Sister's Keeper
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Chapter 36: The Doom of Valyria
Another cough burst from my lips into a small fit. After four days since the dragon incident in the catacombs, the smoke has yet to leave my lungs. So far, some Meereenese tea has helped ease the discomfort and a lot of warm water. Otherwise, it will be a while before my breathing gets back to normal. If only it weren't a pain to sleep without waking up to a fit of coughs.
But simple coughing wasn't an issue. No, I had to reopen the fighting pits. In a few weeks, murder will be a source of entertainment for the people. Hizdahr and I made it clear only free men enter the arena, no slaves or prisoners. The Pit Master assured me there would be no slaves or prisoners in the Great Games. The Great Games will begin before the wedding. After all the bloodshed the Great Games will end with a royal wedding.
Wedding, having no choice but to marry a leader of an ancient family to secure peace between the Meereenese and Targaryens. Out of all the candidates of the Master family, Hizdahr zo Loraq holds some potential. I mean in all our encounters we keep things professional and correct one another if there was a misunderstanding. We both want peace for our people. If the Sons of the Harpy are acting out because of my limitation, then a Meereenese king could settle the score. A political marriage forged to keep the peace.
I will not be pleased in the ritual that will have to be performed for a woman. As Hizdahr's female relatives will examine my womb and other parts to ensure my fertility. Three Graces witnessing the ancient ritual, and recite prayers while being naked. Once the ceremony is complete, we eat a cake that no man could eat. After the wedding, there is another ritual that needs to be performed, as the bride washes the groom's feet, signifying that she was her husband handmaiden. However, to do the status of power, Hizdahr will be washing my feet. Although, I made a notice that we will be washing each other's feet. As we do these fifty eunuchs sing to us. The actual wedding will be at the Temple of the Graces, taking about four hours, and when we emerge from the Temple, we will bound together by wrist and ankle with chains of gold.
Only that I do not love Hizdahr zo Loraq. Do I respect him? Yes. Do I find him attractive? He has a unique handsomeness. However, I made a vow that the next man that I marry will be out of love. To be selfish and not let traditions control me. Also…I was still recovering from a broken heart. Even after five months, I still had feelings for Jorah Mormont. Even though he betrayed me…I just couldn't let go. He was my companion, friend, mentor, advisor, general, and lover. Jorah taught me how to fight. He helped me understand things when I'm confused. He understood war, what a soldier thinks, and knowledge on a battlefield as a soldier in both Westeros and the Golden Company.
But most importantly, Jorah saw me as…well, me. When I told him to stop calling me Your Grace, and by my name, he kept to it. Other than Daenerys, Jorah called me Alysanne. When I ask him of something, he would reply, "As you wish."
And yet he betrayed me from the first. He spied on my family since our arrival in Pentos. Sent letters to the spymaster Varys. Reporting on our whereabouts, Daenerys marriage to Khal Drogo, and…the pregnancy. If Jorah hadn't reported about the pregnancy, then the Wine Merchant wouldn't have attempted to assassinate us. Drogo wouldn't have seen it as an omen for war. The Khalasar wouldn't have gone south to Lhazar to capture slaves, and encountering Mirri Maz Duur.
Most importantly…Rhaego could've been alive. Not killed and deformed by that witch. I held my stillborn nephew for two days while Daenerys fought her fever. The Stallion who mounts the world and the heir to the Iron Throne. Rhaego Targaryen who can keep the name and bloodline going. And Jorah made that decision in exchange for a pardon and possibly an annulment.
I wonder where he is right now? Is he back in Westeros, returned to his status of Lord of Bear Island? Or is he wandering around Essos serving his sword as a sellsword? It does not matter. He betrayed me. If I ever see him again in Meereen…
The doors burst open as Daenerys barged into the study. I glanced up from my papers glaring at her. It has been four days since I last saw Daenerys and talked to her. Do I hate my sister? No. But I am beyond angry and mad at her for what she did? As punishment, she is locked in her chambers with Unsullied guards by the door. She is allowed to be out with Missandei in the terrace garden.
"What's this, that I hear about a arrange marriage?" Daenerys demanded.
I opened my mouth to speak, except she continued.
"You promised me I would never be in a arrange marriage." She yelled. "I can marry whoever I wanted unless you disapprove."
"Are you finish?" I asked, setting the paper down.
Daenerys stood there glaring at me.
"I'll take your silence as a yes," I concluded. "You are not getting married."
"Then why are people talking about Hizdahr zo Loraq marrying a Targaryen?" she asked.
"Because I'm marrying Hizdahr zo Loraq," I answered. "In order to fix the damages you've made."
Her violet eyes widen, "No. Alys, no. You deserve better."
"It's too late," I sighed. "The Masters want a secure alliance and have a leader of an ancient family as King while one of the Freemen as Protector of the Realm. Including reopening the fighting pits."
"But…"
"No buts, if you had listened to me and not betray me, we wouldn't be in this mess," I scolded.
"I didn't betray you," she said.
"I ordered a summoning with both councils to discuss the matters. You disobeyed my order and took them to the catacombs where the dragons rest. What the hell were you thinking?"
"I thought I could intimidate them, to make them afraid and comply."
"They were already afraid of us with twelve thousand men and three dragons. They already hate us for abolishing slavery. What you did was not an olive branch. It was a threat. One that the Sons of the Harpy could use against us. If Master Nasr had died would be the end of everything I built. Why do you do this to me? Do the complete opposite than what I asked?"
"They killed thirteen of our men."
"And we killed more of them. Right now, we have a third party that is paying mercenaries to attack Meereen from the inside. I need to find the head of the Sons of the Harpy. Find the men who are sponsoring them. Because I have a feeling, it's not just a Great Master against us."
"What do you mean?"
"Dany, we've chopped off the head of the snake for slavery. Slaver's Bay is the primary source. However, there are the Free Cities who get their slaves from here. Along with the Dothraki."
Daenerys sighed, knowing I had a point.
"Right now, you are a risk. Until I can trust you again, you don't have command over the Unsullied. Guards will protect you, and keep to a schedule."
"You can't do that."
"I can and I will. You betray me, and I have enough people betraying me in a single year."
Daenerys eyes widen.
"If you weren't my sister, I would have put you on trial. Do you know what the punishment is for treason in Westeros if found guilty? Hanged, drawn, and quartered or burnt at the stake. On your royal status, it would have been a beheading by sword. For the love I have for you, this is your last chance. It's time to grow up and learn about hierarchy. I want us to rule Westeros together, yet this impulsive behavior…is becoming like Father. And we vowed not to be trap in his legacy."
"I'm sorry," she mumbled. She looked down ashamed, "And Daario?"
"I'm tempted to emasculate him since I have my suspicions, he had a major part in it," I muttered.
Daenerys gulped.
"But since you value his cock, he is on suspension. Follow by stable duty, mucking up the stalls."
She sighed in relief.
"Now go, I have work to do."
"Alys-"
"Leave! I'm beyond angry with you and holding my tongue."
Realizing I could say things that can ruin our relationship, she sighed and left. Once the door was shut, I bow my head taking several deep breaths to control my emotions. Sadly, the walls tumbled, and I sobbed. I try so hard to be perfect as any Targaryen in order to restore my family name. Not to show weakness and vulnerability. And yet, I have to sacrifice my happiness, my freedom for the good of others. I could have arranged a marriage between Daenerys and Hizdahr; nevertheless, I didn't. I could have gone with the plan of killing all the leaders of each ancient family to stop the Harpies.
There so many violent ways in which I could defeat my enemies…again, that is not me. I am not one for death. My family was slaughter in Robert's Rebellion. Rhaegar crushed to death, Rhaenys, Aegon, and Elia devil and butchered, and Father stabbed in the back. The war added stress to my mother that her pregnancy was high risk and died during childbirth. Viserys was plagued with Madness because the world rejected him. Now Daenerys and I remained, and our views of the ruling are entirely opposite. There is one more Targaryen, Aemon who is a Maester for the Night's Watch, yet he bound by duty. Although, I pray I have an opportunity to meet him. Otherwise, two houses have dragons' blood.
The anxiety was building up, tightening my chest that it hurt. I feel utterly alone. Even with Missandei, Grey Worm, and Ser Barristan by my side …it's not enough. And the one person who helped me through this was exiled. Jorah was my support, and he betrayed me.
Sometimes I wonder if I didn't choose the conqueror ring. What if Daenerys and I sold the dragon eggs and lived our lives as rich women? All the stress and anxiety would be gone. However, millions of people would still be enslaved.
I suddenly fell into a fit of coughs.
.o0o.
Jorah's POV
The exiled knight kept focus as he led the sailboat to a restricted area. Many sailors advise to never go near these lands unless they have shadowbinding charms sealed on their backs. However, it was the safest route against pirates. The only land pirates feared. The land of the forgotten, Valyria. All his years he never went to Valyria. Nothing there but ruins.
A groan caught Jorah's attention, indicating Tyrion was waking up. On occasions, Jorah would knock Tyrion out for some silence. Hearing nothing but the seas and seagulls, needing a quiet surrounding to listen for other ships. The last thing they need is being captured by pirates and sold into slavery.
"Don't worry. I'll be fine. Nothing broken, I don't think.," Tyrion muttered. "Where are we now? Not the Rhoyne."
Jorah did not answer.
"Long, sullen silences and an occasional punch in the face. The Mormont way."
Jorah continued to ignore him.
"Let's start over. I apologize for before. My mouth sometimes runs away from me. This doesn't have to be an unpleasant trip. We're going to be spending a lot of time together on the way to Meereen."
"We are," Jorah finally said.
"What would make out time together truly enjoyable would be some wine," Tyrion suggested.
"No wine," Jorah said.
Jorah didn't have enough time to get wine, nor does he need his senses dull. When he travels, he doesn't drink? Other than his wallowing, he was trying to get himself back together before seeing Alysanne. She had high expectations when it came to her Small Council — needing her Generals and Commanders to have a clear mind.
Tyrion scowled, clenching his fist, "I am a person who drinks. People who drink need to keep drinking. Otherwise, they're not…"
The knight saw what he was looking and stood up. Upon the horizon was a derelict island hidden among the fog and mist. Tyrion looked over his shoulder seeing the ruins.
"You're taking us through Valyria," Tyrion said.
"I am," Jorah confirmed.
"Have you sailed this route before?" Tyrion asked,
"No," Jorah answered.
"You're going to bring Alysanne a souvenir from her ancestral homeland in case I'm not enough?" Tyrion asked.
"I think you'll be plenty," Jorah assured.
"You know what they say. The Doom still rules Valyria. What about the demons and the flames? Aren't you afraid of the Doom?"
"No," Jorah said sitting back down. "But pirates are."
"Oh," Tyrion sighed.
Jorah also believed that the Doom was a volcanic eruption. There were two possible theories in what started the Doom of Valyria. The most logical was that a volcano erupted destroying all in its wake and turn a region into several islands. The lava so hot it killed the dragons when splutter through the air, along with debris, fire, and smoke. A cataclysm that quakes the earth and risen the tsunamis to drown the lands. The second theory was that the dragon warlocks were doing a spell that retaliated into creating demons. Those demons remain killing all of the Valyrians and dragons, leaving nothing but stone and poison water.
In the end, the Doom of Valyria caused the collapse of a great empire. The beginning to the end of the dragon and the dragon riders. Now three dragons remain and two riders.
However, Jorah knew that they need to be careful for the Stone Men to resign in these parts. From what he could recall, they were entering the ruined city. They will travel the Smoking Sea and hopefully reach Oros. There they can restock on supplies since there was inhabitant there who keep the Stone men away. Any land before Tyria was a risk in encountering a Stoneman. People plague with Greyscale severely doomed in a cursed death sentence.
Time went on as they sailed the waters highly alerted. Seeing the ruins of architecture, they never have seen before. Seeing topless towers, and statues of sphinxes and dragons. They were everywhere covered in vines, moss, and greenery — a sense of melancholy, a sorrow peace.
"The Smoking Sea. How many centuries before we learn how to build cities like this again?" Tyrion asked. "For thousands of years, the Valyrians were the best in the world at almost everything. And then…"
"And then they weren't," Jorah murmured.
"And then they weren't," Tyrion repeated in agreement. After a while, the dwarf started to quote a poem. "They held each other close and turned their backs upon the world. The hills that split asunder and the black that ate the skies; The flames that shot so high and hot that even dragons burned; Would never be the final sights, that fell upon their eyes. A fly upon a wall that waves the sea wind whipped and churned—"
Jorah listened to this as he lost himself in memory back in Yunkai. Alysanne in her evening robes was glancing out into the ocean. Unaware he was there, as she quoted the poem of her ancestors. A dragoness in all her beauty, hair illuminating under the moonlit sky. The night they first made love. Not a care in who they were other than their true selves.
"The city of a thousand years and all that men had learned; The Doom consumed it all alike, and neither of them turned," Jorah finished, glancing at Tyrion.
The dwarf was impressed, lifting his tied-up hands, "I would clap."
Jorah gave a slight snort then focus back what lies ahead.
"I suppose this is it, then," Tyrion said. "This is what remains."
They were crossing through a crumbling bridge when seeing a dark mass approaching. Both men looked up, in awe seeing it was a dragon. Jorah analyzing it further, seeing it was black and red, confirms it to be Drogon. Daenerys's dragon. Seeing the dragon no longer the size of a horse. Not sure what to compare its size too, maybe that of an elephant? Tyrion stood up eyes widen in amazement and awe and fear. They were a distraction by Drogon that their concentration broke when hearing a splash. Both men looked up ahead, seeing a disturbance in the water as ripples form.
"What was that?" Tyrion asked.
Jorah scowled, standing up trying to guide the tiller to maneuver the sailboat away from the bridge. However, it was too late. Still on guard, he decided to reach for his sword, when all of a sudden something jumped onto the ship. The impact of surprise startled them, seeing a giant mass of grey in human form. It hissed and growl, eyes bloodshot red, teeth yellow, and skin grey and cracked, it resembles stone.
"Stone Men! Don't let them touch you!" Jorah warned.
Tyrion stumbled back as the Stoneman leaped towards him. The dwarf was trying to make the distance. Jorah grabbed one of the oars and struck the Stoneman shoving it away from Tyrion. It hisses, lashing at him, that Jorah pulled back while trying to push the infectious man off the boat. The Stoneman grabbed the oar, waving its hand to touch him. Another jumped on the ship, heading toward Tyrion. The dwarf grabbed a crab cage trying to use it as a shield. Jorah noticed this gave one more shove knocking his opponent back in the water. Quickly, reaching forward grabbing Tyrion and yank the half-man behind him.
"Get behind," Jorah order.
The second Stoneman lashed out, luckily Jorah blocked it with the oar.
"Mormont, cut me free!" Tyrion yelled.
That distracted Jorah that the second Stoneman took hold of the oar and swung at Jorah almost knocking him overboard. Jorah grabbed the oar again and pushed the Stoneman off the boat. He turned around seeing the first one back on board, followed by a third jumping from the beams. Immediately, Jorah grabbed his sword and sliced the third in the stomach before thrusting the blade into the chest. Something wet touched his left wrist. Before Jorah could comprehend, he kicked the Stoneman off the ship. Looking up, he saw Tyrion rolled off the boat preventing the first Stoneman from touching him.
The first Stoneman hissed, jumping up turning to Jorah. The exiled knight corrected his grip and waited for the Stoneman to strike. It lashed forward and taking the opportunity Jorah decapitated partially. Either way, the infectious man was dead falling back into the boat. Jorah cursed since he couldn't move the body without the risk of being infected. The entire boat was compromised since the stone men touched everything.
When Tyrion didn't emerge from the water, Jorah realized the half-man is drowning. Having no choice, he jumped into the water to save Tyrion. The dwarf was being pulled down by a Stoneman from his boot. However just as Jorah was about to grab Tyrion the creature let go sinking to the bottom. Jorah took this opportunity to collect Tyrion and swam to the service.
Knowing the grounds were not safe, Jorah kept to the water swimming, backward while maintaining a secure hold on Tyrion. Making sure the Lannister's head was above the water. Although, he was mistaken about dwarves being lightweight.
.o0o.
Back on the shores of Essos, Jorah panted exhausted after dragging Tyrion onto the beach. He set the Lannister down and gently shoved his shoulder in trying to wake him. Not sure if the prisoner drowned already from the Stone Men or the long swim. And the last thing he wanted to do is a revival trick.
"Tyrion. Tyrion. Tyrion?" Jorah panted, seeing the Lannister eyes fluttered. "Tyrion. Tyrion. Tyrion!"
This woken Tyrion coughed sitting up while spitting out water. Jorah helped him sit up properly.
"You're all right," Jorah said, pulling out his dagger and cut the ropes that retrained Tyrion's wrist. "You're heavier than you look. Did any of them touch you?"
Tyrion shook his head, "You?"
Jorah paused thinking about it and shook his head.
"I've seen greyscale before, but nothing like that." Tyrion panted.
"I suppose that's why they send them there," Jorah panted.
"It'd be kinder to put daggers in their hearts and be done with it," Tyrion said.
Jorah spat some water.
"Thank you for saving me," Tyrion said. "Of course, I wouldn't have needed saving if you hadn't kidnapped me in the first place. So, what now?"
Jorah rolled his eyes as he stood up, "We walked up to the coast. With luck, we'll find a fishing village. Maybe another boat."
"Without luck?" Tyrion asked, rubbing his wrist.
"We've got a long walk ahead of us," Jorah answered, examining the area. "I'll get some wood for a fire. Try to get some rest, huh?"
Tyrion scoffed, "That's the best idea you've had all day."
Seeing that Tyrion won't run, Jorah left to find some firewood. As he walked along the shore, he stopped staring at the ruins in one of the abandon cities where they swim out of — seeing the buildings and towers being disguised by the fog. Examining the dangerous beauty of what the Valyrians reside in. Thoughts were lingering in the stories, and Alysanne was quoting the poem.
Suddenly he felt a tightness in his left forearm as if his skin was being stretched and ripped until hardening like a callous. He tensed, carefully rolling up his sleeve on his left arm to reveal a small patch of skin stiff and cracked. His blue eyes widen, for he was sure the Stone Men didn't touch him. Then he thought back to using his sword and the blood splatter. His sleeves were rolled up at the time, and though he kept much distance, a drop made contact to his skin.
Jorah tried to think of the options. He could cut off the infected tissue and burn it to sterilize the area. Or he could cut his left arm off. However, there is a chance the disease is in his system. If he had vinegar, he would be able to reduce the spread. In the end, he comprehended he was a dead man. There was no documented cure for greyscale other than cutting the limb off and pray to any god he has been a cure.
Glancing over his shoulder seeing Tyrion catching his breath while watching the sunset knew there was no other option. The Lannister has no chance of survival in these parts of Essos. Knowing that if Alysanne doesn't kill Tyrion out of revenge, the dwarf may be of use to her. Accepting death, he had a mission to get Tyrion to Meereen. Knowing he can never be with the woman that he loves ever again. Not prepared to risk spreading the infection on Alysanne. If he were to die, all he could ask is to be forgiven.
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