't matter what they do.

And what he did, it shocked me.

Do you think I'm easily shocked?

No.

The things he did shocked me.

He's only a boy.

A good boy. A decent boy.

He always has been.

Who was the last decent king, I wonder?

He could be the first man who sits on that throne

in 50 years to actually deserve it.

It would be some consolation, wouldn't it?

For all the horror that put him there.

He will need help...

if he's going to rule well.

He has you.

A mother is not enough.

You're still interested in being queen, I take it?

Oh.

After all that's happened--

it sounds strange, I know, but I am--

I haven't even given any thought to it,

what comes next.

It would be a great honor, of course.

But I will have to speak to my father about it.

Yes, speak to your father.

I'll speak to mine.

We may be faced with an alarming number of weddings soon.

I won't even know what to call you.

Sister?

Or Mother?

Hmm.

King Joffrey Baratheon is dead.

Murdered at his own wedding.

And we have taken the Meereenese navy, Your Grace.

The Second Sons took the Meereenese navy.

Who told you to take the navy?

No one.

So why did you do it?

I heard you liked ships.

How many ships?

93, Your Grace.

How many men can they carry?

9,300, not counting sailors.

Would that be enough to take King's Landing?

The Lannisters have more.

- They've been fighting - Joffrey's wars for years.

They're tired, dispersed.

And now their king is dead.

8,000 Unsullied, 2,000 Second Sons

sailing into Blackwater Bay

and storming the gates without warning.

It's hard to say. It could be enough.

But we're not fighting to make you queen of King's Landing.

10,000 men can't conquer Westeros.

The old houses will flock to our queen

when she crosses the Narrow Sea.

The old houses will flock to whichever side they think will win,

as they always have.

There's other news.

From Yunkai.

Without the Unsullied to enforce your rule,

the Wise Masters have retaken control of the city.

They've reenslaved the freedmen who stayed behind

and sworn to take revenge against you.

And in Astapor,

the council you installed to rule over the city

has been overthrown by a butcher named Cleon

who's declared himself "His Imperial Majesty."

Please leave me.

Not you, Jorah.

It appears my liberation of Slaver's Bay

isn't going quite as planned.

You could sail for Westeros

and leave it all behind.

A boy sits on the Iron Throne.

A boy many believe to be a bastard with no right to it.

They've never been more vulnerable.

You counseled me against rashness once in Qarth.

I didn't listen.

That all worked out well.

How can I rule seven kingdoms

if I can't control Slaver's Bay?

Why should anyone trust me?

Why should anyone follow me?

You're a Targaryen.

You're the Mother of Dragons.

I need to be more than that.

I will not let those I have freed slide back into chains.

I will not sail for Westeros.

What, then?

I will do what queens do.

I will rule.

Pull up your hood.

A memorable shade.

But how would they know?

You know what kind of stories poor men enjoy the most?

Ones about rich girls they'll never meet.

Is this the only way into the Eyrie?

The mountains are impassable.

If you want to get to the Eyrie,

you need to go through the Bloody Gate.

It doesn't matter how large your army is,

if you attack this gate, you do it on this road,

three men abreast

and get slaughtered like goats.

The first Lords of the Vale didn't have much,

but they had these mountains

and they knew how to use them.

And the fortress they built here has never been overcome.

Not once in 1,000 years.

Know your strengths, use them wisely,

and one man can be worth 10,000.

Who would pass the Bloody Gate?

Lord Petyr Baelish and his niece Alayne.

Stand to.

- Stand to! - Stand to!

Welcome back, Lord Baelish.

Uncle Petyr!

My lord.

Oh.

I have brought you a gift.