Power to the People
Westeros’s smallfolk have become more prominent than ever in Season 2 of ‘House of the Dragon.’ Now, heading into the finale, they could help turn the tide in the Targaryen civil war.
If you ask me, the best character on Game of Thrones was Ser Davos Seaworth, a former smuggler from lowly Flea Bottom who was knighted by Stannis Baratheon before serving as his most trusted (non-magical) adviser. Despite rising up the ranks in Westeros, Ser Davos never let the power get to his head. He always exuded humility, decency, and loyalty—qualities that, in a cruel universe like Thrones, often become a death sentence. (Perhaps that’s why Ser Davos apparently forgot that he has a wife: He was just sparing her from the bloodshed.) Ser Davos cared more deeply for sweet Shireen Baratheon than her own parents; he cracked witty banter; his beard-grooming regimen ought to be studied by maesters for centuries to come. In a series full of characters from royal bloodlines, Ser Davos was a breath of fresh air—the rare lowborn who managed to wield genuine influence among the nobles. For all the issues with Thrones’ final season—and boy, were there many—Ser Davos’s appointment on Bran Stark’s Small Council was a worthy send-off for the Onion Knight. (Honestly? I’m still amazed my guy survived the entire run.)
Of course, Ser Davos wasn’t the only character from humble origins who became a major player on Thrones: Everyone from Lord Varys to the High Sparrow to Robert Baratheon’s bastard son, Gendry, had their moment in the spotlight. But in House of the Dragon’s first season, it appeared the prequel series had little interest in the smallfolk. The focus, instead, was on the political scheming within House Targaryen, which was caught between two potential heirs to the Iron Throne in Aegon and Rhaenyra. Not unlike Succession, the absence of the working class in House of the Dragon underlined just how out of touch the Targaryens are with their own subjects, and how an insulated life of privilege only compounded their misery.
What’s changed in House of the Dragon’s second season is how the series has widened its scope. We’ve seen characters venture north to visit Winterfell and the Wall—if only briefly—while Daemon Targaryen has been tripping balls in the Riverlands. King’s Landing might be Westeros’s seat of power, but the Iron Throne needs to be won throughout the realm. (Another factor working in the show’s favor this season: fewer discombobulating time jumps.) But I’d argue House of the Dragon’s most underrated game changer in Season 2 has been the foregrounding of the smallfolk, who have borne the brunt of the Targaryens’ escalating civil war. The smallfolk will never be the most consequential characters in the series, but giving them a larger platform hammers home the futility of the Targaryen conflict and how, when the highborns play the game of thrones, it’s those at the lowest rung of the ladder who suffer most.
While House of the Dragon did feature some characters from the lower class in its first season—most notably Lady Mysaria and her truly WTF accent—the series has greatly expanded its smallfolk roster this year. New characters include Corlys Velaryon’s bastard sons, Alyn and Addam of Hull; the incredibly named Ulf, who has spent most of his screen time getting plastered in a King’s Landing pub; Hugh Hammer (I’m just gonna say what we’re all thinking: elite porn star name), a blacksmith who comes to resent Team Green for failing to compensate him for arming Aegon’s soldiers; and Alys Rivers, a mysterious healer at Harrenhal and bastard of House Strong who is most definitely responsible for Daemon’s ayahuasca trips. Initially, some of these characters featured in what felt like unnecessary subplots filling out the show’s running time, but heading into Sunday’s finale, the smallfolk could help turn the tide in the Targaryen civil war.
Alyn has since been appointed Corlys’s first mate, but the real headline for the Hull bros. is that Addam is now a dragonrider; Seasmoke saw him from across the realm and really dug his vibe. Ulf and Hugh are revealed as Targaryen bastards, and their royal blood has led them to become dragonriders, claiming Silverwing and Vermithor, respectively. We still don’t know what exactly Alys gets out of messing with Daemon’s head, but she probably played a role in the death of Grover Tully, thereby giving Daemon his Riverlands army. As for the returning Mysaria, she’s emerged into one of Rhaenyra’s most trusted advisers—as well as, potentially, her new lover. And for the many smallfolk who appear across the series as glorified extras, they got a whole episode named after them during which they rioted throughout the streets of King’s Landing over the city’s food shortage.
With the smallfolk, House of the Dragon is walking an interesting tightrope. On the one hand, the series has repeatedly shown just how little the highborns regard their own subjects. Even characters from Team Black we often associate with having decent morals—at least by Thrones standards—have no qualms about putting the smallfolk in harm’s way. In Season 1, Rhaenys and her dragon, Meleys, casually killed dozens (if not hundreds) of smallfolk when gate-crashing Aegon’s coronation. (It spoke volumes that Rhaenys had reservations about burning Aegon without giving a second thought to the smallfolk.) On Sunday night, an unsympathetic Rhaenyra watched on as countless Targaryen bastards from King’s Landing were burned alive and devoured by Vermithor, which felt like an R-rated extension of Jurassic Park. (A tough beat for the Targaryen bastards not named Ulf or Hugh but, admittedly, unbelievable television.)
At the same time, House of the Dragon isn’t just tormenting the smallfolk for the sake of it: The series has long planted the idea that support among the commoners is as important for the crown as support from any of the Great Houses. As this season has demonstrated, when the smallfolk rally around a cause—be it a food shortage or a rightful ruler for the realm—it can pose serious headaches, especially when they literally surround the highborns tucked away in the Red Keep. (Team Green forced the smallfolk to stay in King’s Landing while allowing them to starve: probably not a good idea!) What’s more, you can treat the smallfolk like shit, but like the North, they remember. For a time, the High Sparrow was the most influential figure in King’s Landing by weaponizing the smallfolk’s discontent under the guise of scripture. He put the power back into the hands of the people, and they made their feelings about Cersei Lannister quite clear. (A Lannister always gets the last laugh, however.)
The Ringer’s Streaming Guide
There’s a lot of TV out there. We want to help: Every week, we’ll tell you the best and most urgent shows to stream so you can stay on top of the ever-expanding heap of Peak TV.
All of which to say: In times of hardship, the smallfolk are a powder keg; all it takes is the right voice to light the fuse. And with Mysaria’s help, Rhaenyra has the people of King’s Landing on her side. (Good thing for her that Vermithor didn’t leave any witnesses.) What problems could this spell for Team Green? As a non–book reader who’s constantly shocked by George R.R. Martin’s storytelling choices, I’m not leaving anything off the table. Will the smallfolk of King’s Landing go full French Revolution? Will Alicent Hightower—or, god forbid, poor Helaena Targaryen—become the Marie Antoinette of Westeros? Would Team Green dare to attack its own subjects, à la Daenerys Targaryen at the end of Thrones? Will one of the smallfolk write the Westerosi equivalent of The Communist Manifesto?
Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. (Would read The Smallfolk Manifesto, though.) Whatever happens, it’s hard to imagine things on House of the Dragon will change too much even though some smallfolk have become dragonriders—if anything, characters like Addam, Ulf, and Hugh may illustrate the prevailing theme of how power corrupts. But seeing the smallfolk in a more proactive role in the series, rather than being reduced to cannon fodder for the highborn, is still worth celebrating. As is true of real life, Westeros is a realm that favors the wealthy, but that doesn’t mean the little guys can’t dream big and let their voices be heard. To paraphrase the High Sparrow: The highborn are the few; the smallfolk are the many.
