Sister's Keeper
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
A/N: I'm on a role. I wrote two chapters and post in one day. So, if you are reading this now, make sure you read Blindness in Anger, the previous chapter before this one.
Chapter 34: The Sons of the Harpy
Jorah's POV
The Exile Knight sat by the tiller of the sailboat guiding it on the current by the shores. His eyes straight forward ignoring the glare from his prisoner who leaned against the port. Tyrion was gagged while wrist tied together. Earlier when Tyrion fell unconscious Jorah adjusted the restraints just in case the dwarf falls overboard and can swim. Or should be able to swim.
Jorah needs Tyrion alive in order to be pardon by Alysanne. He hopes by giving the son of the man who betrayed her father can be enough. He knows his chances of being back together are near impossible, but he vowed to protect her. Maybe spending too much time with the Dothraki got to him. A blood rider who follows his Khal. Or in this case, Khaleesi. Wanting to be there when the Targaryen sisters take back the Iron Throne. Alysanne is what Westeros needs. A ruler who thinks about others over herself. The Ghiscari province is not safe, making more enemies than ever. Having a feeling the Masters of any city will try to kill them. Let alone, Alysanne can fall into pressure when a situation was severe. Not forgetting what happened in Qarth.
"Will you please untie me?" Tyrion muffled out a few times. "Will you please?"
Jorah ignored him.
Tyrion soon started to sing some annoying tune. The gag muffling his voice made it sound bothersome. For the sake of silence, Jorah secured the tiller, before climbing over and removed the gag out of the dwarf's mouth. He quickly returns to the tiller to make sure they were on course.
"Thank you," Tyrion muttered, looking over the coast, his hands, then at Jorah. "Who are you?"
"Your captor," Jorah answered.
"Do you have wine?" Tyrion asked.
"No," Jorah answered.
"Can't sleep without wine."
"Then stay awake."
Tyrion examined his surroundings. Trying to figure out where they were going, "You're going the wrong way. My sister is in Westeros. Westeros is west. We're heading east."
"I'm not taking you to your sister," Jorah said.
"You said you were taking me to the queen," Tyrion said confused.
"I am. Queen Alysanne Targaryen." Jorah clarified. "She's the queen I serve."
Tyrion started laughing, "What a waste of a good kidnapping. It so happens I was heading there myself."
"What business would you have with the queen?" Jorah asked.
"Gold and glory. Oh, and hate. If you'd ever met my sister, you'd understand" Tyrion answered, gesturing to his tied-up hands. "So, now that it's clear we are on the same side…"
Jorah gave him a look before focusing up ahead.
"A highborn knight from the North of Westeros down on his luck in Essos." Tyrion theorized, eyeing the knight frail sack where the armor and sword stuck out. "Dragon epaulets, bear sigil breastplate. You're Jorah Mormont. I have to ask. How exactly where you serving your queen in a whorehouse half a world away? Is it possible that you were running? Why would you be running? And why would she have sent you away?"
Jorah did not answer.
"Oh, wait. You were spying on her, weren't you?" Tyrion murmured. "It's all coming back to me. I was drunk through most of the small council meetings, but it's all coming back. You passed notes to Varys's little birds. She found out, didn't she? Found out and exiled you. Now you hope to win back her favor with a gift. Risky scheme. One might even say desperate. You think Alysanne and Daenerys will execute me and pardon you? I'd say the reverse is just as likely."
The Exiled Knight secured the tiller, before coming over. Tyrion lifted his tied hands expecting to be cut free. However, instead of a knife to cut the rope, the half-man was met with a fist across the face. The impact knocked Tyrion down and unconscious. Jorah sighed, going back to the tiller.
This is going to be a long journey, Jorah thought.
.o0o.
Alysanne's POV
I stood at one of the balconies with Daenerys as we viewed the city. It was a peaceful day. The weather was beautiful, not too hot as there was a slight breeze. A lot has happened, as the Harpy was still in the dungeons not confessing to his crime or providing evidence. I recommended a week before we go to trial. As for Mossador, I'm debating on his punishment. I simply can't let him go back to society when his distaste for the Masters are known. He was willing to kill someone who was held captive. Exile is one option, but then I fear for the next city over or the Meereenese seeking revenge. If only Slaver's Bay had a Night's Watch. When the Freemen assembled their new council, will I hold a trial for both men?
I along with Hizdahr and the Freemen representative will sit on the step and listen to the accused. Evidence will be presented, and the accused will have the opportunity to defend themselves. Afterward, the judges and I will deliberate if we find the accused guilty or innocent. If found innocent they are free to go and compensated for missing work. If found guilty…they will be executed. Unless two out of the three judges or all three decide a different punishment. If the Harpy is found guilty, I have no choice but to execute him. He killed one of my officers. As for Mossador…for attempted murder when you prevented it? Also knowing the young man is filled with hate. Not just to the Masters, but anyone who is born free. Mossador was given his freedom, but he forged his chains.
Changing the subject, the dragons were getting bigger. They were getting bigger. Not riding size, but they can still cause damage. A few weeks ago, Viserion tried to get into my room and couldn't. I think it broke his heart, that I try getting out more often. Especially during training. Visenya lessons have been helpful. Using the correct dragon rider spells and tricks. They were tamer than they were months before. Missandei could walk up to them and not receive a growl.
"Everyone looks happy enough from up here," Daenerys murmured.
Ser Barristan who joined us laughed.
"What?" Daenerys asked, looking at him.
"I was thinking about all the times your brother made me go with him down from the Red Keep into the streets of King's Landing." Ser Barristan confessed.
"Why?" Daenerys asked, now curious.
"He liked to walk among the people." He answered. "He liked to sing to them."
"He sang to them?" She asked, impressed.
"Yes," he chuckled.
Daenerys and I chuckled as we walked back inside to the council room. We sat down, though Ser Barristan remained standing.
"Rhaegar would pick a spot on the Hook or the Street of Seeds and then he'd sing. Just like all the other minstrels." He continued.
"And what did you do?" I asked.
"I made sure no one killed him. And I collected the money," he answered.
I raised a brow.
"What? He liked to see how much he could make." He said with a shrug.
"He was good?" Daenerys asked.
"He was very good." I answered. "Give him his silver harp and women will week and children would dance."
"Viserys never told you?" Barristan asked.
"He told us Rhaegar was good at killing people," Daenerys said.
Ser Barristan shook his head, "Rhaegar never liked killing. He loved singing."
"And what did you do with the money?" Daenerys asked.
"Well, one time he gave it to the next minstrel down the street. One time, he gave it to an orphanage in Flea Bottom. One time, we got horribly drunk."
We all laughed at that. I tried to remember Rhaegar and imagine him and Ser Barristan drinking away with rosy cheeks, cheering over nonsense. Imagining Elia shaking her head amused by their antics when they return to the keep.
"Do you remember any of his songs?" Daenerys asked us.
"He wrote a lot of songs," I answered. "But I remember one that Rhaenys and I would dance too. Give me a moment…For Dancing and the Dreaming…it was a duet. Elia would sing the song with him."
I tried to remember the lyrics and started to sing,
Ser Barristan suddenly started to murmuring the song.
"I'll swim and sail on savage seas
With never a fear of drowning
And gladly ride the waves of life
If you would marry me
No scorching sun nor freezing cold
Will stop me on my journey,
If you will promise me your heart.
And love…"
The memory of the lyrics came up as I stood,
"And love me for eternity
My dearest one, my darling dear
Your mighty words astound me
But I've no need for mighty deeds
When I feel your arms around me."
Suddenly Ser Barristan took my hand leading a dance singing the next verse.
"But I would bring you rings of gold
I'd even sing you poetry
And I would keep you from all harm
If you would stay beside me"
I sang the next one,
"I have no use for rings of gold
I care not for your poetry
I only want your hand to hold
I only want you near me"
Soon we were singing the last verse together.
"To love and kiss to sweetly hold
For the dancing and the dreaming
Through all life's sorrows
And delights
I'll keep your laugh inside me
I'll swim and sail a savage seas
With never a fear of drowning
I'd gladly ride the waves so white
And you will marry me!"
We almost stumbled over each other, from the dress, yet we were having fun. Bringing back happy memories from King's Landing. Daenerys sat there clapping her hands. It's been so long to feel this happy. Ser Barristan has been a good friend since joining us. A guardian and uncle figure. From his guidance and stories let me feel joy for the first time in a long time.
Suddenly Daario enters the room, "Your Grace…am I interrupting something."
"No, merely missed a good show," Daenerys said, still smiling.
"What is it, Daario?" I asked, correcting my skirt.
"Hizdahr is here, waiting in the audience chamber, along with the pit fighters," Daario answered.
"How many others are there?" I asked.
"Ah…twenty-five? Fifty?" Daario guessed.
I did promise Hizdahr I would consider reopening the fighting pits after reading the Yunkish proposition and listening to the pit fighters reasoning. Much as I despise killing humans as a means of entertainment. There were a tradition and custom to appease their gods. The question should be if I allow blood spilled on the sands of The Great Pit of Daznak or not. A difficult decision, especially one that could reduce the Sons of the Harpies retaliation.
I turned to Ser Barristan, "Will you be joining us, Ser Barristan?"
"I think I can protect you ladies from Hizdahr zo Loraq," Daario said.
"I think I can protect me from Hizdahr zo Loraq," I silence him.
"Go, Ser Barristan." Daenerys murmured. "Sing another song for me."
Ser Barristan smiled giving a bow, "Your Highness. Your Grace."
He left the chamber to enjoy his day off. He deserves a chance to enjoy himself instead of continually being by my side. Meanwhile, Daenerys, Daario, and I went to the Audience Hall to meet the pit fighters. Once in our position, with Missandei, Hizdahr came forward taking the middle platform giving a bow. Once the introductions were in order, the representative of the Meereenese spoke.
"All men must die, but not all can die in glory."
"Glory?" I asked.
"Why else do men fight?" Hizdahr asked. "Why did your ancestors cross the Narrow Sea and conquer the Seven Kingdoms? So, their names would live on."
"My ancestors crossed the Narrow Seas because Daenys the Dreamer had a vision of the Doom. They left out of survival. Not glory." I corrected him.
"Forgive me," Hizdahr apologized and continued. "Those who find victory in the fighting pits will never become kings, but their names will live on. It's the best chance they'll ever have."
"Is that what you used to tell men before you set them to butchering each other for sport?" Daenerys asked bitterly.
"Your Grace, princess, today is the traditional start of the fighting season," Hizdahr explained. "Traditions are the only thing that will hold this city, your city, together. Without them, former slaves and former masters have nothing in common. Nothing but centuries of mistrust and resentment. I can't promise this is the answer to all our problems, but it's a start."
I sighed, "I have read the concession, reading the Masters point of view. Now I want to hear the fighter's perspective."
"Of course," Hizdahr said, as he called for the pit fighters.
The Unsullied were on guard at the ready as men and women came in. All in different stages of physicality to fight and from different ethnicities. All in their battle armor or attire, yet they did not have their weapons. Each of them told how the fighting pits changed them. Made them feel strong and powerful. When I ask how they felt about killing an innocent, one said:
"There are no innocents in the fighting pit. You either have the strength, or you were punished to die."
I asked about the killing people with the animals, and the Head of the Daznak pit explained that those were Ghiscari's version of execution. I had a hard time accepting that these people are willing to kill each other for the sake of entertainment and blood for the gods. I tried to compare them to the Dothraki, but…these people were trained killers who want to put their skills in an arena and not out on the streets.
"Thank you all for sharing your perspectives, it has helped me think about the decision," I said.
Before the Head of the Daznak pit could speak, there was a sound of the bells. Everyone stopped, since the pitch and tone of the signals were not the sound of invasion, but instead telling people to get inside because there was a riot.
.o0o.
Ser Barristan's POV
Ser Barristan the Bold enjoyed his stroll through the streets of Meereen. He had a small smile on his face remembering what happened in the Council Chamber, entertaining the Targaryen Sisters with a song and dance. It brought memories of Rhaegar and Elia singing the song, while Alysanne and Rhaenys dance on the floor, spinning around till tripping and collapsed in a fit of giggles. The knight won't deny that those girls were kept hidden under the Mad Kings paranoia, never having the opportunity to be children until Rhaegar came in the room.
So many thoughts linger about the Crown Prince. Out of the four children who survived through infancy, three were born from grief. Rhaegar being so melancholy, a sense of doom. A shadow hung over him all his days. Always reading until the sudden change to learn how to use a sword and trained to be a knight. The drastic improvement of a gifted person under a short period of time. Always stating a long night will come again. What brought peace to the Crown Prince were the children. When rumors spread that King Aerys was going to arrange Viserys to marry Alysanne, made Rhaegar disappointed as if he could see the fate of the two before it could even happen.
There was one statement Ser Barristan recall Rhaegar said in preparation for the tridents. "When the battle's done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but ... well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return."
That was the thing that got Ser Barristan. He thought Rhaegar was happy with Princess Elia Martell. A gentle, good, and gracious lady, even when she was frail, due to her delicate health. Even then, the Martell was kind and clever, with a sweet wit. Strong to give birth to two beautiful children and welcome Viserys and Alysanne into her life. So, during the Tourney of Harrenhall of the False Spring, when Prince Rhaegar defeated him in a joust. Giving the crown of Love and Beauty to Lady Lyanna Stark instead of his wife, Elia...destroyed everything. Barristan tried to remember why, then again, he recalls his friend investigating a knight who the King thought insulted him. A mystery knight, the Knight of the Laughing tree, who vanished during mid-tourney.
A year later, Rhaegar took Lyanna Stark from the North.
Prince Rhaegar loved his Lady Lyanna, and thousands died for it, Barristan thought.
Now he can see Rhaegar once again in Alysanne. The Queen held so much resemblance from her brother. From the eyes, the hair, and the shape of the face. Most importantly, their personality, the thirst for knowledge, to make a difference, the need to train, and prepare. The ideas of justice over execution and so much more. If Rhaegar were still alive, he would have arranged Alysanne to marry a Martell or a Tyrell.
Ser Barristan sighed, knowing he needs to stop comparing Alysanne to Rhaegar. Although there were so many similarities, they were two different people. Then again, they both loved someone they couldn't have. Only Rhaegar died for Lyanna while Alysanne gave up her happiness with Ser Jorah for the sake of her House. An endless cycle for a Targaryen never genuinely getting what they want.
Suddenly bells caught Ser Barristan's attention. Immediately he saw the people rushing inside to avoid the fight. Drawing his blade, he maneuvers around the citizens to investigate. Entering the Second Sons base finding several sells words dead. A commotion of a battle caught his attention in one of the indoor alleys. Rushing over, he found a battle happening. Seeing seven of the Unsullied still alive using their spears or short swords and shields, while twenty sons of the Harpy were fighting them. Another thing he notices was that the Unsullied were struggling, not because of the tight quarters, but the Harpies were skilled.
Mercenaries, Ser Barristan thought.
He rushed over stabbing a harpy in the back. A few of the gold masks turned around staring at him confused. Ser Barristan took the opportunity and attack. He blocked the straight forward attacks, twisting and turning almost as if he was dancing while his sword made contact to blade and flesh. Cutting off limbs, slicing backs and torsos, and thrusting into the chest. One Harpy got behind Ser Barristan shoving him forward, the older knight stumbled, yet he grabbed one of his opponents, turning them around, so the Harpy who shoved him, ended up stabbing his friend. The Harpy looked up only to be met with a sword across his neck.
Ser Barristan panted seeing Grey Worm fall to the ground. The older knight rushed in, only to be stabbed in the left shoulder. Barristan cried out in pain, adjusting the grip of his handle and pulled the sword backward, stabbing the Harpy. Not one for theatrics, yanked the sword back and rushed to Grey Worm while the other Unsullied dealt with the rest.
Grey Worm was holding his side, bleeding badly. Barristan looked up finding all the Harpies were dead, along with three Unsullied dead. Maybe Four is Grey Worm doesn't get immediate treatment. Quickly he took his belt and tied it around the Unsullied commander's torso using it as a tourniquet along with a sash from a harpy's corpse to reduce bleeding. Then taking more scatter fabrics to cover the wound adding pressure.
The rest of the Unsullied rushed over to help as they plan on moving their commander to a healer. Ser Barristan got up, then winced feeling pain in his left shoulder. The adrenaline leaving his system that he realized he was injured. Ignoring the pain, the blood dripping down his back, he walked over to a Harpy pulling off his mask. He noticed something was off. The man did not look Ghiscari or from the central regions of Essos. No, he appeared to be more from the Western Side, based on the red hair and green eyes.
This confirms these men were mercenaries.
The question is, who hired the mercenaries?
So, what do you guys think? Sorry if the fighting seemed off. Battle scenes are hard, and I was on Ser Barristan's POV. You begged me for it, so I complied. Ser Barristan the Bold lives. I took a look at his information page, and even a man of his age was still capable of fighting. Also, I hate how the show starts off the Unsullied as elite soldiers, and suddenly by Season five, they are easily killed. Hence, I'm not going through that route. Also, adding more twist, that the Sons of the Harpy may not all Meereenese by how the Series presented itself.
Song used was For the Dancing and the Dream by How to Train Your Dragon 2. Imagine Ser Barristan and Alysanne dance the way Stoic and Valka dance. No, there is no romance between Alysanne and Ser Barristan. I see them more like a niece and uncle, or a father/daughter relationship.
Thanks for reading and please leave a review!