Chapter 5 – A Bowl of Brown

Daenerys

The sun was still rising as the small party entered Flea Bottom. Everywhere they passed they drew looks, perhaps because the hustle and bustle of the day was only in its infancy, perhaps because they were unlike any other group that made its way into the chronically poverty-stricken parts of the city.

Craftsmen, peddlers, shop keepers, guards, children – many stopped what they were doing to gaze upon what surely must be important people, given the dozen determined-looking guards with the red three-headed dragon proudly displayed on their black surcoats, with leather-gloved hands gripping hilts tightly.

The guards held little interest to most onlookers, perhaps save for the small boys and young men who still dreamed of leading different lives than what was on offer in the slums of King's Landing. A fierce-looking black destrier, who looked ready to trample anyone in its way under its iron-clad hooves, drew more looks. Yet further attention was paid to its rider.

Astride the great warhorse a proud knight's shining silver armor reflected the rays of a sun that was still shaking off its slumber. The long white cloak and constantly searching eyes signaled extreme violence, barely held back, but ready to be unleashed in an instant if any should pose a threat to his charge.

Yet, it was the lone young woman at the center of the party who drew the most looks. She wore a blue sleeveless dress, the like of which only the daughters and wives of the highborn could conceivably afford, and was mounted on a white mare of the finest breeding, with white gloved hands casually holding the reins.

What truly set her apart however was her long silver hair; falling softly down her shoulders and back, and the kind violet eyes that unflinchingly took in the sight of the small folk; neither their filthy rags nor their nakedness could make her avert her eyes.

The silent onlookers might be forgiven if they mistook her for the Maiden herself; descended down from on high, deep into the depths of human misery. Yet she was something else, neither beholden to Gods nor men, but a descendant of the ancient Valyrian dragonlords.

As they slowly rode deeper into Flea Bottom the scenery changed for the worse. Down through narrow winding streets they rode, where the horses' hooves at times sank deep into the muck. Dany took it all in, but refused to let it affect her. It was hardly the first time she had borne witness to the squalor far too many of the Royal subjects lived in.

In the beginning it had touched her deeply; as if scales had fallen from her eyes. All she had ever known was the safety and splendor of the Red Keep, of Dragonstone and the newly rebuilt Summerhall – all testaments to the glorious reign of the sole remaining dragonlords.

Some dragonlords we are now, she mused. Yet the immense skulls proudly on display in the throne room of the Red Keep, bore eternal and undisputable witness to their once unrivaled power.

But what troubled the princess was not the lack of dragons, for them to once again reign supreme. This past year she had been confronted with the horrors of abject poverty. What weighed heavily on her mind was that for all the Targaryen might, they still could not do much but treat the worst symptoms of it.

It was not that they lacked the will to do something about the situation of their most unfortunate subjects. Dany had fought tooth and nail with the Master of Coin for a greater distribution of food, beyond what she had managed with her soup kitchens and orphanage. But Lord Gyles Rosby had claimed that such funding was not available, and furthermore, if it had been, there were surely far greater priorities than distributing food to useless small folk.

Dany had pleaded with him, telling him heart-wrenching stories of children hardly anything to eat. He had not been moved by the words of a thirteen year old girl, princess or not. She had screamed at him, calling him a heartless oaf who should hope to never fall on such hard times himself, since the Gods on that day would surely close their ears to his cries. He had not been amused and Dany had later been reprimanded by the Lord Hand for her blatant lack of respect.

However, it was probably telling Jon Connington to do them all a favor and throw himself into Blackwater Bay that Dany regretted the most. Her brother Rhaegar had not been amused at her behavior and she had been locked inside the royal apartments for an entire week. It had been most satisfying though. Pompous prick, she thought disdainfully. Yes, Flea Bottom had definitely taken a toll on her language, as her mother so often lamented.

It was still not as satisfying as when she had brought a bowl of standard Flea Bottom fare to the Small Council. It had taken some convincing and subtle threats, but the Kingsguard had not dared to lay hands on her to prevent her from barging in. She had carried the small bowl herself and had slammed it down on the large table where they all were congregated.

She had lifted the lid and revealed its contents to the honored members of the Small Council. Their collective gagging had been worth it all by itself. "This is what is known as a Bowl of Brown, my lords," she said as she pointed at the disgusting stew, trying to keep the bile from rising in her own throat. Bits of something were floating around, and were in her eyes indistinguishable from the muck that her horse currently stepped in. "You, who will not help the poor, I dare you to eat their food!"

The cowards had unfortunately not risen to the occasion, however much she had wanted to bear witness to such a thing. Their outrage had not even abated when she informed them that this was all little Olida of six years had to eat today.

Rhaegar's own initial anger had slowly turned into astonished pride. He later confessed in private that he had never realized what he was about to unleash on King's Landing when he gave her the task.

On the King's orders, funding had been increased, but while she could provide more and better food for her soup kitchens and orphanage, the needs far outweighed the means. She still fought with Lord Rosby over every copper, but despite her many small victories, it was as if nothing had changed.

After half an hour's ride they finally arrived at a small house, where barefoot children ran around outside. The stench from the muck was not as bad here, but it was still present. As much as King's Landing had benefitted from Rhaegar's sewage system, not every street and alley had been cleaned up. Old habits die hard, even though throwing human waste on the streets were punished when caught in the act by Lord Jon Arryn's Goldcloaks.

With a deep breath she dismounted and put her feet down on the dirty ground. She pitied the servants who had to clean her riding boots after each of her frequent excursions to the city. The children had now begun to notice her and the oldest, a girl, gave her a large smile.

"Princess!" she shouted as she ran to greet her. She had dirty dark hair that was divided into two braids, a brown dress full of patches. Olida was still one of Dany's favorites though and it broke her heart that there was so little she could do for her. "Come Olida!" she responded and held out her arms to receive the little girl. The other children followed closely behind, but more hesitantly.

"Did you bring sweets, Princess?" Olida asked hopefully. She always made sure to bring some, so she quickly motioned for a guardsman to bring her a large bag with tightly wrapped cakes. After a moment's fiddling she had it open and began to distribute honey and plum cakes, as sweet as can be.

She watched as the children gobbled up the cakes and when more children joined, she made sure they each received their fair share and that none left empty-handed. One thing bothered her however, but it took her a while to figure out what it was.

"Olida, where is Calla?" she asked the happily eating girl. Calla was one of the oldest girls, and Dany guessed she was about twelve or thirteen, but most of the children did not really know how old they were.

Her question caused Olida to look down, as if she was unwilling to speak of it.

"Why isn't she here, Olida?" she asked again. "She always loved the cakes."

"I don't know," the girl finally said. "Man came and took Calla with him."

"What man, Olida? Who was that man? And where did she go?"

"I don't know, Princess!" There were tears in Olida's eyes now.

One of the boys who had listened to their conversation spoke up, "He said there was work, he did. Said she would eat, and sleep in a soft bed."

Gods be good, Dany thought as her eyes began to tear up. She had tried to tell them so many times that these promises were worth nothing, that the girls would earn their food on their backs and the only soft beds they would see would be shared with different men every night. But the temptation often proved too great. And what could she offer them instead but mere words?

She had seen it too many times before and she was just as helpless each time. Once she had tracked a girl down, but could not persuade her from staying. Other times the girls had all but disappeared. Her good-sister Lya had been the one to first explain what it meant, and why so many girls – and boys – ended up in the pleasure houses. It was a hard life that awaited them there, but hardship was all these children had ever known.

It was as frustrating as it was heart-breaking.

After a while she left the children and went to see the ever grateful Matron. There were always things that needed seeing to and Dany tried to grant what help she could. But besides better food, clothes and sandals, the list of things she could offer was short. Oh there was the occasional repair she could pay a craftsman for, but between her budget and the orphanages she ran, money was tight. "May the Maiden keep you safe, my Princess," the Matron blessed her upon departure.

It was when they passed by a seedy looking tavern, with all the tell-signs of also being a pleasure house, that Dany got an idea. And she knew exactly in whom she might find an ally.

Rhaegar

With a deep sigh Rhaegar leaned back in his chair as he contemplated the mess of the last few days. He had unwittingly unleashed a dragon on his Small Council, whose split had made some members almost unwilling to speak to one another. All because of the city's many brothels.

Somehow his sweet little Dany had gained an ally in Lord Arryn in her quest to shut down the pleasure houses. When the honorable Master of Laws had brought his proposal before the Small Council he had caused apoplexy; with Lord Rosby almost bursting a vein by the looks of it. The brothels were indeed a good source of income for the treasury.

The Spider had quietly mentioned how the brothels were great sources of information, as men grew careless in the heat of the moment and often wanted to impress even the whores. Jon Arryn had quickly retorted that there was little of value that could be learned from such pillow-talk, and that he was curious how many boys and girls should be sacrificed to men's lechery in order to supply such crucial information. Lord Arryn had never been one to hide his disdain for such dishonor.

"However many is necessary for the Realm to be kept safe", Varys replied, seemingly unbothered by the notion. Sometimes Rhaegar wondered what really motivated the Spider. Was it truly just the happiness of the many?

Then his Hand Jon Connington had argued that if men were not allowed to satisfy their urges lawfully, there would be riots and the rapes of innocent women would undoubtedly increase.

"The City Watch will keep the King's peace, my Lord Hand," was Lord Arryn's cold reply. He seemed to view it as an affront that his ability to maintain order was being questioned.

"It would ruin trade in King's Landing, no ships will want to anchor here," Monford Velaryon protested in a worried voice. Lord Monford had replaced Lucerys as Master of Ships, as the latter had been far too loyal to Rhaegar's father. Still, the Velaryons were not easily set aside. "It would ruin us!"

Neither Grand Maester Marwyn nor Lord Commander Barristan seemed to have anything to add. Rhaegar knew that the former often frequented brothels himself, while the latter turned a blind eye to his Kingsguards' own visits.

He sighed again and got up on his feet as he started to pace around his solar. In his heart he truly agreed with his sister, he didn't like brothels and never frequented them himself, but sometimes you had to live in the world as it was, not as it should be. Now he just had to tell Dany that her latest assault on his Small Council had failed. He doubted she would be pleased.

A knock on the door and Ser Arthur stuck his head in with an amused smile. "Princess Daenerys is here, your Grace. She brought company though, your lady wife."

Suddenly wary, he nodded to Arthur to let them both in. He wondered what she had cooked up now. Her persistence when she set her mind to something was truly impressive.

"Brother," Dany's cheerful voice greeted him as she followed Lya into the room.

"Dear husband," his Queen said as she gave him a quick peck on the lips. She radiated displeasure, but it did not detract from her stunning beauty. Still, this was not going to be good. "We heard that you had an interesting discussion in the Small Council today."

"Yes," he replied. "It's curious how word of the topics in our secret meetings spread so quickly," he added sourly.

"Indeed brother," Dany agreed undeterred. "But we happened across a bird who sang us a most curious song, or how is it the Spider usually puts it?"

"I wasn't aware that you had spent any time at all with Varys."

"I usually don't, but one cannot help but overhear some things if one's ears are kept open."

He studied her for a moment. In only a year his beautiful sister had gone from a little girl to this young and confident woman in front of him, one who would not back down from a fight with the most powerful men of the realm. She was already taking part of the game, but for her own purposes.

This time however Lyanna spoke up again, "Rhaegar… I have tried to broach the subject of the brothels with you for many years. They prey on weak and that is something I cannot abide."

"I know, dear," he began as he steeled himself for a lengthy argument, "but it is most unwise to forbid brothels no matter my own feelings about them. The members of the Small Council raised valid concerns with such a move."

"Because they themselves can hardly spend a night in their own beds!" Dany exploded.

"That's enough, Dany." She needed to rein in her emotions.

"So therefore we have to accept the idea of twelve and thirteen year old girls and boys being abused by the unscrupulous and the greedy? Rhaegar, Dany and I have known some of these children. All they want is a warm bed and enough to eat."

He knew his wife wouldn't let it go this time. And from there it became a matter of haggling. No, the brothels would not be shut down. Yes, stricter age restrictions would be enforced by the City Watch. No, the Crown would not run these establishments in its own name. Yes, taxation on brothels would increase to make it less lucrative and the money would go directly to Dany's budget for the soup kitchens and orphanage.

Exhausted he found himself alone in his solar again. Oddly enough he felt invigorated by the debate, and the outcome did not trouble him as some of his other decisions could do. Between Lyanna and Dany he was not going to get away with doing nothing. Being a King was all fine and good, but keeping his own household at peace was not any less important.

He had a feeling that if Rhaenys and Jae had been here, they too would have sided with Lya and Dany. His eldest daughter was still visiting her mother in Dorne. He received word from her regularly, but missed her all the same. Rhaegar felt a pang of remorse at the thought of Elia. He could never love her, not like he loved Lya, but he had tried to do right by her.

It could not be helped that he had to take a second wife, but it had nevertheless shamed Elia in front of the entire realm. Relations with her brothers remained frosty, though thankfully they treated Jae right. They both felt that Rhaenys should have been the heir, but he knew that he needed a male heir. The prophecy made it of paramount importance.

There was a soft knock on the door. He looked up to see Arthur letting himself in. "How did it go? Rather good I take it? I heard less shouting than I expected" Arthur smiled in amusement.

Rhaegar shrugged, "You know how Lya is, Arthur. She's a wolf. Once she snaps her jaws shut on you, she never lets go."

Arthur laughed at that. "Ah, but it would be as unseemly of me to agree to that as it would be to disagree with my King."

Rhaegar raised an eyebrow at that. He didn't believe one word. Arthur had never refrained from teasing him or his family. He was a brother to Rhaegar and allowed far more freedom to speak his mind than anyone else.

"So have you made beggars of all the whores of King's Landing then?" Arthur asked.

He hadn't. It took him a moment to explain what had been agreed upon though.

Arthur burst out laughing. "I'm impressed. You will score some points with the Faith too by the way." Now that had not occurred to anyone, but it was a reasonable assumption.

Sometime later their conversation turned to other matters. "Any news from the North?" Arthur asked.

The image of his son and heir flickered through his mind. "Yes, Jae wrote that he landed his first hit on Ser Jaime," Rhaegar answered proudly. That was no small feat for someone as young as he. "Though he added that it was barely a touch and so far not repeated."

Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise. "And what of the Stark boy? Robb?"

"From what I can tell they are as thick as thieves. In his letters it is always 'Robb this', 'Robb that'. I know that Jae always wanted a brother and now I think he has found one." Rhaegar added, feeling once again quite pleased with his decision to send Jae north, regardless of how much he missed him.

"That's good. It may prove a good thing to have the Starks to rely on. And with them come the Tullys." Arthur gave voice once again to a discussion they had shared many times over a cup of wine. The realm seemed at peace, but Rhaegar knew that their position was not as strong as it seemed. They always needed to shore up alliances.

His own succession had been fraught with danger; the threat of rebellion hung over his head when he finally rid the realm of his father's madness. A familiar pang of regret made itself known at the thoughts of his father. He wasn't always mad, he thought. Once he had loved me.

His father had arrogantly taken Tywin's heir from him, which fuelled resentment of the Iron Throne. It was not soon forgotten, but Rhaegar had no intention of relinquishing Jaime back to Tywin. His presence assured them of quiet relations with the Westerlands.

Assigning Jaime to Jae had been a stroke of unintended genius. He never knew it would lead to the kind of bond they now appeared to share, but it assured him of Jaime's, and therefore the Lannisters', continued loyalty. Jaime was also still relatively young and needed more than to merely guard the Red Keep.

"And what of this business with the direwolves? If you allow your son to bring this Ghost back it will further alienate some of those who believe he is more wolf than dragon. Winter was forced to stay in Winterfell despite your lady wife's pleas."

Rhaegar sighed at that. That was still a sore point in an otherwise happy marriage. He knew that Lya dreamed of Winter almost every night. She would tell him in the most vivid detail how Winter had given birth to a large litter, before word reached them from Winterfell. Sometimes she would reassure him that Jae was truly happy with his kin in the North, that she could see him smiling and laughing more than he ever did at King's Landing.

"I haven't reached a decision on it yet. Perhaps Ghost will be Jae's eyes in the North, maybe he needs to come south with him to provide additional protection. The beast will grow up to be the size of a pony. Not a single knight would take on such a beast lightly."

He did not know how Lyanna was so certain about what she saw, but far too often her dreams had proved startlingly accurate. The Starks had a connection to their wolves that reminded him of what he read about wargs. Now that was a thought he only gave voice to in front of Arthur. Wargs had a bad reputation in the North, while in the South few had even heard of them.

Still, to Rhaegar it was further evidence that it had been a great decision to mix his line with that of the ancient Kings of Winter. Ice and fire indeed.It made him wonder if such ability could transfer over to the Targaryen bonds with their dragons. Given how well the Starks controlled their ferocious beasts, this might truly be a game-changer. And his son would be the catalyst.

It was all hypothetical though, although after Jae had received a dragon egg it suddenly felt less so. Not that anyone knew how to hatch the egg, but surely the return of direwolves hinted at the future return of dragons as magic awakened across the land. Such thoughts were often shared with Maester Aemon, as well as Grand Maester Marwyn, and he felt lucky to partake of their wisdom on these matters.

He shuddered at the thought of keeping Pycelle around. He had been completely in Tywin's pocket and one of Rhaegar's first moves was to find an excuse to rid himself of the old stuttering lecher. Charges of espionage had seen to the removal of Pycelle's head, although none had given voice to the name of Pycelle's master.

It was getting really late and they both needed their rest. As they left Arthur turned to him, "Shall I still expect you on the training grounds at dawn, your grace?"

"Aye," said Rhaegar in an exaggerated northern accent which made Arthur chuckle. "My son will soon outdo me in swordplay and I don't want to lose his respect completely when he returns."

When he entered his chambers he found Lyanna already asleep under the covers. As so often he stopped at the sight of her in the faint moonlight. Her long dark-brown curls wore spread out over her pillow. She was beautiful. Ever since she had started to share his bed he had felt a level of peace andcontentment that he never knew he lacked. Sleep came easily; his dreams less troubled. She was a wolf who belonged to him alone.

Lyanna

She was running in the Wolfswood, although the name seemed foreign to her somehow. The scent of her pack filled her nostrils, intertwined with the many and varied scents of the forest. Trees, brush, old trails of prey; they all mixed and gave her a sense of belonging.

Her pack mates were out of sight, but she could feel them all around her. Shadow, who leapt with great strides ahead of her, had picked up the scent of a deer and howled in excitement. Her young ones answered with howls of their own and thus the hunt was on.

Excitement filled her. The thrill of the hunt; the anticipation of the taste of warm blood on her tongue. This was the true essence of life, to hunt with your pack.

She ran swiftly, but not straight after the Alpha of their pack. She knew these woods well. She knew that the deer would have to veer north eventually to circle round the hill ahead of them. She meant to cut their prey off while Shadow gave chase from behind. Now it was just a question who would reach it first. She increased the pace so much it was as if she flew across the ground.

While Mist was not far behind her; Grey Wind, Shade and Raven had veered off after having picked up the scent of another deer. Suddenly she felt her frustration echoed by that of Shadow. Before she had even noticed, Ghost had unexpectedly leapt out of nowhere and snapped his jaws around the neck of the deer. She salivated at the taste of blood he shared with her.

It didn't make sense for her to feel ill at ease with one of her pack mates; with one of her own cubs. But there was something different about Ghost that separated him from the others and it was not just his unnatural but deadly silence. For once, she couldn't always sense his presence.

Before long both she and Shadow reached Ghost as he stood triumphantly over his prey. He hadn't begun to eat yet, but his maw was red with blood, matching his eyes that now watched her intently. He made no move, but she sensed the invitation well enough and both she and Shadow dug into the downed deer, making short work of it as they ripped it to pieces. Ghost only took one large piece of flesh for himself before he silently leapt away.

She wondered if Shadow could sense the coming challenge from Ghost just as well as she did. Granted, there was no real sign of it yet, but she could still feel it. It wouldn't be long, she knew, before they would all follow Ghost's lead. Somehow that felt right.

A/N: Thank you for your encouragement. Had to release another chapter since it made me so happy. Hope you enjoyed it! :)

Update: a reader pointed out that I completely forgot that I made Jon Arryn the Master of Laws, not Stannis. Fixed it now, but it "works" less well without Stannis is in the position as Dany's ally.