DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING
A/N: As always, many thanks to those of you who left a review, it keeps me inspired!
Rhaego stared at the gold haired man sitting across from him, struggling with the new he had just heard. "Killed….how?"
The other man simply shrugged. "He made enemies. People don't take kindly to men who cheat at dice, even in this hell."
What in the name of the gods am I going to do now? He wondered hopelessly as he collapsed onto the small bunk that had been provided for him. With Fahrio dead how else am I to find the dragon egg? It could be anywhere…
"You seem….distressed. Was he a friend of yours?"
Rhaego snorted. "Gods no, I never met the man but he did steal something precious that belonged to someone I care about….though now I shall never see it again." In truth it was likely that he would die not knowing what happened to that dragon egg, and the thought of it churned in his stomach like bad milk.
A smirk crossed the other man's face and he rubbed his beard curiously before leaning back against the stone wall of their shared cell. "You speak the common tongue very well for a Dothraki."
"My mother taught me."
"And I would hazard a guess and say you could speak High Valyrian as well."
Rhaego eyed the man carefully then. More often than not he spent his time amongst the Dothraki and outside of his childhood in Pentos it was rare that he spent any considerable amount of time in any of the Free Cities, and as such his Valyrian heritage was often ignored. Most took him to be the son of some Lyseni bedslave though he could see that his cellmate wouldn't buy that charade.
"Valar Morghulis." He said finally.
"Valar Dohaeris." answered the man with a broad grin. "Tell me, what is the son of Daenerys Stormborn doing in a Norvosi prison, searching for a dragon egg perhaps?"
The young Khal rose to his feet then. "You know of it?"
A grin crossed the man's face once again and his eyes seemed to shine like twin emeralds in the darkness of the cell. "Let's just say that Fahrio and I played dice on more than one occasion."
A silence fell over the small room then as the two men watched each other warily. Rhaego knew that he could easily overpower the other man and that it wouldn't take too much effort to maim him, though if he did anything too harsh on the man he might kill him by mistake. Just when the tension had reached its peak the golden haired man gave a bark of laughter. "You're quite an anxious young man aren't you? So eager to use your fists rather than your brain, though at least you wouldn't hide behind guards like your grandfather."
"You knew him?"
A shadow of a smile passed the man's face then. "I knew the Mad King Aerys before he was a king yes, he and my brother were quite close back in those days. But then once the jittering fool sat the throne he ruined it for the rest of your lot, didn't he?"
Rhaego felt anger within him at the man's arrogance, boiling up in the back of his throat until he was like to choke upon the taste. "Who are you to mock my family? My family ruled the greatest dynasty the world has ever seen for three hundred years!"
The man held up his hands in peace. "Apologies, it was a thoughtless jape. While I confess I had no love for your grandsire, Queen Rhaella on the other hand was the image of kindness, a shame that the she was betrothed to one person she didn't hold any affection for."
He watched as his cellmate spoke and saw genuine emotion in the man's voice and suddenly his curiosity grew steadily. "Who are you? How do you know my family so well?"
His cellmate shifted uncomfortably on his cot and his green eyes looked off into the corner of the cell as if he was ashamed. He was about to speak when suddenly they heard a clanging noise as the cell door unlocked and was pushed open. A single guard walked in, a large rounded man with a bald head and a thick brown drooping moustache; in his large hands were two bowls of oats which he carefully placed on the ground before slowly backing out of the cell and locking the door back into place.
The Golden haired man quickly rose from his cot and went over to the bowls. He handed one to Rhaego before sitting back down and scooping up the mushy food with his hands and began hungrily devouring it. After a few moments the man caught Rhaego staring. "You best eat up; we only get the one meal a day."
Hesitantly the Khal dipped a copper finger into the mush a brought it to his mouth. It was quite bland but otherwise perfectly edible and he slowly began to scoop up bigger mouthfuls. Once he was finished with his subpar meal he sat the bowl done beside his cot and stared at his cellmate once more.
"You know where Fahrio hid the dragon egg."
"I do. It seems our mutual friend was something of a packrat; he hid his most precious belongings in a secure location, though he was prone to blabbering when he was in his cups…"
"What do you want in exchange for its location?"
His cellmate grinned broadly at that and let out a low chuckle. "You implied that you could escape from this place. I only ask that when you do launch your daring escape that you allow an old lion like me to tag along, once we are free I shall happily reunite you with that lovely red stone."
How can I trust this man? he wondered. It could be that the man sitting across from him was nothing more than a liar who sought to play on Rhaego's own desperation. Yet the man knew things about his family. What do I have to lose? One way or another I must needs escape from this place and if he betrays me he'll die by inches…
"I need proof." He finally grunted warily.
The golden haired man gave a curt nod. "Alright, the dragon egg in question is a dark red, almost black, and it was taken from your mother Daenerys Stormborn, around sixteen years ago back when she was first returned to Pentos under the care of Magister Illyrio Mopatis." He paused and smiled at Rhaego. "Do I need to go on?"
"Fine, but know this; if you betray me I'll rip your heart out and nail it high for all of Norvos to see."
"Fair enough." the man rose from his cot and extended his bony hand over to Rhaego. "My name is Gerion."
Time in the cell passed at a strange pace as the only light they had was from the torch that burnt just outside their door, and even that was obscured by the bars on their one window to the world outside their confined space. On what he assumed was his second day of imprisonment Rhaego was stirred awake by Gerion who pointed over to their cell door. "Come, best get in an hour of exercise while we have the chance."
Groggily the young Khal got to his feet and followed Gerion out of the cell and into the corridor. Waiting for him were two guards wielding crossbows, one of them poked him in the back with their weapon and urged forward to which he reluctantly obeyed. They followed a long tunnel until finally they came to a large domed room that was littered with various tunnels where several other prisoners had gathered and formed their own small clans. The roof was like everything else in the giant prison; made of volcanic rock with only a dozen or so torches to keep it illuminated. There was a single stairwell that led from the ground to the upper section of the prison where several guards stood, vigilantly watching all below them ready to fire their bolts down on any unruly prisoner that caught their notice. Rhaego felt a swell of disgust in his gullet as he eyed the men watching him. Crossbows are the weapons of cravens and eunuchs, would that I had my arakh…
As they walked down into the dome Rhaego spotted Jakerhro amidst the collection of malnourished prisoners shuffling about. Not long after he also saw Togo, though he looked like he was ready to keel over with the beating that had been inflicted on him and one of his eyes seemed to have swollen shut.
He pointed them out to Gerion and the two then ventured over to see them. "Blood of my blood, how do you fare?" he asked Togo who merely smiled at him with a mouth full of blood.
Jakerhro eyed off Gerion sceptically. "Who is this man blood of my blood? He looks like an Andal."
"This man knows of where the dragon egg is hidden and will take us to it." The bloodrider swallowed the answer easily enough.
All of a sudden several of the prisoners began muttering to themselves and started speaking in harsh whispers, many of them throwing poisonous glares up the stairwell and when Rhaego followed their gaze he saw a lone figure standing above, a colossus of a man whose hands were clasped around the handle of the biggest axe Rhaego had ever seen.
Gerion caught him staring. "That is our chief Gaoler, Shiro Kala. The man is a bearded priest and the main obstacle that lies between us and freedom."
"Surely someone has beaten him? One man cannot hold back an entire prison alone."
The other man gave a bark of laughter. "Does it look like a single man? With that axe it's always going to be two against one in a fight with that beast, and you have the crossbowmen to keep the prisoners from revolting so they don't swarm him in numbers."
The gears in Rhaego's head began turning slowly at that as he eyed off the axeman and the rest of the guards that sat perched in high positions, they could most likely slaughter anyone handily from where they were seated and none of Rhaego's companions had anything by way of armour to shield them from the bolts, but if their attention was diverted…
Suddenly he was shaken from his scheming when he observed four Summer Islanders approaching him with murderous intent, each of them looking like a wall of scarred ebony muscle. He stood up a little straight and began stretching the stiffness from his body; he was eager for a fight and relished the chance to vent some stress upon anyone foolish enough to try anything.
The leader of the group spat in Rhaego's direction. "This is my house you've walked into." He walked up to them and crossed his big arms. "and I do not wish for Horse lord scum like you to defile it with your filth." His voice was more growl than an actual tongue used by men.
I shall relish tearing it out thought Rhaego, yet he kept silent and waited until the man took a few steps closer.
"Have nothing to say? I should have known you Dothraki aren't worth shit without your horses. Get down on your hands and knees and lick the shit from my feet and I may just take your manhoods instead of your lives."
The man made to take another step and Rhaego was on him in an instant, smashing his fist down on his opponent's jaw thrice in quick succession causing the other man to stumble back as blood came rushing from his mouth and clutching at his now unnaturally gaping mouth. Before his opponent had time to get up Rhaego followed through with another solid punch to the man's throat, sending the Summer Island to ground, dead.
The rest of his group stared up at the young Khal in horror before hurrying back to whatever hovel they crawled from, leaving their friend's corpse to litter the ground. He looked about and saw that a few of the other prisoners were staring at him with expressions that varied from fear, hatred and even admiration. Some of the guards also watched him with dull interest, clearly not worried by the fact that a prisoner had murdered another under their watch.
Gerion chuckled happily at the sight as if it was some bawdy joke he had just heard. "You're going to fit right in here."
Rhaego shrugged. "We're escaping in two day, and this lot of thieves, murderers and rapists are going to help us."