Game of Thrones Page #4

16.

VISERYS:

He could be useful.

Illyrio places his hand on Daenerys’ bare shoulder.

ILLYRIO:

Over there, sweet princess. There

is the Khal himself.

KHAL DROGO (30) is the tallest man in the courtyard, but

despite his size and musculature, he has the grace of a

panther. His black hair is woven into a single braid, hung

with silver bells, that swings below his belt.

Illyrio walks over to the Khal (a dozen yards away). Viserys

leans closer to his sister, never taking his eyes off Drogo.

VISERYS:

You see how long his hair is? When

Dothraki are defeated in combat,

they cut off their braids in

disgrace, so the world will know

their shame. Khal Drogo has never

been defeated. A savage, of course,

but one of the finest killers

alive. And you will be his queen.

Daenerys stares at the Khal. The man’s face is hard and

cruel, his eyes dark as onyx as he watches Illyrio perform

his submissions.

DAENERYS:

(her voice small and thin)

I don’t want to be his queen.

Please, please, I don’t want to, I

want to go home.

Viserys maintains a mask of politeness and keeps his voice

low, but there is fury behind his eyes.

VISERYS:

Home? How do we go home? They took

it from us.

He grabs her arm and drags her into the shadows, his

fingernails digging into her.

VISERYS:

How do we go home?

Tears well in her eyes.

17.

DAENERYS:

I don’t know.

VISERYS:

I do. We go home with an army. With

Khal Drogo’s army.

He brushes her cheek with the back of his hand and speaks to

her with real tenderness.

VISERYS:

I’d let his whole khalasar f***

you, all forty thousand men and

their horses too, if that’s what it

took. Come, dry your eyes.

Dany wipes away the unfallen tears. Illyrio, all smiles and

bows, escorts Khal Drogo toward them.

VISERYS:

(nervous whisper)

Smile. And stand up straight. Let

him see that you have breasts. Gods

know, they’re small enough as is.

Dany smiles and stands up straight.

EXT. KING’S LANDING - DAY

The walled city of King’s Landing, capital of Westeros. The

royal castle, the Red Keep, built of red sandstone, perches

on the cliffs above Blackwater Bay. The seven-towered Great

Sept of Baelor rises on the south edge of the city. In

between sprawls the fetid slum called Flea Bottom.

We PULL IN closer to the Red Keep, to a window near the top

of the Tower of the Hand.

INT. BEDCHAMBER - DAY

JON ARRYN (60s), cold and still, lies on his deathbed.

Two SILENT SISTERS, veiled adherents to the Faith of the

Seven, fold his hands across his chest and close his eyelids.

GRAND MAESTER PYCELLE (70s) stands beside them. He wears a

heavy chain around his neck, each link forged with a

different metal.

Beside him is QUEEN CERSEI (30s). Green-eyed and golden-

haired, the queen’s beauty has already become legend. Both

look down at Jon Arryn.

18.

PYCELLE:

I gave him milk of the poppy at the

end. To ease his path.

Cersei touches the old Maester’s arm in thanks.

CERSEI:

We are blessed to have a man of

your wisdom caring for us.

The old Maester is not too old to appreciate a little

flattery, or the touch of a beautiful woman.

CERSEI:

He was peaceful, in his final

hours?

PYCELLE:

Mostly he slept, my Grace. Though

he had moments of clarity.

CERSEI:

Did he? What did he say, in these

moments of clarity?

PYCELLE:

He asked to see the King-

CERSEI:

Robert will never forgive himself

for not being here. These hunts of

his last longer and longer.

PYCELLE:

And he asked to see Lord Stark.

CERSEI:

A shame Lord Stark is a thousand

leagues away. That was all?

PYCELLE:

Yes... No. There was a phrase, one

phrase he kept repeating. “The seed

is strong.”

Cersei focuses her green eyes on the Maester.

CERSEI:

The seed is strong? What does that

mean?

19.

PYCELLE:

(shrugs)

The dying mind is a demented mind.

For all the weight they’re given,

last words usually have as much

significance as first words.

CERSEI:

Where is the Hand’s wife?

PYCELLE:

Lady Arryn left the moment he

breathed his last.

Cersei turns and heads for the door.

CERSEI:

Send a raven to Casterly Rock. My

father should know Jon Arryn is

dead.

PYCELLE:

At once, my Grace.

Cersei exits the bedchamber. Pycelle watches the Sisters

perform their ritual ablutions, imagining, perhaps, the not-

too-distant day when they will minister to his own corpse.

EXT. FLEA BOTTOM - NIGHT

The most dangerous neighborhood in the kingdom. DRUNKS spill

out of doorways of taverns lit with oil lamps, singing:

DRUNKS:

She kicked and wailed, the maid so

fair, but he licked the honey from

her hair, her hair! Her hair!

INT. BROTHEL - NIGHT

Outside we hear the sounds of rough laughter and singing. The

room is expensively appointed in silks, damasks and gilded

ornaments, but its garishness betrays its true nature.

That, and the naked REDHEADED WHORE on her knees beside the

bed. She bestows oral favors upon TYRION LANNISTER, a dwarf

with mismatched eyes: one green, one black.

Tyrion’s hands grip her hair as he shudders. Bells begin to

ring outside, thousands of them, great pealing bells from all

across the city.

20.

The Redhead, finished with her work, wipes her mouth with the

back of her hand.

REDHEAD:

Who they ringing the bells for?

TYRION:

The King’s Hand died this morning.

Tyrion grabs a goblet of wine from the bedside table. He

swigs and passes it to the whore. She raises it in toast.

REDHEAD:

Here’s to Jon Arryn, then. He was

the only one of you lot who cared

about the smallfolk.

She drinks deeply, sloshing the wine around her mouth.

TYRION:

I care about the smallfolk.

REDHEAD:

Only the ones with good tits. Who’s

Robert picking for a new Hand?

TYRION:

If he’s smart, my father.

REDHEAD:

And if he’s not smart?

TYRION:

If the King is not smart? Milady,

these are treasonous words...

He clamps his palms on the back of her head and guides her

back toward his crotch.

The Redhead laughs, disbelieving.

REDHEAD:

No chance you’re ready again.

He takes the goblet from her, downs the remainder, and tosses

it across the room.

TYRION:

The gods gave me one blessing.

The Redhead grins and pushes her hair away from her face as

she dips down for further service.

21.

Just as Tyrion closes his eyes the door swings open. SER

JAIME LANNISTER (30s), the Queen’s twin brother, stands in

the doorway.

Considered by many the best-looking man in the Seven

Kingdoms, there is a hint of savagery behind his green eyes.

He smiles as the Redhead, flustered, covers her breasts.

JAIME:

Don’t get up.

REDHEAD:

Forgive me, my lord...

TYRION:

Should I explain to you, dear

brother, the meaning of a closed

door in a whorehouse?

Jaime continues to favor the redhead with his lazy grin,

f***ing her with his eyes as he speaks with his brother.

JAIME:

You have much to teach me, no

doubt, but in this instance perhaps

you’ll forgive the interruption.

You told me once that you wanted to

see the North. I didn’t want you to

miss your chance.

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