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Chapter 128

Daenerys XX

She glided through the halls softly, feeling like a ghost in her ancestral home of the Red Keep. Though it was still filled with nobles, there was a noticeable drop in the number of people wandering the halls. Aemon had ridden out with Lord Velaryon—the master of ships—Lords Gerion and Kevan Lannister, Prince Oberyn Martell, and their soldiers. The Unsullied, her bloodriders, Ser Torrhen Karstark, and Ser Preston Greenfield remained to guard her.

The only dragon that remained was Rhaellon. Drogon and Rhaegal had followed Aemon as they were bid. There was an ache in her heart where Drogon should be, leaving her unnerved and fidgeting. He's fine. They'll be fine, she repeatedly told herself, but it was harder to think that was true when for the first few nights, Rhaellon bellowed mournfully in a way that she had never done before. Daenerys was convinced it was her expression of longing for her brothers. Daenerys made it a point to sit with Rhaellon every morning to comfort them both, but there was still a hollow place in her heart.

She turned over every morning expecting Aemon to be there and found nothing. The space where he would lay felt so cold. Though they had only been married for four months, he'd become so familiar to her. She'd never felt this hollow even after her brother's death. Though she was unfamiliar with the solace of prayer, she still silently wished every night for Aemon's safe return.

Dany stopped at the door to the hall and stared at it. She would be managing court now. Alone. She twisted her fingers in a tassel on her dress, caught herself, and smoothed it out. She was a Targaryen. There was no reason for her to be nervous. However, it wasn't she who had cultivated this following. It was Aemon. She hoped to be the beloved khaleesi to these people as much as her khalasar, but it wasn't her actions that aligned them with her. When she'd first come to King's Landing, Lady Margaery Stark had eagerly invited her into her inner circle—clearly aware of Aemon's intentions to court Dany—and introduced her to the ladies of the Reach, her cousins, Lady Sansa, and Lady Shireen.

Though Margaery had done her best to make Dany feel welcome, she had continued to feel out of sorts. She hadn't grown up merrily sipping at tea and gossiping about the latest scandal. She'd been forced to hide in ratholes and the occasional lovely home. She'd made do with dirty dresses and frayed clothing, forced to scrounge and scrape by on the kindness of others. None of the ladies in the Red Keep had ever known a day of hardship in their lives. She'd honestly felt more at home with the orphans and other denizens of Flea Bottom despite the echo of her brother's voice insisting that he was king and she was a princess.

Still, she knew of no other means of fostering allies and friendship, so she continued with the tea parties, papering her enjoyment with quiet smiles and persistent nodding. It was only as she was going into her third month after knowing some of these women that she was starting to see the tea parties bear fruit other than apparent friendship.

She glanced out the window in longing as she caught the silhouette of Rhaellon swooping into the sea to fill her belly. Though her child was lonely now, it was only temporary. Aemon, Drogon, and Rhaegal would return. Dany intended for them to return to a warm welcome after reliably ruling in his stead.

Drawing in a deep breath, she caught the eye of a servant at the door, smiled at him, and nodded. He flushed at her acknowledgment and reached down to turn the handle.

The door opened and the master of ceremonies declared, "All rise for her Grace, Queen Daenerys Targaryen!"

Now that the nobility was depleted, Daenerys had insisted that court was to be open for the smallfolk. By her orders, the gold cloaks and Unsullied spent the morning herding any interested smallfolk onto the grounds and into the hall. This had never been available to most of them and they openly gaped in astonishment at the walls and adornments. Although many of them were unclean in ragged clothing, they still fell to their knees as she ascended the throne.

She quietly sighed to herself as she mounted the steps, remembering that Aemon had insisted that one day the throne would be rebuilt to seat two. Unfortunately, since the kingdom's coffers were depleted from the usurper's reign and preparations for the Long Night, it was considered to be too low of a priority to be done anytime soon. Still, Dany longed for the day when she could seat herself and look over to see Aemon smiling back at her.

For now, she sat on the throne alone. Her brother had always described the throne of swords as a monument to the Targaryens, both elegant and monstrous. Given what she knew of the history of her family, it was an unsettlingly fitting description. But it was the symbol of their rule. Lady Wendwater had mentioned in one of her tea parties that the throne could only hold those it deemed worthy of ruling. Those who were not worthy cut themselves repeatedly on the myriad of swords. It sounded like mere rumor to Daenerys, but she had yet to cut herself, and she hoped that boded well for the impression that people had of her.

"Your Grace, the first petitioner is a bard. He has written a song in her Grace's honor," the master of ceremonies proclaimed.

"Send him forward," Dany declared, though she felt herself wilt a little on the inside. Nearly every time she and Aemon had held court, there had always been some enterprising bard or poet who had dared to wax eloquent. Aemon had always grumbled that it was one of the misfortunes of ruling.

This man was dressed more like a jester than any bard she had seen. He wore tights of mixed bright colors. His doublet was a bright red with yellow embroidery and sewn with white stars. He was a clean-shaven young man with a bright smile, which set her to ease, and he held his mandore like one would a child.

"What is your name?"

"Your Grace, I am most grateful to tell you that my name is Furanis the Foolish Bard."

"The Foolish Bard?" she asked, her lips quirking.

"Quite. I have indeed composed a song in honor of his Grace's cunning, her Grace's beauty, and the hope of the future your babe will bring to the kingdoms," he replied with a deep bow.

"Let's hear it then," Dany said, injecting as much happiness as she could muster. She glanced over at Ser Torrhen. They'd had trouble with bards attempting to monopolize time at court, so all were gently escorted away after five minutes.

The tune started jauntily, which was a far cry from the slow songs that struck morose tones, as if her beauty was somehow tragic. This one danced a jig and sang Aemon's praises for uprooting Renly and then seeking the hand of the most stunning queen these shores had ever seen. Then he transitioned to speaking of the babe within her womb, how strong and intelligent a son would be or how gracious and beautiful a daughter the babe would make.

"The child shall light the way,

The way for all whom the Seven pray,

The dragons will battle the ice and turn winter away!"

He finished with a flourish and bowed. Dany clapped politely. Although she felt the lyrics left something to be desired, it had been the most entertaining song they had sat through up to that point. It was disappointing that Aemon wasn't there to enjoy it with her.

"Bravo! Well done, my good man. I know if the king were here, he would be singing your praises. I hope mine will do. Please visit again sometime. That was quite enjoyable."

Furanis the Foolish Bard beamed at her, bowed deeply, and skipped out of the court.

Once he was gone, her hand ghosted over her steadily rounding stomach. Since it was uncertain if the king would be back in time for the birth, they had decided to announce at a feast prior to him leaving that the queen was with child. She had enjoyed the celebration of her pregnancy more than the celebration of her wedding to Khal Drogo. Though she had to sit through an endless stream of nobility wishing her well, no one had died. She thought fondly of much of her time with Khal Drogo, but she did not miss the death and destruction that he left in his wake, particularly against the slaves within the khalasar.

However, because her pregnancy was announced so early, she now attended every meal and every tea session with a food taster in tow. Though neither she nor Aemon liked the idea of subjecting an innocent to death by poison, Aemon was adamant that they shouldn't take any chances. She had reluctantly agreed but took heart in the fact that the taster was well-paid and enjoyed good meals outside of hers.

The Foolish Bard's song, unfortunately, played on her heart strings. Would she have another handsome boy? Or was this child destined to be a girl? It hardly mattered to her which would eventually greet her at the end, but she still wouldn't know for another six months or so. The wait was interminable!

The grand maester assured her that she was past the most dangerous part of the pregnancy, but there was always a chance she could suffer a miscarriage. When she wasn't at court, attending her tea parties, or seeing Rhaellon, she was abed. She took the opportunity to continue reading her family's history. Judging by how many repeated names there were in her family tree, it was clearly tradition to name children for their forebears. She'd already named one of her dragons for her mother and it didn't seem fair to make a daughter share it. The baby was still months away, though, so she would consider her options. In the meantime, her ladies-in-waiting, particularly Missandei, went to great efforts to entertain her, but she was growing bored of whiling away her hours.

Court was a wonderful sojourn from her time abed, no matter how uncomfortable and droll some of the petitioners could be.

A party of women from the sewing guild bestowed upon her gifts of wool and cotton for her child.

A merchant accused another merchant of sabotage.

The next petitioner was a ship captain with a patch over his eye and a grizzled gray beard. His skin was roughened and brown from his time on the ocean, but the clothes he wore to court were made of silk and supple uncracked leather. He bowed deeply, then stood upright and said, "Your Grace, I have news from Essos."

Dany smiled at him and leaned forward eagerly. While she knew little outside of the homes and hovels she'd grown up in, she had been around its many city-states. It felt familiar. "What news do you have for me?" she asked.

"There is another dragon. Not of the Targaryen sort. He's said to be a Blackfyre," the man said.

She frowned. She'd seen the name Blackfyre in her history books, though she had yet to read the chronicles in detail. While traveling on the Rhaella to Westeros, Ser Barristan had regaled her with tales from his time as a kingsguard. The Blackfyres had contested the line of succession and felt they were owed more. Ser Barristan himself had fought Maelys Blackfyre in combat and killed him. While that hadn't ended the war, it had been the death knell not unlike when her brother Rhaegar had fallen to the usurper.

"Is he now? Do we know the truth of the matter?" Dany asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Can't say, Your Grace. Those who meet him either join him or die. These are just the tales that I've heard in the likes of Pentos, Braavos, and Tyrosh," he replied.

She frowned. "It's hard to take stock in rumors. Perhaps others have led you astray because we've heard no such news here."

He appeared startled by her doubt and stayed quiet for a moment. "He raids many a small town and village. The residents are forced to flee to escape death. Those same people seek passage between the ports. I've carried a few of them myself. I'm certain they speak the truth."

Dany considered him. It seemed foolhardy to dismiss him out of hand. Had she and her own khalasar not been like these poor citizens fleeing? Desperate to be believed and be given a helping hand?

"Very well, tell us more about this … Blackfyre," she probed.

"I will, Your Grace, but first, I require a reward," he said, the avarice surfacing in his eyes.

Of course, she thought. Though she was loathe to think of him, Jorah had often impressed upon her that information came with a price. This captain had told her enough to entice her and needed payment for more.

"And what sort of reward do you require?" Dany replied cautiously.

"If I may, I require a kiss of your hand and a hundred gold Dragons," he said.

She raised her eyebrows and the audience murmured amongst themselves. By this point, she was used to the smallfolk clamoring to touch her, as if they believed her to be a vision not of this world.

"I have no objection to the kiss on my hand, but we have no way of knowing the veracity of the information you seek. You yourself said these are the words of scared people driven from their homes. While I am inclined to believe those who are less fortunate, they are not here to speak for themselves. You are. What benefit is this for them?" she asked plainly. After allowing Captain Lucia to speak poisoned honey in her ears, she was less inclined to take the word of just anyone. He could be embellishing the story and my paying for half-truths could entice every charlatan to spin a tale for the court, she thought ruefully.

She had never felt quite so lost and confused as when Ser Barristan had found her and spoken of her ancestors. While much of what he said was glowing, it was still different from what Viserys had told her. Her father was not a good man who ruled with grace, but a monster who threatened to murder an entire city. Her mother was just as lovely as Viserys had said, but her spirit had been bowed and rent by her father still. Her brother Rhaegar had absconded with a she-wolf and put a child in her despite having a wife, which contrasted sharply to Viserys' version where the whore wolf had seduced their brother into committing his crimes. Now that she'd been able to read more about her family's history, it felt more and more like Viserys had spun a fairy tale. She was determined not to be taken in by such nonsense again.

The captain became silent for a time. "The man joined the mercenary company The Seven Fires at the age of five-and-ten. He worked his way up the ranks, slew the leadership, and repurposed the company into his own personal army. I have yet more to give, but that should steer you true."

"Very well, I will be sure to look into it. Return here tomorrow and we will have our answer," she said.

The captain looked like he wished to protest, but he merely bowed his head and traipsed out of court. From her position on the dais, she'd caught the movement of a woman with red hair ducking out a side entrance, but was then distracted by Lord Willas and Lady Olenna stirring in the front row. Once they'd caught her eye, Lady Olenna made a gesture that they'd like to meet with her. Daenerys frowned pensively at them, but then turned to give the nod to the master of ceremonies to dismiss the court. Everyone curtsied and bowed as she walked back out the side entrance once more with her bloodriders and the members of her kingsguard with her.

Willas and Olenna followed her through the side door, but then muttered, "Not here."

"The king's solar then," she said, leading the way.

They bustled along at an urgent pace.

Dany led them through the door and let the kingsguard shut it. She then went to sit behind Aemon's desk; her lower back ached too much to remain standing. "I take it you're not pleased with my decision to send this captain away?"

"Please don't mistake us, Your Grace. If this were any other situation, I would concur wholeheartedly with your decision. As you said, anyone could come claiming anything and spin a tall tale. It behooves us to be skeptical," Willas assured her.

"But this is about a Blackfyre," Olenna interjected. "Are you familiar with the history?"

"I'm afraid not. Much of what I know, I learned from Ser Barristan. I have yet to reach that point in my readings," Daenerys replied, sighing in frustration.

"Well, the Blackfyres were nothing but trouble and came very close to winning the throne. Much too close frankly. I think even a whisper of their presence should be of great concern to the crown," Olenna said in her usual brusque manner.

"But there's nothing to say that this is anything but a whisper," Daenerys said.

Willas and Olenna glanced at each other. Then Willas said, "We have … our own sources that we consult for information. This is not the first we've heard of this Blackfyre. Our information indicates that he mounted an attack on a city near the southern coast called Covora. While he didn't manage to take it, they were weakened considerably and left unstable in his wake."

Dany felt a hot flash of anger, then drew in a deep breath to reel in her temper. "Why was I not informed of this then?"

"That's what the Master of Whisperers is for, Your Grace," Olenna said, giving her a pointed look.

Varys, Dany thought, narrowing her eyes. In her conversations with Aemon, he had occasionally expressed frustration that Varys did not seem as forthcoming as he ought to be. This seemed to prove his suspicions.

"Very well, I shall summon the captain to return," Daenerys said, rising from her seat.

"Best not to delay, Your Grace. Given this is the first we've heard of him, he could … meet with an unfortunate end if we don't find him now," Willas said.

"Very well, I will send the Unsullied out to escort this man back to the Red Keep to have a private audience with the queen and her advisors and a promise of his requested reward," she assented.

"I think that is ideal, Your Grace," Willas said.

"Ser Torrhen, please send the Unsullied out to find the ship captain with information on the Blackfyre. I would like to reconsider his offer."

"Yes, Your Grace," Torrhen replied with a winning smile and hurried off.

Dany kept the door open and said to the two Tyrells, "When the Unsullied return with this man, I will summon you. Perhaps with the information you have, we'll be able to verify the truth and not simply reward lies."

"Very wise, Your Grace," Olenna agreed, with a courteous nod. The words were spoken so plainly, Dany couldn't be sure if it was one of her usual wry comments. Once they left, she locked the solar back up and returned to the room she shared with Aemon.

Missandei was there to greet her with a dazzling smile. "Care for a game of cyvasse?"

"That would be wonderful, Missandei," Dany replied, and they took their seats for another butchered game.

It didn't take long for Dany to laugh as Missandei took a circuitous route around the board, insisting it was a path to victory. They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Daenerys moved to get up, but Missandei said, "I'll get it. You just stay seated."

Ser Torrhen was at the door and he bowed. "Apologies, Your Grace, but we can't seem to find Captain Boderick. He hasn't made an appearance on his ship, the Salty Siren, and the Unsullied looked into several taverns and did not find him."

"Thank you, Ser Torrhen. Would you have Lady Olenna and Lord Willas Tyrell summoned? I need to speak with them. We'll meet in the king's solar again."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Daenerys closed the door for a moment and leaned against it, rubbing at her temple.

"Would you like some tea, Your Grace?" Missandei asked.

"Thank you but not right now." She let the silence hover for a moment and then said, "I may have made a mistake dismissing a ship captain who might have valuable information. The Tyrells are concerned he might be killed for it. Their fears are starting to look less unreasonable."

Missandei raised her eyebrows. "But you didn't send him to his death on purpose?"

"Certainly not! After Captain Lucia, I was determined not to be taken for a fool and hang my heart onto false words."

Missandei placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It wasn't motivated by cruelty then?"

Dany smiled to herself. "No, it was not, but perhaps out of ignorance."

"I have confidence that you will be a great queen. But you've only just started."

"Thank you for your kind words," Daenerys said, squeezing her friend's hand in support. "I best be going now. We will return to the cyvasse game before the night is over."

"Of course," Missandei said.

Daenerys walked once more to Aemon's solar and found the Tyrells waiting patiently outside. She pushed open the door and they followed her through.

"Unfortunately, it seems our Captain Boderick has disappeared. My Unsullied are unable to locate him."

Both Willas and his grandmother furrowed their brows in consternation.

"This bodes ill," Olenna murmured.

"I can send the gold cloaks out to look more thoroughly," Willas offered.

Dany considered him. She was still quite partial to the Unsullied because they obeyed her and her alone. Their reputation was such that they were essentially untouchable and incapable of being bribed. Aemon had spoken of the gold cloaks with high regard but mentioned that they had a troubled past and it took some time to clean the ranks of the rabble. "Can they be trusted?" she asked.

Willas gave her a reassuring smile. "I understand your reluctance, Your Grace, and I will put my best men in charge."

"Very well. Please bring me Captain Boderick of the Salty Siren for questioning," she said.

He bowed and thumped out of the room as quickly as he could.

Daenerys returned again to Aemon's chair and sat in it with a sigh. Olenna watched her with a critical eye, making Dany certain she disapproved of how this affair was being handled. She can believe what she wants. I will admit to a mistake if she insists on assigning blame and I will learn from it, she thought with some finality.

"Is the babe giving you much trouble?" Olenna asked.

Dany blinked at her and then put her hand to her stomach once more. "Less trouble than my last one. I find it easier to eat, though it doesn't appear to care much for spicy seasoning."

Olenna chuckled. "That's all too familiar. Do you have everything you need?"

"I believe so. My handmaids pamper me but not so much that I feel like a piece of pottery that will shatter at the lightest touch. We established that early on," Daenerys said, thinking back fondly on those days before Viserys took them away.

"If you ever need an old woman's ear with regard to rearing and childbirth, I am here, Your Grace," Lady Olenna offered.

Dany stared at her. While she was certain she could count on Lady Olenna to be among their strongest allies, she didn't think she'd seen true courtesy from the woman. The occasional times that she attended Daenerys' tea parties, she all too often insulted the other attending ladies to their faces without them realizing or often being too polite to say otherwise. There were many times Dany found it amusing, but it could become a hindrance. The last tea party, Dany had been particularly moody and she ended up sternly chiding Olenna for her remarks.

"Thank you, Lady Olenna. Your offer is very generous. I may yet seek you out, but the grand maester says that my pregnancy is progressing as expected."

"Bah, men. What do they know about carrying a baby? They can barely carry the cock between their legs."

Dany burst into giggles, then winced a little at the pain it caused.

"I daresay it may take some time to get some answers, so I will leave you to it, Your Grace," Olenna said with a courteous nod.

"Thank you." Dany said. A warmth in her chest blossomed. This was the first time she really felt something akin to friendship in Lady Olenna. For a brief moment, it eased the ache of Aemon's absence. It pleased her that she might not necessarily have to face the next few months alone.