Dunk

"I know where your squire is," The Crystal Knight had told him.

Dunk would later regret it, blaming himself for foolishly following her. It was clear that she was suspicious from the beginning. The knight's constant refusal to take off her helmet, the Fiddler's reaction from seeing her, Maynard Plumm's mysterious disappearance… but all of those were not enough to discourage him.

The Crystal Knight was a short, slim woman, clad in dark armour with only a blue sword on green as her sigil. Of course, none of them— save for Blackfyre's conspirators— knew that she was a woman. And as much as Dunk had witnessed her with a lance, he could not have known her true power.

"Ser Duncan, I respect you and the kind of person you are," she had led him away from the crowd before saying, "So I'll be honest with you. You and young Aegon are two obstacles I must get rid of."

"You're—"

She removed her helmet and long, silver hair flew out, violet eyes coldly staring into Dunk's face. A sword appeared in her gloved hands, shining brightly in green and blue. "I'm Calla Blackfyre. I will give you one chance. Defeat me here, and we will let your squire go."

"He's still alive?" This was all a trap, Dunk could sense it, yet he had to know that he didn't lead Egg to his death because he overlooked every sign.

Calla nodded, her eyes still locked deadly on Dunk's. "We don't kill children… and he is more useful to us alive than dead." Without the helmet, her voice was soft and high-pitched, suitable for a girl her age… but it was also incredibly cold, cooler than ice.

There was no way around it. If Dunk turned around and ran, Calla would skewer him with her sword. But just as Dunk ground his teeth and prepared to fight, Calla sighed and said a word, "Light."

Then Dunk saw nothing.

When Dunk regained consciousness again, the battle was over. Whitewalls burned, Prince Maekar dead— those were the details he only learned later.

For months Dunk did not know why he was kept alive. All he did was travel, without knowing the destination, while being tied up and blindfolded most of the time. All he heard was bits of incomplete information.

It was not until they arrived at King's Landing that Dunk knew the full extent of the Second Blackfyre Rebellion.

"The false dragons are doomed now," In a small room they brought Dunk to, Calla Blackfyre concluded, her tone as cold as ever, "As my brother— King Aenys commanded, the survivors would be given the gift of mercy. Men to the Night's Watch, women to the Faith… and I want you to escort them to the Wall. Of course, the payment will be good."

Dunk was stunned. News circulated in his head, each daring to take his attention then replaced by another one. House Targaryen was overthrown. Prince Maekar and Bloodraven were killed by the woman in front of him. King Aerys signed the peace treaty denouncing his own family. Egg survived, but he was forced to be a Black Brother…

"Why me?" Dunk had to ask. He was Dunk the lunk, a nobody, an insignificant man in the fight in between two types of dragon. Yet he was not slain after his defeat at Calla's hands, and she offered him a job… likely knowing where his loyalties lay.

Upon hearing his question, the corners of Calla's mouth drew up. "You are a great knight, ser. Better than most that bear this title. I know of your potential and what you could do if given the right chance. If you're willing to stay under our employment, I'll see that you rise as high as possible."

"Will I get to see my squire?"

"Of course. Him and all the false dragons. All I need is for you to accompany them… I remember that you and he were planning to visit the north, correct? You would get a chance to complete your journey, then come back here, where you grew up. I'll have another job for you, or you can take your payment and leave. Not a bad deal now is it?"

A chill rose inside Dunk. His plan with Egg, his origin. The Blackfyres had put the effort into researching his background. All for… what? For him to be a guard for the Targaryens?

...No, there was also the "another job" she mentioned.

"You seem to have some… misunderstanding about us Blackfyres," Calla said after seeing Dunk's hesitation, "I know how your mentor fought for the Reds in the last war. With this and your close ties to little Aegon, I could see why you would be inclined to think worse of us. But we, unlike those who once called themselves Targaryens, aren't built on murders of children. My brothers." There was a wave of raw anger in her voice during those last few words.

Dunk did not condone the murder of children more than Calla. But… "It is war. Children died on both sides, royal or not, when they were put on the battlefield." Dunk remembered Ser Arlan's story, how his nephew was killed on the Redgrass Field. A boy of Dunk's age. The pain of Ser Arlan was no less raw than Calla's rage.

Yet Calla only sneered. "My eldest brothers died on a battlefield, yes, but my youngest brothers were killed by cowardly assassins, and my mother too. Who ordered the assassination, I wonder? Who paid the gold, who approved? Who celebrated the loss of two more Blackfyres and lamented that they failed to kill all of us?"

She glared at Dunk, "Yet we are inclined towards mercy. Everyone who kneeled has been spared. For this was our Father's legacy— a man who was as fierce and honourable as the Warrior. We don't kill innocents, unlike Bloodraven."

But Dunk had heard enough stories about the war to know this was false. "War made everyone brutal. Daemon Blackfyre might have been an honourable man, but that would not stop his men from killing and looting innocents."

Calla's eyes narrowed. "War is war, you aren't wrong. Many lives were lost to right a wrong… I would always keep that in mind. How many have died for me to be here," She placed a hand on her chest, "how lucky it's for my heart to keep beating."

Her gaze wavered for a moment, "Remember your friend at Whitewalls, Ser Glendon Ball? We promised him a white cloak," she sighed sadly, "but he died protecting my brother. Afterward, I sent people out to find his sister. Poor girl… she took up the same profession as her mother." She gritted her teeth, "We gave her gold, shelter, and a job. We tried to care for those loyal to us as much as possible, fulfilling the promises we made. I'm sure you remember Ser Eustace Osgrey of Standfast… and his wife."

Lady Rohanne. Webbers supported the Reds in the first rebellion… Coldmoat was promised to House Osgrey for their support for the Blacks… Dunk raised his voice, "Lady Rohanne— she—"

Calla snorted. "She's safe in her castle. As they have formed a marriage alliance themselves, there is no need for us to intervene. Still, my brother had given his words that he will see to their needs if any future problem arises. And from them… I received their… recommendation for you."

"Recommendation?"

Calla pulled out a letter and read it to him.

"Ser Duncan." Egg's eyes were thoughtful as he stretched his head, where his sliver-white hair had started to grow back. It was pointless to shave now. "Will you go back to King's Landing after this?"

They were close to the Wall now, after leaving Winterfell. Once they arrived, they would never see each other again. Yet Dunk felt that the boy was avoiding him, most of the time, and they had barely spoken. Dunk sighed, "I have to if I want to receive the gold."

"Then what? Blackfyre…" Egg gritted his teeth, his foot stomping on the ground heavily in frustration. "...We lost to them… to Calla Blackfyre's trickery and sorcery. You know what she did, ser."

Dunk knew then. In Whitewalls, Calla had lured Prince Maekar and half of his army into a trap using the drugged Aegon as bait, before lighting them on fire.

"It's claimed that she jumped from the top of the castle after lighting the fire with her sword… with you in arms…" Dunk stopped himself. Stupid, he blamed himself, there is no need to remind him.

But Egg nodded, continuing with a pained voice, "I was on the milk of the poppy, but the shock of landing shook me awake. The first thing I saw was Blackfyre's green armour and her blue sword, shining and otherworldly. Then I heard Father calling me. He was at the top of the castle… burning… falling. The fire engulfed him… Blackfyre covered my eyes, said that she didn't mean for me to see that. When she released me, all that remained was… charred bones…"

Although his voice shook, his eyes red, Egg did not shed a tear. Dunk extended a hand to squeeze his shoulder. "You're strong, lad. Your father…" It was just empty comforting words, yet Dunk did not know what else to say, "...would be proud."

But Egg shook his head. "We lost… because we were there. Because I was there. The only way I could repent is to serve at the Night's Watch. I talked to Aemon and he agreed that this is—"

"—Don't speak like your little agreement means anything, cousin." The youngest of the Targaryens approached them, his expression dark and eyes blazing with fury. "They took my mother and sisters and exiled us to die in the cold, claiming it to be mercy. We aren't bound to serve and die on the Wall."

"Aelor." Egg turned to the younger boy with sorrow on his face. "We have talked about this. I can't do this. Ser Duncan is my friend."

Friend. Dunk felt that there was something wrong with this conversation. "What are you talking about?"

The two Targaryens stared at each other, Egg's gaze begging and Aelor's triumphant. Finally, Aelor snorted, "Friend. Ser Duncan, tell me, would you let us go if Aegon asked you to?"

Oh. That. That was why Egg was reluctant to speak to him. "There are other guards…" Dunk paused. This was only an excuse. Dunk was taller and stronger. He could have aimed at their weakest moment and overpowered them, then set the Targaryens free…

He had imagined it quite a few times. He could have done it.

The question was, why didn't he do it? Was he waiting for Egg himself to ask him, as Aelor suggested?

Or…

"You're only going to get us killed, Aelor," Egg warned, frowning, "Even if we manage to escape, the whole north will be searching for us. Do you want us to all freeze to death in this cold? And Ser Duncan is unrelated to this, leave him alone."

"You called him your friend. He isn't unrelated. And the north stayed neutral in the usurper's war, they were no more loyal to them than to us. The only thing we need to do is find a ship and sail to where lords loyal to us pray for our return." Aelor gritted his teeth, "Aegon. I used to respect you. Why are you such a coward now?"

"We can't win against Blackfyre and her sword! You haven't seen it. You haven't… heard it," Egg gulped, his fingers pulling his hair, "After Father died, what remained of his army tried to save me. Calla Blackfyre held me in one arm and cut them all down with another, until all the bravest warriors laid dead on the ground. That woman is a monster, she could destroy an army by herself. There's no hope for us. No hope…"

Dunk was stunned. He did not know much pain Egg was in. As Egg's knees gave in, Dunk caught his arm to stop him from falling into the snow. "Pull yourself together, Egg…" Dunk whispered, patting Egg's back lightly.

Aelor looked down on them with half regret and half contempt. "My words might be too strong, too harsh… but…" He turned his eyes on Dunk, "Please. My father won't last long on the Wall. Help us. Let us go. I won't stir up any trouble for you, ser. I will just find somewhere to hide, nobody will know. Nobody will find out…"

But if Dunk did that he could not return to King's Landing. The content of Rohanne's letter flashed in his mind. "I'm sorry… I can't help you."

"That's the right thing to do…" Egg said, barely managed to stand back up by himself.

Aelor clenched his fists. "Then you're my enemy. As for you, Aegon… don't get into my way, or I'll be forced to deal with you too."

When Aelor left them, Egg glared at his back for a moment, but then sighed, "He's still a child."

Dunk almost laughed, "You're a child too."

A pain flashed over Egg's features. "No, I'm not." He wiped the snow away from his clothes. "I'm no longer a child. Please, Ser Duncan… live your life full and well," he whispered, "for me as well."

"I will," Dunk promised. What else could he do for Egg? "I will."

"You stayed loyal to us," Calla Blackfyre smiled approvingly, a smile that didn't reflect on Dunk's face. Dunk felt dirty. He could not have done anything… but he wanted to.

"They will be treated well at the Wall," noticing his distress, Calla sighed, "Long since before House Targaryen arrived in Westeros, the Night's Watch is the destination of defeated kings and lords. This is no different. Your friend can still live out a meaningful life there, maybe even rising to the station of Lord Commander."

"I know," Dunk forced himself to say, not looking at the Blackfyre Princess in her eyes.

Calla nodded. "Good." She pointed to a large bag of gold dragons lying unceremoniously on a table. "Here's your gold… are you ready for your second assignment? It'll be… longer, but I think you will find it more suited to your taste. Oh, and I suppose you will want to know how Ser Eustace and Lady Webber are doing first."

"Are there any changes in their situation?"

"Ser Osgrey is still barely clinging to life, it would seem," Calla said, "Lady Webber worried for you. She will be happy to know that you come back safely. I'll write to her… or you can too if you want."

...My husband fell down the stairs one day and never woke up. He might not be long for this world. I struggle to hold Standfast in his name, and my cousins aim to take Coldmoat from me. If the crown could send help, I would be grateful, Princess Calla.

...Ser Duncan is indeed a dear friend of mine. If he could be given a House and land… then I won't hesitate to marry him after my husband inevitably passes away…

Dunk fought against himself to put the vision of Rohanne's face away. "What is this second assignment?"

"My sister has recently married… to one Aerion Brightflame, now received the right to call himself a Blackfyre," Calla sighed, the youthful features of her face shifting uncomfortably. "Against our wishes, I must add. But it was done, and they already had a daughter together. What I want you to do… is to be his personal guard."

Aerion Brightflame. Disgust rose in Dunk's throat. No offer of gold or land could make Dunk guard that man. "I can't. I won't. He—"

"I understand why you would want to refuse." Calla crossed her arms, frowning, "I know what he had done. But he claimed that he has changed, and my sister is in love with him. I don't trust him. You'll become his personal guard in name only, but what I want you to do is to stop him if you see any violent behaviour. I will make it clear to him that he doesn't have the right to order you around. All I want from you… is for you to protect innocents from Aerion."

Dunk paused. When she phrased it that way… "Is he not a prince?"

Calla shook her head, "We won't give him that title, even if he is my sister's consort. He isn't allowed to carry weapons with him, either. He is, frankly, a glorified hostage in the Red Keep." She raised her fingers one by one until it stopped at seven. "Seven years. That is your term. If Aerion manages seven years without lashing out once… Well, then I'm wrong about him, and he really had changed. But I doubt it will happen."

"And by then…"

"I'll give you everything you need to marry Lady Webber. Ser Osgrey ought to be dead by then." Calla put down her hands and pointed to the bag of gold again, "Or you can take the bag of gold and leave. I won't stop you. What do you say?"

Two faces flashed in Dunk's mind. Egg's, and Rohanne's.

"Please, Ser Duncan… live your life full and well," Egg whispered, "for me as well."

...I won't hesitate to marry him after my husband inevitably passes away…

"I will take your offer, princess," Dunk found himself saying.