The Keeper

Chapter 50 – Flame Keeper

"The dragon must have three heads," Brienne said.

Podrick looked away from Serdun, who had just made its slow but controlled landing at the water's edge. Her squire's eyebrows furrowed as he stared at her. Ardayn and Gallan, calm under his hands, also turned to her.

"Rhaegar's belief?" he asked. "What made you think of that?"

Brienne nodded to Griff's new sigil. "King Aegon combined the symbols of the house of the sun with the house of the dragon. They're both equal on his standard."

"That's because King Aegon is both the son of the sun and the blood of the dragon," Podrick pointed out. "He represents both equally so it follows his sigil will represent them equally."

She shook her head. "But the future of humanity doesn't rest solely on him. It's the army of men who will stand against the Army of the Dead. The three heads of the dragon, fighting as one, will defeat the Night King."

Serdun squawked and leapt closer to them. Gallan and Ardayn shifted aside to make room as the injured dragon's powerful leap brought it to stand beside them. Brienne and Podrick watched as Ardayn and Gallan squawked back to Serdun. The dragons shared a conversation they couldn't understand before the three settled onto the outcrop revealed by the outgoing tide. They spread out their wings to soak in the sunshine.

"Look at the dragons," Brienne urged. "Do you see how they interact? Gallan and Ardayn know where Serdun is, keep it between them to compensate for its injury, communicate constantly and even now, are guarding Serdun as much as they're guarding us."

Podrick looked at the three, noting how the dragons faced outward. Gallan and Ardayn faced the castle, the most likely point of attack. Serdun faced the water, where an attack was less likely given that three Golden Fleet ships blocked the Blackwater Bay. The dragons were alert but relaxed, enjoying the sun while protecting their family.

"That's how House Targaryen must be," Brienne insisted. "The dragons always look out for each other and for us. Even Drogon and Rhaegal came when the five needed them. The dragons work as a team. The human members of House Targaryen must also do the same."

"How is that possible if Daenerys continues to march north with Jon Snow and King Aegon remains in the capitol?" Podrick questioned.

"It isn't," Brienne answered. "Both Targaryens want the same goal, to defeat the Night King and rule Westeros. They each have their own plans and strategies. I don't think that's what the Gods want. I believe House Targaryen must work together to defeat the Night King, to have three heads but only one body."

Podrick became thoughtful. "There are currently only two Targaryens. Perhaps they could marry to become a single body but there is no third head."

Marry.

Brienne's heart began to beat faster. The sudden rush of heat clogged her throat and made sweat break out along her back. Podrick's suggestion was reasonable. It was customary, in previous generations of Targaryens, to marry within their bloodline, to wed brother to sister or uncle to niece, to keep their line pure. Such unions were forbidden by the Faith but the Targaryens had continued the practice. The only reason Rhaegar had married Elia was because he had no female relatives to marry.

Could Griff and Daenerys marry and rule Westeros together? They would be able to share the joys and pains of ruling by combining their ambitions and goals. They were both intelligent, strong and kind, able to understand the advantages of such a union. For every miserable marriage such as Aerys and Rhaella, there were happy, successful unions as Aegon the First had enjoyed with Rhaenys. Then she remembered what Griff had said to her the night before she returned to Westeros.

"Bloodlines can be too pure, Brienne," Griff insisted. "They say every time a Targaryen is born; the Gods toss a coin and the world holds its breath. We have been spared that madness. The only way to avoid such weakness is to draw in other bloodlines."

She drew a deep breath and the tightness in her throat eased. "The king doesn't agree with that philosophy. He said pure bloodlines breed madness. I don't think he needs to marry Daenerys to form the heads of the dragon."

Podrick took a moment to consider that. "Rhaegar believed he would father the three heads of the dragon. He thought they would be the second coming of the original Targaryen king and his queens. He even named his children after those rulers."

"Yes, Rhaenys and Aegon," Brienne agreed. "He was expecting to father a third child, probably a daughter. But he died at the Trident and Princess Rhaenys died during the sacking of King's Landing."

"If Rhaegar had lived and defeated Robert at the Trident, then Princess Rhaenys would have lived, too," Podrick pointed out. "Then, after Daenerys was born, Rhaegar would have had his three-headed dragon with his daughter, his son and his sister."

Brienne considered it. "No, that wouldn't have followed the Gods' plan. King Aegon wouldn't have known to become the Sword of the Morning unless he had to prove he was the son of the sun. If Rhaegar had lived, King Aegon wouldn't have Dawn to take into battle. Nor would Daenerys have birthed the dragons that allowed her to become the Mother of Dragons, Queen of Meereen and Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea."

Podrick was quiet for a long time, so long that Brienne looked at him. He was staring out into the bay but his eyes had the unfocused look of one who was lost in their own thoughts. She allowed him his thoughts and looked back at the sigil of Aegon Martell Targaryen.

The dragon must have three heads.

Podrick looked around, as if to assure himself no one was close enough to overhear them. The dragons also looked around, reminding them that they were on duty. No one could approach them without alerting their fierce, fire-breathing guards.

"My Lady Ser." Podrick spoke slowly, his voice hesitant, as if he was afraid of offending her with his words. "Have you considered you are the third head of the dragon?"

Brienne stared at him, so shocked, it took her a moment to find breath to deny the idea. How could she, a plain, too-tall, too-broad, too-masculine secret Targaryen be an heir to the House of the Dragon? She hadn't gotten their famed beauty and grace, had no clear ties to their bloodline and had no desire to rule. If it weren't for the young dragons that had blessed her life, she would never have believed she had even a single drop of the blood of the dragon.

"I'm not a descendant of Queen Rhaella's line," she reminded him. "The woods witch foretold it. That's why Aerys and Rhaella were forced to marry by their father."

"No, the witch foretold the prince who was promised would be of their line," Podrick corrected. "She didn't say all three heads of the dragon had to be from their line. Rhaegar believed it to be true, but why?"

Brienne gasped as she remembered her father speaking at the Chamber of the Painted Table.

"Prince Rhaegar was brought up to believe in the prophecy," Selwyn went on. "He thought he was the prince who was promised. He believed he was destined have three children. Those three children would have the blood of the dragon and thus allow dragons to be reborn."

"You knew my brother?" Daenerys demanded.

"I knew him as my prince, your Grace. He knew me because I was a friend of Jon Connington. Jon was one of the prince's closest friends and the finest man I ever knew." Selwyn frowned, his gaze far-away as his thoughts returned to the past. "Jon confided in me he was worried about the Prince. He said Rhaegar had come back to the city after a trip to Dragonstone, very disturbed. The Prince took to his rooms and immersed himself in studying scrolls. After a few days, he announced he'd become a knight."

"I've been told my brother was already a great warrior," Daenerys frowned.

"He was, your Grace," Selwyn agreed. "A knight is the next level of warrior. He devoted himself to becoming a knight after that trip and what he found in those scrolls. Then Prince Aegon was born. He, like my Brienne, was born on the night of the red comet. That's when Rhaegar became fixated on the idea of producing three children to be the three heads of the dragon."

"Remember what my father said about Rhaegar when we were on Dragonstone?" Brienne spoke quickly, eager to share her thoughts. "He said Rhaegar had come back to King's Landing after a visit to Dragonstone, very disturbed."

Podrick nodded. "Yes, Lord Selwyn said Rhaegar immersed himself in study when he returned then announced he'd become a knight."

"Correct," Brienne agreed. "Father said Rhaegar became a knight after that trip to Dragonstone and what he learned from the scrolls he studied. That's when he started to believe he would be father to the three heads of the dragon."

"But how do we know which scrolls he studied? Most of his personal belongings were destroyed in the sacking of King's Landing or when Robert took over the Red Keep," Podrick reminded her.

Excitement rushed through her, so quick and strong, it alerted the dragons. They all sat up and looked around, sniffing the air to find the source of her suddenly spiking emotions. Finding none, the dragons shifted closer to them, calm but alert.

"Scrolls are only written records of events, Podrick, not the events themselves," Brienne insisted. "We might be able to learn that information from a different source. Who do we know who has studied history, reads in multiple languages, keeps detailed notes of everything he learns and was raised by one of Rhaegar's closest friends?"

"King Aegon, of course," Podrick replied promptly. "If the king knows what Rhaegar knew then why hasn't he told us?"

Brienne's eyes sparkled as she warmed to her idea. "Because he doesn't know what he knows."

Podrick stared at her. "I don't understand."

"It's possible the king has the information but doesn't understand its value," Brienne explained. "The saltwater priest told us my destiny was foretold in the stars before I was born. We had the information but we didn't know what it meant at the time. It wasn't until I saw Bright Star, Lightning and Starfall together that I understood the importance of what we already knew."

Podrick's eyes brightened as he considered. Along with being loyal, honorable and steady, he was also intelligent and trustworthy. Talking out her thoughts and frustrations with him allowed her to examine her ideas, judge their value and understand their significance. He was carefully considering her explanation, probing it for weaknesses and faults. As she watched expectantly, the light in his eyes dimmed as he frowned.

"How can we help the king understand the value of information he already has?" Podrick asked. "Simply telling him he knows important information isn't enough. He would have told you if he already knew how to form the three-headed dragon. We don't know what Rhaegar knew. We don't know what triggered him to begin his research."

Brienne smiled. "No, but we do know where it was triggered. Perhaps the king, who is already well-learned, will understand what Rhaegar did. The wealth on Dragonstone was plundered by the Baratheons and their supporters. The physical structures, however, are still intact from before Robert became king."

"True," Podrick agreed. "We saw the carvings on the walls, the enormous table of Westeros, the cave drawings, the mounds of dragonglass and the stone dragons on the parapets. Do you think any of those triggered Rhaegar?"

Brienne shook her head. "I don't know. King Aegon came from Dorne, where he presented his claim as Princess Elia's son. Then he came to King's Landing to distract attention from what his men were doing in his name and to take control of the capitol. I don't think he's even been to Dragonstone."

"Perhaps he doesn't need to go," Podrick suggested. "I drew pictures of the cave drawings, the wall carvings and even some of the fearsome stone dragons. You said I was a good artist and my Dragonstone drawings were almost perfect replicas."

He blushed as he said it. Brienne smiled, remembering that day she'd complimented him in the council chambers soon after Daenerys had claimed King's Landing. His blush was almost as bright as it had been then. Podrick was as unused to compliments as she was. He was also learning to accept them gracefully. The dragons, picking up in Podrick's spiking emotions, looked around curiously, unsure of what had caused it.

"That's an excellent idea, Pod," she agreed warmly. "Maybe he'll see something in the drawings that will trigger a memory. We might learn what Rhaegar knew and how he planned to use the three heads of the dragon. Merely having three children, or two children and his sister, wasn't enough to form the three heads of the dragon."

"The three heads of the dragon," Podrick repeated, his blush fading as his expression became thoughtful again. "Why not Visenya?"

Brienne frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

Podrick spoke slowly, as if considering his thoughts as he explained them. "We agree Rhaegar expected to be the father of the three heads of the dragon. He named his son Aegon and his first daughter Rhaenys. If he planned to create the second coming of the original Targaryen rulers, why didn't he name his daughter Visenya? She was the elder sister, born before her brother."

Brienne considered that. "That would have made sense. Visenya, the first born, was a fierce fighter who was trained alongside her brother. Unlike most Westerosi lords, her father raised her to be a warrior."

Podrick considered that. "A warrior queen, like Queen Nymeria?"

"Visenya was a greater warrior than Nymeria," Brienne explained. "Queen Nymeria led her forces into battle but didn't fight alongside them. Queen Visenya not only cut down assassins attempting to murder King Aegon, she even created and selected the first Kingsguard to surround him with fighters as elite as she was."

"The Targaryen's were from Valyria," Podrick reminded her. "Like the Dornish, they expect women to be powerful. Clearly, Visenya's father wanted her to continue that tradition. Rhaegar expected his daughter to be a great warrior and queen. Elia, being from Dorne, would also have wanted her daughter to be a warrior, like the first Targaryen queen. If so, why did Rhaegar name their daughter after the younger Targaryen sister? The first Rhaenys was a dragonrider but not skilled in combat, as Visenya was."

Brienne shook her head. "Perhaps it was Elia's choice? From what I've heard, she and Rhaegar were close friends, even if their marriage wasn't a great passion. She may have wanted to name her daughter after her husband. If her health and the Gods had allowed it, she might have named their third child Visenya."

Podrick was about to reply when the dragons hissed and puffed. Brienne and Podrick both put their hands on the sword hilts as they turned to face the threat. It was a young servant, shaking visibly as he looked down from the top of the wall. He bowed but was so frightened that he nearly toppled over. As he regained his balance and his wits, Brienne and Podrick hurried to calm Ardayn and Gallan. Serdun, who had clearly had enough of being held, stretched out its wings and squawked. The green dragon remained at its position, alert and ready, but calm.

"Yes?" Brienne called up.

The servant bowed again. "Ser, my Lady, his Grace, King Aegon, the sixth Prince of Dorne, the Morningsword, the –"

"Does his Grace have a message for me?" Brienne called up.

She didn't want to interrupt the poor boy but he was clearly terrified and tongue-tied. He became more so as he fumbled through Griff's titles. The servant flushed as he nodded vigorously. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"The king requires your presence in the Throne Room, my Lady Ser." The boy spoke in a flat, hurried tone that revealed he's memorized his lines. "You and your squire are to attend him im-im-im…at once."

The boy flushed even more and stumbled back until they could barely see him pressed against the wall. Brienne and Podrick exchanged glances. Griff had ordered Varys to assemble the lords in the great hall. The gathering must be starting soon.

"Thank you," Brienne called up. "You are dismissed."

The boy bowed and broke out in a run as he hurried along the wall. The people gathered near the wall and leaning out of windows also hurried away as Brienne and Podrick mounted the steps. Serdun made a great leap that took it to the top step while Gallan and Ardayn stayed with them.

"Are your feet well, my Lady Ser?" Podrick asked anxiously. "Moqorro hasn't brought the fresh cloth yet."

"He was probably called to attend the meeting," Brienne guessed. "My feet are fine, Podrick."

"I'll change the bindings after the assembly," Podrick promised. "They've probably gotten wet."

Her feet did ache but she ignored the pain. Serdun was healing far faster than she was, easily spreading its injured wing and gliding in the afternoon breeze. The dragon had the advantage of being born of magic while she healed at a slower pace. Ardayn and Gallan, who had greater wing control, stayed over their heads as they hurried through the connecting halls to the Throne Room.

The first thing Brienne saw when they entered the great hall was the enormous, sparkling seven-pointed star stained-glass window above the remains of the Iron Throne. Then she noticed the lump of throne itself was significantly shorter. The blacksmiths had started to dismantle it and take the metal to use in new weapons.

Griff, Tyrion and Ned were in conversation near the dais which also had been partially cleaned of the melted iron. Brienne and Podrick reached them just as Tanda entered from the main doors. Castle guards stood in the doorways, hands behind their backs, as they watched the dragons fly around the room. Griff stopped speaking when he saw Serdun glide across the hall. Tyrion and Ned also turned to see what had caught his attention. They all smiled at seeing Serdun recovering so quickly.

The green dragon wobbled a bit on the landing. It didn't have a breeze as it did outside to help moderate its descent. Still, it displayed considerable control given its still healing wing. Griff knelt to embrace the green dragon. Serdun tolerated being held for a few seconds then shrugged to free itself. Griff laughed as he allowed Serdun its freedom.

"Sȳrī gaomagon, Serdun," he praised.

Serdun turned to Tyrion and squawked. It extended its wings to their full length, almost showing off to its friend. The other dragons also came down to join them.

"You're looking well, Serdun." Tyrion smiled warmly. "It's good to see you flying again. Err, sōvegon sȳrī."

The dragons all squawked at Tyrion's unfamiliar phrase. People hovering around the seven open doors leading into the Throne Room gasped at hearing the dragons. Some even pushed back and tried to hide behind the guards and each other.

"Sōvegon sȳrī? Brienne repeated.

"My High Valyrian is rusty," Tyrion explained. "I think I said 'good flying', didn't I?"

"The actual translation is 'fly well' but the idea is correct," Griff agreed.

Ned looked from Tyrion to the dragons then back at Tyrion. "Lord Tyrion, how did you cultivate such a good relationship with the dragons? All five of them demand praise from you and Serdun even called to you when it was brought in after being injured."

Tyrion took a moment to seriously consider the question as Tanda and Moqorro came to join them. Tanda had crossed the length of the hall while Moqorro slipped in from a side entrance. Brienne looked at the lords and ladies who hadn't assembled yet. She saw them outside the doors but no one seemed to want to be the first to enter.

"I think it's because I've always had respect for Lady Ser Brienne, even before they were born," Tyrion guessed. "Plus, I was Podrick's lord before he went into Lady Ser Brienne's service. The dragons understand I care about two people they love deeply."

Jaime, Bronn and Balon appeared at a side door. The crowd shifted aside to let them enter the room but remained outside, away from the dragons. Balon took a moment to smile and engage an elderly lord. The man entered with Balon, which prodded several others to muster the courage to follow him. A few people filtered in from the far doors but stayed in a tight group, well out of the dragons' fire range.

Podrick looked at them curiously. "Why are they so frightened? They know the dragons are well behaved and won't attack them."

Griff also surveyed the slowly assembling crowd, his mouth set in a grim line. "That's what they thought about the Westerlands army, too, until today. The attacks remind the people of Joffrey and Cersei's senseless cruelty. Now they think my assurances were lies and fear they aren't safe under the dragons."

Jaime, who had just joined them, looked grim. "Those men will never attack anyone again. I took care of the problem."

"No, you took care of attackers," Griff corrected. "I must deal with the problem." He turned to Balon. "Ser Balon, were you able to get the items I requested?"

Balon nodded soberly. "Yes, your Grace. The smith will send over his assistant momentarily."

Griff nodded. "Good."

There was a small commotion as Serjeant, Salladhor and a large group of Golden Company officers entered the Throne Room from the main doors. They lined up in neat rows in front of the dais. The lords and ladies looked at the men with open anxiety but also ventured into the room after them. Having three rows of men between them and the dragons gave the people some reassurance. The men were dangerous but the dragons were deadly. The Company men gave them the illusion of protection from the dragons.

Griff mounted the steps to face the assembly. The dragons, accustomed to the Golden Company men, choose to perch on the remains of the Iron Throne, raising them higher than even the King of the Seven Kingdoms. Brienne stood at the edge of the dais, at Griff's left side, with Podrick at her left. Jaime, Tyrion, Ned, Bronn, Balon, Tanda and Moqorro lined up facing Griff, just ahead of the Company men.

"My lords and ladies, you have no doubt heard about the attacks that took place on the tourney grounds." Griff spoke in a calm, measured tone. "The children who were attacked are in the care of the maester. The attack was isolated and will not occur again."

"It shouldn't have occurred at all." The elderly man Balon had been with spoke. His voice was thin with age but still clear. "What value is there in having Lannister soldiers here to protect us from the dead if we must be protected from the Lannister men?"

Griff nodded gravely. "Your concerns are valid, Lord Buckley. I won't tolerate such behavior. The men who attacked our defenseless citizens are dead."

He stopped speaking as a soft murmur went through the crowd. The people spoke amongst themselves, suspicion and uncertainty visible in their dull eyes and hunched shoulders. Brienne understood. Words were just wind, promises easily spoken and easily broken. The brutal reigns they'd endured had taught the people that kings, queens and their agents were not to be trusted. The goodwill Griff has begun to build threatened to crumble before it had a chance to solidify.

Brienne glanced back at her king. Griff has also come to the same conclusion. His mouth was set and indigo eyes darkened almost to black. He held himself tall and straight, the sunlight gilding his extraordinary silver-haired, golden-skinned Targaryen beauty in a glow that almost burned her eyes.

"Only a few days ago, I promised you and your families would be safe under the protection of House Targaryen." Griff raised his voice to regain attention. "Shortly after that, we fought our first battle against the Army of the Dead. We won."

He paused again, watching as some of the tension eased out of the crowd. The whispers quieted as Griff continued speaking, his beauty, his booming voice and his dragons commanding their attention.

"I know winning great battles is of no value if we cannot protect our innocent from attacks by our own. I won't allow such crimes to go unpunished. Any man who violates the rules of society will find his head mounted on a spike."

Brienne saw some of the assembled crowd nod in approval. Their physical postures loosened and their gazes began to focus on Griff instead of the dragons. They were revealed, hopeful their king would dispense even-handed justice and now willing to hear what Griff had to say. Some even leaned forward, as if trying to hear better. Griff, standing tall and straight, kept his voice strong and steady.

"The men who attacked the children were a small group inside the greater army. An army that has already fought to protect you and your families. The men who didn't support our efforts and viewed our children as sport have paid the price. The children are safe because of the efforts of honorable men also within the Westerlands forces."

The assembly broke into a steady mummer of conversation again. Brienne saw Jaime's startled shock at Griff's words. He probably expected Griff would lay the full blame on Jaime and his men. Brienne suppressed the desire to turn to her king and smile proudly at his actions. Jaime didn't know Griff the way she did. He didn't understand how fair the rightful King of Westeros truly was.

A king who would serve his people, not rule them.

"Upon hearing the screams, several Westerlands archers fired into the frenzy, even knowing the men they shot wore Lannister uniforms. They knew their duty was to protect the citizens from all threats, including their fellow soldiers. It requires training, focus and strength to fight the enemy a man chooses to attack. It takes honor to defend the innocent from one's own brother."

Griff paused and Brienne surveyed the crowd again. The people were now looking at each other instead of focusing on the dragons. She saw even the guards and servants hovering near the doors listening attentively. Even more of the tension drained out of the hall. A man came to stand near the guards. Balon and Ned slipped away from the gathering to meet the man. As Brienne watched, the man gave a heavy sack to the knight. Balon hefted the bag as Ned looked inside and nodded to Griff.

Griff continued speaking, ignoring Balon and Ned's actions. "Men who protect the innocent and stand up to those whose behavior is against our principles should be recognized. Those archers are in the back of the hall. Lord Commander, step forward to acknowledge them."

The crowd parted as a small group of Lannister archers marched the length of the hall. The men faced straight ahead but their eyes darted from side to side. Their attention was divided between staring at the lords and ladies around them and the dragons before them. Their uniforms were sweat stained and the men were disheveled, their hair damp, their helmets held under their arms.

Jaime blinked in confusion then stepped up to the foot of the dais. Balon came to his side with the sack and Ned withdrew an ebony-black arrow, as dark as midnight. The archers stopped when they were even with the Golden Company lines. They looked at the dragons, awe and fear in their eyes. They'd seen the dragons in action and knew how dangerous they were.

Jaime, Balon and Ned went to the men when it became clear they wouldn't come any closer to the dragons. Ned handed the arrow to Jaime who gave it to the archer closest to him. He spoke to the man in a low voice that didn't carry. The man bowed and accepted the dragonglass arrow. He moved to the next archer and was give him a solid dragonglass arrow. Once all the archers had arrows, they bowed to Griff.

"Your dragonglass arrows are too heavy to shoot but they're not too heavy to carry," Griff noted. "Keep them with you as a token of the people's gratitude. The citizens of King's Landing thank you for your courage and your service."

Someone in the crowd began to clap. Then another and another until everyone was clapping. The men flushed, looking dazed and uncertain. Jaime's expression was more composed than theirs but he also didn't understand what Griff had done. Brienne looked at her king, marveling at his ability to manipulate people and circumstances.

While the archers were confused there was no denying they were also pleased by the unexpected recognition. Brienne was sure they had acted out of instinct and self-preservation when they'd shot the men attacking the children, not out of honor or duty. Whether they deserved it or not, the archers were honored, bringing unexpected glory upon themselves and their houses. The solid dragonglass arrows, presented by the Lord Commander, in the presence of the king, were a sign of prestige. The arrows elevated these men, increased their self-worth and linked their feelings of success to House Targaryen.

Once the clapping ended, Griff nodded to Jaime. Jaime returned to his place beside Tyrion as the archers marched to the back of the hall. Ned reached into the sack and pulled out a sword belt. Brienne stared at the familiar leather pattern as he carried the belt to Griff. Pleasure warmed her entire body as she recognized it. The dragons, picking up on her joy, squawked in response. The crowd gasped and looked up at the five. Brienne also turned but to smile approvingly at her king. Griff's mouth curved slightly and he gave her a quick, sly wink.

"There are others who must be recognized for their honor, service and loyalty," Griff continued. "There is one among us who has fought alongside dragons, alongside knights, lords and some of the greatest fighters in the known world. One who didn't fight for gold, a lord or even his king. One who fought only for honor and out of loyalty to his lady. Podrick, come before me."

Brienne was grateful she'd had a moment to prepare herself to hear her squire honored before the people of King's Landing. Even so, her body flushed with heat and emotions clogged her throat, threatening to leak out of her eyes. Podrick blinked rapidly and turned to look at Griff. He was frozen in shock, his skin flushed deeply red and his face stripped of all emotion. Brienne gave him a gentle push and Podrick stumbled to kneel in front of Griff.

"Podrick, as squire to Lady Ser Brienne, you have fought at her side, guarded her back and acted swiftly to protect the dragons when they were threatened. I cannot give you Valyrian steel, yet," Griff stressed the delay, "but I thank you for your efforts, dedication and for your quick actions to protect those dearest to me."

Ned held up the sword belt and handed it to Griff. Podrick's previous leather jerkin, which he'd sacrificed to carry Ice and Bright Star across the burnt tourney field, had been fashioned into a belt with both a sword and a dagger sheath. The metal-studded dark red leather squares were now interspersed with cords of Tarth blue. Griff held the belt by the sword sheath to show off a sword hilt and a dagger hilt of intertwined dark red and blue cords. He tilted the sheath towards Podrick.

Podrick's hands shook as much as Brienne's had when she'd taken her commission parchment. He carefully took the sword by the hilt and pulled it from the sheath. The sword was long, slim and as black as the darkest night.

"Dragonglass," Podrick exclaimed. He pulled out the matching dagger. "Th…th…thank you, your Grace."

"Use them well, Pod," Griff ordered, but his voice was gentle. "The last few days have shown us that the enemy can rise at any time. We must always remain vigilant to guard those we love."

Podrick looked back at Brienne then up at the dragons. The five puffed and extended their wings, making themselves look bigger. They screeched, picking up on Podrick's surprised pleasure and gratitude. Brienne looked from the five to Podrick, recalling her words when she thought she was with him for the last time.

"We're more than blood, Podrick, we're bonded," Brienne corrected. "You're as much mine as are the dragons. You're as precious to me as they are. The dragons, my father and King Aegon will need your support. I'm not worried about them because I know you'll take care of them as you've cared for me." Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks but she didn't bother to check them. "I was so blessed to have you in my life, Podrick."

Podrick sheathed the sword and dagger and took the belt from Griff. His hands trembled as he tried to fasten the belt around his waist. He was so unsteady that the belt almost slipped from his grip.

"Oye, does the squire need his own squire?" Bronn asked. "Do you want me to show you how to tie a bow?"

As expected, Tyrion, Jaime and Griff glared at Bronn. Fortunately, his voice hadn't carried to the assembly. Podrick was able to fasten the belt on his third try. He straightened and turned to show off the new belt and weapons to Brienne and the audience. Once again, the crowd began to clap. Brienne joined the applause and blinked hard to hold her emotions in check. Podrick, still dazed, stumbled back to her side, as puffed and proud as the dragons above them.

"Many have fought to protect us." Griff raised his voice to regain everyone's attention. "Men who guard the walls and gates, men who patrol the streets and men who surround the graveyards to ensure the dead will not attack us again. Each deserves our thanks and our praise. However, we cannot wait for the Army of the Dead to attack us again. We must be proactive and protect all of Westeros. Therefore, the Westerlands armies will leave the capitol at daybreak. They will join the other forces assembling to guard against the dead who walk. The Golden Company will take over the protection of the city."

"How can we be assured these men are better than the men who attacked earlier today?" Lord Hayford asked from the crowd.

"These are my men, Lord Hayford. Men I know personally because I've lived with them, trained with them and fought with them. I wouldn't be standing before you today without these men. I put my life in their hands. Even more, I trusted them to protect those who are most precious to me." Griff looked back at the dragons. "My family. The dragons wouldn't have had a chance to grow, to learn or to be with us today without these men."

The Golden Company officers stood tall and proud, their distinctive golden tunics glowing in the sunlight. Brienne didn't attempt to hide her smile. Though she was a member of the Company, she'd also relied on these men. They had protected her and the dragons when she'd needed them. Even more, they'd held the shroud of secrecy that had been the dragons' greatest defense. Any of these men could have sold out the dragons for enough gold to fill the Iron Bank. Even with that temptation, they'd stayed loyal and united, and followed their true king back to Westeros.

"Without the dragons, we might not have won our first battle against the Army of the Dead," Griff reminded them. "These five were our first line of defense while the army organized. The bigger dragons shortened our battle time from days to mere hours. King's Landing might have fallen without them on our side."

The whispers began again. The people looked at the dragons with less fear and more acceptance. Their natural fear of dragons wouldn't end. Many had seen the dragons in action and knew how deadly they were. But they were also remembering the dragons were well-trained, intelligent and capable of great love and loyalty.

Griff smiled back at the five then looked at Brienne. His expression became serious, without the sly, playful asides he'd often directed at her. Griff nodded to Serjeant. Brienne watched Serjeant walk to the dais. He removed his sword from his belt, which he'd hidden under his tunic, and passed it to Griff. Gold flashed from the sword's pommel and the cross-guard. She recognized the simple swirl design on the grip, the flame at the pommel and gold flame licks jutting from the hilt. It was Firestorm, Griff's Valyrian steel sword.

Excitement made her heart beat faster as she recalled her dream of holding five swords in her arms. Ice, Firestorm, Bright Star, Lightning, and Dawn. She'd told Griff the swords were all important and needed to be carried into the Great War. Griff was the Sword of the Morning and carried Dawn. Did he intend to carry Firestorm, too?

Griff held the sword behind his back, so that Firestorm was partially hidden. He surveyed his audience then looked at Brienne again. His expression was calm but serious, even hesitant. Something flickered in the depths of his indigo eyes, so fast Brienne didn't have a chance to decipher it. Then the moment passed and he faced the crowd again. Brienne tried to match his cool, composed expression as she also turned back to the assembled audience.

"While the dragons helped save the capitol, they didn't do so alone." The assembly quieted as Griff continued. "They were led by one of the greatest knights in the Seven Kingdoms. This knight, upon learning the Army of the Dead was approaching, ran to the tourney field to bring the army inside the gates. While the army mounted their defense, this knight stayed outside the walls and fought for us all."

Almost as one, everyone turned to stare at Brienne. She blushed bright red under their regard but kept her position. Beside her, Podrick looked at her with pride shining in his dark eyes. Behind her, the dragon cried out, picking up on her spiking emotions. Before her, Jaime, Tyrion, Bronn, Ned, Balon, Tanda and the Golden Company officers smiled in encouragement. Moqorro and Varys, who'd slipped quietly into the room, both stood with nearly identical positions. Their hands were pressed together, their bodies leaning forward and serious eyes steady. It was almost as if they were trying to project their serenity to her.

"A person who picks up a sword or an arrow to fight for his lord is a warrior," Griff continued. "One who takes up a weapon to defend the innocent is a knight. The person who leads others into battle is a commander. Then there is the person who sends others to safety and runs forward into danger to protect everyone; warriors, knights, commanders and innocents alike. That person is a hero."

Clapping began and flowed in and around the Throne Room. Brienne took deep breaths to try to keep herself calm. The dragons, sensing her rising anxiety, flew from their perches to land in a straight line before her, between her and the rows of Company officers. Even Serdun, whose landing was clumsy in contrast to the others, puffed and squawked in her defense. Their cries caused the audience to stop clapping and gasp, for which Brienne was grateful.

"A great hero should carry a great sword." Griff brought Firestorm out from behind his back. "Brienne, come before me."

Brienne's heart pounded as she realized Griff intended to give Firestorm to her. Oathkeeper had been re-forged into Ice. Ser Duncan's sword, Bright Star, was a precious remembrance of the greatest knight in her lineage. It was also one of the five swords in her dream, important but not able to stop Wights. The dragons would protect her but having a sword of her own, capable of destroying the dead, would help the army of men.

She was about to turn to Griff when she saw Tyrion shudder visibly. The dwarf was shaking his head, his face white as he stared at Griff. He tugged on Jaime's arm. Jaime looked at his brother, frowned, then looked at Griff. Jaime's mouth fell open and his face went almost as pale as his brother's had.

"I don't believe it," Lord Hayford cried.

A gasp passed through the crowd. Most of the older lords and many of the older ladies were wide-eyed and some even open-mouthed as they stared at Griff in dumbfounded shock. Brienne pressed her lips together and turned to face her king. She knelt at the bottom step of the dais. Much of her excitement faded at seeing the older people, and even Tyrion and Jaime, so shocked her king would give her such an honor. Jaime's stunned expression hurt the most, a betrayal of the confidence he'd previously shown in her. He'd given her his Valyrian steel sword and even refused to take it back when she'd offered to return it. Now he was as shocked as the others that she was about to receive Firestorm.

Griff smiled at her and, suddenly, their disapproval no longer mattered. Her king believed in her. Griff had seen her potential from the first moment they'd met on that dirty dock in Braavos. He'd given her a chance, loyal companions, a sense of belonging and protection. He'd asked nothing in return, allowing her to keep her secrets and accepting her as she was, even before she'd brought him the dragons. She had a place in the world King Aegon the Sixth was building. He'd taken her as his sworn sword and freely gave her honor and praise. She belonged. Nothing else mattered.

Griff raised Firestorm so everyone could see it. Brienne saw the sword was different. Previously, the oval centerpiece had been empty. Now the centerpiece was filled with a brilliant red ruby, the size of a duck egg, surrounded by smaller rubies. The sunlight pouring in from the seven-pointed star glowed through the rubies and cast her in a bright red light.

Furious whispers ran through the assembled crowd. Brienne continued to look at her king, trying to ignore the reaction from the assembly. Valyrian steel was rare and precious but it shouldn't evoke this kind of disbelieving reaction. Jaime, Ned, Bronn and Balon all had their Valyrian steel swords hanging from their belts. Why was everyone so upset that she was getting this honor? Griff passed the sword to her. She took it carefully by the hilt, allowing the light to bounce off the distinctive ripples on the blade and cast sparkles along the hall.

"Lady Ser Brienne, knight of the Seven Kingdoms, keeper of the dragons, warrior of the Gods and Lightbringer." Griff raised his voice, ensuring he was heard throughout the Throne Room and into the hallways. "I present to you Dark Sister, the sword of Visenya Targaryen."

Brienne's whole body shuddered with her shock as the mummers broke into outright cries. She stared at the sword, thunderstruck. Griff had Dark Sister, the sword of the first Targaryen Queen of Westeros. All those months, it had been in front of her and she hadn't recognized it. As he'd done to himself, Griff had altered the weapon's appearance and changed its name to hide its real identity. Dark Sister had been thought lost during the Blackfyre Rebellion, while in the custody of Brynden Rivers, one of the bastard sons of Aegon the Fourth. How had Griff gotten it? Why would he give her such a precious heirloom, a symbol of House Targaryen?

"Your shadow!" Moqorro gasped.

Brienne looked back at the Red Priest. His facial tattoos were so red she wouldn't be surprised if they started to bleed. His eyes were wide and his hand trembled as he pointed. Brienne looked down to where he indicated. Her shadow, cast by the sunshine pouring in from the seven-pointed star stained-glass window, fell beside her. The heat from the summer sun shimmered in waves, making the shadow look as if it was almost moving. The center ruby cast a blood-red glow on the shadow of her hand. She gasped.

In the light of the sun, the halo of the Faith, the glow of House Targaryen and the afterglow of history, Brienne's shadow knelt with flames in her hand.

Author's Notes: Who recognized Dark Sister before this chapter? As with everything else, the sword's story is an important clue to the battle against the Army of the Dead.

My current beta reader, the wonderful Comet69, has been having computer issues and isn't able to read for me as much. Is anyone interested in being a beta reader for this story? Please leave me a comment and we'll connect.