Chapter 3 – Chance Encounters

Middas, the 14th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 204

King's Landing

The bustling streets of King's Landing reminded Nakos of the city streets back in Skyrim. The large cities like Solitude, Windhelm, and Whiterun were always full of people; the only difference was here in Westeros, everyone was human. There were no Argonians, no orcs, no elves, and no Khajiit. Nakos kept expecting to see one as he walked through the crowds of people with Mjoll. But he always had to remind himself that he was not in Tamriel. He and Mjoll pushed their way through the crowds towards the Red Keep.

"I've never had to deal with crowds this big before," Nakos noted as he squeezed through a couple of big men.

"Me either," Mjoll replied, "And it's a little weird as well. I'm always expecting to see an orc or an elf show up."

Nakos laughed, "You too?"

"Yes, I keep reminding myself that I'm not in Skyrim anymore."

"So do I."

There was finally some breathing room as he and Mjoll made their way to the Red Keep. Tyrion was there, standing in front of the two huge bronze and wood doors. "Lord Tyrion." Tyrion and Nakos shook hands.

"Sir Nakos. Thank you for coming. I believe I have more information for you regarding the North."

"Thank you. Any information is greatly appreciated."

"If you don't mind coming to the Small Council again…"

"Not at all."

Tyrion opened the doors and the three of them entered a large, cavernous room. A vaulted ceiling towered overhead with massive arches and columns, held high by marble pillars. In between each pillar, a large, metallic brazier was burning. A raised gallery stood on the right side of the hall. On the left side of the hall were several windows with stained-glass depictions of a seven-pointed star. The sunlight shone through the stained glass, casting colorful beams onto a marble floor. At the opposite end of the room, steps of rough black stone led up to a throne that sat atop a raised dais. The stained-glass window behind the throne also depicted a seven-pointed star in yellow and red. The throne was made of a myriad of swords all fused together. Nakos couldn't help but stare at it.

Tyrion noticed, "Ah, the Iron Throne. Impressive, isn't it?"

Nakos nodded, but said nothing.

Mjoll also stared wide-eyed at the Iron Throne, "Who made it?"

"It was forged by Aegon Targaryen, also known as Aegon the Conqueror. When he conquered six of the seven kingdoms of Westeros, all the lords offered their fealty to him by giving him their swords: almost a thousand swords. The swords were melted down by the breath of Aegon's dragon, Balerion the Black Dread. And then they were forged into the seat that you see now."

Mjoll and Nakos quickly exchanged glances.

"A dragon, you say?" Nakos asked.

Tyrion nodded, "Aegon unified most of Westeros. In fact, he is the one who actually founded this city, and built the Red Keep."

"I would love to learn more about Aegon and his dragon. It sounds very fascinating."

"Grand Maester has a book that details the history of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms. Just let me know if you would like to borrow it."

"Does the book include the dragon?"

"I do not know. I would assume it does."

Nakos' heart was nearly bursting from his chest. Could it be possible that this Aegon was also a Dragonborn? He thought about the dragon skull that Laniel found last night while sneaking around the castle. Maybe the skull belonged to Balerion.

"Anyway, we should keep moving. We don't want to keep my sister waiting."

With that, Tyrion, Nakos, and Mjoll continued down a hallway, their footsteps echoing throughout the room. They soon arrived at the Small Council room. Cersei was there along with three other men: an old man, a bald man, and a tall, thin man were all seated around the table. They were in mid-conversation, talking about someone named Jamie. Cersei looked angrily at Mjoll, then Nakos, then Tyrion. But she said nothing.

"Please, Sir Nakos, and Lady Mjoll. Sit. I don't want you all standing this time," he said with a smile. Nakos thanked him and sat down in an empty chair next to Tyrion. Mjoll sat down next to the thin man.

"Any news from the North?" Tyrion inquired.

"Yes, I do," the old man went into his grey robes and pulled out a small scroll, "I have received a message from Castle Black."

"Castle Black?" Nakos asked.

"It is where all the members of the Night's Watch reside." Tyrion answered.

The old man nodded, "It is a message from Lord Commander Jeor Mormont." He handed the scroll to Tyrion.

"Thank you, Grand Maester Pycelle." Tyrion opened the scroll and read it to himself. He was silent for a few moments, and then he handed the scroll to Nakos. "It appears you were right, Sir Nakos. There is something happening in the north."

Nakos read the scroll and his eyes fell upon a troubling sentence: The cold winds are rising, and the dead rise with them. He read Jeor's account of how two of his missing rangers were found dead and brought back to Castle Black. The men were dead for a long time, but their bodies never decomposed. The two rangers then rose from the dead and attacked him and his men. The undead rangers survived every kind of weapon attack. No weapon could harm them. Only fire seemed to kill them. He handed the scroll to Mjoll.

"A new kind of draugr?" she asked after reading it.

"I don't know," Nakos answered. "I've never heard of a draugr that could not be killed by normal weapons. All the ones we've killed were with our swords, arrows, daggers, you name it."

"What are these… draugr you speak of?" Pycelle asked.

"They're… undead. The decomposed bodies of ancient Nords come back to life.

"Nords?" the bald man asked.

"There are nine provinces in the Empire of Tamriel. The province of Skyrim is home to the Nords."

"And from which province do you come from?" the thin man leaned forward in his chair.

"Hammerfell. But I have lived in Skyrim for three years, so I call it home."

"And what province do you hail from, my lady?" the thin man asked Mjoll.

"Skyrim," she answered curtly, "Not that it matters."

"Just trying to make conversation," the thin man smiled in a way that made Mjoll want to punch him.

"In any case," Nakos held up the scroll, "This confirms my suspicions. There is something happening in the north. And I bet this is only the first of many attacks to come. I need to head there as soon as possible."

"No," Cersei spoke up, "I want you right here in King's Landing so I can keep an eye on you. I'm still not convinced you're not a spy, so until I can determine that you are not a threat to this city and to this realm, you are not to leave King's Landing."

Nakos scoffed, "You can't be serious."

Cersei's face was unmoving, "I am serious."

"And why would I spy on King's Landing?"

"You claim you come from across the Sunset Sea, but you arrive in King's Landing just as we declare war with the Starks. I think that's too much of a coincidence. I think that you're not really from Tamriel at all," Cersei stood and leaned on the table, glaring at Nakos, "Maybe you're a spy for the Starks."

He stared back into Cersei's green eyes, "I've already been in one civil war. I have no desire to fight in another." Nakos was not intimidated by Cersei's stare, but he cursed under his breath. He had entered the middle of another war, just like he did when he was wrongfully captured and sentenced to death back at Helgen three years ago.

"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it."

"And what are you going to do about those undead that attacked Lord Commander Jeor?" Tyrion asked, "You're going to ignore his request for aid? The Lord Commander asks that we send more men to man the Wall."

Cersei sat down, "Perhaps he's forgotten we're fighting a war. We have no men to spare."

"The cold winds are rising and the dead rise with them," Nakos read aloud. "You're going to ignore that?"

"The northerners are a superstitious people." Pycelle huffed.

"Mormont doesn't lie." Tyrion responded.

Mjoll spoke up, "Have you been to the Wall, Lord Tyrion?"

"I have, Lady Mjoll. And I trust Mormont. We should send more men to the Wall."

Cersei chuckled, "One trip to the Wall and you come back believing in grumpkins and snarks."

Tyrion leaned forward, "I don't know what I believe, but here's a fact for you ... the Night's Watch is the only thing that separates us from what lies beyond the Wall."

Cersei smirked, "I have every confidence that the brave men of the Night's Watch will protect us all."

Mjoll folded her arms, "Then what do you plan to do?"

"I plan to win this war with the Starks." Silence came over the room. "Now… if there are no other matters to discuss, this Small Council meeting is over."

Mjoll stood in the Great Hall, admiring the Iron Throne again. It was hauntingly beautiful to her. She walked up the stone steps and circled the throne, running her hands across the greatswords, longswords, and shortswords that were all fused together. She could still not get over the fact that it was forged by dragon fire; she knew Nakos would very much like to investigate more about this "Aegon the Conqueror". Mjoll looked around, and seeing no one, sat down on the throne. She could swear she felt more powerful already, sitting amongst all those swords. She leaned back and closed her eyes, imagining what she looked like if she was queen, ruling the city, protecting people from the corruption. Much like she was trying to do back in Riften.

"The throne fits you," a voice interrupted her thoughts. Her eyes snapped open and she saw the bald man from the Small Council, standing at the bottom of the stone steps.

"Oh, I'm sorry…" Mjoll began to get up, but the bald man waved her back down.

"Oh no, don't get up on my account. I don't very much mind if you sit in it. In fact, I think you look quite good in that chair."

She smiled a bit, "I was wondering what I looked like from down there."

"You look like a proper queen. Very fierce. Especially with your black armor. What is that?"

"Ebony armor. A gift from Nakos."

"Royal robes and a crown would make you look like a goddess."

Mjoll thought for a moment, then shook her head, "I don't think I'm fit for royalty," she stood up and walked down the stone steps, "I'm an adventurer at heart."

"Are you a sellsword?"

Mjoll shook her head, "I've never been a sellsword... never traded my skills for pay. I've always adventured on my own terms."

"Then you're not a soldier either…"

"No, though I have had my fair share of fighting. No, I am simply an adventurer."

"You seem to enjoy it very much."

Mjoll beamed, "Oh, you should have seen me at the height of my adventuring career... I was fearless and took too many risks. But that's what it was all about."

The bald man smiled, "You and Nakos seem very close."

"Traveling with Nakos is an adventure itself. I never know where he's going to take me."

"Are you and him…?"

Mjoll was taken aback by the question, "Oh no! By the Nines, no!"

The bald man bowed his head, "I apologize, Lady Mjoll. I thought that you two would be together, given that you have always been seen together."

Mjoll laughed a bit, "It's ok. I understand. Nakos is a very good friend of mine. We've saved each other's lives on more than one occasion. I think it's fair to say that we would die for each other."

"Friends should always protect each other, wouldn't you say?"

"I would." Mjoll smiled at the man, "What is your name, good man?"

"Varys, my lady."

"Well, it was very nice to meet you, Varys. I hope we meet again soon." Mjoll walked toward the Great Hall entrance, when a familiar voice came from behind her.

"Lady Mjoll," Cersei said, "what are you doing here in the Great Hall?"

"Shit", Mjoll muttered under her breath. She already hated Cersei, probably more so than Maven Black-Briar. "Cersei…" Mjoll said curtly, "I was simply talking to Varys here …"

"What did you just call me?"

"Cersei. That is your name, is it not?"

There was a long pause before Cersei spoke, "Varys, leave us."

Varys bowed and scurried off.

"Listen here, you bitch," Cersei walked up to Mjoll, "I don't know who you think you are. But you are not to disrespect me. I am your queen."

"You are not my queen. You're no more my queen than your son is a king."

"I told you, as long as you are in my land, you are to obey my laws. It is simple knowledge. No matter where you go, native or traveler, you are to respect and obey the laws of the land you enter."

"And it is simple knowledge that a king and queen are to respect their visitors, not accuse them of being spies and keep them imprisoned in the city. Respect is a two-way street… my lady."

SMACK! Cersei brought the back of her hand across Mjoll's face. Mjoll glowered at Cersei, who only smiled a little evil smile, "You've got quite the mouth on you," Cersei sneered. "I'm sure my son would love to rip your tongue from your mouth."

"I'd like to see him try."

There was a pause as the two women stared each other down.

"You'd better watch yourself, Lady Mjoll. You are a stranger here and have no idea what I am capable of."

"Oh, I think I have an idea."

"Do you now?"

"I've dealt with people like you before. And I'll have you know that I don't scare easy."

Cersei raised an eyebrow, "Really? What about your friend? Nakos, I believe his name was? It's obvious to me that you care about him. Whether it's as a friend or a lover, I don't know. But it would be a shame if something were to happen to him, wouldn't you say?"

Mjoll smiled, "If I were you, I think you should be scared of him."

Her response caught Cersei off-guard, "Why?"

Mjoll laughed a bit, "You have no idea what he is capable of."

Turdas, the 15th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 204

The Kingsroad

Laniel rode Shadowmere alongside the caravan headed towards the Wall. It took him about a day to catch up, thanks to Shadowmere. Any other horse would've taken much longer. He would have to thank the Listener when he got back to King's Landing… if he got back. Before he had arrived at the caravan, he changed from his Dark Brotherhood armor into some black and brown leather armor he stole before leaving King's Landing. He did not want to risk anyone knowing his past.

Convincing Yoren, the man in charge, to allow him to join the party of Night's Watch recruits was easier than Laniel thought. He simply said that he came from King's Landing after hearing that a caravan was headed to the Wall, and was willing to help. After demonstrating his archery and tracking skills, Yoren was eager to have Laniel join the caravan. Of course, Laniel did not tell Yoren that he honed his skills as an assassin.

As he rode alongside, all the other men and boys in the caravan stared at Shadowmere in fear, all except for one. One young boy looked at Shadowmere with interest rather than fear. Laniel noticed him staring, "What's your name?"

"Arry."

"Arry," Laniel repeated. He patted Shadowmere on the head, "You like him?" he asked, "He's the best horse in the world."

"Why are his eyes glowing red? Is he sick?"

"No, he's always been like that."

"Why?"

Saying Shadowmere was undead would certainly raise suspicion, since they were on their way to the Wall to guard the land against undead. Laniel searched for a plausible explanation, and found one, "He's magic." He said smiling.

"Yeah, right. There's no such thing as magic."

"Yes, there is."

"No, there isn't."

"Where I come from, there is such a thing as magic."

"Where do you come from?"

"A long away."

Arry sat up, "Dragonstone?"

"No."

"Qarth?"

Laniel shook his head.

"Where else could magic take place?"

"First, you must promise to tell no one."

Arry nodded, "I promise."

He leaned close to Arry's ear, "Tamriel."

Arry's eyes widened, "Tamriel?"

"Not so loud." He glanced towards Yoren, who was leading the caravan.

"What are you afraid of?"

"I… didn't exactly tell Yoren the whole truth. I told him I came from King's Landing, but it is true that I want to help protect Westeros from the White Walkers."

"Why did you lie?"

"I'm… here to gain more information on the White Walkers. So we can learn how to defeat them."

"We?"

Laniel pointed south, "I have friends back in King's Landing. We came here because we heard about the White Walkers and we want to help."

"Why aren't they here with you?"

"They have… other business to attend to."

"HALT!" Yoren's voice came from the front of the caravan, "We'll set up camp here."

Laniel made his rounds around the camp, having been placed on patrol duty. As he walked around the camp, his mind wandered to the Listener and Mjoll. He wondered if they had made any progress with the dragon skull and finding out about the presence of dragons in Westeros. He silently prayed to the Dread Father Sithis, asking for protection for both him and his friends.

His prayers were interrupted when he saw two soldiers approaching from the south. He quickly ran to Yoren's tent and stood at the entrance, "Sir, two soldiers approaching from the south."

Yoren quickly got up and went to meet the newcomers, "What are Gold Cloaks doing so far from King's Landing?"

One of the soldiers rode his horse up, "You in command here?"

Yoren walked across a wooden bridge towards them, "You're a long way from home."

The soldier scowled, "I asked you a question."

"Aye, you did. You asked without manners and I chose not to answer."

The soldier took out a scroll, "I have a royal warrant for one of these gutter rats you're transporting."

Yoren clicked his tongue, "Well, the thing is... these gutter rats belong to the Night's Watch. Now, that puts them beyond the reach of Kings and Queens.

"Does it?" The soldier quickly moved to draw his sword, but Yoren was faster. In a flash, he had his dagger on the inner thigh of the soldier's right leg. Laniel placed a hand on his dagger, ready for anything.

"It's a funny thing," Yoren said, "people worry so much about their throats that they forget about what's down low. Now I sharpened this blade before breakfast. I could shave a spider's arse if I wanted to or I could nick this artery in your leg. And once it's nicked, there's no one around here who knows how to unnick it."

Yoren called to Laniel, but didn't take his eyes off the soldier, "Laniel, relieve this gold cloak of his weapon."

Laniel drew his dagger, and cautiously approached the soldier. With his dagger, he cut the sword belt, and took the sword from the gold cloak.

"We'll just keep that," Yoren smirked, "Good steel is always needed on the Wall."

By now, several other recruits had surrounded the two gold cloaks, weapons at the ready.

"Seems you have a choice," Yoren continued, "you can die here at this crossroads a long way from home, or you can go back to your city and tell your Masters you didn't find what you were looking for."

The gold cloak was defiant, "We're looking for a boy named Gendry," he yelled, "He carries a bull's head helmet. Anyone turning him over will earn the King's reward." He glared down at Yoren, "We'll be back with more men and I'll be taking your head home along with that bastard boy."

With that, the two gold cloaks turned around and headed back south. Laniel headed back into camp. As he approached, he heard movement by the riverbed. Drawing his dagger, he made his way towards the source. He peaked over the small slope, and saw Arry hiding, along with an older boy.

"Gendry, I presume."

"Why were you hiding from the Gold Cloaks?" Laniel asked Gendry as he filled a cauldron with water.

"It's none of your damn business." Gendry snapped.

"It should be. We're all going to the Wall together, and from what I've been told, we're still a long way off. If they come back, I don't want all these young boys dying because of something you did."

"You're an idiot," Gendry didn't look up, "Why don't you ask Arry why he was hiding too?"

"What does Arry have to do with this?"

"He said they were looking for him." Gendry walked back to the stream, leaving Laniel confused. The Gold Cloaks came from King's Landing looking for Gendry, but Arry thought they were looking for him. A runaway perhaps?

It wasn't long before Gendry came back to the cauldron, Arry at his heels, "What do the Gold Cloaks want with you?" Arry asked.

"No idea."

"You're a liar."

"You know, you shouldn't insult people that are bigger than you."

"Look who's talking," Laniel said smiling. "You insulted me. You called me an idiot."

"You are an idiot," Gendry joked.

"If I can't insult people bigger than me, I wouldn't get to insult anyone." Arry remarked.

"I don't care what any of them want," Gendry replied, "No good's ever come of their questions."

"No good's ever come?" Arry asked, "Who asked questions before?"

"How can someone so small be such a huge pain in my ass?" Gendry mumbled to himself.

"Who asked questions?" Laniel asked sternly.

Gendry said nothing.

"I still meant what I said earlier. I don't want these boys dying because of you."

Gendry paused, "The Hand of the King… hands of the King. Lord Arryn came first a few weeks before he died, and then Lord Stark came a few weeks before he died."

"Lord Stark?" Arry seemed stunned.

"See? Asking me questions is bad luck. You'll probably be dead soon. Both of you?"

"What did they ask about?" Laniel took a drink of water from his flask.

"My mom."

"Who's your mom?"

"Just my mom ... worked in a tavern, died when I was little."

"And who was your father?"

"Could've been one of those gold-hatted bastards, for all I know." Gendry looked at Arry, who had said nothing, since hearing Lord Stark's name, "What about you anyway? You thought they were after you. Why?"

"I would like to know what as well," Laniel folded his arms.

"Did you kill someone or is it just because you're a girl?"

Gendry's question caught Laniel off-guard, "What?"

"I'm not a girl." Arry quickly responded.

"Yes, you are." Gendry retorted, "Do you think I'm as stupid as the rest of them?"

"Stupider," Arry snapped back, "The Night's Watch doesn't take girls, everyone knows that."

"Yeah, that's true, but you're still a girl." Gendry seemed adamant about his idea.

"I am not!"

Gendry stared at Arry. After a long pause, she finally relaxed and whispered, "No one can know."

"Well, they won't, not from me." Gendry said.

"Nor me," Laniel added.

"My name's not Arry. It's Arya... of House Stark. Yoren is taking me home to Winterfell."

"He was your father ... the Hand, the traitor." Gendry noted.

"He was never a traitor! Joffrey is a liar!"

"So you're a highborn, then. You're a lady."

"No. I mean, yes. My mother was a lady and my sister…"

Gendry was visibly flustered, "I ... I should be calling you 'My Lady'."

"Do not call me 'My Lady'."

"As My Lady commands." Both Gendry and Laniel bowed mockingly. Arya kicked both of them in the shins before walking off.

"Well, that was unladylike." Gendry snickered.

Laniel laughed and followed Arya. "You're very brave, I'll give you that."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I knew there was something different about you when you showed no fear to Shadowmere. And knowing that you're a girl makes it all that more impressive. But you have to be careful. Sometimes it's good to show a little fear. A little fear is healthy."

Arya stammered for a bit, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do. Back down the road. When you were dealing with those two crazy prisoners in the wagon. It was brave. But foolish too."

"The third one seemed nice." Arya added.

Laniel nodded, remembering the man with red and white hair, "That he did. But still … be careful."

"How will I know when to be brave, and when to be scared?"

Laniel shrugged, "I don't know. I think it'll come to you soon enough."

"Do you get scared?"

"Sometimes…"

"Are you scared about going to the Wall?"

Here was a long pause. "Yes."

King's Landing… Later that night…

"Do you know why Tyrion wants to see me?" Nakos asked Bronn as they walked through the hallways of King's Landing.

"Nope. But he said it was urgent."

They walked in silence for a few minutes.

"So, Sir Bronn…"

Bronn laughed, "I'm not a sir. I'm just a sellsword."

"Ah, a mercenary. I've met a few in my travels."

"Were they any good?"

"They were. But I was better. I just hired them because I was tired of traveling alone. Then I met Mjoll. And I haven't traveled with anybody else since."

"How long have you known each other?"

"About two and a half years. You know that sword she carries around?"

"I do."

"I helped her retrieve it. It's how we became good friends. Best friends, actually."

Bronn turned around, "So you two are not…"

Nakos shook his head, "No."

"Do you think she and I would…"

Nakos laughed out loud, "No! I know Mjoll, and you," he pointed to Bronn, "are not her type."

"Ah, well," Bronn sighed, "it was worth it to ask."

Nakos tapped Bronn on the back, "Don't worry. You'll find someone… hopefully."

Bronn playfully punched Nakos on the shoulder, and they both shared a laugh. They ended up at a tower. Bronn led Nakos up a few flights of stairs and into a dining room. There was Tyrion, sitting at a large dining table. When they entered, Tyrion got up to greet them, "Sir Nakos. Thank you for coming."

"My pleasure."

They approached the dining table and Tyrion gestured for Nakos to sit, "I hope you enjoy the food here. I went through quite a lot of trouble to bring it here."

Nakos took a leg of meat from the middle of the table, as well as some fruits, "I'm sure it is good." Tyrion offered him a goblet of wine, and Nakos accepted. It was then that he noticed a used plate at an empty seat, "Are we expecting someone else?"

Tyrion shook his head, "I had a previous guest here, and I… relieved him of his duty."

"Relieved of duty? A soldier, I take it?"

Tyrion smiled, "Very astute, Sir Nakos. Yes, it was Janos Slynt, former Commander of the City Watch."

"Former? You killed him?"

"Oh, no. I simply stripped him of his rank," Tyrion took a sip of wine from his goblet, "Janos was dishonorable and untrustworthy. He betrayed an innocent man, and as a result, that man was wrongfully executed. I could not have that kind of person in charge of the city soldiers." Tyrion motioned to Bronn, "I made Bronn the new Commander of the City Watch," Tyrion then motioned to Nakos, "And I would like you to be the co-commander."

Nakos was taken aback by the offer, "Why me?"

"I know you have experience in war. And a civil war at that. I think your experience as a soldier would be very helpful in protecting the city and its people."

Nakos took a sip of wine, "You're more trusting than your sister."

"I know people. And you seem like an honorable and trustworthy man. But I wonder. How does a man like you become the leader of an army and end a civil war?"

"How do you know I…"

"I told you. I know people. I can see it in your eyes. You've seen many things. Lost many friends. But even through all that, you still manage to be honorable and trustworthy." Tyrion leaned towards Nakos, "So tell me. Who is Nakos Nalldiir?"

Nakos put down the goblet and started from the beginning. He told Tyrion of his wrongful imprisonment and attempted execution back at Helgen three years ago. He told of his escape with Hadvar, leaving out the part about Alduin, instead claiming the prisoners revolted and attacked the Imperial guards. He reached his involvement in the civil war.

"Why was there civil war?" Tyrion inquired.

"It's… complicated."

Tyrion shrugged, "We have time."

Nakos sighed, "The Stormcloaks believed that the Empire betrayed Skyrim by signing a contract called the White-Gold Concordat with the Thalmor. The Concordat binded the Empire to several Thalmor demands, including the outlawing of Talos worship. The Stormcloaks felt that the Thalmor had too much influence over the Empire. But the Empire saw the Stormcloaks as traitors — partly because the Stormcloaks wanted to secede from the Empire and partly because of Ulfric killed High King Torygg. The Empire wanted to crush the rebellion and prevent it from taking control of Skyrim. I fought for the Empire and we drove the Stormcloaks out. At the end of the war, the last battle of the civil war, we attacked the city of Windhelm, killed Ulfric's men, and confronted him. General Tullius gave me a sword to kill Ulfric…"

"And did you?"

Nakos shook his head, "No. I wouldn't kill him. Tullius wanted to, but I wouldn't have Ulfric killed. As much as I disliked his prejudiced views, he was fighting for a just cause. The Thalmor did have too much influence over the Empire. They still do."

"Then why did you fight for the Empire and not the Stormcloaks?"

"At first I did. But after learning their true intent for Skyrim, I switched allegiances. I am all for independence from the Thalmor, but not at the cost of having Skyrim being a Nord-only land. All races should be welcome in Skyrim. Besides, the Empire hates the Thalmor as much as I do, especially General Tullius."

"Interesting," Tyrion gave a small smile, "You decided to show mercy. What happened to this... Ulfric?"

Nakos shrugged, "I don't know. They told the whole province that Ulfric was dead. But General Tullius told me that they had actually imprisoned him and his second-in-command, Galmar Stone-Fist. But he wouldn't tell me where." Nakos continued with his tales, telling Tyrion about joining the Thieves' Guild, the Dark Brotherhood, the Companions, and the Dawnguard. And he told him of his two adopted children, Sofie and Alesan. Throughout his tales, Nakos was sure to leave out everything about the dragons and about him being Dragonborn.

Tyrion smiled in amazement, "So you are a father?"

Nakos nodded, "I found Sofie in the city of Windhelm, selling flowers, living and sleeping on the streets. Windhelm is a very cold place. I couldn't very well leave her like that, could I?"

"And what about Alesan?"

"He was living in Dawnstar, bringing food to the miners."

"Incredible. You really are something. I think you'll be an excellent commander." He took a sip of wine, "But you say you are a thief… and an assassin? How do I know you won't steal from us? Or try to kill me or my sister in our sleep."

"I only steal from and kill those who deserve it. I never harm innocents." Nakos nodded in Bronn's direction, "Plus you made him commander, and he's a sellsword. Who knows what he's done in his past?"

Tyrion laughed, "True," he raised his goblet to toast, "Welcome, Co-commander. With you, we may win this civil war with the Starks yet."

Nakos frowned, "As I told your sister yesterday, I've already been in one civil war. I have no desire to fight in another."

"I apologize. I am not asking you to fight in this civil war. But I am asking you to help protect this city. There are women and children here. And as far as you know and until Queen Regent Cersei says otherwise, this is your home now."

Nakos nodded. There were innocent people here, women and children. He could not ignore them, and leave them to die. But at the same time it really didn't matter which side he chose to fight for, whether it was this civil war, or the civil war back in Skyrim. There were always going to be innocents on both sides. Nakos then thought of Mjoll, and of that innocent young woman who sat next to Joffrey a few days ago back when he first arrived at King's Landing. If he was to live here, and if King's Landing was to become his home, he would have to protect them and the people like them. Perhaps, like Mjoll was a savior to the people of Riften, he could be a savior to the people of King's Landing.

He raised his goblet, "I accept your offer, Lord Tyrion."

Tyrion smiled, "Please. Just call me Tyrion."

They shared a drink, and Nakos set his goblet down, "So Tyrion, I keep hearing about the Starks? Who are they?"

Tyrion cleared his throat, "It's a… long story."

Nakos leaned back in his chair, "I'm listening."

Mjoll had mixed emotions as she walked down the hallways of King's Landing to her newly assigned room. Nakos had told her of his conversation with Tyrion and about his new position as co-Commander of the City Watch. At first, Mjoll was suspicious and hesitant. But once Nakos told her of his feelings and how he saw this as an opportunity to help the people of King's Landing just as she helped the people of Riften, she was ecstatic. "I think I may be rubbing off on you," she had said. Tyrion was also gracious enough to offer both Mjoll and Nakos their own rooms in the castle.

But then her happiness turned to anger when Nakos filled her in on the current situation between the Starks and the Lannisters and all the events of the previous year, including the execution of Eddard Stark. This made Mjoll hate Joffrey and Cersei even more, if that were even possible.

As she rounded a corner, Mjoll spotted her assigned room. As she walked towards it, she passed by another room and heard crying on the other side. Mjoll stopped at the door and listened. It sounded like a girl. Whoever she was, she was trying their best not to be heard, but her cries still reached the door. By the girl's cries, Mjoll could tell the girl was in a lot of emotional pain.

"Is everything ok?" she knocked on the door. Silence. Mjoll knocked again, "Hello?"

The door opened, and there stood the young lady who sat next to Joffrey a few days ago when Mjoll first arrived at King's Landing.

Mjoll bowed, "I apologize, Lady Sansa. I did not mean to disturb you."

The young lady gave a little smile, "I remember you. You're Mjoll the Lioness. You were there at King Joffrey's Nameday."

"I was, my lady."

"You are quite a gifted fighter."

"Thank you, my lady. I heard you crying. I wanted to make sure everything was alright."

"I am fine, Lady Mjoll."

"Are you sure? You sounded frightened and scared."

"I am fine, Lady Mjoll."

Mjoll knew the direct approach was not going to work. Sansa looked very scared, though she did her best to hide it. Mjoll decided to take a different approach. "May I come in?"

Sansa hesitated, fear in her eyes.

"What are you afraid of?" Mjoll asked.

"I don't know if I should. What if Joffrey finds out you're here?"

"You think I'm afraid of him?"

"You should be. You don't know what he's capable of."

"And you've seen what I'm capable of. Trust me, I've dealt with worse people than him."

"Please… just go… I don't want Joffrey knowing you were here…"

Mjoll could tell that Sansa was terrified of Joffrey, and there was nothing that she could say to Sansa that would convince her to open up, even a little. Mjoll thought that she would have to concede… for now, "Well, if you ever want to talk to me. I'll be down this hall," Mjoll pointed to her new room, "In that room."

Sundas, the 18th of Sun's Dusk

King's Landing

Nakos made his way to his room carrying a large, heavy book: The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms. Tyrion was gracious enough to have Nakos borrow it from Grand Maester Pycelle, although Pycelle did not seem too pleased with the idea. The book was heavy enough that Nakos had to hold the book to his chest with two hands. He felt a little vulnerable, as he had no free hand to reach for his weapons, but then remembered that he didn't need his weapons. He had his Thu'um. But he did not want to use it until absolutely necessary.

Nakos quickened his pace as he approached his room. There was a lot on his mind that he wanted to investigate: the history of the kings, for one. But most importantly, he wanted to learn about Aegon Targaryen. Once he arrived at his room, he set the book down on his desk and immediately turned to the pages regarding Aegon Targaryen. It repeated what Tyrion had told him a few days ago when they saw the Iron Throne. But there was more to the story. What Nakos read made him speechless.

Aegon had not one, but three dragons: Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes. In the War of Conquest, Aegon and his sisters, Visenya and Rhaenys, rode their three dragons into battle. Aegon rode Balerion, Visenya rode Vhagar, and Rhaenys rode Meraxes. The dragons that Nakos fought in Skyrim seemed to pale in comparison to the way the book described Targaryen's dragons. It described Balerion as being so large that his shadow covered an entire town. Both Vhagar and Meraxes were large enough to swallow a horse whole.

Nakos continued to read on the conquests of the Targaryens. When he had finished, he stared dumbfounded at the book. A whole family riding dragons? Controlling dragons? Could it be that this whole family were Dragonborns? Was this whole family born with the soul of a dragon? The book never made any mention of the Targaryens using the Thu'um, or any powers like it. Perhaps that part was removed. Perhaps the authors decided not to mention it. Or perhaps they didn't know how to use it. Whatever the reason, Nakos knew that he needed to find out. Paarthurnax said that new dragon life has emerged. And if there were any Targaryens out there, they may know of it too, and it will be a race to control the new dragons. Nakos picked up the book and left, walking to Mjoll's room. He had to share his findings. As he rounded a corner, he bumped into someone.

"Excuse me, my apologizes…" Nakos saw who it was. It was the thin man who was at the Small Council.

"Ah, Nakos, wasn't it?" the man extended his hand, "Petyr Baelish."

Nakos nodded once in response, "I apologize for not shaking your hand. This book is rather heavy."

"No trouble at all. How are you enjoying your stay in King's Landing?"

"I like it, though I do miss Skyrim."

"I bet you do," Petyr looked down at the book Nakos was holding, "The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms. Quite heavy reading."

"It is… both literally and figuratively."

Petry's eyes narrowed a little, "What interest do you have in that book?"

"I am simply interested in learning about the histories of this realm. After all, it seems as if I will be here a while, since Lady Cersei has imprisoned me here in King's Landing."

"I wouldn't call it an imprisonment."

"Then what would you call it?"

Petyr didn't answer his question, but simply shrugged, "Did you read anything interesting in this book?"

"Not much," Nakos lied, "I thought it would be a narrative, and thus serve as an interesting read. But it's more like a chronicle. I got quite bored of it."

"I'm sure you did."

Nakos turned to leave, "I should be going."

"Sir Nakos," Petyr called out, "If you wish to return the book, Pycelle's room is this way." He pointed in the opposite direction.

"I know. I am giving the book to Mjoll. She has an interest in learning the histories as well, and the chronicles won't put her to sleep like they did me." He turned to leave, "Have a good day, Petyr."

Petyr bowed slightly, but said nothing.

Morndas, the 19th of Sun's Dusk

King's Landing

The walk back to his room was still confusing to Nakos. Today was his first official day as co-commander of the City Watch. He and Bronn came to an agreement that Nakos would be in charge during the day, and Bronn would take over at night. The myriad of hallways and sharp turns made navigating the Red Keep, and the darkness didn't help. Though there were several braziers and torches lighting the hallways, there were still many dark corners and it was easy to get lost.

As Nakos navigated through the mazes of hallways, he thought about the conversation he and Mjoll had about the Targaryen family from the book. She was just as shocked as he was to learn that they rode dragons.

"Do you think they were Dragonborn too?" she had asked.

"I don't know. But that's the only possible explanation," He had flipped through the pages, "According to this book, they rode the dragons, conquering everything before them. I don't think it's possible to control or even ride a dragon without being a Dragonborn."

"So now what are you going to do?"

"Now I need to find the new dragons. If the Targaryens were really Dragonborn, then I bet one of their descendants is out there, too. And if they are Dragonborn as well, who knows what they can do with those dragons."

Nakos finally arrived at his room. His hallway was shrouded in darkness. As Nakos opened the door, he froze. It was pitch black inside, save for some beams of moonlight shining through the window. The wall torch and brazier were unlit. Nakos had left them lit before he left.

He instantly crouched and slowly stepped through the open door, using the shadows as cover. He slowly closed the door, making sure not to make a sound. He quietly drew the crossbow from his back and slowly notched a bolt. The gears made a slight squeaking noise, making Nakos cringe. He heard movement from across the room, but he could see nothing. Luckily, if anyone else was in here, they did not see him come in, but the noise from the crossbow may have given his location away.

Nakos knew he had to act quickly. "Laas Yah Nir!" he whispered. Immediately, three red auras materialized, showing Nakos where the intruders were hiding. One was next to his bed, the second was next to the window, and the third was on the right wall of the room, apparently waiting for someone to walk through the door. Nakos aimed his crossbow at the head of the third man and fired. He heard the steel bolt fly whistle through the air and strike flesh. The red aura collapsed onto the floor and dissipated, indicating the intruder was killed.

The two other attackers quietly ran at Nakos, each still surrounded by a red aura. He quickly notched another bolt, aimed, and took a deep breath. Time seemed to slow down to half its speed as the two men drew nearer. Nakos aimed at the closer man's head and fired. His head snapped back from the impact and he fell to the floor dead. The third man swung and stabbed at Nakos with a dagger, but Nakos parried the blows with the crossbow. He hit the man's temple with his elbow, and the intruder fell to the ground. Nakos gave him another strike in the head with the cross bow, and quickly attempted to notch another bolt. A slash to the left leg stopped him, and he grunted, falling to one knee. The attacker kicked Nakos onto his back, and got on top. The man held the dagger above his head and tried to bring it down into Nakos' chest.

"Yol." Nakos whispered. A small gout of flame sprouted from Nakos' lips, striking the man in the chest and face. He screamed in pain and tried to bat down the flames. Nakos quickly reached for his calf sheath, drew the Blade of Woe and drove it into the man's throat, silencing him. He pushed the man from on top of him, and stood up. The pain in his left leg made it difficult to put weight on it. Nakos raised his hand; ribbons of golden light appeared, swirling all around him. He could feel the cut healing, and it stung. He grimaced in pain, but soon the cut healed, and the pain dissipated.

After lighting the brazier with a soft yol, and using the brazier to light the wall torch, he began searching the bodies. There was nothing on any of them, except for a dagger. He took the three daggers and placed them in a chest at the foot of the bed. He would have to examine them later. He dragged the bodies out onto the balcony and was about to dump them over when he stopped short. If he had been attacked…

"Mjoll!"

He snatched up his crossbow and the Blade of Woe and ran out the door.