DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING
A/N: I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, life got in the way as it often does but now I'm back on track and the updates should start coming at a regular pace now! As always, a thousand thank yous to everyone who reviewed-they do mean a lot and keep me inspired!
Lavender. The first thing that greeted Rhaego as he awoke was the heavy smell of lavender pervading the air. With agonizing effort the young Khal sat up in his bed only to be gently pushed back down by Jorah and one of his bloodriders. The stood around his bedside like ominous spectres looking down on him to pass some form of hideous judgement.
"Easy Rhaego, you're safe, though you scared the life out of us with that trick against the Warlocks." said Jorah with a laugh.
"Where am I?" asked Rhaego as he struggled to clear his throbbing head of its fog.
"You're in my guest room." Came the familiar haughty voice of the Spice King, though he looked none too pleased at the moment. "I suggest you take your leave as soon as you are able; the Warlocks had many powerful friends in Qarth."
Rhaego wasn't bothered by this turn of events, no, his mind was too busy obsessing over another matter entirely. "Where is the dragon egg?" he asked suddenly.
Jakerhro smiled and procured something from underneath a bundle of clothes, revealing the ancient green stone. Rhaego eagerly took the large gem and inspected it closely, as if it held some the answers to some ancient riddle that he could only vaguely imagine.
"I must insist that you and your men leave Qarth tonight." Cut in the Spice King again, a look of impatience on his rounded face. "The good Magister should know that despite my wish for continued business, I cannot let you remain here. I shall organize safe passage if you require."
"A ship back to Pentos would be much appreciated." chimed in Jorah.
"No! We're not going back to Pentos, not yet." interrupted Rhaego angrily. Returning now would be an admission of defeat. "There is one more place I must go….my lord, I would ask that you provide me and my riders enough supplies to travel to Norvos."
The fat merchant blinked in confusion at the young Khal for a few moments before slowly nodding his head, sending ripples down his multiple chins. "I'll have everything arranged. You must be ready to leave by nightfall." And with that the merchant bowed and swiftly left the room.
Rhaego slowly rose from his bed and went about stretching his aching muscles and washing his face in a basin of water that lay on a counter, all the while he could feel Jorah's glare of disapproval boring a hole into his back. The young Khal rinsed the sweat from his brow before turning to look at the tired old man standing behind him.
"You might as well get it off your chest Jorah."
"This is madness. We should return back to Pentos, not go riding off into the desert!" growled Jorah in frustration, the lines of stress becoming more and more visible on his worn hairy face.
"I still have one more egg to retrieve." Replied Rhaego calmly.
"This will only lead to your death boy!" shouted Mormont in frustration. "You nearly died in that House of The Undying; did you even consider how your mother would react? I know her; she cares more about your wellbeing than she does for some useless gem."
Rhaego looked away briefly and tried to gather his thoughts, tried to think of some way, any way to explain himself to the old bear knight. It was not that he didn't want to return to his home in Pentos or see his mother again, but he knew in his heart that he couldn't just give up, not after having come so far already.
"Jorah, this is something I have to see through. You call it madness? Well I say it would be madness to turn back after having come all this way. If you want to go back to Pentos then by all means go, but I'm leaving for Norvos with or without you."
The old bear was about to open his mouth in response but swiftly shut it when Rhaego fixed him a fiery glare that had sent many a warrior running in fear and simply gave the young Khal a nod before leaving his chambers.
The moon was shining bright when they left Qarth, illuminating the garden of bones that lay outside the city's mighty walls for miles. The Dothraki were natural nomads and thus did not drag their feet in leaving the city and, along with the added supplies they had been granted, ventured out into the cool night.
Rhaego smiled as he felt the cool night breeze kiss his copper skin, he had spent most of his life in the harsh warmth of the desert and times when he could truly enjoy the cool were rare. For the most part they rode in silence which suited Rhaego fine as he tried to gather his thoughts about all that he had seen inside the Warlocks' temple. The words of that had been said, the images of lions and stags and blue griffins…it all made his head spin at put a deep fear into his belly.
When they made camp later that night the young Khal hunkered down with his bloodriders and began listening to their japes and stories and found himself feeling better because of it. The smaller things in life helped distract him from the colossal challenges that awaited him, and kept him thankful for what he had with his Khalasar.
As he made to enter his tent the young Khal felt as though he were being watched yet when he turned his head to look behind him all he could see was the sleeping forms of his men around the camp fire and the eternal darkness of the desert beyond them.
He thought of the red woman as he gave a final glance at the campfire, the flow of her crimson hair, the way the flames danced about her but not touching her. Such an image was hard to get out of his head despite everything so he chose to instead think of another woman as he entered his tent and went to his cot; he had seen his mother in that house as well, with a dragon no less. She closed the door then, not me he reminded himself. The memory caused him to ache with longing, how long had it been since he had last heard her voice?
Rhaego shook the thoughts away; he was a Khal of the Dothraki not a mewling child who needed his mother, instead he thought of the blood he would soon spill if anyone stood in his way. The Norvosi were proud warriors and wouldn't quake so easily at the sight of Rhaego's riders and only the gods knew how many men he would have to kill to get to his prize. No matter he thought to himself It wouldn't be the first time I've killed to get what I want…
They continued to travel by night and rest by day for another week until finally they left the red waste and returned to the familiar tall grass of the Dothraki sea, where food and game where plentiful. The change in environment greatly improved the morale of his Khalasar who had were overjoyed to be back in the lands of their birth. Jorah however, was not happy.
"You've never told me about what was inside that cursed building." He said one morning as they returned from a hunt.
Rhaego clenched his jaw. "What do you want to know?" he said reluctantly.
Mormont's face darkened. "I would hear it all. You were in that place for hours and suddenly it burnt to the ground, what went on inside?"
The young Khal gave a heavy sigh and tried to find the right words to describe the waking nightmare he had experienced. Would Jorah understand the way his mind had been bent and twisted as he struggled to move through that labyrinth of horror? Rhaego wasn't sure but he knew that he had to speak of it to someone or else let the memories continue to haunt his dreams.
"I did as the Warlock instructed and followed the path, though I was met by countless illusions and devilry that tried to halt my progress." He took a breath and looked Jorah straight in the eye, praying that the older man would believe what he said next. "When I found the Undying Ones they presented me with visions, warnings I think. It was as if the world around me twisted into something else and I was suddenly confronted by apparitions…a lion that was beaten and chained, a griffin that sat over a dragon's egg…a large stag with a crown around its neck and a harpy that sat atop a throne of bones."
The Bear knight rubbed at his beard thoughtfully at that and was silent for a long time before turning back to the Khal. "A crowned stag you say? That would be the sigil of House Baratheon."
Rhaego's purple eyes widened in shock as realization dawned on him. He had been taught all of the sigils of the noble Houses in Westeros by his mother as a boy yet it never occurred to him that the visions he had seen may have referencing actual men. Were these people his enemies?
"The lion could mean House Lannister, whom butchered your cousins and grandfather." said Jorah thoughtfully.
"What of the griffin? Who holds that beast as their sigil?"
The big knight furrowed his hairy brow in deep thought before making a clucking sound with his tongue. "There was a House in the Stormlands that bore the Griffin sigil, though to the best of my knowledge they are either all dead or stripped of their lands after Robert's Rebellion."
"And the Harpy?" he asked eagerly.
Mormont considered. "I can't think of any lord or knight from Westeros who bears the Harpy, but….do not let these things trouble you so much, fate is beyond our command. These prophecies only serve to infuriate and madden the living and you have too much ahead of you to let this weigh you down as well."
The young Khal thought on the old knight's words and could see their wisdom, and tried to go about his journeys as he had in the past yet every night when he closed his eyes his dreams were haunted by the beasts he had yet to face and the burning glow of the crimson woman who had been his saviour.
The Khalasar moved west along the familiar paths of the Dothraki Sea that had been left behind by countless other horse lords who had traversed the same soil as they had. It was on such a ride that Rhaego wondered whether his father had ever been in the same place he was travelling over, if he had ever been young and full of dreams. Would that I had known you father, perhaps I would not be living an exiles life he reflected as he sadly watched the road ahead of him.
After two weeks of riding they finally came upon the city of Norvos. It was not half as big Pentos but it seemed to dwarf Myr or Qohor, with the large amount of smaller villages lying on its outskirts and its rolling hills it was both wide and tall. They were not even a league from the inner city and already they could spot the High City that sat atop the highest of the Norvosi hills. What struck Rhaego were the sounds the city made as they approached; the three bells of Norvos were said to be among the greatest creations of man, with their unique sounds echoing across the immediate land, informing all of where they were.
"The city is too big to sack blood of my blood." Tommo informed him as they rode.
"Aye, I would have you wait in one of these outlying villages while I take Jorah the Andal and Jakerhro into the city to find my prize. Can you do that Blood of my blood?" he asked his old friend.
A flash of disappointment crossed Tommo's copper face but he bowed his head in acceptance. "It will be as you say blood of my blood."
After his Ko's had given the command and the Khalasar took up camp just outside one of the exterior villages, Rhaego and a small handful of men entered the massive city and made their way towards the High City where their target resided. The streets were clogged with people of different races and creeds; some were selling their trades while others preached high and loud about the word of their gods, most however, were simply travellers trying to find their way.
As they passed the great temple of the Bearded Priests the companions came across a large brown bear that was performing a swaying dance for a crowd of amazed onlookers down the Sinner's Steps. The beast easily stood eight feet tall and looked as though it could have effortlessly killed a dozen men with its large paws though Rhaego could tell that most of the fight had been beaten from the animal after years of mistreatment and servitude. It is the nature of man to break and destroy everything he has power over he reflected.
"A friend of yours?" asked Jakerhro to Jorah as he pointed at the great furry beast. The big knight let out a low chuckle but said nothing as they continued their trek through the labyrinth like streets and up the steep hills. By the time they reached the High City their feet were well and truly sore and Rhaego let them stop for a moment and catch their breath.
Jorah took a mouthful of water from his canteen. "How much further? It feels like we've been climbing the damned Wall itself."
"Not too far, Illyrio told me that the man who has the last dragon egg is named Fahrio and that he lives close to the great bell of Nyel which is to the east of here."
The bear knight grunted in acknowledgement and after a time they all pushed on. While they had a name and a general location, Illyrio had not provided them with anything more specific so they were forced to follow the high pitched sound of the Nyel bell and ask people on the streets if they had heard of anyone with the name Fahrio, most people were ignorant of the man or just too frightened to converse with several Dothraki and a large Westerosi knight.
It was well past midday when they finally did find someone who anything of value, an old merchant that was half blind and near toothless, yet he looked at Rhaego with his one good eye with honesty. "Aye, I know that filthy cutthroat Fahrio." He had told them before spitting in distaste. "The bastard robbed more than half of us here on the streets with his damned dice games. Would that I could still swing a sword and I'd have had his pox marked head."
Rhaego smiled at that. "Tell me where I can find him and I'll bring it to you, mayhaps I'll even wrap it in silk dressing if you wish."
The old man snorted. "You're too late. The city guard found him out three days past, now he rots away in the Stone Cells."
The Khal cursed under his breath. The Stone Cells of Norvos were infamous among travellers, as a cautionary tale for anyone who entered the city and thought to break the Norvosi laws. The giant stone fortress that housed the multitudes of criminals was built in the time when Old Valyria ruled the East, its thick walls made of some volcanic stone that has suffered very little wear from the ages and had stood as a symbol of both Valyrian ingenuity and Norvosi determination.
Jorah gave the prince a sceptical look. "What now?"
Rhaego paced about trying to rack his brains for a solution for the newest test that the Great Stallion had thrown his way. It was near impossible to break out of the Stone Cells once imprisoned there so that at least meant that his prey would not be going anywhere but it would also make it impossible to actually reach the man as he had no coin to bribe the gaolers. It was then an idea came upon him. "I'm going to get myself arrested."
Mormont's jaw hung open in shock. "Madness."
The look Rhaego gave Jorah was dark. "Never use that word in presence Ser. Besides, if me and a few of my bloodriders allow ourselves to be imprisoned within the Stone Cells then we can find Fahrio and get him to tell us where the egg is, while that is happening you are to go back to Tommo and bring the Khalasar within the city. If we can attack the prison from the outside it may just serve as enough of a distraction for us on the inside to make an escape."
The former lord of Bear Island did not look convinced yet grudgingly nodded his head. Once the old bear was informed of everything he had to do Rhaego sent him off to return to the Khalasar while Jakerhro and Togo stayed by his side. The trio watched the streets and marketplaces for any members of the city guard and once they caught sight of one or two of the cloaked figures they would try and start a fight. Rhaego had broken a man's nose and likely crippled another before he was struck over the head and sent into a semi-conscious daze.
It was a few hours later when the pain faded enough for him to regain his senses and he was vaguely aware of two burly men dragging him by his arms down a series of steps before finally dumping him unceremoniously into a damp and dark room. He absently rubbed at the throbbing spot on his head and felt wetness there as the dark red of his blood mingled with the silver of his hair.
"How many of them did you kill before they brought you here?" came a haughty voice from somewhere in his darkened cell.
Despite the pain and the dizziness that still clouded his senses, Rhaego slowly rose from the ground to get a better look at his cell and the one he was with. The room itself seemed more like a burrow that had been clawed into the rock rather than any usual dungeon cell and odd warmth emanated from within the stone walls. The actual interior of the cell was sparse, a small cot and a bucket that served as his privy and some hay on the floor that was home to more than a few rats.
"Quite a shithole isn't it?"
Rhaego once again turned his attention to the darkened half of the cell. "It matters little; I don't intend to stay long."
Another mocking laugh came from the shadows. "Oh and I'm sure you're only here now to humour our wonderful gaolers.
"As soon as I find that cutthroat Fahrio I will be on my way."
The cell went silent then and Rhaego could hear the other man shift his position before finally he came out into the light. The man stood tall, though he was shorter and thinner than Rhaego's own massive form, and his clothes seemed to hang off of his body loosely. His face, while malnourished like the rest of him, was comely in its own way with his lopsided grin and vibrant green eyes that seemed to exude laughter and while he certainly seemed well over forty his face seemed mostly devoid of wrinkles and the only indicator of his age was the grey that crept into his golden locks around his temples and beard.
The man flashed a grin. "I have bad news my friend, Fahrio was killed last night."