‘House of the Dragon’ Season 2 Power Rankings: The Red Sowing (2024)

House of the Dragon is back, and the Dance of the Dragons is underway. The Targaryen war of succession will come down to control—who can control their impulses, their sycophants, and, yes, their dragons. With each passing episode, The Ringer will examine how Westeros’s key players are aligning their pieces on the board. As the saying goes, chaos can be a ladder. Welcome to the House of the Dragon power rankings.

The penultimate episode of House of the Dragon’s second season, “The Red Sowing,” is pretty much made for power rankings. Every episode of Dragon and Game of Thrones is ultimately about power, but this one presents its power dynamics more clearly than most. Often, in this franchise, shifts in standing are communicated subtly, with words or a glance. Other times, though, characters convey dominance or obeisance with an unmistakable, full-body display—the human equivalent of a dog rolling over, vulnerable belly to the sky.

I’m talking, of course, about bending the knee.

Early in Episode 7, newly minted dragonrider Addam of Hull bends the knee to Rhaenyra. “You kneel quickly for a man so suddenly elevated,” she says—wary, but eager to add to her air power.

Later, at Harrenhal, Willem Blackwood brags, “They who bent the knee to the usurper have been brought to heel.” Then he bends the knee to his new liege lord, Oscar Tully … who promptly orders his execution. Willem is still doing a deep knee bend as Daemon cuts off his head.

Finally, Vermithor and Silverwing bend their knees, and their necks, to Hugh and Ulf, respectively. (Dragons do have knees, right?)

All of which reminded me (sorry) of something Donald Trump Jr. recently said about conservative media mogul Rupert Murdoch. “There was a time where if you wanted to survive in the Republican Party, you had to bend the knee to him or to others,” Trump Jr. told Axios earlier this month. “I don’t think that’s the case anymore.”

Even if Murdoch is no longer kneel-worthy, Trump Jr.’s preferred running mate for his father, JD Vance, gave his first post-nomination interview to a Murdoch-owned outlet, Fox News. Vance’s, well, sudden elevation prompted numerous mentions of knee-bending by political pundits, such as this one by New York Times columnist David French: “Trump loves it when his previous critics bend the knee, and few people have bent the knee more deeply than Vance.”

A decade ago, most of America was blissfully ignorant of everything Trump Jr. said. But there’s no way he would’ve used the specific phrase “bend the knee” on, say, the last season of The Apprentice in 2010, right? Game of Thrones didn’t premiere until 2011. And seemingly thanks to Thrones (and, perhaps, A Song of Ice and Fire), these days, everybody “bends the knee.”

Thrones has long been a staple of political discourse. (If you think Vance’s stances have been divisive, check out what one of the Democratic VP hopefuls just said.) But it’s not just the political class that’s newly enamored of this saying. The culture’s increasing knee-diness is evident in this graph from the Google Books Ngram Viewer, which displays data through 2019:

Search traffic tells the same story, via Google Trends:

What if we compare “bend the knee” to a similar phrase?

Kissing the ring is out. Bending the knee is in. (By the way, if you’re wondering why “kiss the ring” popped in 2012, you can credit DJ Khaled. That 2017 spike for “bend the knee” was all Jon and Dany.)

George R.R. Martin didn’t come close to coining “bend the knee,” the way that he seems to have coined, say, the specific phrase “sweet summer child” (with its modern meaning of “naïve”). But he’s certainly made us say it much more often. Words are wind—another phrase Martin has seared into our brains—but wind can fan a fire, and every reference to knee bending reminds us that the world has collectively bent the knee to Martin’s (and HBO’s) creations. Which is, after all, why you’re reading these words … which are supposed to be about ranking characters.

1. Rhaenyra Targaryen

In a single episode, Rhaenyra doubled the number of dragons at her disposal on Dragonstone. And we’re not talking tiny ones, like Daeron’s dragon, who reportedly took wing this week in Oldtown. These are combat-ready, adult dragons, including one who’s almost as massive as Vhagar (and may be more fierce). Before receiving these reinforcements, Rhaenyra said, “I have only Syrax who may give Aemond a second thought.” But by the end of the episode, Rhaenyra has more dragons than she knows what to do with, and Aemond and Vhagar are forced to turn tail.

Not only did Rhaenyra assemble enough riders to turn Dragonstone into a no-fly zone for Team Green and potentially establish air superiority over the mainland, she did so by addressing another longstanding deficiency: her subpar political instincts. This week, she showed some serious savvy and spine by ignoring the naysayers—including Bartimos Celtigar, the dragonkeepers, and her own son and heir—recognizing the merits of Mysaria’s suggestion, and making Vermithor come when she called. She overcame her own prejudices in the interest of expediency and showed an unsuspected knack for pregame pep talks. Clear eyes, full hearts, quick fuse!

On top of all that, Rhaenyra—unbeknownst to her—gained the allegiance and swords of the Riverlords, who supported her despite Daemon’s attempt to soft-launch himself as king. Perhaps her troubles with her coup-curious consort are coming to an end. Plus, she got to meet some of her extended family! Sadly, most of her relatives’ visits didn’t last long. Family gatherings can be so incendiary. This one wasn’t heartwarming, but it was, well, warm.

2. Bastards

Episode 7 was quite a come-up for bastards, one of Westeros’s traditionally downtrodden groups. As a bastard born myself, I salute the ascendance of my fellow out-of-wedlock kids; Addam, Hugh, and Ulf may be illegitimate, but they proved that they’re legit. Even if Rhaenyra was just grinning and bearing the bastards in her midst, they came up clutch enough that the queen couldn’t front about the bastards bailing her out. Who knew that in this war among the highborn, the baseborn would prove so pivotal? (Other than millions of readers of Fire & Blood.)

Of course, things didn’t go great for every bastard: In Westeros, events that start with “The Red” and end with “-ing” must be bad news for someone. As is often the case, the sowing wasn’t so bad, but the reaping was a problem.

If I have any critique of Rhaenyra, who was Reaganing this week, it’s that the bastard barbecue in the Dragonmont may have been avoidable. I couldn’t help but notice that she and her retinue got well out of range of Vermithor’s flames before Silver Denys’s ill-fated dragon-taming attempt. Why not send out the aspiring dragonriders one by one to decrease casualties and increase the chances of a successful bonding, instead of making them cluster together for maximal collateral damage and then barring their escape? I don’t expect Rhaenyra to care about the bastards’ well-being, but you’d think she’d care about upping the odds of finding a match.

3. Hugh Hammer

How Hugh like me now? When this episode started, Hugh was an unpaid contractor in King’s Landing, bereaved and bereft. Now he commands the baddest dragon on Team Black, if not in all the land. Unlike Ulf, he looks the part of a dragonlord, but he didn’t master Vermithor just by being a nepo baby with the right Valyrian midi-chlorian count. He won his dragon—and, perhaps, his fortune—by being bold and courageous. “I have to do something!” he exclaimed. Well, that was certainly something. His next chat with Kat should be a fun one.

4. Addam of Hull

“We spent the whole of our lives in the shadow of the Sea Snake’s great castle,” Addam complained last week. Now he has his own room in an even greater castle. Corlys said it: “How you have come up in the world.”

Addam doesn’t just have a way with Seasmoke; he also has a way with words. As the first of the non-Targaryens to claim a dragon, Addam had the toughest time convincing Rhaenyra of his intentions. But by pledging his loyalty and bending his knee, he opened the queen’s closed mind to the possibility of “an army of bastards.” “The order of things has changed, Your Grace,” Mysaria says to Rhaenyra. This Ad(d)am actually changed the hierarchy of power.

Pulling off the “impossible” stunt of claiming a dragon—and being rewarded with a sweet cloak, plus some time off work—was nice enough. But after last week’s lament about the Sea Snake—“Me he ignores … as he always has”—you know that “Well done” from Daddy was the greatest prize of all. Hey, people have probably done more dangerous things for parental approval.

5. Ulf the Dragonlord

So, Ulf wasn’t just boasting about being the blood of the dragon for the free drinks. Yes, he had to be peer pressured into leaving King’s Landing, and sure, he covered himself in mud more than glory when he accidentally stumbled into Silverwing’s lair. But Baelon’s sot of a son—at least, he’s believed to be Baelon’s—is now a genuine dragonrider who ends the episode by soaring over the city where he once huddled among the smallfolk. It’s a pleasure to see someone flying just for fun, for once.

It’s nice work if you can get it. Still, it’s sort of a letdown that you evidently don’t have to do anything to claim a dragon. Hugh, at least, stood up to Vermithor and faced his dragon down. Ulf literally falls down in front of his dragon, yet Silverwing accepts him. I know Silverwing is laid-back by dragon standards, so maybe she sees the more mellow Ulf as a kindred spirit, but shouldn’t claiming a dragon be like breaking a horse or taming an ikran—a task that requires some skill or bravery? I guess it’s sort of a soulmate thing, but the bond would be more meaningful to me if it had to be built up over time or earned through an act that revealed the rider’s character. And shouldn’t you have dragonriding lessons before you go joyriding—kind of uncontrollably, to be fair—over Blackwater Bay? How much art is there to dragonriding, really?

That nitpick aside: There’s undoubtedly an art to depicting dragons on-screen, and the combination of HBO’s budget and its VFX artists’ skill made this episode a masterstroke in that respect. And though there’s only so much depth to the dragonseeds, the series has made major strides toward rectifying the first season’s lack of lowborn characters.

6. Mysaria

So, uh … are Mysaria and Rhaenyra going to talk about that (truly) spontaneous face-sucking sesh from last week, or are they just going to pretend it didn’t happen? Granted, these two have many matters other than making out on their minds. But if Mysaria thought Rhaenyra looked good with a sword at her side last week, you can’t tell me that the sight of the queen cowing a dragon and intimidating Aemond didn’t do it for her.

Whether or not Rhaenyra and Mysaria smooch again, Mysaria has once again demonstrated her platonic utility to the queen and solidified her status as Team Black’s most valuable adviser. You have to hand it to her: Keeping track of fourscore Targaryen progeny—some of whom don’t look at all like typical Targaryens—is a nifty feat of sleuthing and surveillance. It’s not like she has 23andMe.

7. Oscar Tully

Well, now we know how House Tully has kept the factious Riverlords in line: by applying a deft diplomatic touch that young Oscar seems to have inherited. Lord Oscar isn’t quite as precocious as Lady Lyanna Mormont, but he seems like an old hand at reading a room of proud rivermen. In private, he professes uncertainty about whether his vassals will heed his authority, but once the spotlight is on him, he performs flawlessly while projecting a winsome humility that the Targaryens lack. He even audaciously dresses down Daemon to his face, in front of a noble audience, knowing that Daemon can do nothing if he wants to walk away with a win.

“I hope to begin well, and go on from there,” Oscar tells his bannermen. Well, the beginning is going great. Why can’t Oscar be king? Can we get this kid a dragon?

8. Alyn of Hull

Addam is a dragonrider; might Alyn possess that power, too? He doesn’t know, nor does he care to find out. “I am of salt and sea,” he says when Corlys implies that maybe both of his bastard sons could bolster Rhaenyra’s dragon depth chart. “I yearn for nothing else.” You have to respect someone who understands their strengths and knows what they want in life, but even if he’d rather do his job in the background, Alyn’s low-profile life is probably behind him.

9. Corlys Velaryon

Corlys is Rhaenyra’s hand, so in general, events that help her also help him. And in this case, his sons are instrumental to her success—though he hasn’t publicly acknowledged them as his sons. Maybe it’s High Tide—er, high time—that he did. Rhaenys is dead, and Laenor’s long gone; now that Rhaenyra is indebted to Addam and Alyn and the Targaryens’ bastards have been brought into the fold, what reason does he have to hide them? “The Sea Snake would sooner have High Tide claimed by the sea than call us his sons,” Alyn told Addam last week. That was before Addam mounted a dragon and Alyn smuggled two other future riders to Dragonstone. Come on, Corlys: Let the father-son bonding begin.

10. Jacaerys Velaryon

Jace has been a voice of reason and an effective emissary for the blacks, even when Rhaenyra was rudderless, but their roles reverse this week when his mom’s new plan puts him on tilt. I get it: All that talk about bastards, and the sight of so many dragonseeds who look more quintessentially Targaryen than he does, are dredging up some insecurities. So is suddenly finding his dragon so outclassed. Pouting isn’t a good look on him, but hopefully it’s healthy that he and his mother had the Harwin talk; sometimes it’s good to get these things out there.

Perhaps Jace is right to be skeptical; we’ll see whether Rhaenyra’s pride goes before a fall. But Jace: You have to win the war before you stress about succession. Also, the smallfolk are saving your side’s ass, yet you’re calling underprivileged people “mongrels”? Come on, man. This is the Dance of the Dragons, not Project 2025.

11. Daemon Targaryen

Daemon accomplished his mission—uniting the Riverlands—but he did so, inadvertently, by uniting the region against him. He also suffered the indignity of a tongue-lashing from a whelp of a lord Daemon had dismissed in their last meeting. And then he dispensed “justice” by murdering a man for following his own orders.

Willem’s bloody demise extended a violent motif from this season. The first episode started with giving head and ended with taking one. In Episode 2, Jaehaerys’s killer, Blood, got caught head-handed, then had his head bashed in. In Episode 4, Daemon envisioned beheading young Rhaenyra. And this week, he decapitated Blackwood, who was doing Daemon’s bidding. By swinging his sword, Daemon tacitly admits that he deserves death.

“I don’t need their love,” Daemon says. “I need their swords.” Unlike Oscar, he doesn’t realize that gaining the former might make obtaining the latter more likely—or that people fight harder for causes they care about. However, he does show some signs of growth. In his latest Harrenhal hallucination, Daemon visits Viserys as an old man. “You always wanted it, Daemon,” the decrepit king says, holding out his crown clasped in one bony hand. “Do you want it still?” To his credit, Daemon doesn’t take it. Maybe he’s ready to give up the ghost, so to speak, and rededicate himself to supporting Viserys’s rightful heir.

12. Larys Strong

Larys showed a lousy nose for news in dismissing Ironrod’s intel about Seasmoke’s new rider—unless he’s trying to sabotage Aemond—but who wants to be the bearer of bad whispers, anyway? The real problem for Larys isn’t one whiff on a whisper; it’s that he’s hitched his star to a king who hardly has the will to live. Having been rebuffed in his bid to be Aemond’s hand, Larys pivoted to currying favor with the nominal monarch, whom he thinks will welcome his help adjusting to a less mobile life. Now his own survival and advancement depend on Aegon’s—hence the strict regime Larys has prescribed in his informal capacity as the king’s drill sergeant/personal trainer/physical therapist. I see the vision, but I’m not sure Larys picked the right pupil. He does lend a hand to Aegon in this episode, but it could be awhile before Aegon is in any kind of condition for him to serve as one.

13. Grand Maester Orwyle

Orwyle has little power, per se, but he’s a healer—and in wartime, those are much in demand. I don’t see why he has to take orders from Larys, though, so he should probably put his foot down. Larys tends to respond to that.

14. Aegon Targaryen

The good news is that the king is conscious and semi-ambulatory. The bad news is that he doesn’t want to be. Also, he has to be hidden away, lest his not-so-loving subjects see how weak and disfigured their monarch has become. The greatest indignity, though, is that he takes a spill during physical therapy because his cane cracks. Aegon styles himself King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. Is a solid walking stick too much to ask?

15. Aemond Targaryen

Tough look for my guy One-Eye. Not only is his brother (slowly) on the mend, endangering his regency, but his Small Council is much smaller than usual. Worst of all, he’s no longer invincible on Vhagar, whose Swiss-cheese wings and wattle are making her look a little old. Until this week, the blacks could’ve triple-teamed Vhagar and still stood to lose, so great was Vhagar’s size and strength advantage over any of Rhaenyra’s individual dragons. But even Vhagar wouldn’t survive a six- or seven-on-one attack—especially not with Vermithor, who’s nearly as large, in the mix. With her revamped roster, Rhaenyra could put the Vhagar Rules into effect while holding a dragon or three in reserve. As his 180 at the end of this episode shows, Aemond knows it. If he nears Dragonstone, he’ll be at great risk ... but if he flies anywhere else in the realm, he’ll leave the city exposed.

16. Alicent Hightower

“Nothing is clean here,” Alicent says, staring at a rat that looks at home in her chambers. It can’t have helped that her son had the ratcatchers killed … but who bears more blame for Aegon’s ascent to the throne than Alicent? It would seem that the list of things that aren’t clean includes the dowager queen’s conscience, and understandably so.

In an effort to cleanse that much, at least, Alicent goes glamping in the Kingswood with Rickard Thorne and tries to wash away her sins. When she emerges from the figurative baptism, she finds she’s in no rush to return to court. When Thorne—who seems a little less enthused about this outdoors adventure—asks, more or less, when she means to release him from roughing it, Alicent answers, “I’m not yet certain I do.”

At least Alicent got some screen time this week, unlike estranged slam piece Criston Cole, who’s missing in action. (I can’t say that I missed the man.) She’s plummeting in the power rankings; if she falls much further, she might cease to merit Kingsguard protection, and she’d have to go glamping alone. But her demotion would be worth it if it came with a corresponding drop in the misery rankings. Maybe this dark night of Alicent’s soul will be for the best: Hasn’t she done enough damage, to Westeros and herself? If proximity to the crown is crushing, as Daemon’s vision of Viserys says, then Alicent is probably better off away from the rats and the rat race.

T-17. Baela and Rhaena Targaryen

“It must be the dragon who speaks,” Rhaenyra says in Episode 7. Evidently it mustn’t be either Baela or Rhaena who speaks, because neither of them had a line this week. At least Rhaena is hot on Sheepstealer’s trail, not that Team Black seems to need more dragons right now. Back in Episode 6 of Season 1, Rhaena griped, “Father ignores me.” Good news: If Addam of Hull’s example is any guide, there’s no better way to get a distant dad’s attention than to claim a dragon. Then again, in that same Season 1 episode, Rhaena’s late mother told her, “If you wish to be a rider, you must claim that right.” So maybe Rhaena’s doing it aaaall for Leyna Laena.

19. King’s Landing Security

First, Daemon sneaked into King’s Landing and hired assassins to kill a member of the royal family within Maegor’s Holdfast. Next, Rhaenyra herself sneaked into the sept to see Alicent, right under the noses of the dowager queen’s guards. Now 80 dragonseeds have sneaked out of the city at Rhaenyra’s behest. By contrast, it took an identical twin of a Kingsguard member for the greens to (briefly) breach the blacks’ defenses. Granted, it’s easier to lock down Dragonstone than the capital city, but is there no limit to the incompetence of King’s Landing security and counterintelligence? I’d say “heads must roll,” but as we established, a lot of heads have rolled already.

20. Hugh’s Daughter

Farewell, Whatever Your Name Was. I’ll miss the mopping of your feverish brow, but I guess you died on the way back to your home planet. I’m sorry that the lettuce Hugh stole last week wasn’t enough to sustain you.