Sister's Keeper
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones.
Chapter 33: Blindness in Anger
Grey Worm was leading his patrol unit with Daario Naharis. They received information about a possible suspect in White Rat's murder. Daario hearing what has happened to White Rat decided to help with his men. Was only a few days later did one of Daario's men found out who was the assassin in the Unsullied Officers death. All of it leading to a working woman saw White Rat enter the brothel of Vala, seeing the Unsullied Officer go in and a few minutes later another man goes in wearing a Harpy Mask. When the man came out, she saw the face belonging to a familiar patron a lower class Meereenese. The woman received her reward, as Daario and Grey Worm went to check on the information.
"The Unsullied are too conspicuous," Daario said. "Anyone can see you coming from a mile off. Of course, you haven't found any Sons of the Harpy. You haven't, have you."
Grey Worm gave a grunt.
"My Second Sons, on the other hand, they drink, they whore, fight in the streets, they blend in. They overhear things in taverns, follow people from the taverns to nice, quiet alleys, break a few fingers, overhear a few more things." Daario said as they stop at one of the doors of an apartment on the ground level. "Before you know it…"
Daario nodded hinting this was a location.
Grey Worm secured his spear before kicking the door down. The Unsullied barged in weapons with spears ready, checking all possible hidden points in the one-room apartment. The place was empty. Only minimal furniture's Daario looked around, seeing the texture of the walls, till noticing one wall paint seem off.
"No one here," Grey Worm said. "We go."
"In a hurry?" Daario asked. "You're afraid."
"Unsullied fear nothing," Grey Worm reminded.
"Right," Daario gave a humorous sighed, then walked over to the wall behind the commander. "That's your problem. You understood fear once long ago, but you've forgotten what it means. Someone who's forgotten fear has forgotten how to hide."
Grey Worm doubt it.
Daario shrugged as he grabbed his stiletto and stabbed the wall. A man scream echoed from the wall. The pain caused the suspect to fall out of his hiding place over a standing shelf. He held his thigh where a puncture wound was. The Captain of the Second Sons came over to Grey Worm lofty.
"Fear is useful that way," Daario murmured, patting the Unsullied shoulder and walked off.
Grey Worm tried not to scowl, as he nods his head to his comrade to grab the suspect. Meanwhile, he lowers his spear and examines the hidden room that was narrow. Kneeling down, he found a sack. Inside the bag, he discovered bronze daggers and a Son of a Harpy mask.
.o0o.
Alysanne's POV
A Meereen Council meeting was assembled. As I had my usual Small council members and the two representatives of Meereen, Mossador for the Freemen, and Hizdahr zo Loraq for the Masters. The leader of the Great House was appointed in the position from the eight high rankings Great Master family. Out of the eight, I would say they made a wise decision. Since Hizdahr proved himself as my envoy in Astapor and Yunkai. However, Mossador is still not pleased about the Master in the Council, believing Hizdahr may have a part of it.
Now that Grey Worm and Daario have obtained the suspect of White Rat's death, we need to figure out a way to get information and the punishment. Everyone sat around the table except for Daenerys and Grey Worm.
"Sons of the Harpy, they want to put a collar back on my neck. On all our necks." Mossador said, looking at me. "Please, Your Grace, you must kill him."
"It would send a message," Daenerys said.
Ser Barristan lifted his hand as a caution, "I think you should exercise restraint, your highness."
"Why?" Daenerys asked.
"For one thing, he may have valuable information," Ser Barristan answered.
"The Son of the Harpy has no more valuable information," Daario disagreed.
"How do you know that?" Ser Barristan asked.
"Because I questioned him," Daario answered.
I took a deep breath, "Sometimes answers don't come immediately. Time in a dark cell will rectify that."
Ser Barristan and Hizdahr nodded in agreement.
"And the information you did get, he is a young and poor," Hizdahr said.
"He is born free," Mossador countered.
"Why should he want to bring back slavery?" Hizdahr asked Mossador. "What did it do for him?"
"Perhaps the only thing that gave him pride was knowing that there was someone lower than he was." Daenerys assumed.
"They pay him," Mossador said, tapping his fingers on the table. "Great families afraid to do a thing. They pay poor man to do it for them."
"And how do you know this?" Hizdahr asked.
"Everyone knows this," Mossad answered.
"I don't know it, and I'm the head of a great family," Hizdahr said.
"We do not know what this man did or didn't do," Ser Barristan interrupted the argument. "Give him a trial at least. A fair trial. Show all the citizens of Meereen that you're better than those who would depose you. Teach them a better way."
"I do not know the place from where Old Ser comes," Mossador said. "Things maybe are different there, I hope. But here in Meereen, before Dragon Sisters, they own us. So, we learn much about them, or we do not live long." He then glared at Hizdahr. "They teach me what they are. Mercy, fair trial – these mean nothing to them. All they understand is blood."
"The man will remain in the dungeon until we can get further information. Once we collected enough evidence, then we will hold a trial." I said standing up. "Thank you all for your counsel."
All stood up giving a bow, departing the Council Chamber. All who remain was Ser Barristan. Once the others were gone, Ser Barristan spoke, "Your Grace, a word, please, I beg you."
"About what?" I asked.
"About your father," Ser Barristan answered. "About the Mad King."
"I know what he did, Ser Barristan," I said taking a deep breath.
"Your Grace, I served in his Kingsguard. I was at his side from the first. Your enemies did not lie."
Having a feeling Ser Barristan wanted to get this off his chest. I let him.
"When the people rose in revolt against him, your father set their towns and castles aflame. He murdered sons in front of their fathers. He burned men alive with wildfire and laughed as they screamed. And his efforts to stamp out dissent led to a rebellion that killed every Targaryen except three." He said.
"I'm not my father," I said.
"No, Your Grace. Thank the gods," he said. "But the Mad King gave his enemies the justice he thought they deserved. And each time it made him feel powerful and right. Until the very end."
"I will not have the Son of the Harpy executed without a fair trial," I assure him.
"Your Grace," he sighed in relief.
"Can I ask…when he started to go Mad?" I asked.
Ser Barristan took a deep breath, "He started off as a fair, very ambitious king. I think when he appointed Tywin Lannister as Hand of the King, he grew jealous, I would say 265 did the signs of madness started to show, mistaken from jealousy and obsession. When Rhaella kept losing the pregnancy, it added to sorrow. It wasn't until the defiance of Duskendale did he snap. I was the only one who rescued him. I ask myself did I make the right decision or allow Rhaegar the opportunity to become king. When he ordered that House Hollard be burned alive was the day, he officially became mad. All but one of House Hollard perished. I pleaded your father to spare the boy."
I took a deep breath.
"What was he like on the day I was born?" I asked.
"Your mother Rhaella labored for two days to give birth to you. At the same time, ten men were brought in on Crimes of supposed treason. The worse being a woman who was accused of using magic. She cursed him saying all his sons shall die, before being set ablaze. When their screams died…was when your cries could be heard. He held you in his arms before your mother could. For a moment…everyone thought you could make a change. The love for his daughter."
"Then came the Fall of the Dragons," I whispered.
Ser Barristan nodded.
Now it makes sense on the spell Great Grandfather Aegon did to the dragon eggs affected me. As Visenya predicted only tragedy can give a Targaryen the ability to be immune by fire. Rhaegar with the burning of Summerhall, Daenerys during the Great Storm, and I…the execution of ten people burned alive.
"I barely remember him," I confessed.
"It's probably the best you didn't," he said.
I could only nod.
Then a thought came up thinking about Mossador behavior since we were discussing about impulsive behavior. Something told me that Mossador is not going to follow my orders. Lately, his behavior toward Hizdahr is not acceptable. I will not tolerate hostilities in my Council. Right now, this Son of a Harpy is our only source in getting the insurgence. As much as I hate this idea.
"Get Grey Worm, we have to move the prisoner to a secure location," I said.
"Yes, Your Grace," Ser Barristan said.
Once we got Grey Worm, we went to the dungeons to meet the Son of the Harpy. The Unsullied open the door as I entered the room looking at the man who could have killed one of my Officers. The man stood up looking down at me with distaste. Especially when his face was bruised from Daario's interrogation methods.
"You don't belong here," the Harpy said. "And no matter how many traitors call you 'Mhysa,' you will never be their mother."
"Be thankful that I am one about mercy," I said. "Until a trial weigh on you. Strip."
I stepped out of the room as the prisoner was forced to stripped and into the clothes that were provided. Grey Worm wore the Meereenese garments, while the man wore a freeman attire. The Unsullied took the prisoner to a secure chamber while the trap was set. I pray to the Seven that Mossador is wise and allow me to do my duty as Queen to punish the accuse.
.o0o.
Unfortunately, what I suspected came true. Mossador along with members of the Freemen council tried to kill the Son of the Harpy. Grey Worm and the Unsullied arrest the men and question them. All the council members say it was Mossador decision. Saying I was the one who told them to do it. Taking control of my emotions, I summoned the Small Council except for Hizdahr to not make the situation worse.
Mossador was brought in shackles, as he kneels on the lowest platform. Grey Worm and Ser Barristan stood behind me, Missandei, Daario, and Daenerys stood on the middle platform while I sat on the ebony bench.
"Why?" I demanded.
"For you, Mhysa," Mossador answered, as he fell to his knee. "You wanted the Harpy dead, but your hands were tied. I set you free, as you did all of us."
"He was our prisoner, awaiting trial. You had no right," I said.
"He would rather rip your city apart than see slaves lifted from the dirt," Mossador argued.
"There are no more slaves. There are no more masters." I reminded.
"Then who lives in the pyramid? Who wears gold masks and murder your children?" he challenged. "When Grey Worm came to us, I was the first to take up the knife for you. I remember the look on my brother's face as I struck down his master, who had traded his infant son for a dog. My brother died in the fighting. If we allow the Sons of the Harpy to return us to chains, he never lived."
"The Harpy's life is not yours to take," I scolded. "Once, the masters were the law- "
"And now you are the law!" Mossador interrupted.
"The law is the law," I scolded. "You disappoint me, Mossador. You say you believe in me, and yet, you went behind my back when my decision was made. Your people elected you as their voice in my council. You failed them. You do not speak for them; you speak for yourself. And used your power in attempt to kill a man on the accusations you conspire out of hate. You are stripped from your position. Take him."
Two Unsullied guards came over escorting Mossador to the dungeon. Once he was gone, I took a deep breath pinching the brim of my nose to alleviate a migraine that was forming.
"What are you going to do to him?" Daenerys asked.
"He betrayed me," I answered. "If he went behind my back and try to kill a man under my name. If I didn't have my suspensions, there would be a dead Harpy. The worse is that if I let Mossador go, it won't stop him from killing others. Until a new Freemen council is assembled, and a new representative…Mossador will be my prisoner until further notice."
"And the Harpy?" Daenerys continued.
"Has he cracked from being in his cell?" I asked.
"No," Ser Barristan answered.
"Tell the Harpy what has happened, let's see how he feels otherwise he better get comfortable until his trial," I said.
Ser Barristan nodded, with a small smile.
A fair trial. I made that promise, and I will keep my word.
.o0o.
Jorah's POV
The exiled knight sat in the corner of a brothel in Volantis. The past five months have not been too kind to him since he was banished from Meereen. His heart heavy, broken more than ever from Lyneese. Made him realize he was never in love with Lyneese, only captivated by her beauty. With Alysanne, it was true love, as she was everything he ever wanted. Not because of her beauty, but spirit and personality. For many months he wandered around the Free Cities, mainly drinking his way till finding himself in Volantis. When he entered the city, he crossed through the bridge until spotting a gathering.
It was an R'hllor priestess, a Yitish woman who was once a slave by the teardrop tattooed on her left cheek. A woman who was once a slave whore now held praise, especially being Yitish, from the land of Yi Ti. Jorah has never been to Yi Ti, but he knows the people are different from their bright eye, pale skin, and dark hair, who export trade in spices, especially in saffron. The woman had a gathering, as she spoke in Valyrian.
"Āeksios aōhos oñoso īlōn jehikās kesrio syt bantis zōbrie issa se ossȳngnoti lēdys! Hae jeme istin. Sindity se liorty, qilonty se ozbārty," The Priestess praised.
Jorah learning some Valyrian managed to translate what the woman was saying. "Lord cast your light upon us for the night is dark and full of terrors! I was once as you are now. Bought and sold, scourged and branded."
He continued to listen, as the woman continues with the worshipers recited what the red priestess praised. "The Lord of Light hears your voices. He hears the kings as he hears the slaves; he hears the Stone Men in their misery. He has sent you two saviors! From the fire, they were reborn remake the world. The Dragon Sisters."
Jorah doubted Alysanne would partake in the R'hllor religion. Knowing the Dragoness was devoted to the Faith of the Seven, as were many Targaryen Women for many generations. Let alone, his lover does not tolerate bloodshed without probable cause. Over the years the radical R'hllor would burn people alive to those who were not of their faith. Jorah keeping to his cynic belief has spared him on occasion. The only R'hllor priest he trusted not to burn him alive was Thoros of Myr. Although, he didn't mind the drunken priest's praises.
However, just as he kept moving the Yitish red priestess came over to him. She said something in High Valyrian. Her dark eyes stabbing into his soul. He carefully moved around her until coming into a brothel. Tormented by that experience wondering what the woman was saying. When asking one of the prostitutes who knew high Valyrian the woman said, "The Seed of Ice for the womb of Fire. A dynasty of no other."
He took that as nonsense as he orders any cheap alcohol to drown his sorrows. Listening for news in Meereen. All he has heard was that the Ghiscari province is establishing a new order. Cleon the Butcher was dead by Daario Naharis, and Yunkai has stopped their revolt. Other news of the Dragon Sisters was more of questions and wonders. It made things worse when the brothel started having to Lysene women wandering around for the patrons. Both being Valyrian descent or appeared to be with their silver-white hair, pale-blue eyes, and pale skin. Insult to injury as the two women wore similar attire of the blue and red dresses Daenerys and Alysanne wore through slavers bay, except the cleavage more elaborate, and the back of the dresses cut out revealing their buttocks.
The patrons would call out, "The Mother of Dragons." And "Dragon Queen." One time the woman in red came over to him, sitting on his lap trying to course him into her chambers. A moment of weakness, in his drunken state in thoughts of seeing Alysanne. But as the booze wears off, he only saw pale blue eyes, not indigo. Temptation before him, yet Jorah just couldn't. His heart and body belong to another.
So here he was, drinking away to an early grave while listening to conversations that could be of use. Only if the two Lysene women weren't a distraction in their facade of being the Dragon Sisters. It was hard enough not to shove men away from them when they continue the act of being "Magic." They have no idea what magic was. The past few years he has seen magic, and all it has left is pain and suffering. It wasn't long when one conversation caught his attention, since the man's voice was Westerosi, more specifically one from the South either Reach, Westerland, or Crownland.
"Do I look like a man without money?" the man said. "Never trust looks. Until quite recently, I was one of the richest men in the world."
The prostitute laughed.
Jorah looked at the walls small decoration that was reflective enough to that of a mirror. There he saw a dwarf, darken gold hair, a beard with a scar across his face, and green eyes. He watched the dwarf take a seat next to the dark hair prostitute, trying to woo her.
"Who needs wealth when you can make a woman laugh? I always pay my debts. I'm well known for it."
Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Jorah thought.
Laughter where the Lysene women could be heard.
"You like her," the prostitute said. "They all like them. They all want to fuck a queen and princess."
"That's because they've never met a queen." Tyrion murmured.
"You're just saying that," the girl said.
"You know how to spot a liar. If I could pick any girl here, I would pick you."
"Why?"
"Because you have a skeptical mind."
"All right, then. I'm warning you; we're going to have to wash you first. Come on." As the prostitute stood up taking his hand.
"I'm – I'm sorry, I can't."
"Of course, you can. You're shy."
"I'm not."
"Have another drink."
"Gladly, but this I can't do. Believe me, no one is more shocked than I am. I hope it passes. What will I do in my spare time? Go for a piss. That's a start."
Jorah heard Tyrion left and waited. A plan conspiring in the exile knight head. Tyrion Lannister, son of Tywin Lannister, was here in Volantis. Out of all the places the Imp could be, he somehow wandered into the same brothel Jorah was wallowing in. Was this a sign from the gods or a mere coincidence? Either way, Jorah knew he had an opportunity to redeem himself back to the Dragon Sisters. A chance to earn Alysanne's forgiveness. The Dragoness openly admitted out of all the Great Houses who rebelled against House Targaryen, House Lannister is the one she despised the most. After Tywin Lannister sacked King's Landing and orders Ser Gregor Clegane to slaughter Elia Martell and her two children, while Ser Jaime Lannister broke his oath and killed King Aerys the Second. Tyrion can be the perfect gift to be pardon and hopefully reinstate him back in the Targaryen Campaign. The chances of getting Alysanne forgiveness might be slim, and their relationship severed…but he would do anything to fight by her side.
So, finishing his drink, he went to his room to grab his property before he searches for the Imp. It wasn't hard to find the dwarf, as the half-man urinating off the side of the bridge, at the same time drinking. Jorah secured his pack while hiding the rope and strip of cloth that has a knot in it.
"No need to worry. I was just—" Tyrion started looking over his shoulder staring at him. "Oh, I thought you were someone else." Tyrion looked ahead finishing up, as he corrected his pants. "Show's almost over. I'm sure there are girls inside who'd be happy to oblige."
Jorah examined the alley seeing there were no bystanders. Taking this a moment of opportunity, he came over fastening the rope around Tyrion. This startled the dwarf.
"You've made some kind of mistake," Tyrion said, trying to break free but was restrained. "Why don't you tell me what you think you're doing and then—"
Jorah silences him, by securing a gag in the Lannister's mouth. "I'm taking you to the queen."
The Exile Knight grabbed Tyrion around the waist and carried him over his shoulder, before going down to the docks. There Jorah knocked a fisherman unconscious stealing his boat and supplies. Although, he did leave some gold coins as compensation over the unconscious man. More than enough. Afterward, the two sailed in the dead of night.
What do you guys think?
Did Alysanne do the right thing?
Thanks for reading and please leave a review!