Chapter Four: Schemers & Dragons
Holy whatever-the-hell-stuck-me-here!
She was massive, not as large as her body-less comrades in the keep might have been but when the largest animal you have ever seen is as elephant (and part of a humpback) it takes a while to adjust to seeing a damned dragon.
Her name was something-something-Valyrian. Look, I didn't have a perfect memory and Valyrian names were painfully hard to remember, fortunately this one had a nickname.
The Red Queen.
An apt name since the great she-dragon was deep red, not a muddled red but a sparkling scarlet as if she was a living river of rubies. The membranes of her wings a muted but warm coral pink and her horns, claws and crest were light copper.
She was beautiful and terrifying as she sized us up with vague disinterest as she sat curled up in her rock-hewn stable within the Pit. She had a great loop of steel around her neck, but the great slack of the chain made it clear that she could end us if so inclined in a heartbeat. It didn't seem terribly likely as her great golden eyes seemed to communicate a shocking level of apathy to our existence.
I must have been gaping because Rhaenys laughed as she kneeled and patted me on the back.
"She's quite the beauty isn't she lad?" She said with an ear to ear smile (not for the first time I wondered how the hell did so many Valyrians had perfect teeth).
I collected myself and nodded, "pretty."
"Hah! Hear that Meleys? Our little prince thinks that you're a pretty one!" She shouted at the great wyrm. For the dragon's part it only opened its lidded eyes and moved just so slightly to acknowledge its rider before closing its eyes completely and dismissing the tiny intruders on her napping.
"Now if only she wasn't as idle as a boulder most the time!" The disturbingly cool woman said as she roared in laughter while clapping her hands to her trim waist, I honestly suspected a bit too much Baratheon sneaked into her. She looked over to where Rhaenyra was making her best attempt to look patient despite her fidgeting.
"Now enough about this old bitch and her dragon," she said with a chuckle, "I believe the princess will be wanting to show you her dragon."
Rhaenyra lit up immediately as she clutched my arm and began dragging me away as fast as my little legs could move much to the imminent amusement of Rhaenys as she walked along with us.
"Just you wait Gaem! Syrax is great! She's not very big but she is cute, fast and smart! You will surely love her!" Honestly for all her petulance and impulsiveness, I found Rhaenyra to be a pleasant child. A bit of a brat but to me at least she typically seemed well-meaning and at least tried to be kind. That did not really comfort me much because I knew very well what she had grown up to be in another world and more importantly I knew that good children do not necessarily become good people.
"I gotta say princess," Rhaenys opined as she casually kept pace with us with her long legs (not that I was looking of course), "You're taking quite the shining to your brothers."
Rhaenyra's expression soured a little at that, her entire body language changing and her tone becoming almost robotic, "Perhaps, truthfully I would say that my half-brother Aegon takes more after her grace than my royal father."
So, it's already begun. Lovely.
Rhaenys noticed the change in mood as bent down and patted the princess on the back, "I wouldn't worry so much about that. Twins tend to be of the same cloth and you like this one well enough, don't you?"
Rhaenyra lit up again at that as she looked back to me warmly, "Gaem is great! He is nothing like they told me a brother would be, he is not loud, he does not cry and he likes me. A Targaryen through and through, barely a drop of Hightower in him!"
"Careful girl," Rhaenys said with a suddenly calm expression as Rhaenyra realized what she said and blushed.
"Careful with what, Princess Rhaenys?" Criston Cole said, speaking for the first time in a while and with more than a drop of hostility. I was sad to hear him speak, I had rather hoped that he had fallen down a random hole into hell.
"Oh, put your prick back into your pants, Ser," Rhaenys said with dismissive snort. "You and I both know she can't be saying things like that publicly."
The kingsguard looked more than a little crossed for a moment at the comment but eventually dipped his head in acceptance, "Perhaps, but we both know that the children present a problem for our princess."
"Hoh? The rumors are true then about Otto?" Rhaenys said with interest as Rhaenyra's expression grew a bit angrier and her steps became more like stomps.
For my part, anyone that spoke ill of my alleged grandfather was alright in my books.
"Everyday he grows more insistent," Ser Criston said with a dark expression. As interested as I was I vaguely hoped that a dragon would pop out of nowhere and eat his head.
"I wouldn't concern myself a great deal about that, if I know Viserys and I do. He will not change his mind. Man is as stubborn as an auroch when it suits him," she said casually. So, talking shit about the king in front of a kingsguard, I wondered if Rhaenys understood what fear was as a thing.
…Then again, if he did do something then Meleys might eat him... Regrettably, the Cole lacked the necessary sort of blind loyalty, to the king anyway.
"It would be helpful if Lord Velaryon were to more visibly express his support…" Criston said leadingly.
Rhaenys sighed, "That won't be happening anytime soon, I'm afraid. He's still nursing his pride with pirate's blood. I would be with him truth be told, if it weren't for tradition."
Hmm, if I recalled correctly then Corlys and Daemon should be ankle deep in the Stepstones at that point.
That also explained why Rhaenys was there. I remember mention that by tradition a rider always had to live in the pit and I guessed that she would be the only one available with her children still not being fully grown and Daemon off stroking his ego by incinerating men that couldn't really fight back.
"Perhaps something may be done to recapture his interest?" Criston asked. For all that I hoped that a spear would emerge from the ground to impale him, I had to give the man credit for trying to aid his patron's cause.
I knew he would eventually turn on her, but still.
It also seemed like their politicking had finally shorn away Rhaenyra's patience.
"Can we please stop?" She asked and for just a moment her face seemed like it had gained a decade in fatigue, "I appreciate your support my dear knight, but can may we just leave such matters aside for today?"
Cole's annoyingly handsome features softened a bit, "Of course, my princess."
Rhaenys smiled, "Good thing, there is Syrax now."
She pointed at the cavern we had just stopped before. Holy crap that place was huge, it had taken the entire conversation to move three gates down.
Rhaenyra quickly forgot the conversation as she charged into the cavern with Cole trailing her.
"Come on now lad," Rhaenys picked me up and followed them in. "Let's not keep your sister waiting."
I really wished she hadn't picked me up because sweet god damn it was hard to focus on dragons from that position.
Seeming to remember me, Rhaenyra ran back towards us, "Here she is, my Syrax!"
Sitting in the pit and eating a freshly roasted lamb is a dragon considerably smaller than Meleys with brilliant greenish-yellow scales and ivory white horns and claws. She was also more thickly built than the red queen and slightly more active in her movements than her larger peer which seemed rather in line with what scraps of information I could recall about her. Said information however did little to nothing to communicate how uncanny the resemblance was between the dragon and a certain cat eating a certain Italian dish…
"Pretty," I noted. To be fair she was, so far all of the dragons I had seen were gorgeous creatures. Hilariously less badass than I imagined, but still pretty.
That made Rhaenyra light up happily, flashing a thousand-Dondarrion smile at me.
"You want to come flying with me?" She said enthusiastically.
'Hell to the no' would have been my immediate answer but I figured an enthusiastic nod would earn me some brownie points, no way in hell they'd allow that so there was no risk.
"Have you gone mad girl!" Rhaenys hissed. I internally breathed a sigh of relief.
"Why not?" Rhaenyra asked in confusion. "Syrax is harmless and I have ridden her since I was seven!"
"Seven girl, there's a bit of a difference between two and seven!" Rhaenys tried to explain to the girl.
Rhaenyra sighed in defeat and cleared her throat awkwardly.
"That is very fair, perhaps a ride would be acceptable? With me of course and just around the Pit?"
Rhaenys scratched her head for a moment and looked at Garfield-made-a-dragon. "A ride should not be an issue then."
And so, after some coaching and more than a little bit of cursing, they managed to get one of the saddles onto the dragon. I mentally took notes the entire time on the process, it took forty-plus men who seemed entirely too used to getting the gear onto a breed of creature which was renowned for its barbeque skills. The entire affair took so long that by the time the saddle was fully strapped on Syrax had already finished her meal and was eyeing the human workers with an expression best summarized as 'really?'
What was hilarious was the tall step ladder used for climbing onto the dragon. Which the princess climbed to settled herself onto the saddle with practiced ease and put me on her lap after I was passed to her.
She pulled some of the chains that I noticed were hanging loose around the saddle and carefully wrapped them around my belt.
"Be sure to fasten him tight," Rhaenys said as she stood beside the dragon, I noticed that Syrax edged away slightly at her approach. It was to be expected according to Barth. He noted that dragons seemed to identify a rider as its dragon on some level, he was not quite sure how, but he speculated that it might either be explained by scent or perhaps some more mystical sense. Smaller dragons tended to shy away from larger dragons unless forced to engage.
"Of course," Rhaenyra said as she finished adjusting the chains.
One of the servants passed her a dragon-whip as she prepared to spur Syrax. The whips were specially designed to my understanding, they were strong enough to draw a reaction from a dragon but generally produced less of an impact than one would expect. It was never bright to hit a dragon too hard regardless of training and heel spurs were not exactly practical given the elevated nature of the saddles.
It took some prodding to get Syrax moving but when she did… It was anticlimactic.
I had ridden a camel a few times in my past life and I could safely say that it was a heart-pounding experience compared to the slow crawl of Syrax.
I dutifully chuckled and giggled in joy but it felt incredibly dull as she waddled her way out of her cell and begun to make her loop around the pit.
At least it was relaxing, in fact it was so slow that I began to contemplate how smoothly things had gone so far.
Unfortunately, the general ease of the day ended when we went by the ended when we passed by through the mouth of the pit.
When we did, I quickly decided that it had not been a particularly bright idea to go along with Rhaenyra's impulse to come to the pit.
Waiting for us was a tall giant of a man in full plate armor with a longsword strapped to his side. He was intimidating enough on his own, but I suspected that it wasn't him that had Rhaenyra stiff with fear, I strongly suspected that it had far more to do with the veritable ocean of gold-cloaked men behind him. Rhaenyra probably didn't think this through, although to be fair she was twelve. Not that it boded well for her (or more importantly my) future.
I cursed Cole to a hundred Blood Eagles for allowing the mess to transpire in the first place!
I also fought hard to suppress the rage and confusion I felt boiling inside me as I starred at the man in full plate. Full plate. I really wished that Westeros could very up and decide what time period it was in because that armor looked distinctly sixteenth cent-
I shook my head, time and place, I reminded myself. Time and place.
"Your Grace," the all-to-familiar giant greeted as he began to move towards us.
"I-I-I did not think-, "She stuttered.
"No, your grace," the giant said as he walked up to us, his voice was rumbling and deliberate like the pace of hammer strikes on an anvil. Now that I had a closer look I could see that the man was possessed of incredibly plain features with short-shorn brown hair and a light beard around a mouth that looked as if it was locked in a perpetual frown. Giant or no the man must have had balls of steel because he completely ignored the she dragon as he locked his stern eyes onto the young princess. "You did not."
"Lord Strong-," Rhaenyra stuttered as she scampered off Syrax (who lazily retreated into the Pit with minimal prodding, holy crap the records underestimated how cat-like these dragons were).
"The king has summoned you back to the Keep, immediately," He said without compromise and pointed to the litter.
That did not bode well.
Neither did the dead-eyed terror etched into Rhaenyra's face as we quietly rode back to Keep in utter silence.
Not well at all.
As was my custom when cornered and terrified my brain went into overdrive, Rhaenyra was in deep shit.
At the very least twenty meters deep.
I was probably fine given that at my age I could probably get out of murder with a flap of the lashes and some giggles but Rhaenyra was old enough to know better (although god-damn they expected a lot).
That was not good for me. While I could totally see her deserving punishment for being so damned reckless, allowing it would be directly detrimental to my survival.
If she got burned for it, that might encourage her to distance herself from me or worse they might forbid her from going anywhere near me and if I could gleam one thing from the sources it was that neither Rhaenyra nor Aegon were hard to antagonize.
The moment I took my eye of either they could be quickly turned to feeding me to a dragon and given what happened originally, there was no reason to assume that they would hesitate.
I needed to go into full damage-control mode or this could seriously be grounds for some problems later on (and in Westeros could cause trouble always meant would cause trouble) if I let her take the brunt of the Alicent or worse, Viserys.
There was just one problem, one big problem. In that I was two, what the hell could I reasonably do in a situation like that?
As we arrived and got down from the litter I saw the Master of Laws signal to two of his goldcloaks.
I did not know Lord Strong well from either the books or the few times I had seen him from court. But I could easily see that bending the rules was not exactly in his nature.
"Take the prince back to his rooms," He said dismissively.
That was not his brightest move in retrospect because it gave me something of an epiphany.
I latched onto Rhaenyra's leg like my life depended on it.
Which to be fair, it probably did.
When they reached for my I shook off the hand that clasped onto my shoulder.
"No," I hissed. My epiphany was rather simple.
I was two, I didn't have to be reasonable.
"Come along now my lord," one of them tried to grab me again.
"No," I shook the hand off my shoulder.
"Come now you bra-" One lost his patience as he reached towards me.
Perfect.
"Touch me again and you will lose that hand," I snarled. Fun little legal tidbit, laying hands on a royal without the express consent of the king was not exactly good for your health.
At least I hoped.
My threat seemed to have worked as the two men froze completely. I wasn't quite sure if it was because my threat had any wait or if it was because I forgot to distort my speech well enough to sound like a two-year-old.
They looked at the Strong in askance, no doubt concerned that what I said might have any weight. Given how easy it was to get killed for something in this world, I didn't fault them. I was relieved internally, that had been an empty threat (probably), I was not exactly going to go about lopping hands off for fun, but my life very much felt on the line here.
The Strong for his part looked at me with one brow ever so slightly raised. Crap, I forgot that he quick on the uptake.
"Very well, bring the Prince with us. His grace stressed expedience," I had gotten my way but I suspected that I had just added more to the 'something is wrong with that child camp.'
I looked up at Rhaenyra as we followed the men and much to my pleasure saw that she was smiling down at me even if she was still pale.
"Coming along to protect me?" She asked.
I nodded up at her.
Rhaenys chuckled a little as she strolled next to us, "Well girl. It seems that you have yourself a brave little knight."
Brave, taking calculated risks to save my hide down the road, synonyms really.
"My little knight then," Rhaenyra beamed down at me. I noticed that Cole stiffened at her words. Now if only he had missed a step, tripped and broken his neck, I could write today off as a win regardless of what may happen.
Much to my relief, we weren't led to the throne room (of doom) and were instead led to a smaller chamber. What I saw within however quickly led me to reevaluate that relief.
Four figures were seated along a long table. The king, my mother, Ser Otto 'the dick' Hightower and Runciter.
The old man just looked relief when he saw that I was still in one piece instead of many burned and partially digested bits.
Ser Otto was eyeing Rhaenyra like a lion eyeing a particularly dimwitted baby covered in grease. I was fairly sure that I saw him licking his teeth.
Alicent was (most understandably) looking like it was only her heavily pregnant belly keeping her from leaping over the table to strangle the life out of Rhaenyra.
Frankly those were all expected reactions, it was the last one that really concerned me.
Viscerys was to my knowledge a hedonistic, lazy, jelly-spined excuse for a king that knew about as much about child-rearing as a particularly neglectful panda. Frankly I expected him to let this go the most easily dealt with of all the actors present. I seemed to have been mistaken.
I was fairly sure that all-consuming rage was a rare expression on him.
I might have miscalculated.