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! And the only addition to the Die, You! Tapestry we get this week is difficult to decipher at first. Looks to me like a woman whispering into the ear of a stout gentleman with a thin, John Waters mustache. Alys and Daemon? Alys and Aemond? Or — OK, no, wait, I see it now — it's Aemond, murdering my sweet babboo Ser Simon Strong back in episode 2. Wow. Cold. Way to rub it in, you vindictive textile, you. Now I'm glad to see you get torn in half each week.
In the small merchant town of Tumbleton, the Hightower army is going house-to-house, forcibly quartering troops in private homes, 'cause Westeros don't got a Third Amendment.
In the home of the local lord and lady, Ormund Hightower has set up shop — if we're careful to define "shop" as "plopped his bathtub in the middle of their living room." In a power move, he stands up from the bath he's taking to show us his hindquarters (and show the nobles his frontquarters), while pompously instructing his young squire on the proper way to deal with "those beneath you." Presumably he's not referring to his frontquarters.
He receives some bad news — the Baratheons haven't sent troops, and Aemond still hasn't shown up to Harrenhal with Vhagar. (This last bit happened at the end of episode 2, but news-by-raven travels slow.) And that's when we get the reveal the show's been sitting on — this squire, the red-headed kid who's been standing by Ormund's side since the season began, is actually Daeron, youngest son of Alicent, brother to Aegon, Aemond and Helaena, and the rider of the dragon Tessarion.
RIP, spheres of the realm
At Rhaenyra's Teeny Tiny Council chamber in the Red Keep, Orwyle suggests sending the riverlord army (which is currently marching to Kings Landing) to take Tumbleton back. It would cost fewer lives than raining down dragonfire, he argues. And with that suggestion, he's back in the Queen's good graces. (There's a brief exchange where Orwyle reaches for one of those weird little billiard-ball token thingies to register his attendance or whatever, only to get shut down, and informed that they're "relics of the old regime." Too bad; I'll miss those fetishistic, tactile bits of business, but I hope they find a place in a Kings Landing history museum. It was one of those tchotchkes, after all, that took out poor timorous Lord Beesbury, back in the day. Never forget.)
Mysaria reminds the Queen of their money troubles, and suggests appointing a Master of Coin to throw under the bus. Rhaenyra remembers meeting the toadyish Ser Torrhen Manderly last week; he's about to fail upwards.
We get a brief reunion between Rhaenyra and her prisoner Alicent (a Rhaeunion!) wherein Alicent explains that she sent Daeron away to Oldtown when he was a baby because she didn't want him to grow up to be like his brothers. Which is all well and good, but if it means he instead grows up to be like the haughty Ormund Hightower, that's one bullet that didn't really get dodged so much as it missed vital organs as it passed through the torso.
As Rhaenyra leaves, Alicent tells her that Ormund has a strong sensitivity to odors. The show treats this information like he's the Death Star and the smell thing is his tiny exhaust port, so it better come up later as the key to his undoing.
Corlys, still smarting from Rhaenyra's snubbing of his sons, peaces out of the capital and back to his little island, telling Alyn to take over for him.
Don't let the Sunfyre go down on me
Larys and Aegon make it back to Rook's Rest, where they find the body of Aegon's dragon Sunfyre. Aegon insists that the beast is still alive, while Larys counters that it is no more, it has ceased to be, it has expired and gone to meet its maker, it is a stiff, bereft of life it rests in peace, if you hadn't nailed it to the perch it'd be pushing up the daisies, its metabolic processes are now history, it's off the twig, it's kicked the bucket, shuffled off its mortal coil, rung down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible, this is an ex-dragon.
Or, you know. Words to that effect.
They head into the war-ravaged town, seeking food and shelter. Aegon is taken aback by the squalor — and by the decaying body of Meleys, the dragon he fought last season. They get jobs, despite Aegon totally beefing the interview with his imperious Aegonosity.
Larys tries to convince him that Rhaenyra pronouncing him dead is a good thing, as it will make his eventual return to the throne a much better story. The ex-king then suffers a few more debasements at the hands (and feet) of the dude running the camp, and here's where I started to worry that the writers are only subjecting him to all these indignities to set him on a redemption arc.
Will it all humble him? Will he suddenly realize how much the people are suffering, and will it move him to transform into a more just, caring, empathetic Aegon 2.0? I, for one, dearly hope not, because Shallow Jerkface Aegon is fun, and I have no confidence that some future Noble, Kind, Triumphed-Over-Adversity Aegon will be the same.
Criston Cole, Gwayne Hightower and the rest of their motley band of Team Green soldiers arrive at Harrenhal, expecting to celebrate the fact that Aemond and Vhagar have finally shown up. They do find the ashes of the small contingent of the Black garrison Daemon left behind, but are informed by Alys Rivers that Aemond hightailed it back to Kings Landing because Rhaenyra has seized the throne.
This news leaves Gwayne feeling wry and Criston feeling mopey. So, if you're keeping notes, their respective statuses remain fully quo. Gwayne wants to head to Tumbleton to join Ormund, but Criston insists that they should take the few men they have and attack Daemon's riverlords before they can reach Kings Landing. Because the riverlords (who were joined by the Winter Wolves back in Episode 1, remember) now so outnumber their army, Criston's envisioning guerilla tactics, nighttime raids, anything to keep the battle man-to-man, instead of dragon-to-charcoal-briquette.
Back in Tumbleton, one of the Hightower soldiers assaults the family he's billeted with. When the matter is taken before Ormund, he sides with the family, using the incident as another high-minded object lesson for young Daeron. Hey, maybe Ormund isn't so bad! (Spoiler: Ormund is so, so bad you guys.)
Ulf claps (back)
Hugh asks Rhaenyra for permission to fly to the (Green-occupied) Tumbleton and keep watch, in case Aemond and Vhagar ever show up. His wife is living there now, you'll remember; this will surely be important later. Rhaenyra agrees, but orders him to split his duty with Ulf, who's spotted some anti-Rhaenyra graffiti on his way to Huzzah-it-up with his old drinking buddies in Kings Landing.
Later, Ulf goes to Rhaenyra to try and score some favors for those cronies, and we get a cute scene where Emma D'Arcy and Tom Bennett have a little fun bouncing off each other. Ulf is his usual Ulfish self, which Rhaenyra at first merely tolerates, but then she shuts him down, instructing him that he and his dragon are too valuable to the crown for him to be drinking in the streets.
Ulf is put out, and finds a typically obsequious, Ulfy way to needle Rhaenyra by mentioning the whole graffiti thing.
Orwyle tries to convince Rhaenyra that it doesn't matter if the High Septon refused to officially crown her — she's got all the trappings of power already, and anyway she can't move against the Faith of the Seven without having the faithful rise up in protest. There go the writers again, laying track, planting seeds.
Daemon heads to the Vale to ameliorate the crown's solvency problem (read: to cadge some gold). Lady Jeyne Arryn, bless her stiff, haughty britches, manages to out-snooty Daemon Targaryen, the O.G. snoot himself. It's really something to see. As they leave, Daemon's dragon Caraxes smells something on the wind, and they find the cave where Rhaena's holed up with Sheepstealer.
It's Father-Daughter Day in the Vale, with Rhaena asking Daemon not tell Rhaenyra that he found her, or that Rhaena was involved in the death of Jacaerys. She points out his shortcomings as a dad, which are profound and varied and manifold. He agrees, and has Caraxes air-fry a poor sheepherder to pass off as the guy who rode Sheepstealer into the Battle of the Gullet, which I'm sure will have no ramifications whatsoever, because keeping secrets from one's loved ones never does, in serialized fiction, and so this scene surely represents the end of this storyline forever.
Well, now it's a drop-leaf table
In Tumbleton, Ormund is mixing up a batch of personal potpourri when he gets news that Aemond has flown to Kings Landing and won't be providing Ormund's army any backup. He does not take it well, and there's a nice characterizing moment in which we learn that Daeron is a highly observant little dude who can read Ormund like a book — he sends a servant away before Ormund's tantrum can frighten or harm the kid. (The nicely appointed wooden pedestal table he's sitting at doesn't make it through unscathed, though — Ormund hacks away at it with his Valyrian steel blade, which is called Vigilance.) (Because calling it Petulance would be too on-the-nose.)
Back in Kings Landing, Rhaenyra's council has added Ser Torrhen the Oleaginous, Master of Coin (and Lickspittling) so said council once again officially qualifies as Small. Daemon sweeps in with the flame-broiled head of the poor sheepherder and passes it off as some rando who managed to ride a wild dragon, which has now disappeared.
There is some squabbling, and Rhaenrya rebukes Daemon for killing someone so impulsively, which is a bit like rebuking the sun for shining.
Rhaenrya returns Otto's signet ring to Alicent, and Alicent realizes that Helaena is pregnant with Aegon's child. It's a secret she has to keep if she wants to stay alive. If TV history is anything to go by, expect to see Helaena carrying around a big basket of laundry for the rest of the season.
Hugh arrives in Tumbleton and takes up a lonely vigil looking over the town, like a kind of hairy medieval Batman.
The Gold Cloaks scour the streets of Kings Landing, roughing up any potential taggers.
"Kill my boss? Do I Daeron live out the American dream?"
And in a small Tumbleton sept, Daeron is holed up with dragon Tessarion. Ormund shows up, dragging the citizen whose family got attacked by the Hightower soldier billeted with them.
And here's where Ormund delivers a little monologue that explains his worldview — and explains why, even though he's gotten a lot less screentime than other characters, James Norton is getting fourth billing in the credits.
Basically, Ormund is a Faith of the Seven guy, and as such he sees the Targaryens as evil, witchy, dragon-loving savages. He's raised Daeron so that the kid will one day reject his family and claim the throne. To cement their bond, he bids Daeron kill the poor Tumbletonian, which Daeron does, following some — it has to be said — pretty feeble protests.
Tessarion fires up the grill, and Ormund intones, "And now we begin," like he's the clueless senior management guy who waltzes into the group project that the team's been working on forever.
Which he ... really kind of is, if you think about it.
Parting thoughts
- Earlier in the episode, Orwyle informed Rhaenyra that Ormund wasn't in contact with Otto at all, so he must have been ruling Oldtown and the Reach like his own little kingdom. Feels like that's a seed that could've been planted earlier in the season, cause it bore fruit really fast.
- With this episode, Operation: Daeronwatch definitively concludes. Some of you knew what was up with him all the way back in the first episode of the season. Yeah, okay, well spotted, but because the show wanted to fake viewers out with last episode's Daeron decoy storyline, I didn't want to spoil it.
- Aemond and Vhagar have been MIA for two episodes now — and it doesn't take that long to fly from Harrenhal to King's Landing. So he's taken a detour — but to where?
- Ormund's out here in these streets trying to stage a full-on coup when his real skillset lies elsewhere; Westeros is, after all, a famously a stinky place that could really use some Yankee Candle shops. We learned last week that there's a candle shortage, so there's your canonical demand in need of some supplyin', and who better to do it than Oldtown's own pompous pious perfumed pretty boy?
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