S3E1: Queen's Landing — Natalie Bochenski

KITTENS.

Over the past 10 months, I’ve been training weekly with a PT to improve my strength. I have no lofty goals beyond “when I fall over, can I pull myself up?”, but at the end of May I hit a 100-kilogram one-rep max on my deadlift.

A month of pestering lurgy followed, so it was only last week that I attempted that number again, and while I made the lift, for some reason my right side struggled. I told my PT Tom, a huge ginger natural bodybuilder who posts almost uncomfortable ripped photos of himself on Instagram, that I wanted to try a second, and he sneakily snuck 1.25kg plates on either side of the bar.

Reader, I got that damn thing up. But it felt an extra 20 kilos, not 2.5.

I touched that new PB… but it was not clean.

That same thought flooded my brain as Rhaenyra stepped her bloody, unsteady way up to the Iron Throne.

Goal achieved… but it was not clean.

Now far be it for me to compare my attempt at fitness to an all-out fantasy capital city invasion, but one thing they do have in common is … the weight.

Rhaenyra’s awkward seat on the royal chair, with every one of those thousand pointy blades poking into flesh already tendered by the loss of two sons, got no softer.

For the chickens who had attempted to fly the coup, Alicent and Helaena, were brought as captives before the new Queen, only to find themselves ankle deep in unexpected family blood.

In the gap left by Aegon’s flight, Rhaenyra had needed something to seal the deal as she wedded herself to Westeros.

Something bold, something seen… and someone offered someone Green.

Yes, Otto Hightower, who high-tailed it out of King’s Landing somewhere in season 2, but was last seen briefly captured in a cell somewhere looking confused. I’d assumed he’d been caught by a Rhaenyra loyalist, but oh my god! I was wrong! It was Strong all along.

Lord Foot Fetish did a neat two-step - fleeing the capital with Aegon to secure a hold there while simultaneously leaving Otto locked up as a revenge dish best served cold to Daemon should the Blacks take the Red Keep.

If I may get a bit biblical for this week’s theme and paraphrase Job 14:4: “Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? Not one.”

Believe me, I’ve been Team Black, I want Rhaenyra to sit the throne. But much like me and my deadlifts, I didn’t want her to get it with a dirty rep.

S3E2: Queen’s Landing

There were four or five - or seven or eight, I’ve lost track - moments in this episode that I expected an Emmy to be shoved into shot right under Emma D’arcy’s face, such was the ferocity of her performance.

It was one heartbreaking thing to see poor Baela carrying Jace’s corpse home on Moondancer (wisely done on skipping the body retrieval scene, one imagines it would have been clumsy and undignified in the last gasps of the Battle of the Gullet), another to see him lifted onto the shoulders of attendants face down then slowly turned blue face up, and still another to see Baela confirm the battle was won with the least amount of conviction since Liberace declared he just wanted to marry a nice girl.

But all that paled as Rhaenyra burned in anger and grief at the loss of her firstborn son, her heir and legacy.

“What have you done?” she rails at the body, demanding it sit up and explain its actions going into war. To begin with, she cannot even bring herself to touch him, as if not wanting to confirm the absence of life.

Eventually she gives in, smashing his chest and scooping up the horribly limp former prince and giving into sobs so heavy once could almost picture dragonfire erupting from her own face.

“How could you do this me?” is perhaps the most honest expression for a grieving mother. Sure, Jace disobeyed her orders and upended her plans for the succession. But he also left her to live on, a mother who loved her child now left without that child. He doesn’t have to bear that; she does. How could you indeed, Jace?

It was a nice touch in all her fury to spare the life of the Queensguard Jace mind-melded into locking Rhaenyra into her room. As he pulled her off Jace I thought for sure he was a goner. Don’t interrupt a Targaryen mid-grieve, dude.

But Rhaenyra acknowledges letting him forfeit his life wouldn’t do anything to bring Jace back. She blasts the whole room for standing by and letting Jace fly off when they all knew he was on a leash, accusing them of betraying their Queen, but knows there’s no point in physical retribution.

It’s a natural restraint that will come back to help or hinder her later in this episode, depending on your perspective.

Let us take a brief detour now to cover some other character movements before re-setting our sights on King’s Landing.

Rhaena, having royally f***ed up her grand debut on Sheepstealer, has returned to the Vale in a panic. She fears her stepmother/aunt’s wrath, and begs Jeyne Arryn for asylum. The Lady of the Vale is not impressed. Rhaena was supposed to be on a ship for Pentos, protecting the younger Targaryen heirs, not flying off on madcap wild dragon adventures.

Rhaena attempts one desperate move - promising to use Sheepstealer to protect the Vale. After all Lady Arryn had demanded a dragon for her lands and been justifiably annoyed when all she got were the little babies that accompanied Rhaenyra’s younger kids.

But it’s not enough to sway her, and she essentially tells Rhaena she made her dragon bed, and now she can lie in it. At least Sheepstealer has the grace to look like he’s going to stick by Rhaena.

We later hear Rhaenyra theorise to Daemon that perhaps the Greens camp had managed to take control of Sheepstealer so Rhaena’s theory that nobody knows it was her seems legit. Jace saw her, of course, but Rhaena knows that’s of no consequence now. She’ll likely also fear her sister’s opinion, and one imagines it won’t take long for them to find out - surely Lady Arryn will huff her way back inside the Eyrie and fire off an explainer raven to Dragonstone immediately.

Speaking of ravens, Aegon and Larys are still inside the Toyota RAV(en)4, somewhere north of King’s Landing. Aegon appears to have detoxed, but isn’t giving Larys the credit for that or saving their lives with his surrender last episode. Foot Fetish says they’re at least heading in the right direction, but Aegon isn’t keen to be dragged in front of Rhaenyra’s “gloating f***ing court of c***s” which I need to put in my repertoire of everyday sayings.

But then the Black loyalist group that captured them is set upon by… well, I’m not sure who by. Ruffians? Hooligans? Scallywags?

Either way it’s enough to make a cranky Aegon rip an arrow out of a dude’s torso then use it to stab another dude, while Larys rescues the crown and tries to convince the robbin’ hood to retreat to the forest. Aegon though seems set on returning to Rook’s Rest, the site of his unfortunate de-penistration. Maybe he’s hoping to find it still out there, somewhere.

And now let us put on our party hats and celebrate with Daemon Targaryen’s POST-BATTLE DRINKING GAME AND KARAOKE NIGHT!

Not since (well technically until) Lyonel Baratheon sang about poor Alice making a living shoving her three fingers into delicate areas in A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms have we seen such carousing - which also referenced things being inserted into fundamental orifices, namely Aemond’s dragon.

It’s a real tag team effort too, with everyone sharing lines appropriately. I wish I could see the scene before this one, in which they all sat down to nut out the metre, road test the lyrical insults, dish out the vocal arrangement and then work out the choreo with the decapitated head of Jason Lannister.

Let’s say hello to an old friend - it’s Sir Simon as Ser Simon! Yes, Sir Simon Russell Beale is back as the Castellan of Harrenhal, on scene to celebrate victory over the Lannisters with all its attendant music and meat and virile young men. Daemon questions which of these three he is particularly drawn to, but Ser Simon seeks only to offer a butt… of wine.

Old mate in charge of the Winter Wolves is delighted by the extra booze, but revelries soon die off as Daemon reads a message from Rhaenyra informing him that Jace recently did just that.

Keeping any deeper emotions to himself, he barks out clear orders for the Rivermen and Northmen to march south towards King’s Landing, which Rhaenyra plans to take. He orders a garrison of men be left at Harrenhal, and tells Oscar Tully not to let anyone stand against them. “We will be the Queen’s fist,” he declares, toasts to victory in the capital and the day they meet again.

Also having a big swig is Caraxes, cooling off in what we can assume is the River Trident and getting in his eight hundred cups a day.

Somehow Alys Rivers is there, because of course she is, because she’s everywhere. Daemon tries to suggest she’s not had much hand in recent events, but the witch begs to differ. She’s the one who orchestrated the Tullys’ loyalty to Rhaenyra, and in a way, Daemon’s own. Girlfriend wants her due reward: Harrenhal itself.

She’s right when she says no one has ever cherished Harrenhal. A gothling like her would actually really enjoy living in such a cursed and leaky place.

Daemon is amused by her chutzpah but says she doesn’t have the status to deserve it. But Alys says monetary rewards won’t feed her hunger, and tells Daemon never to come back. “Remember what I told you,” she says. I’m going to have to go check last season’s recaps, because I can’t remember what she told him. I assume nothing good.

Before we follow Daemon’s adventures south towards victory, this might be a good place to summarise what happens next at Harrenhal.

And that is… Vhagar and Aemond show up.

Christon Cole and his men, packing up their chillzone campsite, see the great dragon first. Aemond has not come for a social call, and Vhagar quickly strafes the encampment outside the castle walls (one assumes this is not Cole’s camp, rather the Strong garrison).

Vhagar then smashes into the higher portion of the edifice and vomits fire throughout the dank terraces. Guards flame out or crash out as Aemond stalks the hall, striking down any challenger.

He then opens the door to the main chamber to see Ser Simon and his sons enjoying a meal.

It’s a brilliant upstaging and upstaking of Daemon’s entrance into Harrenhal last season. Daemon arrived on his dragon, but did not engage “destruction” mode.

Daemon and Aemond - their names, much like their position as second sons, differentiated only by placement of a d - are these weird mirror images of each other. They are enantiomorphs, which is a ten dollar word that I think just means fun house versions of each other.

Ser Simon, ever the diplomat, surrenders calmly to Aemond, and tries to embrace the deranged psycho in the hope of not being stabbed in the back. It doesn’t work, because Aemond simply stabs him in the front instead.

Noooo, not Sir Simon as Ser Simon! He was a sweetheart. A cunning one to be sure, but with a sassy tongue we loved to see unleashed. He was a damn sight more loveable than 80 per cent of the rest of the cast. Pour one out for him.

His sons attempt to strike Aemond down, but he overpowers them quickly. Except - one of them manages to pierce a gap in his armour and slide a blade into Aemond’s lower back. Aemond starts to fall and crawl along the ground, only to wind up at the feet of… Alys Rivers. “Help me!” he moans, collapsing in frankly well-deserved pain.

Once again we can reflect on the mirrored journey with Daemon. One imagines this is not Aemond’s immediate end, so can we expect to see him take his own magical mind-bending journey courtesy of Alys’ spooky powers? I mean if we all end in the ocean, and we all start in the streams, are Daemon and Aemond both carried along by the Alys River of Dreams?

Oh ye gods… they’re not going to… *retch*... get it on, are they? Tell me Alys isn’t so desperate to run Harrenhal that she’d do a deal to save Aemond’s life in return for the keys?

Either way it’s certainly the most exposed Aemond’s been since he got his kit off in a brothel last season.

Speaking of getting one’s kit off - let’s give it up for some FULL FRONTAL MALE NUDITY!

It’s only fair that in this time of World Cup football, we get a locker room scene.

Back in King’s Landing, Alicent is preparing for the Rhae-vasion she knows is coming, which means she has to convince the city watch not at any point attempt to defend the capital. She does this by marching into their locker room and showing absolutely no acknowledgment of all the knobs hanging out. Boss move from the Lean-In Queen.

Kittens, I have been trying to search for still images of this scene online, and I cannot for the life of me track any down. I used the phrase “Naked Gold Cloaks” and this is the best I got:

*I mean, if you squint, you can kind of see it.*

I will also admit that in my search for this imagery, I came across a sour and tongue-cluckingly sanctimonious article declaring it as continuing Game of Thrones’ “meaningless nudity problem”.

UGH. Scolds, can you please just let me enjoy my rare, conveniently situationally-appropriate full frontal male nudity? Is there nothing else for you to moan about? Haven’t you seen the cost of groceries?

This is no reflection on the gentlemen whose assets featured in the scene, but it really was blink and you’ll miss it stuff. And sure, I have a pause button, but the HBO digital backend whirlygigs still won’t allow me to screencap. I work hard for my soft-core imagery. It’s not like I can just search “full frontal male nudity” on the internet and get a result.

Alicent then drags Helaena away from a cool new out-of-season bug she’s just found and heads to the battlements to order some helmeted warriors to stand down (no, not that kind).

They’ve been instructed to fire their scorpions at any dragon that isn’t Vhagar, but Alicent seems quite effective at convincing them that allowing a peaceful takeover will be preferable to being burned alive. Although Helaena’s simply entreaty that as Queen she would not have any beast harmed was charming too. So far, full points to Alicent for actually delivering on her promises to Rhaenyra. Can her girlhood bestie keep up her end of the bargain?

Let’s dash back to Dragonstone where Daemon has landed with aplomb and a stinging rebuke to Ulf’s face. He and Hugh were trying to explain why they’d only lasted a few days on the Isle of Faces due to its inherent creepiness, and justify disobeying orders by the fact that they helped finish off enemy forces in the Gullet.

Of course we see the consequence of leaving Harrenhal undefended, so Daemon was right to slug Ulf’s mug.

He heads towards Rhaenyra’s chambers and encounters his old paramour turned enemy, Magical Mysaria Tour.

It’s odd, isn’t it, seeing these former lovers try to figure out what’s best for their mutual new love (although Daemon probably doesn’t know about the ladies’ liplock last season). Daemon still thinks MMT is playing a game, but seems to feel some sympatico with her over Rhaenyra’s stubborn desire to still trust Alicent, her childhood friend.

Psychological profiling has to wait though, because the maester brings news of Aemond and Vhagar leaving King’s Landing, meaning the time to strike is upon them.

Daemon finds Rhaenyra bedrotting, and tries to find solace in the fact Jace died fighting for his queen, something he wanted to do. “He defied me,” Rhaenyra says. “That is what sons do,” Daemon responds, neatly explaining manosphere podcasters in a sentence.

There’s a tender moment where Rhaenyra questions what is the point of even sitting on the Iron Throne, when it has cost her two little boys who used to hide their faces in her skirts.

This self-reflection reflects well on her. To paraphrase Oscar Wilde, “to lose one child may be a misfortune, to lose two looks like carelessness”.

*As good a reason as any to RIP the great Penelope Keith.*

Of course Daemon is cut-glass clear on not letting emotion cloud the mission. “Will you let them die in vain?” he asks, before launching into High Valyrian to tell Rhaenyra that his visit to Harrenhal left him with visions of the wars yet to come, and that girl with silver hair in a desert far away.

High Valyrian has always been the language of intimacy between this married uncle and niece, so it’s no accident that Daemon employs it to both soothe Rhaenyra, and refocus her on the bigger prize.

And so, it begins.

There’s stunning CGI and cinematography showing Syrax, Caraxes, Vermithor and Silverwing flying out from Dragonstone to the capital, circling overhead as soldiers holster the giant scorpions.

Ulf and Hugh land outside the Red Keep to keep watch over the populace.

Rhaenyra and Daemon hit the fortress courtyard, met by attendants bowing meekly as Rhaenyra marvels at Alicent’s kept promise.

“The true test is within,” shoots back Daemon, as Rhaenyra urges the staff not to be afraid, that she’s come to make things right.

Now Rhaenyra is not a trained fighter, but Daemon? He’s chuffed to bits. His witchy dreams, inspired by Alys Rivers, have given him either complete clarity on the mission ahead or just reinvigorated his love of slaughter.

Daemon easily cuts down dudes in the lobby, yelling “Who else dares rise against us in our house?” before dramatically retrieving his sword from a guard’s chest, where the counterweight had been keeping him on his knees.

If I may indulge in some early-90s parody love, I couldn’t help but think of the “Bloodiest Movie Ever” counter from Hot Shots! Part Deux:

There’s a beautiful moment where he grabs Rhaenyra’s hand as she enters the throne room, the ultimate “You got this, babe”. He then stands back and lets her walk first, because he’s now a Wife Guy.

Unfortunately a bunch of Green guards hustle out of the shadows in front of the Iron Throne, forcing Daemon back in front of his Queen, sword drawn. “You are brazen or thick,” the one Kingsguard among them shoots at Daemon. “I suppose that depends on whether I win or lose,” Daemon counters with a cheeky grin.

Rhaenyra draws her sword too, committed to dying while fighting if needs be. But hark! Footsteps!

It was a tricky situation to be in, with Daemon and Rhaenyra both trying to watch the guards in front of them and turn to see who was coming in behind them.

The Gold Cloaks! Sadly fully clothed!

The blondies look surrounded, but Daemon greets Ser Luthor with a canny “Well met” and the Gold Cloaks throw in their lot with Rhaenyra.

The Green guards throw down their swords, the remaining white cloak is hurried off, and Ser Luthor remembers how Daemon personally gave him his gold cloak 20 years before. 20 years! Lordy. I think back to 2006 and it feels like just a little while ago, but also impossibly ancient and innocent. Remember George W. Bush? He seems so quaint now.

But there’s no time for nostalgia as Rhaenyra demands Aegon the Usurper be brought to her before she ascends the throne.

Daemon and the Gold Cloaks scour the Red Keep, but find only Grand Maester Orwyle. He begs for his life, pledging fealty to Rhaenyra and offering up Lord Jasper Wylde instead. Down into the Black Cells they go, with Jasper bitterly blaming Alicent for the betrayal.

But a jailkeeper interrupts to offer a gift from Lord Larys Strong, kept in the pitch dark until Daemon returned. The prince sees the prisoner before we do and lets out a mighty chuckle.

Meanwhile, Rhaenyra has started a receiving line in the throne room. This is the glossy PR side of conquest, gaining hearts and minds immediately.

But then Daemon marches in his “gift” - Otto Hightower. He is the replacement for Aegon, and frankly, he’s ready to go. It’s a certain kind of swagger that allows you to be marched into the throne room as a prisoner but still somehow be the most high status dude in the room. “Just get it over with,” he sighs, an unbothered king.

“They’re watching,” advises Daemon. “If you wish to rule show them you do not waiver.”

“I don’t know if I can,” chokes Rhaenyra.

Otto pleads for Daemon to do the deed to spare him getting hacked worse than British royals by the tabloid press. Daemon draws his sword, but hands it to his wife.

Despite his less than advantageous position, Otto tuts as only Otto can.

“If your daddy could see you now…”

Rhaenyra spits “Speak no more!” at him, before Daemon whispers “In this moment, you will become Queen.”

It is a bloody inheritance, to be sure, proved when Rhaenyra fails to sever Otto’s head on the first strike, just as he says “I did my best-”

Tears and snot pour from Rhaenyra’s traumatised face as the audience gasp. But oh no, no, no - the blade has stuck.

*“Oh gods, I’ve totally Mary Queen of Scots’d this”*

Rhaenyra wrenches the sword from Otto’s neck and swings again. This time the former Hand loses his Head, which blinks into oblivion.

Daemon, proud despite the general vibe of horror, reclaims his blade and neatly lops off Ser Jasper’s bonce.

Rhaenyra squelches her way out of the blood pouring from Otto’s neck, and finally makes her way to the prize - the big pointy chair. She takes some deep breaths and tries to regain her queenly composure. She’s fought for this, after all. She’s earned it. It’s hers by right. By birth. By prophecy. She deserves to be there.

And then Alicent and Heleana are brought in, having failed to flee the city in their somewhat obvious rich green clothing.

Alicent’s eyes slowly move from her father’s severed head up to her once treasured friend, and it’s a marvellous “uh-oh” expression from Olivia Cooke.

Rhaenyra though is struggling with some strong emotions. She cannot stop tears of grief coming for what she has done to her frenemy, but also is resolute that she is where she is supposed to be - even if less comfortably so that perhaps she’d hoped.

Oh kittens, I saw so many future echoes in these closing moments of the episode.

Remember when Arya Stark’s direwolf Nymeria attacked Prince Joffrey and ran off, and to get justice, Cersei demanded Sansa’s direwolf Lady be killed instead?

Otto’s death was that on a more epic scale.

They share none of the same character traits, but Otto Hightower’s head could also very well be Ned Stark’s, in terms of what goodwill Rhaenyra has just torn up.

Alicent may not have liked her children much, but she can’t escape the psychological hold her father had on her. She might be able to distance herself from an Oedipus complex, but her own Electra complex has been around much longer. It is likely she will do more to avenge him than she would to protect any of her bairns?

Rhaenyra may be victorious, but nothing about it was happy and glorious.

Finally, let us have another song parody, this time from Daemon’s point of view. After just one scene last week, he was the MVP here, moving action and people along and having the best time doing so.

Surely Daemon would feel a natural affinity for a band called “The Clash”, so here we are kittens, doing some PUNK wordplay on London/Landing Calling:

Landing calling to the faraway towns
Now war is declared, and dragons come down
Landing calling and like thunder whirled
Come out of the castle, you boys and girls
Landing calling, now you look to us
Phoney Aegonmania has bitten the dust
Landing calling, see we got all the wing
And you’ll kiss the ring of this consort king

The Jace age ain’t coming, the son’s doomed again
Witch gave me visions, now I must follow them
She may feel mercy but I have no fear
Queen’s Landing is calling and I
Live for Rhaenyra

Landing calling, to the emigration zone
I told Ulf and Hugh don’t you go it alone
Landing calling, so you must embrace death
Blood will have blood, call me Lady Macbeth

Landing calling, and I don’t wanna shout
But when I brought in Otto, I saw you having doubt
Landing calling, see the tower ain’t so high
With Aegon now fled, you must knobble this guy

The winter is coming, the dark zooming in
Two hundred years’ hence, white walkers could win
You might feel nervous but I have no fear
Queen’s Landing is calling and I
I’ll kill for Rhaenyra

(Ah, ah, ah ohhhhhh in Caraxes squeak)

The nice guy ain’t coming, I’m done with the spin
The White Worm can shove it, there’s thrones of games to win
My wife is grieving, but I have no fear
Queen’s Landing is calling and I,
I’ll crown my Rhaenyra!

(Ah, ah, ah ohhhhhh in Caraxes squeak)

Now get this...

Landing calling, yes, I am here too
And you know those Green men? Well, I ran them all through!
Landing calling, now you’re top of the pile
After all this, won’t you give me a smile?
Landing calling

I never felt so much alike alike alike alike…

Yay! Best Moments

For sentimental reasons, I’m putting the entire Velaryon family reunion here.

How Corlys survived being thrown into the shallows of the Gullet in full armour, washing up unconscious on a beach, and somehow being found by either one bastard son on foot or one in the air… look, let’s not quibble. He survived, and that’s what’s important.

Watching his ancestral seat of High Tide burn seems to have engendered a change of heart too. “I have nothing to give you now,” Corlys almost jauntily tells Alyn. “Except my name.”

“And yet it is worth more to me than a mountain of gold,” replies the somehow blanket-clad sailor.

NAWWWW. Baela had had a lovely conversation with Alyn about his Dad, her Granddad. Despite his reservations about the Sea Snake, and his general pissy-ness about the whole illegitimacy thing, Alyn had loyally gone out first with a search and rescue row boat, then gone ashore to pick over carcasses and detritus alone. Hardly the actions of a cold-hearted bastard.

Baela turns up with a welcome flagon of water (or ale, who knows) and clearly wants Alyn to know that he was a proud man but not an unkind one. Adddam, meanwhile, does Sea Smoke shore sweeps by the sea shore.

So there they all were, sitting on rocks, watching the smoke spiral off Driftmark. “If this is victory, I’d hate to see defeat,” Corlys muses, picking seaweed out of his dreads.

I did have the thought - come on guys, the Triarchy can’t have done THAT much damage, surely you could at least do a dragon flyover to see what could be retaken or repaired? Also they can’t have killed EVERYONE on Driftmark, maybe pop over and see if there’s some widows and orphans who need sorting before you rejoin Rhaenyra’s cause?

But maybe Lord Corlys realised this lucky escape might be his last, so why not take the chance to legitimise some heirs before his luck runs out? After all, Rhaenys and Laena and Laenor are no longer there to take offence at his betrayal of vows; Baela seems fine with him finding some actual sea dogs to hang with (she’s a Targaryen, remember), so he may as well peace out on his beach shack and make new memories.

Zing! Best Lines

Dear, sweet, freaky girl Helaena. She’s the one child Alicent is trying to save, along with her own daughter Jaehaera. And Helaena could live very happily not being the Queen.

This charming moment of course had me thinking back to the Hound’s passion for chickens:

And it made me seek out an image generator to see if I could create a suitable banner for a fellow “Mother of”:

Ew, gross

What are our thoughts on Lord Jasper Wylde’s bedchamber assault on Alicent?

It did rather come out of the blue - I can’t recall any previous incident of the unfortunately nicknamed “Ironrod” having designs on the Queen Mother, but perhaps I’m forgetting something from last season.

He certainly knows about Ser Christon Cole’s frequent nocturnal visits, but also calls out Alicent’s conspiring nature, and charges her with treason over her aforementioned secret visit to the Gold Cloaks. He creepily tries to get her to beg, which is a power move we didn’t need, before physically overpowering her on the floor.

Luckily Grand Maester Orwyle, who blessedly remains mostly pure of heart, bursts in and holds no truck with Ironrod’s excuse that as Master of Laws he was simply arresting a traitor.

Of course Ironrod proceeds to have his head snicked off joyfully by Daemon, so his Wylde times are over. Perhaps this scene was to give the actor a big final moment, so we could celebrate his demise?

As you know kittens, I’m not the type to get automatically riled up about any depiction of sexual assault in drama. It’s a very real threat and reality for women today, let alone in history - and yes, in this type of fantasy. Sadly some men watching might take the wrong message from these sorts of scenes, but I don’t know if that’s reason enough to eschew them altogether.

The better criticism here may be that the purpose behind the scene was somewhat wishy-washy. Alicent was already motivated to get the hell out of dodge, I’m not sure this attack would have strengthened that resolve any more.

Boo, sucks

What, no James Norton this week? Not even a glimpse of him, possibly having a sponge bath to stay nice and hygienic? In an episode full of unclean decisions and right bloody messes, it would have been nice to check in with someone who sees the world in Spray and Wipe.

Thank you so much for reading, kittens! Remember you can find my Patreon here should you wish to support this writing. A huge thank you to my wonderful existing subscribers - I couldn’t do it without you.