The Pain of Peace

I do not own ASOIAF or Game of Thrones

Lucy- Portrayed by Sophia Anne Caruso

Tristan Rivers- Portrayed by Damian Lewis

Laswell Peake- Portrayed by Javier Bardem

Tomo of the Hundred Isles- Portrayed by Ben Barnes

293 AC Pentos

Jon grinned as he parried away another strike from Aegon. "Come now, Gon, no amount of feints are going to work against me as long as you project your tells." Sweat dripped down his brow as his excitement grew at the look of frustration on Aegon's face. He loved to see Aegon's composure break.

Two years. Two years had passed since Wylla had died and the plot to destroy the Golden Company was revealed. None had been idle during this time. Jon had spent countless hours training in arms under the watchful eye of Myles Toyne and his father. Aegon had as well. Since that first day they had spoken to each other, the two boys had forged an inseparable bond. Arthur had wondered at it himself, the way the Blackfyre so easily filled a spot in Jon's heart for a sibling or best friend. The two of them had pushed each other to new heights both in martial learnings and by way of their education. Jon himself had become a more proactive person as a result having involved himself in plans and schemes every occasion they met with Myles. To the knight's surprise and some trepidation, the young Aegon had formed an odd sort of friendship with the spymaster Lysono Maar. Lysono had been less forthcoming with the details but he seemed to delight in having a sort of apprentice. Arthur's new knowledge of exactly the sort of deeds the Blight of Lys had committed made him more wary than happy that the boy had made a friend.

"Gon, focus, you need to press him. You're overthinking the fight." Arthur spoke off to the side, ever the stern mentor. The dusty courtyard was alight in the radiant gaze of the sun. That same courtyard had possibly been the best benefit to taking Illyrio's manse. Seven knew how many rooms Arthur had to strip of gaudy gold ornaments to keep the manor from looking like the ostentatious magister's palace it had been. While there was no fixing the artistic architecture, Arthur could rest easy knowing he was no longer surrounded by decor worth more than his armor. The Kingsguard put his new wealth to a different task, hiring servants at wages far higher than they could receive anywhere else and even requisitioning some of the men from the Golden Company to guard the manse and its inhabitants.

To his surprise, not long after the events of two years ago Arthur had been promoted to the position of captain and with that, had been given a greater scope of responsibility. The hierarchy of the Golden Company was still somewhat strange to the Westerosi but he had to admit the organization and discipline of the men benefitted the company greatly. Arthur was one of three captains with only the Captain-General possessing a higher rank. Below the captains were the commanders of the specialized units such as Black Balaq's archers and the Serjeants that lead the rank and file. So great was his leap in rank that Arthur went from looking over less than a hundred men to somewhere around a thousand and five hundred. Arthur was dubious that he deserved the rank, like most things in his life, but he enjoyed being able to assign guards to Jon when he went about his own business in the city.

If the incident with Illyrio had taught him anything it was that danger could wield a dagger at his throat at any time or place.

Aegon nodded silently as he adjusted his posture, blunted blade brandished before him. Aegon was a good swordsman for his age. He followed any instruction or form to the letter and it showed in his spars. He fought with a detachment and precision that Arthur himself was familiar with. Discipline and mental control of your emotions in a fight was a valuable skill, especially for a Kingsguard.

Jon swiped another strike aside with almost contemptuous ease and planted a boot in Aegon's chest forcing him to withdraw. Jon, on the other hand fell on the entire other end of the spectrum. While Jon completed his drills with the utmost discipline and listened raptly to any instruction, he fought with strong emotions and momentum. Strategies were considered and dismissed as he fought with an untempered fervor. It was an entirely alien mindset to a knight's perspective but the boy bore a fervor with him that was infectious. With a sword in his hand, Jon was at his best, confident and determined to best any foe before him. To be entirely honest, Arthur hadn't seen a talent of that like in his life.

"Yield." Jon said with a victorious gleam in his eyes as he leveled his sword at Aegon's nape. The blue haired boy sighed in defeat as he sheathed the blade. "I yield. I'm afraid I'll never be your match with a sword."

Jon sheathed his own sword. "Don't say that Gon, you know that I'd rather have you than anyone else by my side."

Arthur coughed.

"Well, anyone except father that is. But he doesn't count." The boy grinned as he wiped the moisture from his brow.

Jon and Aegon laughed together as Arthur took Aegon's place. Arthur mock-frowned. "I don't count? That's hardly fair."

Jon squared off against Arthur with an easy smile and an eager glint in his eyes. "Father, you could fight against both of us blindfolded with one hand tied to your back and still thrash us."

Arthur hid a smirk. "Maybe not blindfolded."

Jon snorted as he drew his sparring sword before sobering.

Likewise Arthur readied his own blade. "Same conditions?" He asked.

Jon nodded and his eyes narrowed.

Jon took the initiative as was his won't. He struck high and Arthur parried the blow with a flick of his own sword. Jon spun with the redirected momentum into a thrust that Arthur sidestepped easily.

Jon pressed, striking forcefully several times in succession as he spun with Arthur's blocks or flowed into a new attack off of a parry.

Arthur stayed in control as he stepped back minutely. Even this much was a testament to Jon's skill and abnormal strength. While Arthur could easily keep up with Jon's speed, his strength for being just ten years of age was nothing to scoff at.

Of course while the average warrior would have underestimated Jon because of his size and age, Arthur never did. He had stopped doing that two years ago.

Arthur began to fight back speeding up the pace of the fight. Jon growled as Arthur pushed him back lashing out with a wild punch.

Arthur surged forward at that moment his armored breast impacting Jon's gloved fist.

The boy winced as he jumped back clenching and unclenching his fist. Arthur looked over to Aegon. "See what I mean Gon? You must be aggressive to take control of the fight."

Jon grit his teeth at Arthur before spinning into a backhand stroke. The blow was stopped cold at Arthur's blade. Jon got in close, his blade scraping against the length of Arthur's own as he kicked at Arthur's leg.

Arthur grunted in annoyance at the blow before grasping Jon's wrist in one hand and wrenching his sword away. In the next moment his own was poised at Jon's neck. "Yield."

Jon nodded slowly as he scowled. Arthur let go of Jon who backed up as he sheathed his sword. "Your problem is the opposite Jon. You rely too much on instinct and aggression, rather than pacing yourself and crafting strategies. You only planned as far ahead as getting within my guard. However, both of you did well."

Jon's scowl transformed into a grin as he and Aegon looked at each other with similar looks of anticipation.

"Does that mean-"

Arthur nodded and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Yes, I'll allow you to ride in the flatlands. Bring one of the guard with you and you can stay until sunset. Remember, we have our last meeting tonight, don't dawdle."

The boys nodded, sharing mischievous looks.

Jon's mood lifted as the thick crowds of the streets of Pentos dissipated as they approached the fortifications of the Sunrise Gate. Traveling on horseback through the city proper of Pentos was a slow affair with the trial of having to part through the crowds and ignore all of the wandering eyes they attracted. It was a relief being able to walk his horse at an even pace without colliding into anyone.

"And make certain that I can see you at all times, you're not allowed to wander off."

Jon rolled his eyes as the guard that had joined them went on and on in a high-pitched tone about their restrictions.

"We should be careful about how long we stay out as well, maybe start heading back some time before sunset." Lyle, their unfortunate tag-along, lectured.

Jon gave Aegon a discreet wink as his charger hoofed at the ground as they were let through the Sunrise Gate. The plains of the flatlands gleamed in the afternoon sun and beckoned his spirit.

Aegon rolled his own eyes at Jon's look but nodded in agreement and patted the side of his own horse.

"Look Gon, it's Madame Nilaya!" Jon played his mummery and looked back through the gate.

"Wha? Where?!" Lyle asked in a panic as his top-heavy form swiveled with his weathered destrier to look back at the city.

"Ha!" Jon cried out, urging his horse into an eager gallop. towards the grassy expanse of the flatlands. Aegon was shortly behind on his own horse heartily pounding along. Jon laughed in mirth as Lyle sputtered and yelled in surprise and outrage.

"You get back here boys! Your father will hear about this!"

Jon ignored him as in another breath they crested over a hill and disappeared from the man's sight. Jon skillfully guided his horse away from the Sunrise Road and into the growth of the tall grasses and shrubbery. He yelled in excitement as their horses pressed forward even faster. While wielding a sword Jon felt strong but while riding atop a horse he felt alive.

He could imagine that he was flying as he stood in the stirrups. He could practically feel the exhilaration in Amber, his mount, as his hooves struck the ground and his head rhythmically swayed. Jon peeked a look at the trailing Aegon before turning back. "I feel it too boy, let's show Gon why you're the fastest horse in Pentos." Amber's ears twitched in response and they poured on the speed.

"Seven Hells Jon, slow down!" Aegon cried as he struggled to bring his own horse up to speed.

Jon was lost in the moment, the wind roaring in his ears and his eyes tearing at their velocity. Soon enough he was puffing air like a bellows and letting Amber slow down as he recognized some of the landmarks.

A shoddy firepit, a petrified log and a small stream that ran nearby made up the hideout where he and Aegon would go to scheme and get away from the bustle of the city.

Jon panted as he lead Amber to the stream and dismounted. "That was a great run boy, maybe your fastest yet." He patted down the horse's coat. Jon smiled smugly at Aegon as he caught up, his tanned skin flushed in exertion. Aegon sent a playful glare at him and dismounted his own horse.

"Did you see his face?" Jon laughed.

Aegon snorted and withdrew a covered book and his writing implements from his saddlebag. "How could I not? That man is smitten beyond hope." Such was the results of Aegon's efforts to build a rapport with the ranks of the Golden Company. Men talked and no conversations traveled as well as japes at another's expense.

Aegon ran a hand through his dyed blue wavy locks, the silver roots shining in the light. Aegon's Blackfyre blood was a secret between the captains and the captain-general of the Golden Company. Aegon himself had no intention of dividing the Golden Company by revealing his cursed line and believed wholly in Jon's dreams and ideals. Though the boy kept his given name close with an abbreviated nickname, he kept his hair dyed to draw less attention.

Jon wondered if his friend would ever be able to take pride in his name.

"I'll take care of the fire." Jon volunteered. "Are you sure about that?" Aegon asked with a smirk as he sat upon the petrified log. Jon rolled his eyes and brought out his flint and steel. Jon was absolutely terrible at starting fires without the tool and had taken to carrying it with him when they left the city.

After the firepit was glowing and stable, Jon took his seat beside Aegon. The blue-haired Blackfyre was busy looking through the messy pages of the book he had brought. The book was both a collection of plans and a fount of information on the state of the Free City of Pentos. While the conquest of the city of Pentos had been planned to death, there were many other matters to take into account. While the city of Pentos was the center of everything that went on within the principality, it wasn't in fact the entirety of the city-state. The Free City of Pentos consisted of nineteen different demesnes that were more or less ruled by magisters or rich houses that filled a similar position.

It was a troubling thought that all of the people who lived in those lands could only rely on one person for justice, protection and help in times of duress.

Those demesnes would fall under their rule one way or another. And when that time came, they would be able to institute change. Jon knew how significant it was that he had the ear of the captain-general. He had heard the talk of him being groomed as a successor. If that was true then he could act through Myles, given he had amassed enough goodwill. If not, then he was sure his father would listen to him. If Jon himself wasn't to be the next captain-general then his father was sure to be given the position. The restructuring and administration of an entire free city was a daunting task for a ten-year old boy.

Jon snuck a look at the concentrated Aegon.

But for two boys, it might be more than a dream. They had spent the last two years learning of every government and military that had existed on the face of Planetos and diving into what made them work and what made them fail. From the hereditary monarchy of Westeros to the Golden Empire of Yi-Ti. Anything that they could use in their goal to create an ideal kingdom was devoured, dissected and applied to their plans.

Jon's eyes glittered in the firelight as he grinned. "It's finally happening tomorrow Aegon. No more waiting, no more letting those magisters bathe in their wealth day in and out."

Aegon shook his head in exasperation. "Careful Jon. This isn't a game."

Jon nodded solemnly as he traced a finger over the thin silvery scar that ran from his cheek down the curve of his chin. "I know. Yet, my blood boils in anticipation even so."

Aegon smiled tiredly at his friend. "Well let's go over the plan a final time then. What did we decide on for an interim government? There needs to be someone in charge of the administration of the city while we unite the rest of the demesnes."

Jon nodded. "We considered Harry Strickland but that man has too much personal greed to do right by Pentos. I believe Vyros Vynyr of the City Guard will do well. We'll name him Interim Governor of Pentos."

Aegon nodded in assent. "Why Vyros?"

Jon motioned with his hands as he spoke. "He's capable. And he cares. He's lived in Pentos his entire life as a son of the magister Draquesso Vynyr but he's never attempted to be anything more than the commander of the guard. He personally owns no slaves, hates his father and the other magisters and is very disillusioned as to the way the city is run. He visits the slums in his spare time and donates to the homeless! I don't see how we'll be able to secure a better candidate. He has a good heart and knows the finer points of discipline and management as commander of the guard and as a son of a magister."

Aegon shrugged. "There is the fact that he might not survive when we take the city."

Jon frowned. That would make things difficult. "Where is he stationed?" Aegon paged through a separate book. "He's not, he takes tomorrow off every week. He'll be at Draquesso's manor in his private residence. If I recall correctly, that manor is one of Captain Laswell Peake's targets for the attack." Jon's frown darkened into a scowl. "That prick?"

Over the past two years the other branches of the Golden Company in Myr and Norvos had come into the fold following the orders of the Captain-General. Under Myles Toyne there were three captains, his father, Tristan Rivers of the Myrish branch and Laswell Peake of Norvos. While Tristan and his branch were particularly high in morale as they relished the idea of conquest, Laswell's contingent was markedly more sober. To most of the company's disgust Laswell's company had partaken heavily in the slave trade while in Norvos and were loath to give it up. In the meetings Laswell had been present for, it had been evident that the man was resentful being under the command of Myles. It didn't help Jon's opinion of the man that he was heavily biased against both Jon and Aegon being present at meetings.

Aegon frowned. "Unfortunately, yes. His men are hitting all of the targets near the harbor and the trade post. I highly doubt that he would leave the man alive."

Jon growled as he thought. What a troublesome situation. They couldn't convince Myles to spare the man because he might be useful when the dust settled. And there was no way Laswell would even entertain the notion of purposely sparing someone who by all rights would be fighting against them. Jon snapped his fingers. "What if we snuck in? We could go in before the attack commences and convince him to leave before Laswell even gets there."

Aegon raised his eyebrows. "How would we sneak in? They won't exactly let any child off the street into a magister's property."

Jon smiled at him mischievously. "Disguises."

"Disguises." Aegon said in a deadpan.

"Don't worry about it, I've got the perfect idea."

Aegon rolled his eyes. "Alright, so assuming that goes perfectly, how would we convince him?"

Jon shrugged. "I'll think of something." Egg sent a look of disbelief his way. Jon smirked. "I can be quite inspirational and persuasive when I need to be." Aegon snorted at his antics before turning back to the book.

"Alright, well if that's settled, say that goes as planned and he survives, what would his duties as Interim Governor be?"

Jon crossed his arms. "He would be in charge of the day to day running of the city, taking petitions from the people of Pentos, judging its lawbreakers and enforcing the laws, Filling other official positions and whatnot, building and maintaining a city guard and of course, helping the soon to be freed slaves transition into free men and women. Though in reality, the Golden Company will likely facilitate most of those as the situation evolves. Really the only thing I'm worried about is if trade stops."

If war was a fine sword then trade was the reason man picked up the blade in the free cities. Wars were treated almost as business transactions among the free cities with goals being the destruction of someone's business or the seizing of key ports and trade posts. If the routes of trade in Pentos were frozen as a result of their actions then any one of the other free cities could take umbrage and attempt to seize the city to resume its flow.

Aegon furrowed his brows. "Wasn't the trade post owned by Illyrio? Your father would be responsible for the deals he made and continuing the business he had."

Jon smiled wryly. "My father is many things but one thing he is not is a merchant. You're right though, most of the deals Illyrio had were renegotiated with my father, minus those of dubious nature. While the trade post falls under his property, the ships that pass through it do not. If the city fails to stabilize in a timely matter or the campaign among the other demesnes lasts too long, the other cities could decide we were a volatile state and a threat to their business. We'll have to find ways to encourage trade and make sure the city stays calm during the changes we make."

Jon sighed. "I can't help but think this seemed so simple two years ago."

Aegon stared at Jon with raised eyebrows. "Who was the one who wanted to create 'beneficial and lasting changes' to Pentos and knew that we would have to convince Myles with a fully thought out plan?"

Jon frowned. "I'm not sure that I like it when you quote me. It's unsettling." Aegon smirked at him. "I'll remember that too." Jon groaned to the sound of the firepit crackling at them.

Jon cracked his neck. "Do you think me mad? Or a glutton for glory or gold?" Aegon looked up at him with a frown. "No, of course not." Jon smiled sardonically. "I've made it seem like this is all for the people, for altruism. I've claimed that I've seen the worst of the world, in this city where men are not slaves but are not free. I claim to feel for the downtrodden to have sympathy. Yet can I claim to have ever gone hungry while my mother whores herself to keep me safe? Have I ever had to hold a knife to another for their coin or food? I have not, but I still believe I can win their hearts and lead them into a better future that benefits the people. No one's ever done that before."

Aegon looked at him silently.

"But that is what spurs me on." Jon grinned widely. "I won't lie and say I don't long for my name to go down in history or to be praised for what I will do. I have my pride, quiet as it is. But it is the challenge, the struggle that I anticipate. We've stagnated for so long, the same greedy magisters, the same bloodthirsty mercenaries and the same destitute smallfolk. More than anything Aegon, I crave challenge, conflict and true change. I want to break this cycle and build something better. Something that lasts. And if I can make a better life for those that follow me and for my descendants than who would gainsay me? No, I want to leave my mark on this land."

The air within the tent was heavy with tension and thick with the unpleasant smell of sweat and dirt. A low murmuring filled the tent from the officers packed into the constraining tent.

Arthur kept a blank face as Laswell scowled angrily at him from across the broad wooden table. That man was more dour and unpleasant than anyone he had ever met. From the first moment they met the other captain had resented him both for his 'quick' rise up the ranks of the Golden Company and possibly even his renown among the men. Arthur may have been feared by new recruits for his training methods but he was also respected and loved for his easy sense of camaraderie and care for those under his command. Laswell on the other hand kept his men in line with fear and punishment. Arthur had heard unsettling rumors about how the man would select a poorly performing footman at random and whip them in a daily ritual. Whether this method proved to create better warriors rather than just sate the man's sadistic streak remained to be seen.

Give a man a sword and your scorn and you will soon see that same sword in your back. Give a man a sword and your faith and they will seek to uphold that. At least, that's what Arthur knew of good men. He glanced at Laswell. Some men just weren't.

"Ullwyck, it's good to see you on this night." Ser Tristan Rivers approached him with an amicable smile. Tristan was the descendant of some riverlord's bastard and it seemed that that blood was particularly strong in the man. His red locks and blue eyes seemed to shine with an earnestness that Arthur wasn't ashamed to say that he missed. Despite the man having been born and raised in Essos his upbringing must have been particularly inclusive of Westerosi culture and lordship. The man was a breath of fresh air in the foreign peoples Arthur had grown used to treating with.

"I'm not sure I could miss it if I wanted to Tristan. The battle is almost at hand after all." Arthur grinned back at him. Tristan nodded back in acknowledgement. "I'm sure many of us would dearly miss your input in this last council before we take the city." Arthur glanced at Laswell and back to Tristan. "I'm not sure everyone would agree with your words but I thank you nonetheless."

Tristan snorted as he realized what Arthur implied. "Well, anyone that matters anyways. I'm still not sure what Myles ever saw in that godless bastard." He muttered darkly. Arthur looked over at the Captain-General, the man in the midst of a conversation with Harry Strickland. "He must have had a good reason for it. I've never known him to commit to thoughtless action."

Tristan waved his hand in the air, clearly dissatisfied with the conversation. "Well, enough of talk of such dismal subjects. I hope your son will be attending, yes? He is, after all to thank for this endeavor." The shorter man grinned. While Tristan's contingent had rather dutifully made their way to Pentos at Myles' summons, the new purpose that the Golden Company found themselves following had him and his men in a cheerful buzz. When Myles had said that the company was eager for new opportunities and fame, this is what he must have meant. The prospect of conquering land for their own was an exciting one and when they had heard that it all stemmed from Arthur's young son there had been even more of an uproar. Jon had become a bit of a fascination for the newcomers and each one had been impressed by him when they visited their attentions on the boy.

Tristan had been one to describe Jon as having an unnatural talent at befriending any man with a sword in his hand or ambition in his heart. Arthur had since become used to Jon's gift and privately joked to himself that the boy was blessed by the Father or the Warrior.

"Aye, he should be here soon. The boys wily escaped their chaperone but they know the importance of tonight." Arthur smirked. He had been less than surprised when a red-faced Lyle had come to him and angrily explained how his charges had escaped him. The uptight man's infatuation with Pentos' most lauded lady of the night was well known and used to mercilessly tease the man at many occasions.

Tristan laughed. "Children will be children, I suppose." Arthur rather doubted that the young man knew what it was to raise a child, much less one like Jon but smiled all the same at the adage.

"Captain-General. For how long will we play with our thumbs? Are we not here to discuss our plans for tomorrow once more?" Laswell thumped a fist on the table in frustration.

Myles scowled at the man. "Aye, that we are Captain Peake. And we will have time for that yet but for the moment, we will wait for Jon and Gon to arrive."

If anything Laswell grew even more intense as he leaned over the table and glared at any man who looked at him. "Are we such simple fools that we would wait to discuss war with children?!"

Tristan scoffed at the man. "You have a talent for raiding and pillaging Laswell, not war. You're more of a fool than I thought you were if you think it is your intellect we have faith in." Laswell reddened and clenched his fists from across the table. "Say that where I can-"

Lysono Maar laughed mockingly from his lazily tilted chair. "Boys boys, I'm smarter than both of you and I say we wait for Jon and Gon."

Arthur eyed the spymaster with unease. Despite their close association over the years Arthur had found he could never quite trust the other man. Though he supposed that while Lysono's close association with Aegon did seem strange it seemed to give the boy direction where Arthur hadn't.

"Quiet down the lot of you! You're all but suckling babes in my eyes. Lysono shape up! We're planning for conquest, not for a trip to the market." Myles Toyne looked the image of the weathered warrior with his drawn brows and age lines. Though the man was a veteran among veterans, his spirit was bright and indomitable, never ceasing in his work the past two years. He had been spending more time mingling with the men than in the past and the warrior's fervor and pride were matched only by the discipline Myles struck within them.

Arthur's eyes were drawn to the entrance of the tent as the cloth flapped. "Jon, finally deigned to attend I see?"

Jon grinned shamelessly as he dragged a dripping wet Aegon in after him. "We got distracted." He chirped as the boys took their place beside him.

Aegon sullenly glared at Jon before turning to Arthur. "Your son is a menace." The Kingsguard shook his head in exasperation as he smiled tiredly. They truly were boys at heart.

"Jon!" Myles said angrily. "You're late." Jon bowed his head in apology as he sobered. "Yes Ser, we apologize, it was harder than we thought to find the right tent given that the sun has since set."

Myles stared at him for a moment before huffing and turning away. "It hardly matters anyhow. Well then brothers, now it begins."

The occupants of the tent turned their full attention to the Captain-General who unfurled a lengthy hand drawn map of Pentos. "There are five primary targets during this assault. The Sunrise Gate, the Spicer Towers, the harbor, the magister's manses throughout the city and the Prince's Palace."

Myles looked to Tristan. "Captain Rivers, the Sunrise Gate and the Spicer Towers are your responsibilities, your contingent will face the most combat by my estimation. We know there are only about one thousand men on the walls mostly bonded servants and poorly trained smallfolk. Nevertheless, you will take two thousand and five hundred men to take the walls. Additionally I want you to take Serjeant Balaq and some of his best archers with you. If things start looking chaotic in the city then I want my best eyes on the towers. Finally, offer surrenders where you are able but do not take unnecessary risks. Your battle should be clean and decisive."

Tristan nodded grimly at the Captain-General before looking over at Black Balaq. "I'll be counting on you and your boys to watch over us Serjeant." The dark-skinned Summer Islander revealed his rows of gold teeth. "Like taking fruit from a night stalker. Don't worry captain, we'll make sure you keep your heads."

Myles looked over the map again. "Here's where command will be split further so pay attention. Captain Ullwyck your duties are more nebulous. You will be given command of four thousand and five hundred men to both take the harbor and keep the peace. When word of the battle reaches the city some will likely think to run. Your men will secure each dock and the ships along with them. Until the city is ours, no ships are to dock or leave. Keeping the peace will be the harder task. I want you to send men to the Temple of Pentos and inform those with the hearts of the people to urge the smallfolk to stay calm and in their homes. In addition, your men will patrol the city to prevent looting and riots."

Arthur nodded dutifully. "Yes Captain-General."

Myles looked around the table meaningfully. "If I hear of any looting or violence against the smallfolk without cause, there will be a reckoning." The serjeants nodded back to the older man, vowing to heed his words.

"As for you Captain Peake," He looked at Laswell seriously. "Your responsibility will be to take each and every manse that belongs to a magister and rid the city of their filth. You'll be given a thousand men divided at your discretion for this task. Servants and slaves are not to be harmed and surrenders will be accepted from the guards but the magisters must all die."

The captain grinned darkly with horribly discolored teeth. "Aye. The fat fucks won't escape the night alive." Arthur eyed the other captain and saw then why Myles kept Laslow as a captain.

Myles nodded. "Good. As for the Prince's Palace, I will be taking a force of 500 men to the palace myself to lead the offense and the remaining number of men shall tend to camp. We will move out before sunset to get into position and the conquest of Pentos will begin on the morrow at nightfall. When your tasks are complete, send a runner to the palace. If any complications arise, send a runner and defer to your captains. I trust that was simple enough for you empty-headed fools?"

The officers grinned at each other as they nodded and assented to his plans. As the men began to file out, Arthur approached Myles. "Are you sure about this? There will be no turning back once this has been done."

Myles eyed Arthur strongly. "So you can question your Captain-General but you're not able to change the mind of your own boy?"

Arthur grimaced. "I only-"

Myles laughed at the stricken man. "It's fine Ullwyck. While this is unprecedented of the Golden Company, I have faith that this will lead us into something great. the men have faith. In your son and his vision."

Arthur nodded. "While I am glad he has grown through all of this, I can't help but think that I will lose the boy after tomorrow." He said darkly as he thought to the promise he made Myles.

The Captain-General shrugged. "He is strong, intelligent and good-hearted. You couldn't have done a better job raising him. That said, if we lose the boy, the man will make us proud of him nonetheless."

Arthur grinned at the older man. "You almost sound as if you were a wise elder. Are you sure you're up to the task of leading the charge into the Prince's Palace?" Myles scowled up at him. "I'm old but I'm not that old. You keep talking like that and I might take the Prince's Palace before you board your first galley." Arthur laughed at his jest, his humor echoing throughout the empty tent.

Jon frowned unhappily as he hung yet another damp lump of garments on a clothesline.

His father had been less than pleased with Aegon and his ditching of the guard and of their late arrival to the meeting. Jon's quick wits seemed to be ineffective against his father to his disappointment and the boy had been punished with chores for the morning. Compounding to Jon's dismay, Aegon got to walk free because his father said he had lessons with Lysono. Life was unfair.

The boy sighed as he stretched out a wet blouse. The garden was a beautiful place with its neatly trimmed bushes and manicured roses. Yet he couldn't help but feel torn about the sight. Nostalgic memories of his mother's warm hands encircling his and the scent of fresh dirt-the tinkling sound of her laughter as he picked weeds out of his hair.

"What's wrong Jon? You look the part of a wilted flower."

Some small measure of joy filled Jon as he smiled at Lucy's familiar odd humor.

"I despise these trivial tasks Lucy, they bore me." Jon wasn't opposed to menial work, his father had given him work befitting a squire for some time now. Yet the lack of stimulation was a grave loss in his mind.

He shook his thoughts from his head and looked at Lucy.

Lucy had grown as he had in the two years since they had met. Though not in the manner of men. Where he had met a slip of a girl of only ten and three she now seemed a young woman at ten and five. Her long blonde locks and amber eyes were only accentuated by the way the beauty of her body grew. Though Jon was too young to think on the matter in depth, he did think she was distractingly pretty.

"Oh that's terrible Jon... I never get bored when sewing. I always switch hands to make it more difficult. I tried my feet once but it was too hard." Lucy pouted as she raised her feet from the ground.

Jon grinned and then laughed as the chair she was seated in tilted back and fell. He helped Lucy to her feet as she calmly straightened her hair.

"Oh dear." She said quietly as she patted down her dress. "I can't quite find my needle, Jon do you see it anywhere?"

Jon suppressed a smirk as he reached out and plucked it from her hair. "Be careful there, Lucy. You wouldn't want to poke a hole in your head by accident." The blonde accepted the needle and smiled warmly at him. "Oh, I'm sure I would have been fine. I already have one, maybe if I had another it wouldn't feel so lonely." A wandering finger tapped against her lip.

A carefree laugh slipped from Jon. Lucy was the most unique person he had ever met. Despite everything that must have happened to her before they met, she was kind and had so much life to her it almost hurt to look. While he loved spending time with his father, Aegon or even Myles, Lucy always had a way of making him feel at ease and relaxed. It was as if any ills of the mind weren't able to touch her.

A strange thought passed through his head. "Lucy, this is sudden but do you believe in any gods? I've not seen you pray before but I know that you know of the Seven."

Lucy smiled softly at him. "Why, I believe in all of the gods Jon. The Seven, R'hllor, the Mother Rhoyne. Though if you ask what gods I pray to, I pray mostly to the gods of Lys, the Weeping Lady, Pantera, and my favorite Yndros of the Twilight."

"Can I ask why you believe in all of them? That seems like you would be breaking some kind of rule or tenet." Jon frowned lightly. A delicate finger tapped on Lucy's lip as she thought. "If the gods all like me then they shouldn't mind." Jon hummed in response before his face warmed. "Um why do you pray to the Lysene gods? I've heard that only whores and lovers pray to them besides the Lysene."

Lucy's eyes sparkled as she looked at him. "When I was a slave, my master called me a whore. Afterwards, one of the other servants taught me about her gods and the very first day after I prayed to them I was rescued by a young man." Lucy smiled at him.

"Oh."

"I've prayed to them ever since. I'm still waiting for them to bless the love I hold in my heart." Her stare weighed on Jon as he averted his eyes.

"Uh-Well I think I should be going now, Aeg-I mean Gon might need my help with his studies." Jon gulped in trepidation at the strange look in her eyes before a thought struck him. "Actually, before I go, could you do me a favor?"

Jon distracted himself with exploring one of the many bazaars of Pentos, looking over the merchant's wares.

While he did actually need to speak with Aegon before the attack commenced, the day was early yet.

The markets of Pentos were rowdy and vibrant places in every sort of way. Spices, perfumes and the scent of cooked meat filled the air, customers with forked beards haggled with gold laden merchants. It was chaos within a thin veneer order and never boring. He loved it.

You could practically find anything in the selling streets of Pentos.

"You want how much for those?!"

Jon's attention was drawn to a nearby stall decorated with golden fixtures, casks of sweet-smelling wine and a set of cages on the counter. Specifically, his eyes centered on a young man a few years older than himself with long black hair and dark eyes. His accent in Low Valyrian placed him as a foreigner from Braavos. The stranger seemed neither poor or rich with fine but well attended to clothing and a smith's hammer with a peculiarly large head looped to his belt.

"Hmmph. I suppose that will have to do." The young man scowled angrily as he dug through a coin purse.

Jon found his feet moving as he eyed the display of items. "Hold friend, least you conduct business with a fraud."

The Braavosi's midnight black hair swished through the air as he turned to Jon with curious eyes. "A fraud you say?" He asked, looking darkly back to the merchant.

The man reddened with frustration as his forked beard pointed at Jon. "Begone wretch, my wares are more genuine than any other in this market could claim." He hissed at the boy. Jon raised an eyebrow as he placed a hand on his sheathed dagger. "So if I bought one of your cups and then tested its metal with my blade, it would be gold throughout?"

The merchant gnashed his teeth as he possessively slid the set of gold chalices towards himself. "You wouldn't be able to afford these boy." Jon smirked viciously as he looked back at the crowded square. "So it wouldn't be a problem if the good and discerning peoples of Pentos heard my concerns?" Jon sucked in a breath as if to yell.

"No!" The merchant hissed as sweat dripped down his brow. "Cocky little shit, quiet down. What do you want?" He asked nervously. Jon closed his mouth into a smirk once more as he got closer. Merchants like these were just as common as legitimate ones in Pentos. Their businesses lived and died on their reputation and quality of their wares. If Jon had decided to expose the merchant for his fake items there was a good chance his stall would've been torn apart and taken by wroth citizens.

Jon hummed to himself as he looked over the stall. There wasn't anything he particularly wanted or needed that he could purchase from this man. A mischievous part of him was tempted to simply go through with it anyway but he wasn't cruel by nature.

Jon's thought process was interrupted by a series of chirps that broke through the sound of the crowded market. His eyes were drawn to a particular rattling cage on the merchant's table. A small furred creature with a pointed snout, large eyes and a long tail clutched feebly at the thin bars of the cage. Jon grew closer as he examined the strange animal with silver-white fur and amethyst eyes. He had never seen or heard of such an animal before. It even had hands with five fingers! Its coat practically glimmered in the sunlight and contrasted beautifully with its dark snout and appendages.

"What is that?" Jon asked as he held out a hand to the side of the cage absently.

The merchant seemed almost perplexed as the animal softly chittered and pressed its hands up again Jon's own. "That beast's a little Valyrian from the Forest of Qohor. They're named for their coats and eyes of course but that particular one has been a curse for my business. She bites any hand that comes near her."

Jon laughed unexpectedly as the little Valyrian's fur tickled his hand. "Maybe you just didn't have the right hand." Even the Braavosi seemed taken aback by how swiftly Jon's mood had turned.

"I'll take her." Jon said resolutely. He couldn't not have her for himself. Those shining lilac eyes were mesmerizing and he'd be a simpleton if he couldn't see the intelligence in them.

The merchant sighed and unlocked the cage with reluctance. "Fine, now off with you brat."

Jon's smile widened as the animal practically leapt out of the cage and climbed his body as if it was a tree. She settled on his shoulder and seemed content to sit upon it. As Jon made to walk away she screeched loud enough to make his ears ring and jumped from him.

His heart sank at the action as he thought she would disappear. Inexplicably the little valyrian had returned to the table, huddling close to a cage adjacent to her previous dwelling.

A little valyrian with similar coloring looked at her curiously from inside its cage.

Jon looked at the merchant with a determined glint in his eye.

Jon grinned with glee as the small animals seemed to talk to him in each ear as he walked past the market. He had never seen himself as being one who adored animals or pets but for some reason he couldn't not take the both of them. They were so very unique and that plucked some chord in Jon that he didn't recognize.

Jon had thought swiftly of names to give them but it wasn't a hard task. He had always possessed a knack for creativity. He named the first little Valyrian Baela for Baela Targaryen and it seemed fitting as she appeared to be the more active of the two. The second little Valyrian couldn't be named anything other than Rhaena for Baela's younger twin sister.

One would think it would be hard to tell the two of them apart but they had their differences. Baela had a small streak of dark fur that colored the lower right portion of her snout and where she was loud and ever mobile, Rhaena seemed content to curl up and quietly chirp back at her.

He wasn't entirely sure what the two of them ate or if they were trained but they seemed remarkably well-behaved if they weren't.

"Excuse me, you with the monkeys!" Jon stopped and turned as he was addressed by the Braavosi customer pacing towards him.

"Can I help you?"

The Braavosi simply smiled as he caught up with him and shook his head. "I think you've helped me enough, you saved me from being cheated of good coin at the market."

Jon carefully shook his head as the little Valyrians gripped at his clothing. "Well I can't say that it was entirely altruistic. I have a certain disdain for greedy and opportunistic merchants."

The Braavosi grinned down at him. "Nevertheless, it was a good deed and I wouldn't be Tomo of the Hundred Isles if I didn't pay you back somehow. Perhaps a meal?"

Jon opened his mouth to politely refuse as suddenly his stomach betrayed him. In his forgetfulness, his swift escape from the manse earlier in the day had deprived him of a proper meal.

Jon's cheeks reddened. "I would be glad to, my name is Jon." Tomo laughed in response. "I'm afraid that I've only arrived in Pentos proper today. I'm unfamiliar with the people and customs here."

Jon grinned up at him. "Leave it to me Tomo, I know the city like no one else." He boasted.

Jon lead Tomo down the winding streets of Pentos, keeping an eye on the man. He seemed a straightforward and honest sort but he was a stranger nonetheless.

"You say you come from the hundred isles? What is Braavos like? I've never been anywhere except for Pentos." Jon excitedly asked. It wasn't everyday that he had the fortune to encounter a traveler from another of the Free Cities.

Tomo's expression grew thoughtful as he reminisced. "The islands of Braavos are both large and small, flat and rugged but every isle is connected through bridges and barges. It is much more spacious and open when compared to Pentos."

Tomo paused as he purchased a handful of skewered meats from a stall Jon had stopped at. Jon's mouth watered at the honey coated roasted duck even as the little Valyrians upon his shoulders poked their heads up.

Jon accepted two of the sticks with eager hands. Immediately Baela clambered over his body and hung close to his forearm to stare pleadingly at him and the food. Jon plucked a cube of steaming duck from a skewer and offered it to her. "Ipradagon Baela." As Jon did the same for Rhaena he could feel Tomo's gaze on him.

"You know the language of Old Valyria?"

Jon shrugged in a noncommittal manner. "Only enough to recite from my favorite histories. Now please, continue, I can tell you hold a dear love for your Braavos."

Tomo nodded proudly as they began walking aimlessly beside each other. "The people of Braavos number more than you Pentoshi do but it would not seem like it if you visited the isles. It is rare to see Braavosi in large crowds outside of the markets and festivals. We are a proud and hard working people. We greatly love song, dance and the arts. Beyond that, we are a romantic people who value our courtiers and bravos above all."

As Jon nodded along he could see Tomo's figure animate along with his words as a passion took ahold of him.

"You see, we believe that love is the sharpest blade, one that pierces the heart in a fashion unlike any other, where a sword might fail, love conquers all but where love finds no hold, one picks up a sword to live, to love. Our bravos live to fight and fight to love." Tomo proudly finished.

"Were you a bravo?" Jon asked curiously as he fed the rest of his skewer to the little valyrians.

Tomo sobered unexpectedly as he nodded. "Yes. And no. It is complicated. A bravo must have love in him when he picks up a sword, lest the only heart he pierces will be his own. I was worse than a bravo with no love in him. While I recall my time as a bravo with fondness, it is something that has come to shame me. Until my wrong is made right, I am beholden to my oath." Jon's eyes glided to the hammer attached to the man's belt that Tomo's hand drifted to.

"Your oath?"

The Braavosi hummed to himself. "It is inconsequential. Nevertheless, part of my task here in Pentos is to treat with a certain magister within this city. I was searching for a customary gift for the man when you rescued my coin and pride."

Concern rose in Jon for this kind and proud Braavosi. "You wouldn't be treating with the magister today would you?"

Tomo nodded, a pearly white smile gracing his tanned face. "I will have to hurry if I am to find a proper treasure to greet him with."

Jon swallowed. "If I help you obtain a suitable gift, will you do me a favor?"

Tomo tilted his head at the boy. "If you would do this for me then, yes within reason I would complete what you wish for me to do."

Jon took a calming breath as the little valyrians seemed to pat his neck and ears. "You must finish with your business before sunset."

"I suppose this would be possible. But I must ask why? This seems like a strange thing to ask of a foreigner and in return for such a favor." Tomo's brows furrowed down at Jon.

Jon looked down and away, a solemn expression adorning his face. "I cannot speak of this. Yet you have been kind and honest with me to sate my curiosity so." The Braavosi narrowed his eyes at Jon before a friendly smile crossed his face. "I will have to agree with you on this. It would not do to overstay my welcome with the magister in any case. They are not a pleasant sort."

Jon laughed companionably. "That they are not."

Aegon Blackfyre let out a breath of exertion as he threw a dagger with great velocity and accuracy at a still wooden target mounted on the wall. A rare smile graced his face as the blade pierced close to the center of the mark. "What are you smiling at boy? Surely you have not forgotten how you've abused my knives in the past by striking the wall with your terrible aim." Lysono said sardonically from behind him, the thin form of the rogue reclined in a wooden chair with a tome before him.

Aegon kept silent as his smile morphed into a frown and he withdrew another blade from the bandolier to throw. If Aegon knew he would have been doing this sort of thing two years ago he would have been baffled. His "apprenticeship' under Lysono was a strange one indeed. The man had been a curiosity that Aegon was determined to unravel ever since he met the man. Who was this slight and brazen man who walked silently and commanded such respect from the Golden Company? The man's inclinations went against everything he was taught about knights and story-told honor. The man espoused to be a spymaster, one who acquires information at any ends. When Aegon expressed interest in what capacity he acted in, Lysono showed him. By sweet-talking a merchant, assassinating his son, and then blackmailing the same merchant into giving up all his coin, all to prove a point. Aegon was horrified and transfixed by the things he saw at the man's side. It eased Aegon's conscience greatly that Lysono explained that the man was was a vile sort, using his goods to draw in unsuspecting citizens and then taking everything they owned, often selling the vicitims themselves into slavery. When a serjeant of the Golden Company had been robbed by the man, it was Lysono's purview to act. Aegon wasn't sure what he was getting into when he asked the man to teach him but it seemed as if the opportunity was fortuitous.

Jon was his brother in all but blood and the other boy had won Aegon's faith and devotion all those moons ago when he helped a boy bandage a self-inflicted wound. If Jon was to make his dream a reality someday, he would need to have the realm's best spymaster at his side. He wished to be the one to hold Jon's secrets, to protect him from dangers unseen. Let the Blackfyre name die with Maelys. He had no interest in taking Westeros unless it was in Jon's name.

And so he began his apprenticeship with Lysono. While Jon learned at his own inhuman pace by picking and choosing what subjects to learn, Aegon learned at the knee of one of the most deadly men in Essos. History and its fallacies. The weakness of man and manipulation. The act of deception in all of its art forms. Building webs of contacts to gain information. How to kill as easily as one could breathe. All of those and more Lysono seemed almost eager to teach him. It should have been strange and unusual that a boy would want to learn how to change the world around him with a handful of words. Yet Lysono seemed eager to teach him all of those and more.

Aegon had his own theories of course. Jon and the Captain-General. He and the spymaster. They were being groomed to take the same positions in the Golden Company. Clearly, none of the adults had any idea of the scope of Jon's plans.

"Since my lovely student seems to be lost in that head of his again, clearly, I, as your teacher need to increase the challenge." Lysono spoke up with a grin in his voice as Aegon flinched at his closeness.

Lysono appeared to be almost a child sometimes. He took no small amount of joy from spooking Aegon at any opportunity. It was frustrating, annoying and humbling that two years into his education and he still couldn't even tell when the man was right behind him.

"If I were aiming to kill someone, say a well protected official or merchant, how would I go about doing so?" Aegon frowned as he continued his exercise. "Poison."

Lysono rolled his eyes. "Obviously. Be specific boy, put some effort into it."

Aegon scowled as his dagger skewered the edge of the target. "Would I have access to his food or home?"

"He uses servants to test his food and his property is impenetrable by guile."

Aegon grunted with another throw. "There's no such thing as impenetrable." Lysono shrugged at his own words being parroted back at him "And the world doesn't play by our rules. For all intents and purposes, it is impenetrable. Continue."

"I would disguise myself as a merchant or noble seeking to meet him and poison him when we meet."

"How?"

"The grasp of rot." Aegon snarled as he slung his last dagger into the target, piercing dead center in the wood.

Lysono nodded in agreement. "An excellent choice, but do you know how to create such a poison? Explain it to me as if I were you two years ago."

Aegon huffed as he walked forwards to claim the thrown daggers. "The grasp of rot has its origins in Leng where men would risk death regularly if only to understand the art of herbology. To construct the poison requires exact measurements of rosary peas, white snakeroot, rosebay and nightshade. It is imperative to mix the ingredients with the lethal venom of various insects." Aegon frowned at the scars in the target as he sheathed the last of the daggers. There was a great many marks around the edge of the target and only a few near the center. He would need to improve.

"The substance is then poured into a vase of sand and mixed until it seeps into it entirely. Once the mix is right, the poisoner must choose what hand is to be the weapon and to repeatedly jab that hand into the poison sand. The hand must be cleansed every 84 breaths during the day and every 108 breaths during the night with a comprehensive antidote. The poisoner must do this final step for 5 days and nights." Aegon set his feet and began to throw once more. Lysono clapped mockingly. "So you can learn after all. So you have constructed the grasp of rot, what is the next step?"

Aegon rolled his neck as he withdrew a blade. "Meet him and shake his hand. Then leave."

"And what about your hand that's as bloated as a rotten sweet potato?"

"Soak it in the antidote for six days as I avoid attention."

"And what do you and Jon have planned for the assault tonight?"

The knife slipped from Aegon's hand embedding in the wall beside the target with a deafening thunk.

"Nothing." The blue-haired boy said as he painstakingly kept his face blank.

Aegon flinched as a flickering blade darted above his shoulder and landed dead center in the target.

Lysono's tone was frustratingly calm as he stepped beside Aegon, the two of them standing by each other. "Do you know who I am Aegon?"

Aegon refused to react and stared forward at nothing.

"That's fine, I know you do. But let me take the opportunity to remind you."

"I'll skip the inglorious circumstances of my childhood, needless to say, not everyone is born with a famous name. I was in a desperate place where I had nothing but schemes, jealousy and hate to keep me alive. Indeed, I wanted a certain man to suffer so much that I endeavored to live to spite him even when I wanted to die. I was found, for better or worse by an old man with too many things to say. He showed me much and taught me more. After I learned all he could give me, I killed him."

Aegon kept his expression guarded. The first time he had heard this story he had been horrified and refused to go near Lysono for a week. He still possessed a rather healthy fear of his mentor but now it was tempered by respect and some measure of understanding. Lysono was not a good man. He was not a kind man. He was not even a just man. But he succeeded in any goal he set before himself when the world was against him. Aegon might not be willing to stain his soul as black as Lysono's was but he was willing to learn what it required to walk that path.

What is the worth of your morals in the face of the expediency of your goals?

"I utilized the craft he taught me to build myself a stranglehold over Lys. I had eyes and ears in every house and court of import and controlled the richest courtesans to a degree that they couldn't leave their homes without me giving them permission. Yet I wasn't called the Blight of Lys because of my spies or control over the city. But because of those who dared cross me. Fear was my weapon of choice and I bled my enemies deeply." Lysono squeezed Aegon's shoulder. "They died by the score in the throes of sickness and disease and none of them escaped my grasp. When I left Lys, I did so knowing that none would ever grasp the city as I had."

"So tell me, Aegon. What has convinced you so that you believe you can deceive me?"

Aegon felt a shiver run down his spine. "Nothing."

Lysono let go of his bruising grip on Aegon, stepping away. "And yet you did so. Honestly Aegon, it's like you don't trust me." Aegon strained to keep a straight face. Lysono smirked and tousled Aegon's blue hair.

Aegon sighed. While he did trust Lysono to keep Jon and himself relatively safe, it was up in the air if the man would keep them from enacting out their risky scheme. Then again, it wouldn't be terribly tragic if they were forced to stay aside during the battle. Jon would be safe and he was sure that that the other boy wouldn't blame him for Lysono ferreting out the information.

"There's a man in the city we need to keep alive. It's not escaped our notice that Captain-General Toyne hasn't noticeable spoken about any plans for the city after we take it. We've made our own designs. And part of it includes a man that would otherwise be killed by certain parties. We plan to to keep him alive. We're going to-"

"Alright."

Aegon felt his neck crack as he whipped towards him. "What?"

Lysono smirked. "I said alright. I don't need to know anything else."

Aegon's brow twitched. "Aren't you going to tell me it's dangerous and idiotic? That we could get hurt or worse? That we should have come to the adults with our concerns?"

Lysono gave a mocking look. "Well, you just said it yourself so it's not as if I needed to. If you need to do something then do it. If you're worried about it being idiotic then go about it smarter, if you think you might get hurt then make certain you won't be in danger. As long as you take responsibility for your actions then, Myles won't care. Ullwyck will but that's because he's a mother hen."

Aegon frowned. "Oh, okay. I think I get it."

"I'd hope so." Lysono began to walk away. "Oh and stop wildly looking about when you lie. It's about as obvious as throwing a knife into my wall. Oh wait, you did that too." He deadpanned.

Aegon blushed.

"Egg?! Where are you?!" Jon's voice rang through the hall as he wandered through Lysono's surprisingly modest home.

"In here!"

The little valyrians chittered nervously as Aegon's raised voice shouted back.

"Don't worry girls, you'll both love Egg, Just wink those pretty eyes at him and he'll love you forever." Jon said with a note of levity.

Lysono's workshop was an unholy mixture of components from herbariums, laboratories, smithies, and libraries. Tables and counters chock full of strewn pages and open tomes, topped with strange devices and ceramic jars. Bookshelves lined the walls with oak cabinets filled with baskets of medicinal ingredients and exotic plants. An imposing fireplace was set into the wall with sharp metal implements mounted beside it and empty cages piled at its floor.

"Over here Jon." Aegon spoke tiredly as one would when carrying a heavy burden. As Jon approached, it was clearly evident why.

"What does your slave driver have you doing now?" Jon asked curiously as he gazed on the veritable tower of books piled at his friend's desk.

Aegon groaned, his face buried in a book. "Not even slaves are forced to fabricate an index for every plant mentioned in a library ordered by utility and rarity."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Do you know how many books on fucking plants that bastard has? I do." Aegon growled vindictively.

"How many?" Jon asked nervously. It was quite rare to see Aegon so worked up. He was the more level-headed of the pair of them.

"Nine. Hundred. And. Fifty. Fucking. Seven."

"...That's a lot of books." Jon noted helpfully.

"So many fucking books." Aegon groaned. "About a third of them I can't even read without another fucking book to translate them and half of them are so old the authors probably still thought the moon was a blasted dragon egg. Seven knows how many of them are even partially accurate. If I have to read another outdated account about plants magically growing because of the sun I'm going to burn every last fucking book in this house."

"Ooh."

Aegon sat up and smiled deviously. "First the books. Then Lysono. And then every maester with a lead or silver link on their neck."

"Okay! Break time! Come meet my girls!" Jon snatched up a fretting Rhaena and deposited her in Aegon's lap.

Blue-haired boy and little valyrian both froze staring at each other.

"Jon? What the fuck is this and why does it have my eyes?" Aegon asked indignantly with a pointed finger at the primate.

Jon rolled his eyes and pet Baela as she shifted into his arms happily. "It, is a she. And she is Rhaena, she's a little valyrian."

Rhaena seemed to get over some of her fear slapping at the finger with a diminuitive hand and glaring up at Aegon.

"And how do you know that you don't have her eyes? Maybe your lot was born from these lovely darlings." Jon suppressed a smirk as Rhaena appeared to chirp with an air of superiority.

Aegon sputtered as the small animal clambered up to perch on his shoulder. "Wha-How?"

Rhaena turned to Jon and squeaked curiously.

Jon smiled back at her. "I'm sorry Rhaena, he's usually much more polite than this."

Aegon sighed and picked up the little valyrian carefully. "I give up." He cautiously carded fingers through Rhaena's fur causing her to lean into his contentedly. "How did you get them?"

Jon shrugged. "Blackmail."

Aegon blinked. "Blackmail."

Jon scratched Rhaena under her chin. "Just a bit."

"Okay, that's- okay. So, you're keeping them then?" Aegon asked.

Jon nodded. "Of course I am, how could I not? I suppose I could lend you Rhaena every now and then."

Aegon shook his head exasperatingly. "That's not what I- Whatever. Do you know how to take care of them? Is Ullwyck okay with it?"

"Well, Father won't mind as long as I take responsibility for them. As for taking care of them..." His gaze wandered to the tower of books that was Aegon's doom.

"Got any books on little valyrians?"

Aegon glared at him before sighing. "Probably. I saw a book on Lengii howlers a bit ago. I'll find it at some point. Now, what did you really come here for?"

Jon smiled widely. "I've figured out our plan for tonight."

Aegon pinched at his nose. "Please, enlighten me."

"Well, I passed by Magister Vynyr's property on my way here and I decided to give it a look."

Aegon stared aghast at him "You sneaked into his manse in broad daylight?"

"What?!" Jon's eyes widened. "No! No, I'm not that shortsighted. I just walked around a bit outside of it, got the lay of the land so to speak."

Aegon sighed in relief.

"I'm hurt by that, truly." Jon placed a hand on his breast in mock distress.

Aegon rolled his eyes. "Continue."

"There's a servant's entrance. It opens up into the kitchens and I believe that leads to Vyros' private residence." Jon explained guilessly.

"I thought you said you didn't sneak in?!"

"I didn't! I just kind of walked in, there was no one in surprisingly. I thought about just exploring until someone threw me out but I thought that might be too far considering we're going to sneak in later. Don't want to be recognized and all that."

Aegon closed his eyes and Rhaena patted him on the head consolingly.

"You are impossible."

"You flatterer you."

"Not a compliment."

Jon shrugged. "To you maybe."

Aegon massaged his temples. "So forgetting about all of that reckless idiocy, what makes you think Vyros' lives in anywhere close to the servant's quarters? It's usually the opposite in my experience."

Jon grinned. "Just a bit of guesswork but think about it. Vyros and Draquesso don't have a good relationship, they probably never did. My personal theory is that Draquesso has Vyros raised by servants because he's a busy merchant but doesn't think of servants as anything other than slaves, because well magisters never do and then Draquesso wants Vyros to follow in his footsteps, keep up the family business and all but Vyros knows that his father is nothing but a disgusting waste of slaving filth and so does everything in his power to not be his father. Vyros wants to leave but doesn't know anything other than Pentos so he stays. He'd move elsewhere in the city but I'm sure it would be some sort of mark on Draquesso's pride as a magister if his son lives in the same city but in a different property, as if he couldn't afford to take care of him for example. So Vyros has to stay but he wants to avoid Draquesso at all times so he lives exactly where Draquesso would never go. On the other side of the servant's quarters."

Aegon looked at him with an unreadable light in his eyes. "All that from a kitchen?"

Jon shrugged. "Additionally, he could've just been raised there from the beginning but I like my version better. Besides, he's not the only person I know who's ashamed to have a magister as a father." He looked at Aegon apologetically.

Aegon grit his teeth before shaking his head. "It's alright, your plan?"

Jon smiled slyly. "I've procured disguises for tonight. We'll enter through the servant's quarters and as long as we're quick, make it to Vyros' quarters before anyone notices. We talk to Vyros, get him to help us get out and call it a night. Simple."

Aegon hummed, thinking it over. "It's definitely simple. It could use polishing and certainly plans to fall back on if things go wrong but there aren't a lot of moving parts to keep track of."

Jon nodded. "Exactly my thoughts. I suppose I'll take my leave now. I'll let you get back to your books. Rhaena, come here."

Aegon was surprised to see the little valyrian curled up on his desk deep in sleep.

"Huh, I guess she tired herself out with all of the excitement earlier." Jon said to himself Baela seemingly shrugging on his shoulder.

Aegon trailed a finger over her soft fur gently. "I'll watch her for you. She'll remind me to find that book on little valyrians before I leave."

Jon smiled down at him and started walking to leave. "She'll be in your care then." He stepped out of sight of the door.

Aegon hummed softly at the adorable creature. "I wonder if your sibling stresses you out as well. I bet she does. If only I could sleep that off as well."

Jon suddenly poked his head into room causing Aegon to blink in surprise. "Oh, and make sure to look prettier than usual tonight, it's part of the plan."

Aegon's brain fuzzed. Pretty?

A dawning sense of horror fell over him. "Jon, what kind of disguises did you procure?"

Jon just grinned and winked before leaving.

"Jon?!"

"Jon, could I have a word with you before you leave?" Lysono's oddly serious tone took Jon aback as he retraced his steps out of the house but he responded amiably.

"Of course, Ser." He entered the room that the man's voice came from.

Lysono's private workstation was as night as the workshop was day. A neat desk, ordered bookshelves and pinned navigational charts lined the room in an ordered manner that served to throw Jon off.

"I couldn't exactly be efficient if I didn't keep things in order Jon. And you and I both know I'm no Ser. Lysono is fine as you well know." The spymaster smirked at his desk putting away some scrolls in a drawer.

Jon was on the back foot this time as he sat. "I didn't mean to- I know-" He coughed nervously. "If this room is like this, then why is your workshop so..."

"Disorganized? Cluttered? Chaotic? It's a mess I know. I just don't care. I stopped using that workshop some time ago." He revealed plainly.

Jon nodded unsteadily. He didn't often talk with Lysono. He knew the man put his father ill at ease and that he was regarded with fear and respect with the Golden Company but didn't know the man personally. He couldn't claim to know all of the reasons why Aegon chose to learn under the man but he knew the spymaster was the principle reason why the two boys were able to plan anything for the future of the Golden Company. He just came off the wrong way for whatever reason.

The man seemed to display contradicting personalities at times and always knew the right words to say in any situation. Not in any kind of emphatic manner like his father or the Captain-General but logically he knew how to shut down arguments immediately and cut someone down to their knees with a few choice words.

He didn't seem to be contentious by nature or overly-amiable either to be perfectly honest. He always acted like a decent sort though.

Acted.

Maybe that was it. He acted like he ought to instead of just being. Jon didn't have anything he could concretely point to to base his feelings off of but Lysono acted like a person as if he wasn't one.

It was unnerving.

"Then why have Aegon organize it? He seemed... frustrated to say the least." Jon curled his hands around Baela as she stared distrustfully at Lysono.

The spymaster ignored the little valyrian as he grinned at the boy and winked. "Don't tell him, but when he finishes it's going to be his workshop. It's a bit of a surprise."

"Oh." There was a moment of silence as the two looked at each other.

"You don't much like me do you Jon?" Lysono asked with a smile.

Jon's eyes widened. "No- It's not that I dislike you, I-"

"It's a feeling, not quite a thought. I know. That's good. Faces lie, words lie, even gestures lie. Always trust that instinct. Not everyone has it." The spymaster frowned minutely. "Aegon's not quite there but I'm sure he will be, in time."

If Jon felt unnerved before, now he felt goosebumps rise along his flesh. "That's- thank you?"

Lysono folded his arms and his eyes seemed to pierce into the boy. "Now, I for one would like to know how you mean to change Pentos. You've requested quite the sum of information on Pentos and it's inhabitants through Aegon and I'd like to know what my resources are being used for. What do you want to change?"

Jon cringed. To be fair, he and Aegon had requested truly expansive wealth of information in the past from the man. It would be odd if the man hadn't picked up on anything.

"Everything." Jon sighed. "Pentos wasn't always filled with complacency and slavery. It was founded as trade post, a waypoint and port of rest between the northern cities and anything south of it. But when Tyrosh, Lys, Myr and the other cities gave birth to rich magisters, someone had the bright idea to come here and follow suit. It's become such a foundation here that they've held onto it even after Braavos crushed them into the ground. No one is free from it, Lysono, we're the exception."

"Functionally, all of Pentos is owned in one fashion or another by the magisters. They own the ports, the properties, the guard, and most importantly, the people. You come to Pentos to start a new life, you have to be ready to pay an exorbitant price for their property otherwise, you buy it on a loan and are indebted to a magister. You need money so you learn a trade even while your debt piles up. Except, you have no money so even after you learn a trade you need to borrow more for materials and a stall or workshop. Eventually you get used to working without rest and living on meager portions of food. You fall in love, you marry someone who lives here and now you're not paying off one debt but two. You think you might be able to make some headway on it with two of you but it just keeps piling up as time goes on and then you have a child. And you know that all of your debt will fall on them when you're gone yet you can't make enough even if you work until your bones turned to dust. It's taken you decades to realize how fucked you are but at that point it's too late. Your child has to go out and work as a servant because you need the money and they're too young to learn anything else. And the cycle just continues and grows until your family's been slaves for generations and they don't know anything else."

Lysono shrugged. "It provides order. Slavery makes sure that the chaff know where their place are. They're different. Inferior."

Jon grit his teeth. "Well I refuse to accept that. Your lot in life shouldn't-isn't decided by whose cunt you were pushed out of. Everyone deserves opportunity. To live a life worth living. People's lives shouldn't be used as stepping stones in order to fill your pockets. The only thing the magisters have done to this city is drag it down and feed from it like parasites. Their ambitions start and end with how much gold they can put in their coffers before they keel over and someone else takes their place. Imagine, if you will a city, full of people with dreams and the opportunity to chase them. Pentos would have better architects, artists, craftsmen, healers, musicians, even leaders. All they would need is the will to see their visions through."

Lysono smiled. "Sounds like Braavos."

Jon frowned. "Even Braavos has magisters. Don't misconstrue my words, Braavos is the greatest Free City just by the merit of actually being free. But they still have their Drowned Town. To have progress you need to provide opportunities for people to chase their dreams, to become what they want."

Lysono blinked at him. "You mean to teach them how to read. As in, all of them."

Jon grinned eagerly. "Among other things."

Lysono laughed boisterously, hand clutching the desk as he shook. "You're mad. I guess that answers that question." He wiped away a tear as Jon scowled. "But I will say that it'll be interesting to see either way."

Jon crossed his arms with a determined look in his eyes. "I'll remember this day and I reserve the right to laugh in your face."

"We shall see."

"Lucy? Are you in here?" Jon asked as he pulled along a wary Aegon.

"Oh, who are these two? New friends of yours?" Lucy asked curiously. Rhaena and Baela had forgone their usual mounts and were currently exploring her room with curiosity.

Jon smiled. "That one's Rhaena." He pointed to the little valyrian peeking out from underneath her bed. "And that one's Baela." He motioned to the other primate rummaging through a basket of clothing.

"Sorry about that, they're not quite trained."

Lucy laughed lightly. "That's quite alright, they're quite adorable."

Aegon coughed delicately. "This is nice but we are on a time limit Jon."

Lucy made a face of surprise. "Oh, that's right you two wanted to play dress up! I've got them right here." She walked over to the basket Baela was rooting through. "Excuse me dear."

Aegon blanched and turned to Jon. "Dress up?"

The other boy just shrugged. "Well I didn't tell her everything."

"Here we are!"

To Aegon's horror, Lucy held at arm's length two roughly made dresses in dulled colors.

"Jon." He squeaked inelegantly.

"Oh don't make a fuss. Look, you can be the blonde okay?"

"The what?"

Jon affixed a wig complete with long wavy nut-brown dyed hair. "Just don't think about it too much, we'll be out of these within two hours."

Aegon's eye twitched. "Seven help me."

A few minutes later the two wore their complete disguises, dresses, hair and even cosmetics worked to craft the image of two young servants in service to a magister.

"I'm going to burn these after we're done."

"Egg don't be ungrateful." Jon chided as he adjusted his faux-hair. How did girls deal with all of this all the time?

Lucy held Jon as she rested her chin on his shoulder and held up a hand mirror. "Jon, you are a beautiful girl."

Jon's cheeks reddened and his eyes darted away. "Thanks, I think."

Lucy nodded resolutely as her eyes stared at his face in the vanity. "If I were a man, I would ravish you."

Aegon shot Jon a concerned look as he blushed even harder and fidgeted. "Alright, well on that note, we really should be going." He tugged Jon away as he spoke. "We'll leave Rhaena and Baela with you, they won't fuss much but if they get hungry you should be able to feed them fruit."

Lucy grinned and waved as they went out the door. "Don't worry, we'll be fine. You two just have fun at your tea party!"

Aegon scowled as he dragged Jon out of the manse. "Tea party?!" He accused vehemently. "What in the seven hells did you tell her?"

Jon snapped back as his cheeks burned. "Okay, not my best work I'll admit but you know Lucy will believe anything. Besides, it doesn't matter as long as we get this over and done with, no one will ever know."

Translations-

Ipradagon- eat

A Wanderer's Guide to Pentos

By Jassin Ydrich 'The World Eater'

Introduction

I have always believed and professed that no place is like another. Every step you take is unique and belongs solely to you.

That being said, the city of Pentos calls to mind many of the other Free Cities.

Pentos is the city of colors.

Red for Volantis and it's faith and slavery.

Green for the dyes they've adopted from Tyrosh and the trades they've grown to love.

Blue for Braavos and their shared reverence for song and not so shared love for freedom.

Yellow for every imitated art Pentos crafts in an attempt to rival Myr.

Pink for every daughter of Lys purchased to serve in Pentos.

Brown Oak wood from Qohor has no equal but they sell a similar quality in Pentos that hails from their southern regions.

White for Lorath and their whalers, of which not a few make Pentos their oyster.

And finally Gold for every khalasar in the last few centuries that have reached Norvos and turned away in exchange for exorbitant gifts and cool hard coin. Pentos was but the first city to take this custom for their own.

This is not to say that Pentos possesses no culture of their own or unique customs that carry their spirit. Pentos cannot claim to be the strongest, biggest or even richest Free City. But if nothing else, Pentos adapts.

Author's Note:

Arthur Dayne is going by Ullwyck and the only people who know who he is are Myles Toyne and Lysono Maar

Aegon Blackfyre is going by Gon and the only people who know who he is are Jon, Arthur, Myles and Lysono. The rest of the company simply think he's Illyrio's son who Arthur took pity on. Exposing him as a Blackfyre at this point would not be good at this point because they've only just started to think beyond their original purpose.

Also please comment any errors that you see, I'd love to see some feedback as well on some of the worldbuilding I'm trying to start here. Let me know what you like and what you don't like, I definitely want to see this story get big and get better at writing as I go on.