The shadows under the Harpy
Edmure POV
To attack the Temple of the Graces would be foolish, even if we knew what they were hiding. We would make an enemy of everyone in Meereen. But leaving them alone would bring trouble, too. It was a complicated matter that I didn't wish to spend time on. I wanted to be done with them and return home, but he needed to finish what he had begun.
"How much longer do we have to stay here?" Tyrion asked.
"Until we see all those who enter and leave the temple," I answered.
Tyrion, Bronn, and I have been watching the temple for days, noting everyone who entered it. While it would be a bad decision to attack the temple, its patrons weren't out of our reach. So, we observed them. Taking all of them out would take too long. But if we find out the most prominent patrons, it would be a matter of planting evidence of their wrongdoings and taking them out.
Losing their biggest gold donors would be enough to get them out of hiding. And nobody would be able to help them, as nobody would even realize why they were hit in the first place. Once we have the names of the most prominent people associated with the Sons of the Harpy, it wouldn't be too hard to crack down on them. The temple won't be able to help them.
"Couldn't the Queen have sent someone else to do this?" Bronn asked. "For how much longer do we need to stay here? I was bored to death two days ago."
"Like I have said, until we see all those who enter and leave the temple," I repeated myself to the sellsword. "Even if it takes weeks."
"Urgh," The sellsword groaned. "I would rather do anything else than sit here and watch some old men and women enter and leave some temple."
"At least we are not in dungeons rotting away," Tyrion said, taking a sip from his flask that smelled like wine.
I ignored them and continued to look through far-eye, noting all the faces. It wasn't hard to notice the rich people, as the difference between them and average people was too big to go unnoticed. Even though I didn't recognize most of them, I still wrote out their features for future reference. Even if they were proxies, I could trace them back to their masters.
If I could move on my own, I would have already taken care of the problem. But Daenerys trust in us already was burned, and wouldn't trust either Tyrion or me doing something alone. So, we had to report to her everything we did and wait for her to let us do what we needed to do. It was a humbling experience as I usually wouldn't care about her or anyone else and do what I thought was right.
Yet, she was too important of a person for me to deceive and work against. I was still concerned about the Winter, and I could see that we would need her and her dragons to survive it. And I was at her mercy, as she could kill me any time she wanted as long as she thought it was a justifiable reason. Even the Tattered Prince wouldn't be able to help me.
I only recently found someone sailing to Westeros to deliver my letter to Arianne, so I will have to wait until I receive a response. And there was still Astapor and Shireen to worry about. If I could convince her to return to Westeros, her presence should be able to stabilize the Stormlands. The lords would accept their fate sooner, with Shireen leading them. That if Jaehaerys haven't already dealt with them. Either way, with her on our side, we could cull any rebellions before they even began.
…
Daario looked at me with vicious eyes while we were waiting for Daenerys to come to the meeting room. Asha played with her dagger, ignoring japes from Tyrion. The Tattered Prince stayed silent, standing by the wall, not even sitting before the Queen appeared. Ser Barristan came first, followed by Daenerys and then Grey Worm.
"What do you have for me?" Daenerys asked as soon as she saw me.
"After thorough investigation, we found three families that are supporting the Temple of the Graces the most," I began. "Of course, there is the House of Galare, which is involved with the Temple immensely."
"They always supported me," The Queen of Meereen said.
"They did not," Tyrion replied. "At most, they gave you kind words and empty promises. I wouldn't be surprised if that bitch who calls herself the Green Grace is the head of the Sons of the Harpy. Either way, we know she is deeply involved with their actions."
"Then there is the House of Merreq and the House of Ghazeen," I continued. "They are one of the most ancient slaving houses in Meereen. We saw them bringing various gifts to the Temple multiple times."
"Enough to be suspicious of them?" Ser Barristan asked.
"At first, no," I answered. "We thought it was standard supplies. Food, clothes, and medicine."
"But?" Daario asked.
"But I wasn't convinced, so I followed where these supplies came from," I said. "Half of them came from blacksmiths and carpenters."
"Weapons?" Grey Worm asked.
"My thoughts exactly," I answered. "They are supplying the temple with weapons. And more weapons than they needed."
"Temple of Graces wouldn't need weapons to begin with," Daario said.
"I meant more weapons than the Sons of the Harpy would need," I replied.
"They are planning an attack," Grey Worm concluded.
"They need to bleed to know what terror is," Daario said. "Give me an order, your Grace, and I will carve them into pieces. I leave none of them unscathed."
"Take your men and block their so-called gifts, confiscate them, and then use the people you captured to push into the Houses of those who support the temple," Daenerys said. "Under the pretext of weapon smuggling, confiscate everything they own. If they refuse to cooperate, seize them to be questioned, and if they still resist, you can kill them on the site."
Drastic but expected action. It should make the smaller houses hesitant to support the Sons of the Harpy while the others will go into hiding. They would keep their heads down and wait for the storm to pass. It would buy us enough time to plan the end of the Temple. If we could frame certain priests for corruption and other things, it shouldn't be much trouble taking the rest of the power from the leaders of the Sons of the Harpy.
"Grey Worm, gather your men and maintain the order in the city," Daenerys continued. "No matter what, ensure that my actions do not lead to chaos or further violence. Maintaining the safety and security of the city's inhabitants should remain a top priority."
"To maintain order, you would need to address the public and explain what is happening, Your Grace," Tyrion said. "Explain the situation transparently. Communicating your actions and intentions can garner support for your decisions and demonstrate your commitment to justice. You need that much as a shield if you don't want to get hurt by the counteractions of the Great Masters."
"And afterward, you need to hold a court to implement broader reforms for those who might have contributed to support for the Sons of the Harpy," I added. "Extend an offer of amnesty to the houses who would acknowledge their involvement, disarm their supporters, and agree to support your rule moving forward. This approach would emphasize reconciliation over retribution."
"I will consider it," Daenerys didn't seem like she wanted to agree with us but knew it was good advice. "What of Hizdahr no Loraq? Is he in some way involved with the Sons of the Harpy?"
"It is complicated," Tyrion began. "At first, we thought he was part of the leadership. However, we have observed his interactions with the temple and the involved families. He seemed not to have much say in the Sons of the Harpy matters or any say in anything, but he is still important to them."
"I believe he is groomed to be the heir in their organization," I said. "The Green Grace seemed like the leader, so I believe Hizdahr is her heir. But it is too early to say as we only observed their interactions from a distance."
"Thank you for your hard work," Daenerys said, not showing any emotion. "You are dismissed. I will call for your presence if I have more work for you."
Everyone left the meeting room at her words. I cracked my neck as I felt tired and stood up to leave. Tyrion followed soon after. We had several sleepless nights observing the temple and investigating the involved families. I was ready to take a long rest. At least my wounds have fully healed. I have waited for too long for it. I should have a few spars so as not to lose my skill.
"Why does it feel like the Queen is using us?" Tyrion asked as we walked through the long hallways.
"Because she is using us," I answered.
"Of course, we are the only competent people in her circle," Tyrion said. "As much as she hates us, I don't think she would want or could get rid of us. Without us, Meereen would have already fallen. Would be to Euron or the Sons of the Harpy."
"You put too much credit on yourself, Tyrion," I replied. "After all, it was me who forced you out of Westeros and me who put you in this position."
"You know, Edmure," Tyrion began with a wry grin as he took his flask. "If we survive this mess, I might write a book about our misadventures. 'Tales of Two Reluctant Heroes,' perhaps."
"Leave it to you to capture the absurdity of it all," I chuckled at Tyrion's words. "I can already imagine you portraying yourself as a misunderstood hero who gained acknowledgment from various influential figures. Ending with my death and your happy ending with your long lost love."
"Absurdity, indeed. Yet here we are, watching over a temple, uncovering plots, and waiting for Daenerys to give us the nod to move," Tyrion said, taking a sip from his flask. "But who knows the ending? We first need to survive this absurdity."
"To the surviving the absurdity, then," I responded by taking the flask from Tyrion's hands and drinking the rest of the wine inside.
Soon, we reached our chambers and left each other alone. As I entered my room, I sat on my chair next to the window and sunk into it. Uncovering the truth behind the Sons of the Harpy had consumed my days and nights, leaving me drained. The flickering light of a solitary candle danced on the walls, barely illuminating anything in the room.
The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a silvery glow that starkly contrasted the room's darkness. My thoughts wandered to the future, to a Westeros still grappling with the aftermath of war and the looming threat of winter. The letter I had sent to Arianne Martell was a fragile thread of hope, as it might not even reach her. I could only hope she was doing fine and was advising the King well.
I closed my eyes, letting them rest. But I knew the sleep wouldn't find me soon. Instead, I thought of my and Tyrion's alliance. In a world rife with chaos and hidden motives, our alliance – forged through circumstance and necessity – was a testament to the unpredictability of fate. We should be bitter enemies, yet we must rely on each other now.
In the end, I didn't manage to sleep for long. I woke up in the middle of the night. Finding nothing else to do, I took my sword. I have missed the feeling of the Red Rain on my hands. The red-colored Valyrian steel felt light in my hand. Giving it a few swings, I found it felt suitable to use it. Unlike any other steel swords I used, this one felt like it was made for me.
Going over the swordsmanship I have learned over all the years. I felt like I was myself once again. My worries disappeared as I moved through the spacious room. As sweat covered me, I couldn't help but smile. For the first time in forever, I didn't see any faces I needed to kill as my sword slashed through the empty air. I was finally free from the nightmares that Euron brought to me.
A.N. As always, If you want more, up to seven advanced chapters, you can support me on pa treon. com \ ironwolf852. And if you have any requests for stories, I will only take them on my pa treon.