The Keeper
Chapter 51 – Sister Keeper
"Th…thank you, your Grace." Brienne could barely manage the words, her mind still reeling from the shock of receiving Queen Visenya's sword.
"You've earned it, Brienne," Griff assured. "You showed great courage and selflessness in protecting the capitol and the people. Your instinctive response saved us all."
Brienne rose from her kneeling position before her king. Firestorm, no Dark Sister, reflected light throughout the Throne Room in her shaking hands. Podrick smiled encouragingly at her, supportive and loyal as always. She returned to her place beside him, her heart pounding so hard she couldn't hear words. Bright Star was in her sword sheath so she held her new sword in both hands, blade pointed downwards, the tip touching the marble floor. The distinctive Valyrian steel was unmistakable, as were the flame licks and flame jutting out of the pommel. She'd seen the sword for three months, from the first day she'd fought against Griff. How could she have failed to recognize one of the most famous swords in Westerosi history?
She raised her head to face the people. The king's council, along with Jaime, Bronn and Moqorro were in the front row, closest to the dragons. The five, fiercely protective, had lined up in front of their visibly shaken mother. Jaime and Tyrion had now overcome their shock and smoothed their expressions back to polite interest. The rows of Golden Company officers were calm and accepting. Clearly, they already knew the truth of Griff's sword just as they'd known the truth of Griff's identity.
Behind the Company men were the great lords and ladies of the nearby keeps and castles. They whispered amongst themselves, eyes bright and calculating as they looked between the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms and his sworn sword. In the back were the archers who had just been honored. Their puzzled expressions as they observed the chattering assembly revealed their confusion. The hallways and doors were filled with castle guards, servants and tradespeople, all looking at her as if she was an unknown creature, unlike anything they'd ever seen before.
Brienne was so stunned it took her a moment to understand Griff had ended the assembly. The hall emptied quickly, the people no doubt eager to spread the story of the female knight who now carried the sword of the Targaryen queen. In moments, only the Company officers, the king's council and Jaime, Bronn and Moqorro were still in the room with Griff, Brienne, Podrick and the dragons. The castle guards stepped out into the hallways, no doubt eager to put distance between themselves and the dragons. Once the hall emptied, the dragons and Brienne relaxed. The five began to prowl around the room, comfortable with the men and woman who were still with their family.
"Lord Jon, are the troops ready?" Griff asked.
He looked expectantly at Serjeant. The big, brawny Golden Company officer turned his head to look at the council members. They looked back at the Company officers. Serjeant glanced at Griff as he waited for someone else to reply.
"Serjeant," Griff nodded to him. "I was speaking to you. You are Lord Jon Lothston."
Serjeant grunted. "Jon Connington is Lord Jon, Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands."
"I remember you objected to being called Ser Serjeant because you weren't a knight. Now you're a lord. Will you respond if we call you Lord Serjeant?" Podrick suggested mischievously.
Several of the officers, including Salladhor, snickered. Serjeant flushed as red as his artificially colored hair and glared at them. The men immediately smoothed out their expressions. Serjeant nodded in satisfaction and turned back to Griff.
"Hmmm…Lord Serjeant." Griff had a similar smirk on his face. "A good suggestion, Pod, but everyone must address a lord with respect. Calling him a lord and a serjeant may confuse them, or him. Shall we compromise with Lord Loth?"
Serjeant grunted again but nodded in agreement. "To answer your question, the troops are ready. We can begin patrols of the capital at once."
"The men will need to familiarize themselves with the city," Varys pointed out. "Perhaps they can begin rounds with the city guards? That will allow the people to become accustomed to seeing them."
"Agreed." Griff turned to Bronn. "Ser Bronn, I understand you were the former commander of the city watch. Take the officers to meet with the current commander."
Bronn raised his eyebrows. "I don't rightly know who the current commander is. We go through city commanders almost as fast as we go through rulers around here."
Tyrion drew his breath in on a sharp hiss. As expected, he, Griff and Jaime glared at Bronn. Ned and Tanda also added their narrow-eyed censure. Worse, the Company officers turned to glare at the knight, their hands hovering dangerously close to their swords. Brienne and Podrick looked to the dragons. The five, accustomed to the men and their weapons, were unperturbed by their action. Griff's mouth tightened and he took a step closer to Bronn. Jaime spoke up quickly.
"The current commander is Humfrey Waters," Jaime explained. "He was promoted a few months back. Previously, he was the captain of the Dragon Gate. I believe he's had a hard time with his men, with low morale, corruption and bribery. However, the Gold Cloaks pulled together during the attack from the Army of the Dead."
"I have a plan to deal with the problems with the Gold Cloaks," Griff assured. "Lord Varys, take my officers to meet this Humfrey Waters. They'll implement my plans."
Varys bowed to Griff then turned to the officers. After a brief discussion, he led them out of one of the side doors of the Throne Room. Only Serjeant and Salladhor remained. They looked around the enormous hall with interest, much like the young dragons.
"Your Grace, your officers' attire is very much like the City Watch cloaks. I propose your men add your sigil to their uniforms," Tanda suggested. "It will help distinguish them from the Gold Cloaks, generate much-needed work for many tailors and assure the people that the dragons are protecting them."
"Excellent suggestion, Lady Tanda," Griff approved. "Lord Hand, make arrangements for tailors to visit the Golden Fleet ships to begin the work. My men will walk around the city today and formally take over patrols at daybreak tomorrow."
Tyrion's mouth tightened. "You mean once the Westerlands army leaves?"
Griff raised his eyebrows in his Daenerys-like way and looked down at the Hand. Brienne moved to stand at her king's shoulder. Tanda, Ned and even Balon shifted closer to Griff, unconsciously lending their support to the Prince of Dorne. Tyrion saw their unity and looked away; his lips pressed together in frustration. Brienne understood his disappointment but it did no good to hold his anger. No matter how the Hand to Queen Daenerys felt about Griff, Tyrion had to realize his protests meant nothing to the rightful king, his council, his men or the people rapidly developing loyalty to him.
Brienne shifted her attention to study Jaime, who also looked at his brother, concern visible in his wildfire green eyes. Jaime was dealing with so many changes without a moment of respite. The loss of his beloved sister was still fresh, as was their battle with the Army of the Dead and his fear of what they thought was her last moments. He would lead his army north tomorrow, to face an uncertain future. Tyrion would stay behind, managing the capitol in his Queen's name, beside the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. Maybe Jaime's shock hadn't been because Griff was giving her a Valyrian steel sword. He, after Tyrion pointed it out, recognized Dark Sister, the sword of House Targaryen. Perhaps he'd been shocked Griff had the long-lost sword in the first place.
"Ser Jaime, are your men ready to leave?" she asked, hopeful her friend still had faith in her.
"We will be," Jaime assured her. "Many of the men were expecting the order and some are eager to leave. They've seen what's coming for us and want to face it head on."
"Better to die as heroes than live with the taint of dishonor," Tyrion murmured.
Bronn hitched up his sword belt. "Only fools put limitations on living. A dead hero is as cold as a dead scoundrel. Dead is dead."
"Not necessarily. How many times has Beric Dondarrion come back from death?" Tyrion asked.
Serjeant stared at him. "Are you serious? How does a man come back from death?"
"Apparently, you need only ask politely." Tyrion shrugged.
"It's not that simple, Lord Tyrion," Ned corrected. "A red priest travels with Lord Beric. He's the one given the power of resurrection by the Lord of Light."
"You've seen this man resurrected?" Serjeant stared at the Lord of Starfall.
Ned nodded soberly. "I have."
"It is a rare and dangerous gift," Moqorro warned. "Death, even momentary death, weakens the body. Those who come back are diminished. And those who come back only do so for a specific purpose. Our Lord guides us all. To follow the flame is to follow the truth."
Griff shuddered visibly. The dragons, picking up on his sudden response, rushed to his defense. Brienne, still holding Dark Sister, raised the sword to defend her king. Serjeant, Ned, Balon and Salladhor put their hands on their sword hilts. They all looked around for the threat but there was nothing to defend him from. No one had entered the hall nor did she sense a threat.
"What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?"
Griff looked at her, then at Dark Sister in her hands. He reached down to scoop Serdun up in his arms. The green dragon, normally aloof and now very tired of being coddled, surprisingly didn't try to free itself. Serdun laid its head on Griff's shoulder. It sensed Griff needed comfort, not protection, and gave its father the support he needed.
"Perhaps the time has come to tell you how I was led to Dark Sister," Griff decided.
Brienne looked from her king to her new sword. Led to? Griff hadn't always had the sword? That made sense. The sword had been lost for over two hundred years, long enough for many to forget it had even existed. She lowered her sword and wondered about its companion. Two Valyrian steel swords had been created for Visenya and Aegon the First. While Visenya had wielded the aptly named Dark Sister, her brother had carried Blackfyre. It was rumored to be larger but have matching ornamentation to Dark Sister. The only difference was Blackfyre had dragon heads where Dark Sister had dragon flames on the cross-guard and pommel.
Griff, with Serdun still in his arms, turned for the side doors. Everyone hurried after him. They were silent as they followed along the corridor to the council chambers. Guards and servants all stiffened at seeing the dragons flying overhead. The guards quickly folded their hands behind their backs while servants ducked into doorways and open doors.
Once they were all seated and the dragons settled by the windows, everyone turned to Griff. He sat at the head of the table with Tyrion on his right and Ned on his left. Brienne, Podrick, Balon and Moqorro sat beside Ned. Tanda, Jaime and Bronn sat beside Tyrion. Serjeant sat at the other end of the table, in Jon Snow's usual chair. Salladhor sat at his right.
Tyrion's eyebrows rose at seeing the Golden Company officer occupying the position normally reserved for a ruler. He looked at Griff to gauge his reaction. Griff's attention was on the sword Brienne carefully leaned against her chair, close to her hand.
"You were led to Dark Sister, your Grace?" Brienne prompted. "You didn't already have it?"
Griff shook his head. "No, I didn't. About six months before you came to Essos, I was plagued by…" he paused, as if unsure of how to describe the event. "Thoughts, visions, dreams, I don't know what to call them. They filled my mind every waking minute and haunted my nights. I could barely sleep for more than a few minutes. At the time I feared I was losing my mind."
"What were these dreams, your Grace?" Ned asked.
"A crow with three eyes, white winds, a darkness filled with icy fingers and a blood-red ruby." Griff spoke out loud but his voice was flat and listless, as if he was back in the dream. "Hour after hour, day after day, the images filled my mind. I had no hunger, no thirst, no desire for sleep, companionship or even an interest in living itself."
He fell silent, as if lost in the memories. The dragons turned from sunning themselves, sensing their father's melancholy. The five squawked, breaking Griff out of the darkness that had gripped him. His head jerked up and he smiled at the five. Catren left its favorite place near the windows to fly to Griff. He leaned back to allow the brown dragon to land in his lap. Allwyn cried out as it also came to the table. Brienne leaned back obediently to allow the blue-grey dragon to settle in her lap. Ned, with a dragon seated on either side of him, stiffened and shifted in his seat.
They all turned to look at the other three dragons still by the windows. Serdun squawked and turned back to the sun, making it abundantly clear it didn't want any more cuddling. Ardayn, as independent as Serdun, calmly stretched out its wings to catch the sunlight. Gallan looked from the sunshine to Podrick then settled into the couch cushions.
Brienne turned back to Griff. "What did you do, your Grace?"
Griff stroked Catren. "After weeks without sleep, even with forcing myself to eat and drink, I could no longer hide the effects from Lord Jon."
Everyone turned their heads to look at Serjeant seated at the far end. He shook his head, causing the beads on his three-pointed beard to click together.
"Lord Jon Connington," Serjeant explained.
They all turned back to Griff. Catren shifted, pressing into Griff, elongating its neck to rest it on his shoulder. Griff stroked its back, between the rows of spikes. Catren made a sound between a purr and a rumble, revealing how relaxed and content it was in Griff's arms.
"Was Lord Jon able to help you, your Grace?" Podrick prompted.
Griff nodded. "He told me the white winds were snow, which can only be found in the North or beyond the Wall. We both agreed something was compelling me to go there."
"You returned to Westeros before now?" Tyrion asked.
"Yes," Griff admitted. "I had to come, no matter the risk. That lack of sleep and constant images were affecting my mind. I couldn't think, read, make clear decisions and had even started to slur my speech. I wouldn't have survived if I didn't stop the images."
Griff shuddered, as if the memories were still painful to recall. Catren rose on its back legs and rubbed its head against his hair, sensing how desperately its father needed the comfort. Brienne was startled by how alike the dragon and the blood of the dragon were. It was an odd thought, given they were entirely different creatures. Something about their interaction, or how Catren's coloring blended with Griff's brown leathers or the absolute, unconditional love between them, bonded them in a way even greater than blood.
The other dragons flew to the table. Podrick quickly rose to assist Serdun as it descended to join them. Gallan, Ardayn and Serdun sniffed the air and prowled along the table length. Tanda, Ned, Balon and Moqorro pressed back against their chairs. The others, more used to the dragons, continued to watch Griff. Griff took his time to settle Catren back into his lap. He smiled warmly at the other dragons before he continued his story.
"I commissioned a ship to take a group of us to the Shivering Sea. I didn't know what we'd find but I was finally able to sleep on the voyage. The closer we got to the Wall, the more my energy and drive returned. We made it up the Antler River before a snowstorm descended and almost wrecked the ship. The captain refused to take us any further. We then had to set out on foot, hunting for my peace of mind."
"And you found it?" Ned asked. "How? Where?"
"We'd only left the water when I saw a black crow. It was the three-eyed crow from my visions. After four days of walking, of chasing after that stupid bird, we saw a group of children," Griff explained.
"Children?" Brienne repeated. "Wildling children?"
Griff shrugged. "I don't know. They were the first people we'd seen, other than our group, so we tried to hail them. We must have frightened them because they ran away from us. We followed their tracks and found a cave. The inside was filled with roots from the monstrously large trees above us. The roots were wet and cold, touching us like icy fingers."
"Are you saying you found Dark Sister in a cave north of the Wall?" Tyrion demanded.
Griff nodded. "We spent the night in the cave but it was so damp we couldn't start a fire. While there, I dreamt of a man with long, grey hair and roots piercing his body. He was surrounded by the bones of the dead, but he still lived. He said 'The flame is truth, trust the fire' over and over again."
"Moqorro said 'To follow the flame is to follow the truth'. That's why you shuddered when he spoke," Podrick surmised. "It reminded you of what the man in your cave dream said."
"Yes. The words repeated in my dreams for the entire night. I awoke more tired than when I'd fallen asleep." Griff looked at the sword at Brienne's side again. "When the sun rose the next morning, it illuminated the flames on the sword's pommel. It was tangled up in the roots, high above our heads. I had to climb up the roots to retrieve it. I didn't know what it was at the time but I knew it was what I'd come for. Once I had it, I couldn't carry both my ordinary steel sword and Dark Sister. So, I took Dark Sister and left my weapon near the entrance."
"A three-eyed crow came to you in your dreams, ordered you to go north of the Wall, guided you to a cave in the middle of nowhere and gifted you with the sword of House Targaryen?" Tyrion's disbelief was obvious in every word he spoke. "I can't believe it."
"Do you believe in dragons?" Griff asked. "Do you believe in men who return from death, again and again? Do you believe in the dead who attack the living?"
Tyrion's eyes widened as he looked at Catren in Griff's lap then at the other dragons. Brienne saw the stark realization darken the dwarf's eyes. Dragons, men who returned from death and the dead who walked were very real. A crow with three eyes, who carried out the will of the Gods, wasn't hard to accept after all they'd already experienced.
Brienne recalled the meeting when she'd first brought the baby dragons to the Golden Company office in Tyrosh. She'd told Griff and Tristan about how she'd found them. Griff's instant acceptance had puzzled her at the time.
"Followers of the Gods of water and fire directed you to the dragon?" Griff repeated carefully, as if he was unsure of what he'd heard.
She nodded. "Yes."
Griff turned to look at Tristan.
"The Gods directed Brienne to dragons." There was an odd inflection in his voice, a heaviness that hinted at greater weight than just mere words.
"It's true," Brienne insisted. "The dragons are right here. I'm not lying to you."
Griff turned back to her, a sudden fire lighting in his dark blue eyes. Something in his expression sent prickles down her spine. She straightened in her seat. Even the dragons seemed to pick up on it, alert and watchful, suddenly silent. Something shimmered in the air around them, like heat rising from burning sand.
"I know," Griff agreed, his voice still odd and heavy. "Man cannot understand the will of the Gods. He can only have faith and follow the path they lay before him."
Brienne stared at him, uncomprehending. The intensity in his eyes unnerved her. He was looking at her but seeing something inside his own mind.
"Man cannot understand the will of the Gods. He can only have faith and follow the path they lay before him," Brienne quoted.
Griff looked at her, his expression as stark and set as it had been that day. "Yes."
"That's why you so easily accepted my half-truths and lies, why you never pushed me to explain how I really got the dragons." Brienne understood now. "You knew to trust those who brought you fire, whether it was a sword or dragons. You'd been told fire was your guide."
"I accepted you even before you brought me the dragons." Griff's indigo eyes blazed. "I saw the fire in your eyes the first time we met on that dock in Braavos."
Brienne froze. The heat in his gaze was hot enough to singe her nerve endings, making the fine hairs on her arms stand up from the shock. Allwyn, snuggled down in her lap, raised its head to sniff the air. The other dragons hissed, aware of the charge around them. Tanda looked nervously at Ardayn prowling close enough to touch. The Lady of Stokeworth pressed herself into the back of her chair, as if trying to put more distance between herself and the dragon.
Ned looked from Brienne to Griff then back to Brienne. "I don't understand. Why did you lie to your king? You were disloyal to Prince Aegon?"
"I didn't intend to lie to him," Brienne explained. "I was trying to protect the baby dragons. At that time, I only knew him as an officer of the Golden Company, not as the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms."
Everyone was silent as Brienne told them the full story of how the young dragons were born. Gallan settled into Podrick's lap while Ardayn and Serdun stretched out on the table. Tyrion and Podrick, who'd already heard the story while in the Chamber of the Painted Table, and Serjeant, filled in when she paused. Varys slipped into the room as she spoke and sat down on Serjeant's left. He also listened silently, looking from her to the rapidly growing dragons to the wide-eyed men and woman gathered around them.
Silence descended when Brienne finally finished speaking. Even Bronn, normally flippant and blunt-spoken, had nothing to say. Jaime, Tyrion, Tanda, Bronn and Ned stared at her with the same dumbfound amazement as the servants and observers outside the Throne Room. Balon and Moqorro absorbed the new information netter, watching her with their usual calm acceptance. The dragons looked around curiously, unable to determine why the council members were so fixated on their mother. Finally, Bronn broke the silence.
"You're not just the keeper of the Gods' dragons. You birthed these five," the knight insisted. "You're the fucking mother of dragons."
"No, Daenerys is the Mother of Dragons," Brienne insisted. "She brought dragons back into the world. Now, perhaps any Targaryen descendant can hatch dragon eggs if their blood mingles with a dragon's fire."
"Very few descendants can survive fire," Jaime reminded her. "A fire at Summerhall killed most of House Targaryen."
Brienne nodded and looked down at Allwyn. The blue-grey dragon looked up from its position curled in her lap and squawked quietly. It was easier to look at the dragon than it was to meet the gazes of the stunned men and woman around her. Before silence could fall again, Ned cleared his throat.
"Your Grace, what did you do once you had the Dark Sister?" Ned looked at the sword resting against Brienne's chair. "Did you recognize it?"
"Actually, Lord Jon recognized the sword," Griff admitted. "He was a friend of Rhaegar's and had seen paintings and drawings of it. Once he saw it, he presented a theory of how the sword had gotten into that cave."
"Dark Sister was last seen with Brynden Rivers, one of the bastard sons of Aegon the Fourth," Tyrion recalled. "He was sent to the Wall for beheading a man he'd promised safety."
Griff nodded. "Brynden Rivers, or Bloodraven, as he was called, disappeared during a ranging party. Lord Jon suspects a storm separated him from the team. He found the cave for shelter and died there. The cave was full of bones. Over time, the sword became tangled in the roots, hidden and forgotten."
"The Valyrian steel swords in the Iron Throne were also hidden and forgotten," Brienne pointed out. "Then, when the army of men needed them, the Gods revealed them to us."
Jaime, Bronn, Balon and Ned all looked down at the swords they'd been gifted. Though the blades had been presented by Griff's hand, the weapons had truly come from the Gods' plan to defeat the Night King. All four men looked up and at each other, as new understanding settled behind their eyes. They each had important roles in the Great War and the survival of humanity.
"The Gods are bringing their warriors and their weapons together," Tanda observed. "The threat has been building for the last four years but humanity only became aware of it in the past few months."
"No," Salladhor disagreed. "The Wildlings have known about it longer. They were the first to suffer attacks."
Everyone turned to look at him. The former pirate straightened in his chair and pulled down the hem of his fine plum colored tunic. Unlike most of the Company officers, he didn't wear the familiar golden uniform. He seemed to enjoy the gauzy embroidered silk material.
"How do you know?" Bronn demanded.
Salladhor hesitated then shrugged. "I was a pirate. I earned gold by exchanging spices for cargo from Hardhome to the free cities. I heard stories about the dead who attacked the living."
Cargo? Brienne stared at him. What did the Wildlings, poor and desperately fighting for survival, have to trade for spices? They had no gold, no food and even their lands were frozen and barely supported life. How could the Wildlings trade with a pirate? Then she understood. A red mist of rage blinded her vision. She arose so fast Allwyn, who'd been snuggled in her lap, cried out and jumped to the table.
Brienne had Dark Sister in her hand and pointed at Salladhor's throat before she'd made the conscious decision to approach him. Griff was only a step behind her, pulling her away from the former pirate before the blade could make contact. The dragons, seeing their mother struggling against their father, squawked anxiously. Everyone, except Podrick and Salladhor, scrambled out of their seats to get away from the frightened, visibly upset dragons. Podrick froze, staring at Brienne and Griff with the same shocked horror as the dragons.
"Brienne! Calm yourself," Griff ordered.
He dragged her away from Salladhor, allowing the former pirate to topple his chair back. He scuttled away on his hands and feet, putting distance between himself and Dark Sister. Brienne continued to struggle against Griff, her fury giving her energy.
"Let me go!" she demanded.
"Brienne, I command you to calm down!" Griff ordered.
He twisted her bodily so she faced away from Salladhor. The sudden action sent needles of pain up from her injured feet. She gasped and slumped in Griff's arms. Even so, she twisted her neck to glare at the former pirate.
"He's a slaver!" she accused. "He sells children for gold. The Wildlings have nothing else to trade."
Everyone, except Serjeant, Varys and Griff, looked at Salladhor with horrified disgust. They remained pressed against the walls, waiting for the dragons to calm. The five and Podrick watched Brienne as she took deep breaths and forced herself to relax. Griff kept his arms around her and pushed her away from the former pirate, towards the dragon's favorite place beside the windows. Salladhor rose to his feet but backed away from Brienne. He brushed off his elegant tunic as he watched her with shocked dark eyes.
Griff still had his arms around her and walked her away, step by step. "Brienne, release your sword."
Brienne looked down at Dark Sister. It took a conscious effort to open her hand. The priceless Valyrian steel sword clattered to the polished floor. She took another deep breath and forced her body to relax.
"Good." Griff still hadn't loosened his tight grip around her shoulders and waist. "Now the other one."
Brienne looked down at Bright Star still in her sword sheath. She'd forgotten she had two swords but Griff remembered. In fact, he was remarkably calm for a man who had just discovered his master-of-ships sold children for profit. A horrible realization settled over her. She remembered what Griff had said in the godswood before she explained the importance of Dawn.
"Brienne, we don't always get to choose our allies from only honorable men." Griff rubbed his hands along her arms in a comforting gesture. "For every Jon Snow or Ned Dayne, there are a hundred Daeron Vaiths and Manfrey Martells. Men who make poor decisions and compromises to reach their goals. Just as Jon Snow accepted the Wildlings who killed his Night's Watch brothers, I accepted the Dornish lords."
"You know," she said sadly. "You know he sells children."
Griff's arms loosened around her but he didn't let her go. "He did. He doesn't anymore and he saved my life."
That got her attention. This dishonorable man had sold human beings but he'd also protected her king. Many men had terrible events in their pasts. Jaime and Tyrion were both kinslayers, Bronn had tried to kill Drogon and Daenerys, she herself was a kingslayer after executing Stannis and even Podrick had killed a Kingsguard. Everyone followed their own moral code. Each of them had beliefs and goals. The Gods had brought them together because of their skills and their pasts, not despite them. Salladhor had saved Griff's life. Whoever he'd been was not who he was now.
"I'm calm," she assured Griff. "You can let me go now."
Griff didn't release her. Instead he looked to the dragons and Podrick. They were still at the table, stiff and anxious as they watched them. Brienne took deep breaths and her easing temper transmitted to the dragons. They relaxed along with her.
"Podrick, come to the couch," Griff ordered.
Podrick looked at the dragons with worry but did as his king ordered. Once he settled on the cushions, the dragons cried out and flew to him. Allwyn settled in his lap and burrowed down. He opened his arms as the rest of the dragon, including the normally aloof Ardayn and Serdun, squeezed in with them. Once the dragons settled with Podrick, the other members began to creep back to the table.
Salladhor righted his chair but didn't sit. "My Lady Ser, not all of us were born into privilege. We had to fight and struggle to survive. Yes, I sold anything I could sell, including people. But those children are far better off in the Golden Company than as part of the Army of the Dead."
Brienne froze in Griff's arms. "The Golden Company has slaves?"
Griff finally released her. "No, we don't have slaves. Every boy who joins the Company does so of his own free will. He has food, clothing, safe living quarters and earns gold." He walked around to face her. "Where did you think we get our squires? They didn't come from the noble houses of Westeros. Over ten thousand boys have been saved from slavery by joining us."
Brienne stared at him. "What about girls?"
"Until you came along, we didn't think women could fight alongside men," Serjeant spoke as he resumed his seat. "We have some girls as cooks and seamstresses but we weren't training them to join our ranks."
"We will now," Griff assured her. "Word had gotten out that we have a female officer. Several women have contacted us to purchase commissions."
"Purchase commission?" Bronn repeated as he gingerly sat down. "People pay you to fight for the Company?"
"They do now." Serjeant confirmed, a satisfied smile on his face. "We're the finest private force in the world. The Golden Company put House Targaryen back on the Iron Throne."
"Brienne put the Targaryens on the Iron Throne," Jaime corrected. He looked at the dragons. "Brienne and the dragons."
"Brienne is an officer of the Company and sworn to Aegon Martell Targaryen. He holds the throne of Dorne and the loyalty of four of the seven kingdoms of Westeros." Serjeant reminded him. "We're now helping him gain the rest. The Golden Company are kingmakers."
There was no denying Serjeant's statement. The Golden Company had sheltered and protected Brienne and the dragons. Then Brienne and the dragons had claimed the Iron Throne for House Targaryen. Company men had secured the Reach and the Stormlands and were working to stabilize the Riverlands. The Golden Company not only made kings, they made alliances, reputations and dynasties.
Brienne scooped up Serdun. Surprisingly, the green dragon didn't protest or try to wiggle to be free. She sat down beside Podrick and Serdun willingly settled into her lap. Ardayn and Catren pressed into her on either side. She put her arms around them and hugged them close.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
Griff held out his arms. Gallan flew into his embrace. He turned to face the council members but stayed close to his family. All five dragons visibly relaxed. Griff, like Brienne, knew how much disagreements between them upset the dragons. They might be the most dangerous creatures in the world but they were also deeply sensitive, loyal and very young.
Ned looked from the now calm dragons to the still shaken council members. They'd all sat down and looked at each other, unsure of how to proceed. The Lord of Starfall once again displayed his pragmatic, focused nature. He looked down to Salladhor.
"Lord Salladhor, Prince Aegon said you saved his life," Ned reminded him. "How was that?"
Salladhor looked from Brienne to Ned. Slowly, he sat back down but was careful to keep his chair turned so he could watch Brienne.
"I was making a return run from Hardhome when I saw his group on the shores. They flagged my ship and I took them aboard," he explained.
"Yes," Griff agreed. "We no longer had a way to leave Westeros or a three-eyed crow to guide us. Luckily, the Wall is very tall. We followed it, but stayed among the trees until we reached the frozen shores. Lord Salladhor was on his way to Eastwatch and picked us up. If he hadn't gotten us, we would have had no way to return to Essos."
"A man who looked like Rhaegar and carried a sword of House Targaryen might not have been too popular with the Night's Watch," Salladhor suggested.
"Not only did Lord Salladhor pick us up, but he kept us hidden while he docked at Eastwatch." Griff added.
Brienne studied Salladhor. "You were a pirate, looking for an easy way to acquire wealth. Why would you stop for an unknown group of men? They could be deserters from the Night's Watch, or Wildlings angry you'd taken their children."
Salladhor nodded. "True, but deserters and Wildlings don't have Valyrian steel swords with rubies big enough to pay for a warship."
Brienne's eyes narrowed. "You wanted Dark Sister."
"I wanted a sword valuable enough to make me a very rich man," he corrected. "How was I supposed to know it would lead me to all this?"
"What happened?" Podrick asked. "Did you try to take the sword from King Aegon?"
"No," Griff answered. "I told him I could give him more than riches. If he followed me, and built my navy, I'd give him a castle, a lordship and more power than he could imagine."
"Those were only words." Salladhor shrugged. "I'd heard the same and more from a friend who talked me into supporting Stannis Baratheon."
"What?" Brienne stiffened.
Serdun dug into her lap and cried out. It was the dragon's concern that kept her from reaching for Bright Star. Instead, she took deep breaths to keep herself calm.
"Stannis Baratheon wasn't the rightful king." She fought to keep her voice even.
"I know," Salladhor agreed. "But my friend believed in him. Davos is the most honest smuggler I knew."
"Davos? Do you mean Ser Davos Seaworth?" Tyrion asked.
Salladhor looked at the Hand. "Yes. Do you know him?"
Tyrion nodded. "Yes. Ser Davos is now an advisor to Jon Snow, the King in the North."
"Yet another king. Westeros is full of them, isn't it?" Salladhor noted.
"But I'm the true king," Griff reminded him.
Griff leaned against the table the dragons used to sun themselves but didn't release Gallan. Ardayn flew from Brienne's side to the table, now that the tension between Brienne and Griff had dissolved. Serdun wiggled in Brienne's arms and she rose to take it to join Ardayn.
"How did you prove to him you were the true King of Westeros, your Grace?" Ned asked.
Griff released Gallan as Serdun settled on the table. Brienne bent down to retrieve Dark Sister. Salladhor stiffened but remained in his seat. Brienne went back to the couch and leaned the sword against the arm. The former pirate glanced at the sword then back at Brienne.
"Lord Salladhor and several of his men came to ask me about my sword. We were crossing the Narrow Sea, leagues away from land," Griff recalled. "I used a candle to set my sleeve on fire. That's when I told him I was Aegon Targaryen. Either he took us to Braavos or I'd set his entire ship on fire – and survive it."
"Stannis had a crazy red witch with him." Salladhor's mouth twisted at the memory. "She burned anyone who disagreed with her. After watching men burnt as sacrifices to her Red God, seeing a man set himself on fire and not burn was a shock."
"Don't I know it," Bronn agreed. "I almost shit myself when I saw the mother of dragons here take direct dragonfire and walk away with just a sunburn."
The council members had recovered from being frightened by the dragons' anxious reactions. As expected, Jaime, Tyrion and Griff glared at Bronn. Ned and Tanda gave him withering looks and shook their heads. Balon, Moqorro, Varys and Serjeant had bland, noncommittal expressions on their faces. Salladhor, however, glanced at Bronn and nodded in agreement.
"All Stannis had was a weak claim to the Iron Throne, Davos and that crazy witch. King Aegon had the blood of the dragon, a powerful army and proof of his claim to the Iron Throne. So, I gave up my old ways and joined him. Now I'm the Lord of Rook's Roost and he commands dragons." Salladhor leaned back. "I think I made the right choice."
Choice. Brienne looked around at the men and woman at the table. Everyone one of them had made choices that brought them to this time and place. They hadn't realized they were all part of the Gods' grand design, carefully moved to the positions necessary for them to serve the army of men. The Night King had become powerful in the past few years but the Gods' plan had begun long before, the night a red comet had heralded the births of the prince who was promised and his future sworn sword.
Brienne glanced down at Dark Sister. The sword had been hidden for over two hundred years, stored in an icy cave, concealed from humanity until the Gods revealed it. As they'd done with the Valyrian steel weapons in the Iron Throne, they'd carefully left clues to aid the army of men. Somewhere on Dragonstone was a clue so important, it had altered Rhaegar's life.
The quiet, scholarly man known for his melancholy disposition and skill at playing the harp had turned himself into a warrior. He'd also become obsessed with creating the three heads of the dragon. Rhaegar had known the blood of the dragon was necessary to bring dragons and magic back into the world. He'd been so focused on his quest that he'd ignored the problems and suffering around him. His poor choices and arrogance had blinded him to the destruction caused by his selfish actions. He hadn't lived to see the rebirth of dragons and, with it, the resurrection of House Targaryen.
Now his son and his sister would lead a new and better House Targaryen. This generation had seen the mistakes of their bloodline, from madness to greed, from dishonor to downfall. The Gods had given them another chance, to be a new breed of dragons who protected their own, fought with honor and guarded all of Westeros. Rhaegar had known House Targaryen was the key to surviving the Long Night. But how had he known? What had led to the realization and his quest?
Did Dragonstone still hold the clue to the three heads of the dragon?
