Space Dragon 2
- Before the Iron Throne -
Wrex, Aria, and Liselle all stared at the massive throne of swords. It wasn't very impressive, at least by their standards. It looked like something out of a trashy Asari romance novel; the kind with the book of the fierce queen and a dozen eager maidens strewn about, all show and no go.
The human sitting on the throne was even more unimpressive, and Wrex didn't hesitate the mention it, "By Kalros's third sack, he looks worse than a Quarian out of his hood."
Quarians, by their own admission, have horrible hood hair. As one of the few species in the galaxy that actually possessed it, they generally hid it. As a result, whenever you managed to catch sight of a Quarian without their hood, it was always to an insane explosion of unkempt hair.
"It really is," Aria nods, then her eyes widen, "Liselle, do humans generally have claws?"
"They have nails, mother, like Asari."
"Ah, then I am equally disgusted by those."
Jaime Lannister, deciding that it would probably be a good idea to stop them from talking, glares at the King's announcer. The man, a wizened old man that had the usual half burnt look of anyone that stayed close to the King, nods and tells the three aliens, "You stand before Aerys the second, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms…"
As the man declares the King's titles, Aria asks Wrex, "So I assume you plan on working for him?"
"He looks like he can afford me," Wrex agrees.
Aria sighs, they'd had several biting conversations on the way to the capital, and the most common thing that Wrex told her whenever she tried to give an order was, "You've got less on you than I do, I see more blue than armor."
It was irritating, but it was true; she had nothing. Her kingdom and her wealth were gone or useless. Credits didn't have value to a people that still used coin currency. Backwards fucking savages, the lot of them.
"Ahem," Wrex and Aria turn their attention to Liselle, who indicates for them to look back at the throne.
The King had stood, and he we even worse standing. His clothes were moth-eaten, burnt in places, and Aria would almost swear there were a few browning stains of either shit or dried blood. On a dark red robe, it was hard to tell sometimes.
"You are… trespassers… into my kingdom," Aerys coughs out, his voice hoarse. It looks like he would have walked down the steps leading up to the throne, but a look at Wrex confirms the Krogan's size in comparison to him. Aerys chose to remain higher than the trio, standing before his throne.
"It wasn't intentional, your grace," Liselle tells him, before her mother can be snappy or Wrex could be blunt, "We were beset by bandits and through no fault of our own found ourselves upon your shores. We thought it best to announce ourselves to you, so as to avoid any confusion."
"And what manner of bandits would set upon such fine maidens and a dragon?" Aerys asks, his eyes turning hungrily to Wrex and roving over him.
"The kind with better firepower and more women," Wrex grunts, "It was three of us against Sederis and her whole band. I still got to cave her skull in, though. Good times."
"Good times indeed," Aerys chuckles, "though I am not so brutal as to kill with my hands, as you clearly enjoy. I am a dragon myself, and a dragon's weapon of choice must always be fire!"
"Hm, that's a good way to kill your enemies if you want people to fear you," Aria notes. She'd had a few thousand Vorcha immolated over the centuries, "Very useful if the people under you are less than common thugs."
"You speak as though you rule," Aerys turns to her, and she raises an eyebrow at him. He doesn't notice the eyebrow, unashamedly staring at the curves of her armor.
"I did," Aria smirks, "I am the Queen of Omega. I AM Omega, I should say."
"You were Queen of Omega," Wrex reminds her, "Now we're stuck on this mudball without a way to get back."
Aria breaths in, closes her eyes, and rubs then, "Yes, thank you Wrex, for reminding me that six centuries of work has been undone by one crazy bitch with a grudge."
"Centuries?" Jaime can't help but wonder. He winces at the glare the King gives him, but then Aerys looks to Liselle for more information as well.
"Asari, and Krogan," She indicates first herself and her mother, then Wrex, "can live for more than millennia. Mother is around eight centuries old, and Wrex is even older than that."
"Let's just go with old," Wrex offers, grinning. It would have been friendly, had it not been for the fact that his teeth were talons and his mouth wider than a child's torso.
Aerys's grin is equally disconcerting, off color teeth illuminating a cracked and breaking façade of charm. He was just like Sederis, Liselle realized, with the kind of charm that people got behind and the kind of crazy that kept them behind. He was probably utterly terrifying to other humans.
The King sits back down in his throne, "Well, from one monarch to another, I bid you welcome, though you still have yet to introduce yourselves by name."
"Apologies, your grace," Liselle bows her head, "I am Lisell T'loak, and my mother is Queen Aria T'loak. With us is Wrex, of Clan Urdnot."
"Clan? Your people travel in tribes? Like the wildlings or the mountain folk of the Vale?" Aerys's face contorts into one of mild contempt.
"Don't think so, do they own entire continents?" Wrex asks, "Urdnot is a clan because it's family. We build our bonds strong and weed out the weak."
"And why are you not with them now?" Aerys asks.
"Politics," Wrex grunts.
"You don't approve of politics?" Aerys smiles, "Good, I never approved of it either, it is so much simpler when I can burn all who disobey me."
"I respect my clan, and the traditions of my people," Wrex tells him, "I could have dragged my father out of the temple and caved his carapace in with Tuchanka's sun beating down on us, but my anger made me stupid."
"You killed your own father?" Both Aerys and Jaime, and most of the other various attendants around the hall, look very uncomfortable with the notion.
"What?" Wrex asks.
"Kinslaying is a big sin here," Liselle tells him.
Wrex looks at her, then around the hall, then he shrugs, "I'm not apologizing."
"Of course you aren't," Aria rolls her eyes in irritation, then turns back to the King, "King Aerys, we would ask for your hospitality while we attempt to get back on our feet."
"Not me," Wrex shakes his head, "I'm here to see if you're hiring."
"You're a mercenary?" Jaime asks, surprised.
"Yup, what'd you think she meant when she told you I was here for money?"
"I honestly thought you wanted to sleep in the vaults."
"Why the hell would I do that?"
"It's where the gold is."
"And?"
"You're a dragon."
"I'm a Krogan."
"Which, given your appearance, is just another name for dragon."
Wrex raises an eyebrow at the Lannister's leap in logic, then shrugs and turns back to Aerys, "Whatever, are you going to hire me or not?"
"Why of course I am!" Aerys cackles with glee, "It will be I, and not my foolish son, that gains a dragon into the service of the Targaryens for the first time in more than a century!"
"Great, my going rate is a thousand credits a day," Wrex tells the king, then turns to Liselle, "What's that in their fancy gold coins?"
"Why are you asking me?" Liselle asks, "I got language and history, I don't think Lewyn cared much for finance."
"Lewyn Martell?" Jaime prompts, interrupting again.
"Ser Jaime, if you interrupt my negotiations once more I will have your tongue removed," Aerys notes.
The Kingsguard stiffens, then turns his head slowly to the King and bows it.
Aria raises an eyebrow, very carefully making a mental note to talk to the blonde human in the near future. She might be able to secure a higher position than she thought she'd manage if she played these people against each other.
Her daughter, meanwhile, replies, "Yes, Lewyn, I had to extract information on the Seven Kingdoms from him as he was dying. I might have taken more than I meant, because I'm itching to meet his niece and her children."
"And how did you extract that information?" A new voice asks, a well-dressed and mildly plump man without any hair.
"I melded our minds," Liselle tells him, "It's something we can do."
"And is he then trapped within your mind?"
"No, well, maybe a sliver of his thoughts, but he did die," Liselle tells him.
"And how did he die?"
"He got killed in a big battle," Aria notes, then tabs the sword at her waist, "fighting the human that had this."
"That is the Valyrian Steel sword Lady Forlorn," The man notes, "How did you come to claim it?"
"Its previous owner was dead and I needed a weapon," Aria notes, "I lost my gun in the fight that stranded us here."
"Gun?"
"Varys, enough," Aerys interrupts, "You can speak with her grace later. For now, Ser Jaime, escort them to the Martell whore? I wish to discuss finance with my dragon. The rest of you, OUT!"
- The Kingsroad -
"Any sign of them?" Ned Stark asks his returning outrider.
He'd sent them further than he had planned, wanting to catch up with the three strange interlopers from the battle at the Trident. When they'd returned with no word of them, he sent them further and further still. They'd gone within sight of King's Landing, stupidly enough.
"I spoke with some of the small folk, my lord," The rider tells him, "They entered the city earlier today."
"Damn," Ned sighed, he'd marched his men fast, but they were an army and set off two days after the three had departed from the battlefield. He should have known that they would be faster than his forces, and sent his riders out before they'd even set to marching.
Now it was too late, and the interlopers were in the enemy camp. Hopefully the Mad King would not treat them as he did his subjects, for if he did they were not long for this world. As it was, the siege would hopefully be quick, and he would be able to travel further south, now he had a destination thanks to a few words with Ser Barristan. He would not lose his sister as he had his father and brother.
Turning his attention to the rider, he asks, "Is there any other news?"
"I'm not sure, my lord," The rider replies, "I took the main road, so I was quickest there and back, the other lads were going through and round the woods, they'll be late getting back."
"Hopefully not too l-"
"My lord!"
Ned turns his eyes and spots one of the other riders. He exchanges a look with the first to return and the man shrugs, so he diverts his full attention to the new man, "Yes?"
"My lord, the Lannister forces are marching!" The rider tells him, stopping after he spills the words out to catch his breath.
"What? Where are they?" Ned demands.
"On the Gold Road, my lord," He tells his liege."
Ned curses, then looks to each rider and tells them, "Go to Lord Umber and Lord Bolton, we need to march as soon as we can."
- The Gold Road -
The Lannister host traveled fast, and they had been doing so for weeks. As soon as Tywin had heard of Rhaegar's death at Robert Baratheon's hands, he had ordered his Banners to march. There would be no use in hesitating now.
Once, he would have marched for Aerys. The man had been a friend, a good one. But time, jealousy, and petty revenges had eroded their relationship until it had come to this point. Even if Rhaegar had won and the kingdom secured for the Targeryens, Tywin would never have marched for him. Now, with the favored son dead and all hope lost for their cause, the Lannisters would march against them.
Tywin regretted this, as he did every harsh decision he had to make. He regretted destroying the houses of Reyne and Tarbeck, the unending loathing he had for his second son, the terrible things he did to his father's mistress, and all the other petty cruelties that he had to perpetrate because Tytos Lannister had not been strong enough to do them himself.
But there was no helping it; he needed to prove the Lannister's loyalty to the new dynasty. It would most likely be Robert Baratheon, unless he succumbed to the wounds he sustained killing Rhaegar. If it was not him, they would most likely name Eddard Stark to the position. The Northman didn't have much claim to the Iron Throne, but he was a solid commander and had earned the respect of every lord he met.
Tywin had met him once, and would even say he respected the man. There was no doubt he was a thundering fool, corrupted with the Valemen's propensity to take honor to absurd extremes. The boy's father had been a good politician, working to expand the North's influence. He'd even contacted Tywin, before his unfortunate demise, to ask after mining practices and whether they could share in the untapped bounty of the North.
A pity Aerys was truly so mad as to murder him. Needs must, however, and soon his mad friend would be dead, his son would be returned to him, and he could enter negotiations with the new King from a position of strength.
- The Maidenvault of the Red Keep, King's Landing -
"Your daughter seems very taken with the children," Aria turns her head, and raises an eyebrow at the bald man.
He smiles thinly at her and tells her, "Apologies, your grace, the King mentioned my name but we have not been formally introduced. I am Varys."
"You already know who I am," Aria notes.
"I do," He agrees, folding his arms into the sleeves of his robe as they watch Liselle play with Elia Martell's children. The young Rhenys seemed enthralled with the blue woman, sitting in her lap and chatting away.
Aria's eyes move between her daughter and the Princess's family, then they return to Varys, "You wanted to speak with me?"
"Indeed, I was hoping I could ask you if you knew the outcome of the battle at the Trident."
"Where we arrived?"
"The very same."
"It looked like your side was losing," Aria tells him, "It's probably going to lose."
"Indeed, I feel our good King's time is limited, and we must flee the capital if we are to survive."
"Why haven't you, then?"
"I am many things, your grace, and above all I am loyal to my king."
Aria smirks, "But he isn't your king, is he?"
Varys raises a curious eyebrow, "Whatever do you mean?"
"That bedraggled sack of bones isn't worth your loyalty, or anyone else's."
"He is the King, by right of birth."
Aria smirks, "So that's how you people do it."
"Things are done differently in your kingdom?"
"I took my kingdom," Aria tells him, "I'm called the Pirate Queen for a reason. And elsewhere in the galaxy things are very differently."
"That is a word you keep saying, 'galaxy,' I would love to know what it means," Varys notes, then moves away, "But that is a subject for later. It seems we must be wary of you, your grace, for you see things many refuse to see. If Aerys is not my king, who is?"
"The kid," Aria nods to Elia Martell, and the babe in her hands, "I know your sort, I am your sort. You want to shape that kid into something useful, a good king. Better than the one you've got now."
Varys sighs, and nods, "I had hoped that Rhaegar would be a good king, but if what you say about the Battle of the Trident is true, he is most likely dead, and his son is our best hope."
"So why are you telling me this?"
"You have done much to deduce all I have said already."
"And you could easily have lied to me. You want something from me."
Varys now raises both eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes.
"Don't fuck with me, Varys," She tells him, "It's always been my one rule. Do not fuck with Aria T'loak."
"If I were trying to do so, no doubt you would come up with an unpleasant way to torture me."
"I'd have just killed you," Aria tells him, "Torture is useless if you're an Asari."
"Ah, yes, your daughter's 'mind meld' with Prince Lewyn," Varys turns his eyes back to Liselle and the royal family, "Truth and justice must come very easy to your people."
"Truth does, justice is just an idea Matriarchs try to shove down our throats," Aria frowns.
"Then let us get to the truth of the matter," Varys turns fully to her, "I ask you to smuggle the royal family to Dragonstone, in return you will be granted any privilege Queen Rhaella can give you."
"And where is she?"
"She is already at Dragonstone, with her and Aerys's remaining child, Viserys."
"Why get them out of King's Landing, isn't it safer here?"
"Aerys would have them burnt alive on a whim," Varys tells her.
"Kill him, then."
"I have neither the skill with arms nor the access to poisons to do so."
"Give Wrex a week, he'll do it for free," Aria offers.
Varys smiles lightly at that, "Would that I could, but while I have not heard from the Trident, I have heard from my spies elsewhere, and Tywin Lannister is on the march to King's Landing. He should arrive in but a few days."
"And he is?"
"A most ruthless man, and one constantly harangued by the king. His son acts in the Kingsguard, to the man's eternal ire."
"So no love lost and a war clearly in the oppositions favor, you think he's going to sack the city."
"An excellent deduction," Varys complements her.
She smirks, "It's what I would do."
"Then it seems time is of the essence."
"Probably," She agrees, "Make the arrangements and we'll be on your ship."
Varys turns and walks away, missing the sight of her smirk turning into a full grin. It would be such fun being in a position to claim a place at the top of the hierarchy once more.