Otto: [after learning Aegon and Ser Criston's plan to assassinate Rhaenyra] Instead of judgment, you display impetuousness, and diminish us in the eyes of our enemy! Ill-considered, trifling! Do you never think of your father? His forbearance? His judiciousness? His... his dignity.
Aegon: Fuck dignity! I want revenge. My father is dead.
Otto: He is, and we are the poorer for it. He was right about you.
Aegon: He made me King.
Otto: [laughs] Is that what you think?
Lord Jasper Wylde: The Blackwoods and the Brackens have feuded for centuries. This is nothing more than an excuse for them to indulge their ancient grudge. It's no true war.
Aegon: Call it what you will. I call it war. And so will Dragonstone.
Rhaenys: The young men have taken the bit in their teeth. They wish to punish, to avenge. Soon, they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place.
Rhaenyra: That is easy enough. They usurped my throne.
Rhaenys: That is one answer. Or was it when the child was beheaded? Or when Aemond killed Luke? Or when Luke took Aemond's eye? We teeter now at the point where none of it will matter. And the desire to kill and burn takes hold and reason is forgotten. There may be another way. Alicent Hightower.
Rhaenyra: When last we met, Alicent said I would make a fine queen. You've seen what has happened since then.
Rhaenys: She came to me in the hours after your lord father's death. She knows war is coming and that it'll be savage beyond all compare. There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin. And no war so bloody as a war between dragons.
Daemon: I'm claiming Harrenhal.
Ser Simon Strong: Apparently so. [walks over to Daemon and goes to one knee] I, Ser Simon Strong, castellan of Harrenhal, pledge fealty to Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, First of Her Name. I swear this by the old gods and the new. Supper is venison with black cabbage and peas. No redcurrant. Sorry about that.
Alys: [encountering Daemon in Harrenhal's godswood] You will die in this place.
Helaena: I feel sad about Jaehaerys. But I ought not to, I think. People die all the time, especially babes. They're so little, so they're taken so easily.
Alicent: Sadness is a condition of motherhood.
Helaena: There's naught to be gained from it. That horrid procession where the smallfolk all stared at me. I warrant they thought I had no more right to grief than they do. Surely they lose their babes more than highborn ladies.
Alicent: The Stranger comes for us all, queen and commoner. You have as much claim to grief as anyone.
Rhaenyra: We watched the tourney together, you and I, the day my brother was born. We knew, even then, that men trained up for battle are eager to fight, to seek blood and glory. But you are ... I know you do not have that desire within you. Rhaenys has counseled me. She said she saw in you a wish to avert the worst of what may now come.
Alicent: So, you've come to surrender then?
Rhaenyra: I have come to see if we may uncover some path towards peace. My dragons are restless. They smell battle. But if you and I may come to terms...
Alicent: There are no terms now. You have no army, your allies turn from you when they hear of your depravity, your hands are bloodied in a crime I could never have imagined you...
Rhaenyra: The trespass was not mine. Think what you will. I am a mother, too, and you have yet to answer for the murder of my son.
Alicent: I repudiate that act with all my heart.
Rhaenyra: Of course, you do. And the usurping of my rightful inheritance? Have you now stooped so low that you will countenance the suffering and death of thousands in order that your feckless son...
Alicent: Your father changed his mind.
Rhaenyra: Oh, so you say. And so your father has proclaimed to the realm. I saw the king that night. Mere hours before I left him, he had affirmed my right to the throne. A right he upheld steadfastly every day of his life after my mother died. And yet, you will maintain that his mind was changed in an instant?
Alicent: I will.
Rhaenyra: You lie.
Alicent: No, Rhaenyra.
Rhaenyra: My father loved me, Alicent, and I believe he loved you, too. Did you betray him at the very last? When was your plan first laid? Was your ambition so keen...
Alicent: He changed his mind, Rhaenyra! He changed his mind. I swear this to you on the memory of my mother. I have been, at times, unkind, but never untrue. I pronounced before all gathered in that room that you would make a fine queen. Do you think me capable of such naked deceit?
Aegon: [after hearing about Aemond's secret dialogue with Cole] The two of you have been plotting without my authority?
Aemond: [in High Valyrian] You had more pressing matters to attend to. Such as holding court, choosing your sobriquet, and naming imbecilic lickspittles to our Kingsguard. Do you have a wiser strategy, my king? If so, you should voice it to your council. We all await your answer.
Larys: If I may be so bold, my Queen, you have not seemed yourself of late.
Alicent: Only weeks ago, my lord husband was alive, and the realm was at peace. Now, I've barely had the hours to grieve one tragedy before suffering the next. I regret if I have not been myself.
Larys: Hmmm. [examines several books on the table between them] I did not know you shared your lord husband's love for the histories.
Alicent: If not his love, certainly an abiding interest. The voices of history guided Viserys. He knew his wisdom could only reach so far.
Larys: Do you think that is why he changed his mind, in the end? No matter how suited he thought Rhaenyra for the crown, the, uh, voices of history, as you say, would have told him how the realm would react to her succession.
Alicent: It was impossible to know what steered his thoughts in those final hours.
Larys: Do you now doubt his intentions?
Alicent: Rhaenyra's supporters will believe what they wish, and so will Aegon's. The war will be fought, many will die, and the victor will eventually ascend the throne. The significance of Viserys's intentions died with him.
Daemon: You are a strange kind of woman.
Alys: I'm no woman at all. I'm a barn owl, cursed to live in human form.
Ser Alfred Broome: An enemy host, growing in constitution, marches somewhere, in the vastness of the Crownlands. We could, perhaps, act if we had a host of our own. Or someone here to lead us.
Jace: Mind your tongue, Ser Alfred.
Ser Alfred Broome: Does it speak falsely, my prince? This council is rudderless.
Rhaenys: I'm doing my best to steer it, Ser Alfred.
Ser Alfred Broome: Why should your voice be any louder than ours, Princess? The Queen did not name you Hand. It is her voice, and that of the King Consort, that we need to raise alliances and command our vassals. But they are gone.
Corlys: What has come of this council?
Ser Alfred Broome: My lord...
Corlys: Our enemy is on the march. Is there naught to be done in the absence of the queen, but to grouse and claw for power? We do not know the queen's doings. But we must trust that she seeks the same as each of us at this table. An end to this conflict.
Alicent: It was my hope that once enthroned, you would honor the burden of your new duties, be silent, and strive to learn from the more studied minds around you. In the hope that you might be half the king your father was.
Aegon: Tread carefully.
Alicent: Or what? You'll hang me, as you did your ratcatchers? Or have me banished, as you did your Hand? I ruled in your father's absence throughout his long illness, and Otto Hightower was as cunning a statesman as ever lived. You should humbly be seeking our opinions and counsel. You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne.
Aegon: What would you have me do, Mother?
Alicent: Do simply what is needed of you. Nothing.
Criston: [to the Green host] On your feet! To Rook's Rest! To battle!
Gwayne: [to Criston] It's broad daylight! We must hold here and ready ourselves to lay siege at nightfall.
Criston: We shall move now and strike by day, they will not expect it.
Gwayne: They will not expect it because it is fucking madness. Did you forget the little encounter we had on the road to Rosby?
Criston: I did not.
Gwayne: Dragonstone and their dragons are just across the bay. What? Grown tired of living, have you?
Criston: Are you afraid, Ser?
Gwayne: Worse. I'm rational.
Criston: We advance.
Rhaenyra: Do you take issue with me, Ser Alfred?
Ser Alfred Broome: My loyalty to you is proven, my queen.
Rhaenyra: Your loyalty, perhaps, but not your willingness to give me deference in a time of war.
Ser Alfred Broome: I could never doubt your capability, or your quickness of mind. It is merely that the gentler sex, heretofore, has not been much privy to the strategies of battle, or their execution.
Rhaenyra: There has been peace in our lifetime. You've seen no more battles than I have.
Daemon: I came here to raise swords, not corpses.
Lord Willem Blackwood: But now you see what my house has known for generations. They are pigheaded, intransigent. They would rather burn than succumb.
Daemon: Exactly the kind of men I need. It may yet be possible, I think, for both of us to achieve our ends.
Lord Willem Blackwood: We have fought them for an age and more.
Daemon: Then perhaps you could try less fighting and more persuading.
Lord Willem Blackwood: They are unyielding in battle. But every man has a weakness.
Daemon: You take my meaning, then. There are things the Crown itself must not been seen to do. Show them your worst.