SPOILER: Daemon Targaryen is Westeros' John Wick


The 3rd episode of House of the Dragon shone a surprising, terrifying, and darkly funny light on King Viserys' rogue brother
House of the Dragon wasted no time in providing itself a hefty battle sequence this week, following in the footsteps and long shadow of its predecessor. But its first major battle had a notable difference: beneath the blood and guts, a grimly funny mythos plays out.

"Second of His Name" is primarily concerned with the escalating conflict between Rhaenyra Targaryen and her father, King Viserys, as the latter deals with the former's rebelliousness while planning her future as Viserys' chosen heir of the Seven Kingdoms as well as a daughter destined to marry one of those Kingdoms' most powerful men. But it climaxes far away from Rhaenyra and Viserys' struggles, in the Stepstones, with Daemon Targaryen—Matt Smith's unruly brother to Viserys, and the former named heir to the Iron Throne before his spat with his brother—going absolutely sicko mode in one of the most unhinged, yet brutally awesome scenes in Thrones history.

We are informed throughout the episode that Daemon and Corlys Velayron's war in the Stepstones—fighting off the militia raiding troops under a masked general known only as the Crabfeeder—is going terribly wrong. By the end of the episode, Viserys has given up on counsel and writes Daemon a letter pledging ships and men to join in the effort, thinking that this assistance will not only swing the war in his favor, but also begin to bridge the gulf between them. Daemon answers by seizing his helmet and bludgeoning the messenger nearly to death, which is a kind of comic reaction in and of itself, but what follows almost turns House of the Dragon into a violent dark comedy for the episode's conclusion.

Daemon sails off alone to the Crabfeeder's vast hideout, waving a white flag of surrender and theatrically laying down his sword after turning the aforementioned messenger into almost-pulp. Although it appears that he is doing it sincerely at first—after all, the Velaryons were just contemplating a daring plan to use Daemon as bait to entice the Crabfeeder's men out of their tunnels, where they may safely hide from Ceraxes' dragonfire. That, and it would be a spiteful act on Daemon's part to willingly enable his own abduction merely to spite Viserys. But the moment Crabfeeder's men approach the disarmed Viserys, he jumps out, slicing and stabbing with a knife and then his sword to carve a one-man path through his enemies.


And... Does it work? What follows is the closest House or even Thrones has come to John Wick. Daemon power flows like the Terminator as arrows scream all around him, less like volleys and more like machine gun fire, as he simply legs it quickly enough to evade them all (well, for the most part). No one can stand up to him as he slices and stabs through man after man, most of them barely getting a sword swing or a deflection before Daemon mercilessly dispatches them. Only after Daemon has single-handedly slain 10 to 15 men does he be hit by a few arrows, and even those hardly halt him, only long enough for him to remove one from his body completely and then break off most of the other before standing up and preparing to battle again. Even when Ceraxes and the Velayron forces come just in time to save him, Daemon continues to battle as if he's alone, power rushing to cut the Crabfeeder in two—whether with his own hands or his sword is unknown, but he returns remarkably blood-caked—and pull that half out into the sea.

It's insane. It's so badass that it nearly seems ridiculous. Of course, we've seen feats of martial ability and prowess before on Game of Thrones, but nothing quite like this, even at its most fanciful in the series' climax. Even with ice zombies and later dragons, Game of Thrones has always prided itself on its dismal, grounded fantasy realism—that even the strongest warriors might be defeated in combat, that death was fast, brutal, and unjust. But Daemon dashes, jumps, and slashes through the Crabfeeder's men—good troops, as evidenced by the fact that they're winning the war—like a video game character with God Mode turned on... or as a fantastic, epic character, as if what we were witnessing was a heightened retelling, a tall narrative for a Maester's history books that wasn't totally accurate.

To witness this sort of heightened surreality play out makes sense given House of the Dragon's nonchalantly more magical world than the one we initially experienced in Game of Thrones—where dragons are merely a fact of life. Its fantasy is grounded not in the outrageous action, but in what drives it; it speaks to Daemon's character and his very real feelings, so easily vindictive and angered, that all it would take to achieve this sort of wild fury was little more than the chance to prove to his brother that he did not need help, like two sullen teenagers arguing with each other instead of the realm's elites.

It's what makes it darkly funny in a way that few Game of Thrones conflicts have been before. One of the most crazy, unbelievable feats of violent fighting in the entire game rested on the very real, often ridiculous emotions of two squabbling brothers, straining the suspension of disbelief that already allowed us dragons. That has a Game of Thrones-like quality to it: something real and human at the heart of something fantastical.


#GameOfThrones #HouseOfTheDragon #GOT #DaemonTargaryen

SOURCE: gizmodo

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