Author's Notes: Welcome to Chapter 129! Thank you, one and all, your wonderful readers for continuing to read and support this story. We're getting into a part of the story that I think is particularly exciting and I hope you all continue to enjoy!
Thank you, Catzrko0l, for beta-ing this fic. You make this story leagues better than it would otherwise be. You're awesome!
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Chapter 129
Jaime XLVI
Both sides stared at each other on either side of the Children's Veil. The wildings were notably grimmer and quieter as they eyed up the southrons. After the duel between Jaime and the Lord of Bones, Mance convened another meeting. From what Jaime had heard, they'd simply left the Lord of Bones to wake up naturally from the fight. Rattleshirt was particularly sulky, scowling from across the way at Jaime, but when Jaime met him glare for glare, he averted his eyes to the ground like a dog put in his place.
Fitting, Jaime thought, with a curl of his lip as he thought back to the dogs that attacked him. His wrist still throbbed. Granted, it had only been a day and medicine was scant, but he now had to be concerned he'd develop gangrene and lose his hand anyway. If that happened, he would hunt down and kill the Lord of Bones regardless of the law. Though he had trained his left hand and could adapt in an instant, he was hardly keen to resort to that again. If that did happen, he would at least know the Gods enjoyed their cruel jokes.
Mance stood. "It seems you have won the duel and by virtue of that, the respect of the free folk. You fought with bravery, cunning, and great skill. Truly, it's little wonder that you're considered the best," the King-Beyond-the-Wall said.
Perhaps if I'd been smarter, I would've ended it in two swipes, Jaime thought brashly. He knew why he hadn't. Extending the fight had been calculated. It had been his every intention to put on a show. It needed to be clear that it wasn't a mere fluke that he downed the Lord of Bones in two moves. He had to dominate him, consistently and skillfully. He just wished it hadn't cost him the use of his hand or foot, even momentarily. Under normal circumstances, Jaime would've taken great pride in walking through the wilding camp by himself, but with the use of only one hand, he wasn't about to take chances. Addam or Robb or both accompanied him at all times. He made it a point to stroll through the free folk camp to take in the atmosphere and the mood. While the barrage of colors was hard on his senses and frequently left him feeling nauseous, it was informative. He saw a large amount of orange and yellow, which Jaime took to be a combination of fear and frustration. There was some green and he thought he saw a light pink once, though he had no idea what emotion that might carry. Even when he was speaking his adoration to Brienne, his voice had never been pink. It had been green or teal with his happiness.
A few wildlings had stopped him in his walk. He had a tendency to give a wide berth or snap at people with a decidedly purple tone to their words that he recognized as deceit. They were either trying to pull one over on him or lift something of value, though he walked around with little more than his knife and sword. However, if the person in question approached with a blue or teal tone, he was more receptive.
Tormund boasted his excitement in teal and he gave Jaime a hearty slap on the back as he congratulated him humiliating Rattleshirt and slaughtering some of his dogs. It was a change of pace, actually being appreciated by Tormund instead of viewed as a contender for Brienne's heart, so he would take it. It did make him wonder what Tormund and Brienne's likely meeting was going to be like. Though she was pregnant now, she wouldn't be forever, and they already planned for her to be joining him in the fight against the Long Night. He looked forward to telling Tormund she was his wife.
If Addam or Robb found the shift in his moods depending on the person he met strange, they made no mention of it. Robb did take his advice and went to the training grounds to battle with some wildlings. He took the soldiers from Winterfell as a precaution but was otherwise treated civilly.
"What does that mean then?" Jaime asked. "Will you then commit to King Aemon's wishes to abide by his laws?"
"That is still being discussed. We are interested in discussing more of the terms. You said that we would be allowed to settle the Gift. What does that mean?" Mance asked.
Jaime looked over to Stannis, who stood and stepped into the middle to speak aloud. "That means that there will be space for farming, for hunting, and for gathering. Given the numbers that we've seen here, hamlets will be designated all along the Gift for your tribes and thenns to gather and, most importantly, individual homes, eventually."
"Individual homes?" one of the wildlings asked.
"Yes, for families."
"Where are these homes?" Tormund asked.
"They need to be built. The land is untouched," Stannis replied.
"We could live just as wild as we do now!" another shouted. "What need have we for homes?"
"You will have homes because I will not tolerate the coveting of another's," Stannis growled. "Ne'er-do-wells and bandits are most often the types to roam. I will be the lord of the Gift, overseeing your transition and you will do as I command."
Jaime watched the wildlings closely. Some of them only became more sullen and resistant, but a few kept glancing back to him and averting their eyes. They were properly cowed, but Jaime wondered how long that might last without him there to be a threat of force. When Aemon had described Mance's effort to break through the Wall, it had been brave but futile. Even with the Night's Watch hopelessly outnumbered, the wildings were an unskilled and disorganized lot. Once Stannis had swooped in with his men on cavalry, their lines had broken like waves on a beach, disappearing into foam. While Stannis himself might not have the greatest skill in fighting, he had some of the most disciplined soldiers, and they would whip the wildlings into line.
"While I don't care much for the weak cunts who live south of the Wall, I'm for it," Tormund said aloud, looking surprisingly grim and sober. Much more so than at the end when he ran into battle with the raucous whoop at the thrill of the battle. "The Others have been encroaching on our territory, slaughtering entire villages, and turning the corpses of our families against us for a few years now. This is not a tide we can turn back."
"You would kneel? You would kneel to the dragon cunt who couldn't even come here himself?" Harma said with a snarl.
"Do you expect the king to personally bless you with his presence in this shithole?" Jaime asked. "He has far greater concerns than just you." He smirked, his amusement tenfold as he was certain Aemon was once more watching the proceedings through Ghost. He reached out and ruffled the dire wolf's ears.
Harma growled at him but said nothing back.
"Fookin' kneelers. What do we need a king for?" tthe Lord of Bones grumbled just loud enough to be heard.
"To save your worthless hide," Jaime shot back. "That's what this is. The Wall is designed to keep the Night King and the Others out of the Seven Kingdoms. You agree to King Aemon's terms, you and your kin can look forward to life. You stay here, you'll have only death to await you."
"Why is that cunt going to lord over us? What about Mance."
Stannis sneered, "I am Lord Stannis Baratheon, formerly of Dragonstone. And should you agree, you will grant me due deference or I will have your tongue!"
The stunned silence that followed Stannis' declaration nearly made Jaime burst into laughter. He smoothed over his face and said, "Mance is a traitor who abandoned his post at the Night's Watch. However, the king is lenient. He will grant you clemency and allow you to pass south of the Wall with the rest of you. But he will never be lord."
Mance cocked his head with interest but otherwise showed neither concern nor delight at the proclamation.
"We've managed this far!"
"How much further?" Tormund shouted back. "The minute my boy died, he opened his eyes and they were blue with the Night King's magic! He attacked me and I was forced to behead him. He didn't deserve that! None of our children do!"
Mance watched the arguing and said, "We still need time to consider."
"The king won't wait forever and I have much less patience than he. We leave tomorrow," Jaime announced. He glanced at the others. While Robb looked uncertain, Addam and Stannis nodded in agreement. They departed and left the wildlings to their debate.
Hours later, as a dinner of venison was being served amongst the southron soldiers, Mance appeared. Jaime didn't bestow upon him any kind of greeting, but he did move to make room next to him. "Feel free to join us for our meal," he offered blandly.
"I thank you for your hospitality," Mance replied with equal roteness. "While the reaction to your presence is still mixed, I am grateful for you speaking it plainly and not dressing it up with pretty words."
"The stakes are too high for word games," Jaime replied. "We need to be all in agreement about the threat of the Night King if we're going to stand a chance."
"You would still abandon the free folk north of the Wall?" Mance asked.
"We would. It wouldn't do to be fighting a war on two fronts. Might as well make the Wall a big one if you insist," Jaime said threateningly. "As I'm sure you're aware, the king has turned his attention to making the Wall stocked and properly manned. You would not be greeted with a depleted Night's Watch, but one rebounding."
"I think it would take years for the king to find the men to man each castle and guard each post," Mance said, his voice back to a calculating mauve.
"It would. But can you get every man, woman, and child over the Wall?" Jaime taunted. They both knew full well that he couldn't.
"Living under a king isn't the end of the world," Robb interjected after an unsettled silence.
"The free folk haven't had happy run-ins with most southrons," Mance replied.
"Were the wildli-er, free folk equally as receptive?" Robb said earnestly. "It's time that the free folk and us southrons settled our differences."
Mance chuckled. "You speak with the unending naivety of a boy."
Robb sighed. "Perhaps I do. But the king's reach is not all that far, even from King's Landing. Yes, we must obey his orders and carry out his justice, but not even King Robert had many demands of my father."
"Easy there, Robb. You might not feel it yet, but that will change," Jaime said. "Not that I think Aemon will exert much will, but you'll be able to feel his presence more often, once Rhaegal can bear a rider."
This grabbed Mance's attention. "Rhaegal?"
"It's the king's dragon," Robb said. "How long will that take, do you think?"
Jaime frowned. "Less than ten years. Which is good. The dragons are essential if we want to stand a chance against the winter."
Mance shuddered. "The Gods help us with those monsters loose."
Robb frowned at him. Jaime said nothing, though he commiserated. The dragons had made him endlessly nervous. Though his fear had diminished with the wildfire moved out of the city, he still had visions of Drogon lighting his men aflame on the Rose Road.
"Monsters or not, they may be our only hope," Jaime finished.
"Thank you for the meal. Lord Lannister, might I speak with you in private?" Mance asked.
Jaime raised his eyebrows at him. His voice had been blue and measured the entire time and it did not change with the request. It seemed unlikely that this was a ploy.
He rose and followed Mance into the trees until the lights of the camp could hardly be seen. He squinted around, looking for telltale sounds that would indicate people or animals nearby, but saw nothing. With his assessment done, he turned to Mance and cocked an eyebrow.
"The king is a warg, isn't he?" Mance said.
"What makes you think that?"
"You said that the white dire wolf—Ghost, was it?—is the king's and you insist on having him on hand for our negotiations. Some of the other free folk are beginning to suspect it as well," Mance replied.
"Yes, the king can warg. Before we departed, we arranged to use Ghost for the king to oversee the negotiations," Jaime said plainly.
Mance's gaze sharpened. "Was it also arranged for the dire wolves to come to your aid during the duel?" His voice was like a tongue of flame, orange with its accusation.
Jaime drew himself up, his temper flaring like a bull. "If the king deliberately interfered in the duel, that was not by design. I would've managed, but your Lord of Bones would have been dead rather than humiliated. I pull my punches when it matters, but not when my life is on the line."
They stared at each other for a moment, but Mance was the first to step back. "I suppose it hardly matters. I saw the duel. I would relish the opportunity to fight you as well."
A glint of excitement entered Jaime's eyes. "I welcome all challengers. However," he lifted the wrist pinned to his chest, "it will be a few weeks before I'm fighting fit once more."
"Another time then. What of the negotiations?" They began walking back towards the light of the sprawling camp.
"I leave tomorrow, whether your people agree or not. We'll leave the terms with Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, so you can take it up with him," Jaime said, watching the man closely. He hoped he could return to King's Landing with promising news, but it seemed like Mance had learned the art of keeping his secrets at the knee of Tywin Lannister.
"I trust we will meet again. With good fortune, it will be on equally friendly terms."
"For your sake, it better be."
|-The Dragon's Roar-|
Daenerys XXI
She sat back in her chair as Missandei massaged her shoulders, willing herself to relax. She hadn't been feeling well all day though she could not pinpoint the difference. Jhiqui just knowingly smiled and said, "It's the baby." This pregnancy had given her little trouble, but she was certain Rhaego had never made her feel this unbalanced. Ever since she had dismissed Captain Boderick, she'd been fretting over her decision, wondering whether she had unknowingly condemned a man to death for having dangerous information. Not that she had been aware of that. How was she supposed to know the truth from fiction? Willas and Olenna Tyrell weren't even sure what the man said was truth, but they preferred to err on the side of caution.
"While this is an unfortunate setback, Your Grace, there are always more opportunities to collect information. At the very least, you have set a precedent that you will pay for proven information, which should keep any greedy fools at bay," Olenna had said to her earlier that morning.
It did reassure her that her decision wasn't foolish. There was good reason for concern that she might be taken in by just anyone who might be peddling myths. Still, she hoped there would be good news to report to Aemon by the time he reached Lannisport.
A knock intruded the peace and Dany sighed in frustration.
"Shall I send them away?" Jhiqui asked.
"See what they would like first," Dany said.
"Willas has requested your presence and asked to use the king's solar once more," Jhiqui read from the note.
"Is there news on our captain?" she asked.
"It doesn't say."
Dany frowned. Aemon had cautioned her more than once about the walls having ears. She had seen him take care writing notes, and this sounded just the same with Willas.
"Very well, I will attend," Dany said, slowly rising from her chair.
When she arrived at Aemon's solar, she was surprised to see Willas, Olenna, and the Healer David standing outside. David was having a quiet conversation with Olenna, but it ceased as soon as they saw her, and they bowed.
Once inside, Dany asked, "Did you find Captain Boderick, Willas?"
"Yes, Your Grace, as it so happens, he's been in the company of the healer here."
"Your Grace," David said and bowed his head again. "I apologize for not bringing it to your attention sooner. I was busy in my clinic and was not aware you were searching for him. One of my proteges followed him and led him off the streets to my brothel house. From there, I was able to ask him questions about what you seek, I believe."
"Where is he?" Dany asked. "I would like to ask questions of my own."
David grimaced. "I released him when I was finished and I assume he went back to his ship."
Dany looked at Willas. "Do you think he's dead?"
"We have a ship register that shows the Salty Siren pulled anchor and went out with the morning tide. Presumably, our ship captain was on board," Willas said. "I had gold cloaks at the dock. They should've promptly escorted him back to the Red Keep." He eyed David suspiciously.
"I let him be. It hardly matters where he went," David replied with frustration. "Perhaps I can answer your questions with what I gathered from him." He opened his coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment.
"Very well, let's hear what he has to say," Dany said.
"First, I will preface the information with what I know of this man," David began.
"You knew there was a Blackfyre roaming Essos and didn't think to inform His Majesty?" Olenna asked.
David stared her down. "I am not the Master of Whisperers. I don't have to share my knowledge with you. But no, I was not aware that he claimed Blackfyre ancestry. What I know simply is that there was a young man who joined the Seven Fires mercenary company. He had a reputation for being quiet but brutal. It wasn't long before he was known as Maelyx the Malevolent.
"According to our Captain Boderick, in the last few years, he has formally murdered the Seven Fires leadership and is now its general. However, he has since declared himself Maelyx Blackfyre, son of Maelys Blackfyre, and has incorporated the Golden Company into his ranks. The Golden Company has supported the Blackfyres in the past. Rumor has it that once he heard of your dragons, he wished to seek you out," David finished with some finality.
"Maelys Blackfyre had a son?" Willas asked and shuddered.
"Apparently so. I can't imagine it was a pleasant experience for the unfortunate woman," David replied.
Dany stiffened. "Rape?"
"Perhaps. I think Lord Willas and I are both referring to the second face growing from his shoulder?"
She recoiled in horror. "A second face?"
"It's exceedingly rare, but it seems that when Maelys was in the womb, he absorbed a twin. All that remained was a face on his body."
Dany shuddered, feeling ill as she imagined the prospect.
"No greater horror," Olenna mumbled. "If only his mother had done us all a favor and dropped him into the ocean when she had a chance."
David raised his eyebrows at her, but his lips were curled with mirth. "Would you have done the same to your child?"
"I wouldn't raise a monster."
"How many women knowingly do that?" David needled.
"I can think of a few," she said, but fell silent on the matter.
David was still amused, but let her be.
"I'm curious how he inspired the loyalty of the Golden Company," Willas said, rubbing at his chin.
"An heirloom perchance?" David asked.
"Does it matter?" Dany asked. "Is this something we should be concerned about?"
"Yes," all three said simultaneously.
"Two mercenary companies is nothing to be trifled with," David said.
"And he wished to seek you out. It seems every man who has designs for the throne is keen about taking you as their wife," Olenna said, leveling a piercing gaze at her.
"Because of my dragons?" she asked, clenching her fingers as she thought back to the warlocks in the House of the Undying. I'll be dead before I allow them to take my dragons from me.
"More likely your ancestry," Willas supplied. "But the dragons are a prize to be sure."
"As I'm sure you're aware, Your Grace, women of nobility are all too often used to legitimize claims. Invaders have historically married the women or raped them to mix bloodlines to substantiate their claim," David said.
Dany drew her mouth into a thin line as fury built within her. To be reduced to a mere means of an ancestral claim was infuriating. I could have made my own way and ruled by my own right, she thought sourly. She had done away with her enemy Mirri Maz Duur and hatched her dragons. She'd outdone the warlocks when they had stolen her dragons and tried equally to steal her blood. She'd outsmarted the slavers of Astapor by taking their own slaves and releasing them onto their captors. Although she had long since learned that ten thousand Unsullied would not have been enough to take a kingdom like Westeros, she could have started small and built her way up. The possibilities were there.
But fighting for a throne had not been her goal. As soon as she had learned of Aemon, all of her efforts had been turned toward reaching him. He was her family. The last family member she had left, and she wanted nothing more than to be reunited with him. Marriage had been a secondary concern.
Olenna nodded knowingly at her. "To be the prize of uncouth beasts is every woman's greatest fear. It's important we see this coming and prepare, if not nip it in the bud entirely."
"Nip it in the bud?" David asked. "Are you suggesting assassination? Would that fall afoul of the taboo against kinslaying?"
"The Blackfyres are bastard Targaryens. Distant relations at best," Olenna shot back.
"Still a relation, no matter how distant," David insisted.
"We're certainly not going to ship our armies to Essos to fight him," Olenna pointed out. "What other course might there be?"
"Negotiation perhaps," the healer said, but Dany could tell even he wasn't convinced.
"Few men who desire power like a throne can be swayed by gold," Willas retorted.
"Perhaps fear will be enough?" David said.
"Fear?" Dany asked.
"The dragons," David began. "They're young now, but they won't be forever. Your dragon, Drogon, is already the size of a horse."
Dany thought back to the skull of Balerion in the cavern beneath the Red Keep. It excited and terrified her that Drogon might ever reach such a size. She'd read Archmaester Gyldayn's account of Daemon Targaryen and his fateful battle against his own nephew, Aemond Targaryen. It appalled and horrified her that her family could be reduced to such ridiculous infighting. To think that their mighty dragons had been made to turn on one another.
"Perhaps we should call a council," Dany said. "It exists for just such a reason."
There was quiet and she saw doubt on every face.
"As if Steffon Frey would have any wisdom to impart," Olenna muttered.
"Perhaps we should? Lord Tyrion would be furious with us discussing a matter of such importance without his presence," Willas said.
"He could be summoned here now. I think it wise to exclude Varys though," David mumbled quietly.
A tense silence fell over them. Dany's own doubts had started forming about him. It seemed passing strange that their very own Master of Whisperers had not breathed a word of this Blackfyre threat brewing in the east. It was possible that he thought it unimportant, a mere gnat in his web. "I think we should keep this between us for the time being," Dany declared. "Though I trust Lord Tyrion and I'm certain he has the realm's best interests at heart, I am not in favor of a wider small council meeting."
"As you wish, Your Grace."
There was silence once more. Dany tapped her fingernails against the desk as she mulled over her thoughts. The others were convinced of the Blackfyre's threat, but it unsettled her to strike like a viper without being certain. It reminded her of Lord Tywin's attempt to kill her in Qarth.. They were not like a wounded animal backed into a corner. They had options and, most importantly, time.
She glanced around at the others to get a sense of their thoughts. David was staring at the far wall, rubbing his chin absentmindedly, his expression serious. Willas was tapping his cane, his eyes on the floor. Only Olenna met her eyes. No one else looked any more certain than she felt.
Furthermore, secrecy was of the utmost importance. Their gathering was already quite large with David, Lady Olenna, and Lord Willas. To summon Tyrion might pique Varys' interest as to what they might be discussing. How many times had Aemon emphasized secrecy to her before he'd left? Enough.
"I think it best we leave this matter here for now. I would prefer to know more about this Maelyx Blackfyre before we make a decision. I want you all to be listening carefully for anything else. Unless you have urgent news, I think it best to reconvene when the king returns so he can be apprised of the situation," Dany said.
"A wise course of action, Queen Daenerys," Olenna said. "Don't want to be like my late husband who rode off a cliff on his horse while he was too busy looking at the sky."
David chuckled. "Apologies," he said, when he'd gotten control of himself.
"None needed. It was precisely that laughable," Olenna said.
"'Til the next small council meeting then," Willas said. He bowed to Dany and started out. David held open the door for the two Tyrells, then also gave a final bow before leaving.
