Chapter 8

Blackfyre and Blood

Melwyn the Holy

"Why does he have to undermine me every chance he gets?"

"He isn't trying to undermine you, Gerris. Godry's voice has always been that of caution, it's what makes us fight well together, live well together."

"It seems his caution grows with each passing day. When his worries are as simple as lying to Ser Bonifer, it's all well and good, but this... The journey ahead is that of peril, you know that."

"I know it and Godry knows it too. But Godry is more than his caution, you know this just as well. Who is it that stands beside you when steel is drawn? Who is it that watches your back while my bow and I hide in trees?"

"I'm not questioning his bravery or his skill. I've yet to meet anyone that fights that well with a spear. I question whether he can swallow the hardships to come."

"That's for him to choose. If he ever decides to sail back and rejoin the Hundred, there's nothing you or I could do to stop him."

"I wouldn't stop him, Melwyn, I would wish him good fortune. Remember that I begged you both to abandon me on this foolish quest."

"And that is why he chose to follow you, brother. You would never ask it, even if our absence were to surely mean your own death. Have faith in him."

"I do, I swear it. I only wish it was different. His lack of faith in me makes me doubt myself."

Mother, if you could see me now. The path to the great pyramid of Meereen began years ago. His childhood was a happy one. He was a farmer, son of a farmer, just another family among the thousand Smallfolk living throughout the plains of the Reach. His mother would tend to the chickens at dawn, and his father would lead their mule down the fields, tending the crops and tearing out weeds. It was his father that taught him the bow, and at ten namedays Melwyn would brave the woods in search of something to hunt.

He remembered thanking the seven that his mother and father were friends and that their family was whole. His mother was sweet, she would tell him that a good life is one well-lived each day we have, humble or not, it does not matter.

But illness took them both from him and had it not been for his bow, Melwyn would have starved to death. He'd been the orphan, the boy from whom everyone could steal until Ser Bonifer found him, and took the hand off a thief that dared take his supper.

You can stay here and fend for yourself or you can come with me, I will shield your back, I swear it and when the time comes to choose your own path, I shall knight you for it and wish you good fortune. The memory put a smile on his face. Melwyn felt blessed that the old knight found him, he'd given him the means to survive this cruel world and led him to the purpose he thought lost.

The old man kept his word. He knighted me, armored me, and wished me good fortune.

Now he stood among nobles and exiles, legends in the making. How the farmer boy found a path towards conquerors and hidden royals was beyond him, but one thing was certain, this life was as good as a dream, and to be true to himself and to his friends was the only path.

Gerris had been inconsolable the night before. He had never seen his friend as worried and anxious. The journey across the Narrow Sea was quiet as everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts. But the moment the walls of Meereen came into view, Gerris could barely sit still. He was afraid she would hate him, or worse deny him. Melwyn and Godry were able to distract him by suggesting he remove the dark color from his hair. Their friend would care for his locks whenever he had a moment.

Family is precious and nothing comes close but the brotherhood we chose.

While their ship docked, Godry was busy gathering his belongings, deep in conversation with the captain that brought them here. Gerris was still behind, taking a few moments to steady his thoughts. Melwyn took the time to sit beside him, watching intently.

"Gerris, it'll be alright." He always tried to sound comforting and compassionate. But he would always fail. How many times have they mocked me for it?

"I know," said Gerris, sounding unsure and terrified.

"We don't know much about her. But we know enough to trust her with a meeting. Look around you, Gerris, this was a city of slaves until she came." He gestured around them, to the people that occupied the docks. There were no collars, no fear, and no slaves to be seen. "Would a kinslayer do such a thing?"

"I'm not afraid of death, Melwyn," said Gerris. Gods, can he sound petulant. "I'm afraid of..."

Gerris trailed off, looking ashamed of his own thoughts. Melwyn nudged him with an elbow.

"What if she doesn't like me?" he finally asked. "What if she hates me? I couldn't bear it, brother."

Melwyn took a moment to compose his thoughts, digging deep for something helpful. "If she is anything like the stories they tell of her, you have nothing to fear. You and her, you are the same blood. That counts for something."

He placed a hand on Gerris' shoulder and stood, taking hold of his own belongings and following Godry towards the Unsullied waiting on the docks. Among them stood a girl and an old man, with white hair and an impressive suit of armor, a white cloak draped over his shoulders. He could see him scanning their faces, looking for Gerris among them. Eventually, recognition colored his features and Melwyn looked back to see his brother stepping off the ship. Gone was the doubt and gone was the fear. There's the Gerris I know.

"My lords," The girl's voice was pretty and strong. "Queen Daenerys welcomes you to Meereen. We know your journey was long and tiring. If you follow me, I'll show you to your quarters within the great pyramid so that you may rest. Which of you is Ser Gerris Waters?"

She needn't have asked the question. Of the three knights, only Gerris looked like a Targaryen. Melwyn could see the hint of a smile on Godry's lips and prayed the fool would hold his tongue.

"I am," said Gerris, stepping forward to stand between them. "I remember you. You're Ser Barristan Selmy."

"Cheese Knife," said the old man with a chuckle, "I saw you last at the Tourney of Lannisport. I heard tale that you were to squire for Ser Jaime Lannister."

"Whims of a child, Ser," Jae replied, "If I had, Westeros would have been my grave. Last I heard, you served another king."

"Whims of an old fool, Ser," said the old man. "Now I serve with honor. This is Missandei of Naath, the queen's scribe and one of her closest friends."

Jae smiled then. He gestured to his companions. "This is Ser Godry, the best spear among the Hundred. And this is Ser Melwyn the Holy. Good men both, brothers of fate."

Melwyn shot his friend a glare at the introduction but inclined his head to Ser Barristan in respect.

"Well met." said the Bold. They began to walk then, into the city and through the windings streets. The city was alive, loud, and seemingly peaceful.

"How did her grace take the city? I see no signs of battle." Melwyn asked. He was curious, and the Walls were as thick as they were high. There were no breaches, no burning buildings. Meereen looked as though it was handed over willingly.

"The Masters refused to yield when we came upon their gates. But her grace spoke to the slaves behind them, and promised them justice against their true enemies." Ser Barristan was a born storyteller, and Melwyn paid close attention to his words. "When the night came, freed men made their way into the city, armed the slaves, and told them that if they wanted freedom, they had to take it."

Ser Barristan paused long enough to ruffle the hair of a boy that came up to touch his glittering armor. "Now Meereen is a city without chains."

"Our queen has been anxious to meet with you," said the girl with the pretty voice, "Your books and letters are some of her most treasured items."

"You have them?" asked Gerris. Melwyn knew of Ser Bonifer and his single saddlebag command. He knew Gerris had left books behind but none of them knew what had become of them.

"Oh yes," said Missandei, "A Westerosi captain delivered them shortly before we took the city. He said he knew you when you took your new name."

"Forgive me, I did not know," said Gerris. "I thought myself on my way to meet someone who knew nothing of me, that I would need to convince her of who I am."

"She knows of you, Ser Gerris," said Missandei with a smile, "But perhaps it would suit if you were to convince her of who you are regardless, convince us all."

They want to be certain, Melwyn thought to himself.

"I don't know how to do that," said Gerris. Melwyn thought it unwise to say such things in front of the queen's servants.

"You can start by speaking to her," said Ser Barristan as they reached the great pyramid. "But first, if you would be so kind as to surrender your weapons,"

They followed Gerris as he removed his belt. He held his sword in both hands and surrendered it to Ser Barristan. "If you would bring that along when we see the queen, Ser, I would be grateful."

Ser Barristan accepted the weapons with a nod as they began to climb the steps. Melwyn paused when he heard, somewhere in the distance, a mighty roar.

Ser Pages

"Don't be afraid, put your hand here. Can you feel it?"

"I do. Is it a boy or a girl? Do you know?"

"No one can know for certain until the babe comes."

"Does it hurt?"

"No, sweet child, it doesn't hurt. But I can't wait to hold my child."

"I hope it's a girl."

"And why is that?"

"She would be a princess. Princesses love songs. I would give her one."

"Just one?"

"I would give her two then. I can be her sworn sword, like the stories."

"You're far too young for such things. Will you give me one more song, Jae?"

"Yes, my queen. As many as you would like."

The memory came to him as he began to climb the steps. His mind was elsewhere and his heart pounded heavily in his chest. He tried to summon Melwyn's words but all he could hear was Queen Rhaella's voice, her laughter, and her words. If he closed his eyes, he could feel her hand on her brow and her smell overwhelming his senses. She had taken her scent with her.

The child that he was did not understand that the babe would come soon. The child that he was did not know that she could die on the birthing bed. He was grateful that he made his last song to her a good one. He wouldn't have been able to live with himself otherwise.

The doors of the great hall were heavy, and they moved with a rumble, that of heavy iron and steel. They opened to reveal a row of Unsullied standing throughout the hall, carving him a path to the steps. He gazed up at the figure seated on the throne. He fought the instinct to call out for Queen Rhaella, for she looked like her, so much like her that it hurt to gaze upon her hair and her eyes.

He took the first step forward, and the one that came after was slightly easier. He walked behind Ser Barristan until they reached the steps. Ser Barristan took one step further and stopped, turning to face them as Missandei prepared to speak.

"You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of Meereen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains."

Jae wondered if this was meant to put him in his place. The titles were her own but all he could hear was his own echoing in his mind, Dragonseed, Cheese Knife, Madman's bastard. He wondered if it was Daenerys who thought it best to throw her titles at his feet. Regardless, he knelt and lowered his gaze to the floor as Godry and Melwyn did the same.

"Your grace," he said at last, "It's an honor to stand before you. I've kept you in my prayers and in my heart. I've come to serve, command me."

His words were met with silence. Jae did not dare raise his gaze. Before long, he could hear the faint sound of footsteps as the queen descended from her throne. "I don't know you well enough to command you, Ser. And you don't know me well enough to pledge me your service."

"I knew your mother, your grace," His words had a visible effect on her. The queen's shoulders stiffened, and the room became just a bit colder. "That is all I need to know."

"All my life I've looked over my shoulder for assassins, for betrayal, for men who sought to use my name for their gain," She did not seem swayed by his words, "I've been given a prophecy even. Would you like to hear it?"

"Your grace, I-"

"Soon comes the pale mare, and after her the others. Kraken and dark flame, lion and griffin, the sun's son, and the mummer's dragon. Trust none of them. This was my prophecy."

A hand found his chin, and soon violet was gazing into violet. "Are you my mummer's dragon, Ser Gerris?"

The moment was beyond anything he could have imagined. he'd come with arguments, prepared his proof, and rehearsed the words he would say a thousand times in his head. But now that he was here, now that he looked into her eyes, he could only see her mother. All words fell away when their eyes met. And though her gaze was steel, he saw a flicker in it, a need for truth.

"I'm no dragon, your grace," said Jae, "I'm a Dragonseed, a bastard knight. I'm not here to be a dragon, and I've not come all this way to betray you or take your place. I'm here for Queen Rhaella, without whom I would not have lived this long, without whom I never would have known the meaning of the word mother. If you do not want my service, I will leave. but I beg you to accept one last gift."

His eyes found Ser Barristan, and he inclined his head to remind him of the sword. Jae gained his feet and stepped closer to the old knight. Slowly, Jae undid the leather strips covering the pommel, and presented the queen with the blade hilt first, proudly displaying the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen.

"The queen left me this sword to remember, to honor Prince Rhaegar on my journey to find you. I've done what I can, your grace, it has taken no life that did not deserve it," He avoided her gaze as well as that of Melwyn and Godry, the shame was far too great.

"It was his first blade, your grace. Now it finds its way back to House Targaryen."

"I disagree," said the queen. She held the blade between her hands as though it would break at the slightest pressure. Her fingers moved over the three-headed dragon of her house before she returned the blade to Ser Barristan, "It never left House Targaryen. My mother saw to that."

"She's a part of me," said Jae, "Let me stand with you. For the love I bore your mother, your grace, for the love I bore you when you first came into this world, let me shield your back."

"She wrote fondly of you in the scrolls she left behind."

"I can tell you about her, your grace, I remember stories," said Jae, "They may not be much. But they are the comfort I seek when the nights are darkest."

The queen and the old knight exchanged a glance, one that put a frown on Missandei's face.

"Come, Ser Gerris, you and I shall speak alone."

"Well, your sister is something else."

"Watch your words, Godry."

"I mean well. She seems a strong woman with a kind heart."

"The masters pointing the way to Meereen would disagree."

"They can disagree all they want. They were vile men who deserved what they got. Do you think Tal's men deserve any less?"

"It's not my place to say what men deserve. Kings, queens, and lords decide, I'm but a sword."

"But if you could decide?"

"I don't know, Godry. I don't know if I'd like the man I would be."

"It's fortunate you were born a bastard then."

"If only the queen's advisors could see it your way, brother."

"Will you join me, Ser Gerris?"

"Your grace," he inclined his head in respect as he joined the queen on her perch above the city. He was taken by the sight of the city below, by the lights flickering against the setting sun. Meereen had an ancient beauty to it, a far cry from Westeros' untamed scenery.

"Were you afraid when you came before me?"

Jae chuckled, "I was, your grace, but not of death or punishment. I feared you would send me away."

"I still might," she said, a playful smile on her lips, "But I would never know if you're telling the truth."

"My word is all I have left. I swear that all I've told you is the truth."

"What you think is the truth."

Jae smiled.

"What is it?" asked the queen, having noticed his amusement.

"When I was a boy, Queen Rhaella and I would sit in her rooms and speak our minds. You would kick something fierce, your grace, and the queen would chastise you for it, as though you could hear her. A stubborn little dragon, she would call you. I'm happy to see the name still fits."

"I promised you two songs that night, two oaths, one of a knight, and one of a brother. She told me I was too young for such things." Jae looked to the queen beside him, finding her hanging on his every word. He imagined it difficult to grow without a single story about her mother, something that he understood better than most.

"I think she knew we would find each other someday,"

"She did," said the queen, "The scrolls she wrote, she was certain you would come."

"You are my sister, your grace. As much as it might shame you, you are all I have left of her," His words came easy, they always do when it's the truth.

"And it seems you are all I have," The honesty of her words left him reeling. What would I have given to hear such a thing? But his dreams of this day were always dark and miserable. All of his nightmares made her acceptance a thing of imagination, an impossibility to his own mind.

"Strange thing for a queen to say," his attempt to lighten the mood earned him a short laugh from the queen.

"Not at all, I imagine queens have less than most, Ser Gerris."

"She called me Jae," he said, "It would be an honor if my queen did as well."

"Will you call me Daenerys then?"

"Perhaps, your grace," he replied, "When no one is around to hear it."

"Does it shame you?"

"No, your grace, gods no," He was quick to answer, "But your court, your lords and ladies may not take kindly to a bastard-"

"I don't care, Jae." His name on her lips was a dream, a dream that I hope never to wake from. "That is not what you are to me."

"Then what am I, your grace?"

She considered his words for a moment before replying, "We shall see soon enough."

She left him there and disappeared back inside. Jae, the Dragonseed, watched over the city as it slept.

"And should a Dragonseed dare to be more?"

"History shows, my friend, that any with the stain of that name can never shed it."

"And should he dare?"

"Then I suppose it's Blackfyre and Blood once more."

"This is your doing! You spared his life and now we have another Blackfyre rebellion to dread."

"I pray for another Bloodraven instead. He seems a good man, he'll serve loyally."

"Desire is in all men, old friend. Some are simply clever enough to hide it."

"This one desires family, and he's too stupid to know how to hide it. Where's the harm in that?"

"I'll ask you again when the king has need of a wife, when a Dragonseed stands between them."