House of the Dragon ’s Worst Character Somehow Found a Way to Stoop Even Lower

After each episode of House of the Dragon, Slate writers will gather to answer a crucial question: Who is the worst person in Westeros? This week: books and culture columnist Laura Miller and associate writer Nadira Goffe answer the call.

Laura Miller: Nadira, the theme of this week’s episode is definitely being careful what you wish for. Criston Cole parades the head of Rhaenys’ dead dragon through the streets of King’s Landing but doesn’t get the cheers from the restive small folk he thinks the trophy deserves, and seems pretty chastened himself. Aegon, so eager to ride to battle, is now so badly burned he may not survive, and Alicent gives her second son, Aemond, the side-eye when she realizes this development puts him much closer to the Iron Throne—and maybe, just maybe, that was intentional. The townsfolk are buying moldy produce and contemplating an exodus. Neither Alicent nor Rhaenyra can get the men on their councils to take them seriously as military leaders. And Criston has only just realized how brutal a war with dragons can be. He tells Alicent he’s “spared” her by preventing her from presiding over it.

Alicent and Rhaenyra, in fact, seem to be the only leaders who knew how terrible this war would be and tried hard to prevent it. Rhaenyra is down her most reliable advisor in Rhaenys, whom I know we all mourn. Now Aegon, Alicent’s somewhat more malleable son, is sidelined, and Aemond is regent. This seems to scare her. “You know what he is, or what he has somehow become,” she tells Criston. I’m not so sure he’s worse than Aegon, because at least he’s a lot smarter, but Ewan Mitchell looks so sinister with that face like a plague-doctor mask! His own mother seems to think he’s the worst person in Westeros right now. What do you think of him as our choice?

Nadira Goffe: One of the things House of the Dragon has always been good at is showing the ways in which the now diametrically opposed Greens and Blacks are actually painfully similar. I loved all of the parallels you laid out here that occurred throughout the episode, though I do think it’s funny that Alicent and Rhaenrya are consistently surprised that they can’t just girlboss their way through centuries of patriarchy.

But patriarchy can also hinder even powerful men from attaining what they feel they deserve, which brings us to Aemond and Daemon’s parallel. While the latter is in Harrenhal having psychosis-induced Oedipal fantasies of what appears to be his mother saying he was Mommy’s favorite for the crown, the former committed treason (and nearly fratricide) last week to secure the throne himself—for now, at least. While I disagree with Aemond’s methods, of course, Aegon was infuriatingly bad at running the C-suite of the realm. I would certainly be considering Aemond for this week’s worst person in Westeros if he weren’t so exacting and certainly more competent than his brother at his first council meeting. It is wild to consider the idea that Aemond is let off the hook once again, despite reaching new heights through purely nefarious means—not to mention, I will never forgive him for Rhaenys’ exit from the plot—but he’s not my worst Westerosi this week.

I do wonder what we make of Ser Criston, who was upsettingly na?ve about the destructive potential of a war with literal dragons. In fact, it seems he also miscalculated the fact that everyone in the realm but him—until now, at least—is justifiably terrified of the fire-breathing winged beasts. Still, his misstep in underestimating the ashen end to a fiery battle, and his next mistake in frightening all of King’s Landing by bringing the reminder of that ashen ending to their front door, is annoying, to say the least. What say you, Laura? Has Criston erred his way into WPiW again this season?

Miller: Criston does seem inept at reading the room in terms of public image. I find him one of the most enigmatic characters in the series because, while his initial na?veté has given way to something else, it’s not clear to me what motivates him now that his chivalric idealism is gone. While most of the lords and lordlings have been eager to get down to the glory of war, he at least was more experienced in combat and less driven by sheer bravado. What does that guy want? It seems like his thing with Alicent is over now that he betrayed her at the council by endorsing Aemond’s regency, but does he actually want to serve Aemond? I guess duty is his guide, but, as he’s found out, it’s really hard to determine which is the most virtuous allegiance to swear to in Westeros. Surely he’s not so gormless as to think either of Alicent’s sons would be a better ruler than Rhaenyra.

By the way, another argument in favor of Rhaenyra’s reign is that her heir, Jacaerys, is showing himself to be a smart leader by bargaining with the Freys (a clan that always seems to have an eye for the main chance) to outmaneuver Aemond’s troops by blocking the crossing at the Green Fork. What we’re seeing in this series is how many of the chess pieces in Game of Thrones were put into place.

But, while I think Christon is pretty dumb not to grasp that Westeros would be much better off under Rhaenyra’s line, I’m not sure his stupidity equals the malevolence of some of the other characters.

Another thing I appreciate about this season is the time given to the smallfolk. Mysaria is basically Rhaenyra’s smallfolk whisperer, because the nobility in this world are seriously out of touch with the needs of the people whose work supports all their bloody shenanigans. We see the blacksmith who has been stiffed by Aegon nursing his ailing daughter. (I’m not sure why people onscreen all seem to think that soaking a rag in water and then wringing it out and dabbing it on a sick person’s head is so helpful.) His wife wants to leave King’s Landing, and she’s not alone. Someone—Aemond? Ser Criston?—ordered the city gates locked, effectively imprisoning everyone. Only the emissary of Mysaria is able to move freely, and it was fascinating to see that even the guards know who she is and honor her orders. I can’t wait to find out what her message is!

But, speaking of noncombatants, perhaps the most likely candidate for worst person in Westeros is, as usual, Daemon, who orders the Blackwoods to perpetrate war crimes on the women and children of the Bracken clan (conveniently, the sworn enemies of the Blackwoods) to pressure them into allying with him. For a little while, when he suggested that they try “less fighting and more persuading,” I hoped that Daemon meant offering the Brackens something they wanted, as Jacaerys did with the Freys. But no.

Also, is he being haunted or is he going crazy, and is the witchy woman of Harrenhal behind it, or is it all on Daemon himself? I bet you have some thoughts on Daemon’s candidacy for WPiW, hmmm?

Goffe: I’m so glad you brought all of this up because I can’t understate how interested I am to see what Jace’s levelheaded and tactical approach to leadership and political gain—unlike that of his uncles, of course—brings to his family’s cause. Similarly, though I admit to being bored by any plot points revolving around the Sea Snake, aka Corlys Velaryon, I am impressed by his granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena, who are proving to be reliable and capable movers and shakers as they carry out Rhaenyra’s bidding. Awash in the narrative of a battlefield full of ne’er-do-wells, it is refreshing to see the younglings of Team Black hint at potential competence. Though whether competence will get to rule is, of course, the question.

I was also surprised to see Mysaria develop into Rhaenyra’s own Larys. I wasn’t expecting her character to stick around, and at first I didn’t much care for her, but it makes sense for a Master of Whisperers to have developed her contacts from her past sex work rather than a slinky use of nobility. As far as Chekhov’s blacksmith goes, I am patiently waiting for Hugh’s plotline to matter in our grand scheme of things, as we’ve now seen him at least three times.

And, at last, we’ve reached Daemon. I’ve been absolutely loving the scenes of Daemon losing it at Harrenhal, not least because of the great performance from legendary stage actor Sir Simon Russell Beale as Ser Simon Strong. You asked if Daemon is going crazy or being haunted, and I believe it’s a little bit of both, brought on by the witchiness of Harrenhal. There’s something about a moderately haunted castle that just feels right, and I’ll never tire of that narrative setting.

Daemon usually skirts past winning our WPiW trophy because he’s bad all of the time, making it so that his transgressions have to be exceptional to stand out. But boy, are they exceptional here. It is ironically chuckle-worthy to watch Daemon’s own daughters and his stepson-slash-great-nephew be better at negotiations than he is, except there’s nothing funny about what the Brackens confront Daemon for orchestrating. To top it all off, they reveal that they all know Daemon is responsible for the beheading of Aegon’s son Jaehaerys. In short, Daemon stooped low and it backfired in a big way … again. I’d say all of this amounts to being this week’s worst, for sure.

Miller: Just because it isn’t shown onscreen doesn’t make it any less appalling, Daemon!  We have a winner—if it can be called that. Daemon Targaryen, you are the worst person in Westeros.