June 3, 2018
Yara endures. Dany mingles with wolves. Jon reunites with an old friend.
EXT. THE SILENCE - MAIN DECK - DAY
Dragon cries give way to the crying of seabirds and the sounds of a ship under sail.
YARA GREYJOY rises up into view, suspended from a rope by her arms, which are bound together at the wrists. She jerks in time to the pulling rhythm of the IRONBORN who hoist her upward via a pulley attached to one end of the main yard. A second rope hangs limp from her bound wrists and trails downward, disappearing into the water.
Yara's feet are bound together at the ankles, and from them is suspended a heavy iron weight.
Yara doesn't look so good. Her face is bruised and smudged with dried blood. Her clothes are soiled and unkempt. Her eyes are expressionless.
(in time to the pulling)
They pull until Yara is hoisted all the way up to the main yard. Her body dangles over the open sea, swaying with the ship's motion.
EURON GREYJOY beams up at her from the deck, soaking it all in. It's a beautiful sight to him.
The men release the rope. Yara plummets down and splashes into the sea.
EXT. UNDERWATER - DAY
The iron weight pulls Yara relentlessly downward into the cold ocean.
She looks up toward the glimmering of the sun above the waves. Its light is weak and distant.
She closes her eyes and holds her breath.
EXT. THE SILENCE - MAIN DECK - DAY
The sailors cross the deck to the other side of the ship. There's a rope trailing down from a pulley on the opposite end of the main yard. They rapidly pull in the slack then start to pull in concert as the rope finds resistance.
EXT. UNDERWATER - DAY
Yara is jerked up and sideways by the second rope. It pulls her steadily through the water, under the keel of the ship.
On the way up, her head smacks against the hull. Air bubbles stream from her mouth and nose as she blacks out.
EXT. THE SILENCE - MAIN DECK - DAY
Yara is hoisted up and out of the water, limp and dripping. Her head lolls lifelessly, and her wet hair hangs down over her face.
They reel her in and lay her faceup on the deck. They pull her wet hair out of her face. She is not breathing.
His men move to obey him. As they work, Euron crouches down and leers sadistically at his unconscious niece.
Finally Yara jerks awake, spitting water. She doubles up on the deck, retching and shaking. Euron watches with serene glee. Then leans down close to her.
Good morning, Yara. It's another beautiful day.
EXT. THE SILENCE - MAIN MAST - LATER
The activities have only just begun.
Yara stands bound to the main mast, as Ironborn sailors line up to hit her. She takes several painful-looking hits, one from each man, with little chance to recover between blows. Euron watches the show with great amusement.
MARON VOLMARK, a thick-chested brute, delivers a devastating punch to Yara's face -- a wild swinging haymaker that wrenches her neck and busts her cheek open. Euron laughs his appreciation as fresh blood trickles down her face.
Maron steps aside for the next man, an OLD SAILOR.
As the old sailor steps forward, his eyes meet Yara's. She's still half-dazed from the punch, but a faint glint of defiance is visible as she stares him down. He stares back at her. For just a moment, a glimmer of something shows through his hard, grizzled deadpan. Is it reluctance?
The old sailor steps up and drives his fist deep into Yara's stomach.
She doubles over, all the wind driven from her. The old sailor walks away. Yara hangs there, sagging against her ropes, gasping airlessly like a dying fish.
EXT. THE SILENCE - MAIN DECK - NIGHT
The old sailor is swabbing the deck.
The sailor looks up to see Euron striding toward him across the deck.
You used to sail under my niece, didn't you?
What was that like, taking orders from a woman?
S'not right. S'why I named you king. Not right to have a queen.
Euron eyes him shrewdly. He leans in close.
Did you enjoy hitting her?
But you took your sweet time doing it.
The old sailor looks up. Euron's got a psychopathic gleam in his eye. The man knows he needs to tread carefully.
Just searching for a good target, my captain.
Ah. Well that makes sense. You chose well. Knocked all the wind out of her.
Euron mimes Yara doubling over and cackles. The old sailor does his best to laugh along convincingly.
Of course, she got her wind back, didn't she. You could've broke her nose. Wrenched her jaw. Cracked a rib. But no, you buried your fist into her nice soft belly. It probably doesn't even hurt anymore.
A tense beat.
I... I hadn't thought of that, captain.
No. Of course not.
He smiles. Then spins on his heel and walks off. The old sailor breathes a sigh of relief.
Euron nods to TWO MEN standing nearby. One of them draws a small hooked blade. And a set of pincer tongs.
The two men rush him and tackle him to the deck.
No! I hate the bitch, I swear it! Please! Don't! DON'T!
They grab his tongue with the tongs and now there are no words to his screams anymore, only agony.
EXT. WINTERFELL - BROKEN TOWER - EVENING
Drogon and Rhaegal make themselves at home on the lawn outside the Broken Tower.
Dany, Jon, Tyrion, Davos, and Missandei sit atop Drogon's back. Jon jumps off and starts helping the others down, as Dany holds the dragon steady.
GHOST comes loping toward them, then freezes at a distance when he sees the dragons. Jon spots him. A grin spreads across his face.
Who's that? I see you.
Ghost takes a step backward -- ears flat, tail tucked, eyeing the dragons. A low, nervous growl starts up in his throat.
Come here, boy.
Ghost looks at Jon and whines piteously.
Jon steps away from the dragons, and walks toward Ghost. Ghost takes another step backward and looks again at the dragons.
You're braver than that, come on.
Jon crouches down and Ghost finally drops his caution. He comes up to Jon and sniffs his face in greeting, a panting wolfy smile on his face.
Dany walks up behind Jon, looking rather awed and intrigued. She's never seen a wolf before, let alone a direwolf.
Who is this?
(looking up at her)
My direwolf. Ghost, say hello.
Dany holds out a hand, and Ghost sniffs at her. Ghost licks his own nose, looks at Jon, then back at Dany. Dany moves to pet him, but Ghost pulls his head back to sniff her some more, lifting one front foot. She allows him to sniff her until he seems satisfied, then she gives him a pat on the head.
Arya is coming to get you, boy. You go north with her, understand? You keep her safe.
Ghost looks at Jon.
The crunching of footsteps announces the arrival of Sansa, approaching through the snow. She's staring at the dragons, wide-eyed. She's more than a little overwhelmed by them, but her instinct for courtesy is so strong that she's able to suppress it. Jon smiles when he sees her.
He looks like he's about to go hug her, then he remembers his manners.
Your grace, may I present my sister? Lady Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell.
Sansa smiles with cool courtesy and curtsies.
It is an honor to meet you, Lady Stark.
The honor is mine, your grace. May I show you to your chambers?
Dany looks at Jon, then smiles at Sansa.
I would like that very much.
Dany heads off with Sansa. Jon's gaze lingers on Dany as she walks away. Then a shout from a different direction:
Jon turns his head and sees SAMWELL TARLY hurrying through the snow.
Jon laughs in disbelief and walks toward him.
Sam, what are you doing here?
They embrace. Then break apart as Sam gapes at the dragons.
Gods be good. You rode in on that?
What was that like?
Wouldn't get too close, if I were you.
Sam, I'm Warden of the North now. I'm supposed to behead Night's Watch deserters.
We both know you won't do that.
The Night's Watch was founded to fight the White Walkers. The fight is here. Not at the Citadel, or at Castle Black.
You've heard about Eastwatch?
Jon nods grimly.
Bran said he saw some of the men escape.
I don't suppose they had time to burn the ones who didn't?
He didn't say.
Jon and Sam share a moment of silence for their fallen brothers.
"We shall never see their like again."
"And now their watch is ended."
I'm glad you're here, Sam.
They embrace again. Then Sam pulls away and looks in the direction where Dany had left.
I see you have a new... uh...
Sam makes a suggestive face at Jon.
Sam grins impishly.
(under his breath)
Sam. She's the queen.
Ohhh, the queen.
He nods, with gravitas. Then leans toward Jon conspiratorially.
Jon hits Sam on the shoulder and looks away, embarrassed, while Sam laughs at him.
You should, um... you should talk to Bran, when you get the chance.
Jon gives Sam a look.
I haven't seen my brother in six years. You think I won't talk to him the soonest chance I get?
Oh. Yes. Of course you will.
Sam nods, with attempted casualness. Jon eyes him confusedly. But before he can say anything, Tyrion walks up, and Jon has to make introductions.
Tyrion, this is my friend Samwell Tarly. We served together in the Night's Watch.
Pleased to meet you, Lord Tyrion.
Sam sticks out a hand.
Tyrion looks at Jon, then at Sam, and realizes from their unconcerned manner that neither of them know about Randyll and Dickon Tarly being burned alive by Dany. An "oh shit" expression crosses Tyrion's face, then he remembers himself and shakes Sam's hand.
It's... good to meet you too, Samwell. I heard you killed a White Walker once.
Oh. Yes, I... I did.
Mm. Perhaps you and I could... get a drink together, just the two of us. And you can regale me.
Sam hesitates, and looks at Jon.
Tyrion is one of the better drinking companions I've known.
Tyrion nods and smiles, but there's worry in his eyes.