Father of Dragons

by Naerys Blackfyre

"How did you know of this chest Sam?" Jon s eyebrows were drawn together in a frown. "hummm…oh uh well maester Aemon told me to give this chest to you when he died. He said that you would most likely be in need of them." Sam answers with a shrug. Jon stared at Sam with a frown painted on this face. What could maester Aemon possibly wanted to give him. Jonsa, Anti-Dany

43. Chapter 43

JON CONNINGTON

Fuming, the lord hand gripped the reins of his nervous mount even tighter to keep it under control, as he stared at the damned banner of house Buckler flying over the castle of Bronzegate

For how much longer would Buckler continue to defy the rightful king?

Ralph Buckler was not worthy of the title of lord, much less a Stormlord.

Not with his tendency to switch to whatever side benefited him the most at the time. From house Targaryen to Baratheon, from Aerys to Robert to Renly to Stannis to Joffrey and now finally to Tommen, the man had served more kings than most greybeards could ever dream of.

However, even with the ease lord Buckler changed his alliances, it was a wonder how the man stubbornly refused to yield the cursed castle he ruled and surrender to the rightful King.

Glancing at Aegon, who was mounted on a handsome white destrier beside him, Jon was sure that lord Buckler did suspect that Rhaegar´s son and heir would not be forgiving of the treason he had committed in the Rebellion.

Perhaps it was for the best, that Buckler did not open his gates and surrender to the mercy of Aegon Targaryen. The young King did need a victory in battle, not only to boost morale of the army but also to prove to the lords of Westeros that he was a force to be reckoned with.

"I should be leading them." Aegon´s voice rang with absolute surety while staring at the brownstone walled castle, that was surrounded by the Golden company.

The young man´s thunderous expression was matched perfectly by the grey clouded skies and the dull and lifeless looking grass.

"You know that it would not be wise, your grace." Even though they had this conversation many times during the march from Storm´s End, Jon felt his heart swell with pride at the young man. Young Aegon might not have inherited much from his father other than his hair and eye colour, but at least he had gotten the bravery of the silver prince.

Enraged violet eyes turned from the castle walls, looking as hard as amethyst. "I am the King, I should be out there, commanding my men."

"You are right, you are the King." Jon watched as Aegon´s eyes widened, and his pale brows rose on his forehead in surprise. "Which is why you must stay out of the fray. Your life is more important than anyone else´s."

The silence that followed his words hung heavily between them as Aegon´s mood turned from shocked to sour. "My father did not hang back while his men did the fighting. He fought alongside them and met the Usurper in the field himself."

"Yes, and how did that end?"

Aegon´s face turned pale as chalk at Jon´s words, his mouth hanging open in shock at hearing his own lord hand speak like this to him. The young dragon´s knuckles turned white with the force of which he used to grip the reins as those violet eyes turned hard again.

"I do not say this to upset you, Aegon." The hand spoke in a calm tone, keeping the King from speaking. "When your father died, most of the men lost hope and surrendered to the Usurper, even Barristan the Bold bent the knee to him."

Saying nothing, Aegon stared at him as his lips were pulled into a fine line, a sullen look on his otherwise comely face.

Jon turned his head to look at the siege before them and listening to the shouts and yells of the men from both sides of the castle wall. Not long now, Jon thought to himself.

"Your father was the greatest man I have ever known." Jon spoke as he watched the front line of the Golden company raise their shields, as the men of Bronzegate shot arrows into the formations at the front. It felt strange, almost surreal like not to be in the thick of the fighting. But he like Aegon had to suffer leading from the back. "Rhaegar would have been the greatest King since Jaehaerys I, likely he would have been even better than the Conciliator."

Turning his eyes back to the silent King, Jon hoped Aegon would listen to what he was being told. "If Rhaegar had stayed safe, stayed behind and not met the Usurper that day then he would have become that King. Rhaegar would now be ruling from King´s Landing and you would have been raised as you ought to have been, as a prince of the Iron throne, the prince of Dragonstone."

"So, you are saying that it was my father´s fault?" Aegon´s voice shook as his face tightened.

"No, Aegon." Jon sighed feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Your father was the bravest and most noble of men, if the Kingsguard had done their job that day, he would have lived, and the Usurper would have died."

"Do you think that it is true?" Aegon asked after a moment of contemplation, as the Targaryen guard around them continued to imitate a wall, staying silent and alert as a proper guard should be. "That my aunt has taken Barristan Selmy into her service?"

With a sigh, Jon patted his horse´s neck, hoping to distract his mount from the smell of blood. "I believe so, the rumours all seem to agree on it, and I would not be surprised to see the man by her side when she arrives."

Aegon scowled, his chin getting a stubborn tilt to it. "I will have him answer for not defending my father and for his treason."

"It may not be wise to do so."

"What do you mean? I am the King, and he betrayed my father."

Aegon´s outrage at his words caused Jon to send the boy a hard glare. "Aegon, your aunt has had the man in her service for some time now and you know how soft and gentle, a woman´s heart is."

"But I am the King, and she is to be my wife." Aegon insisted. "She is to do as she is told and if I want the man to answer for his treason, then my aunt will have to give him up."

"I agree that Selmy will have to answer for the wrongs he has committed." Keeping his voice soft and calm, Jon tried to make the young King understand that he was not disagreeing with him. "The man switched sides, while King Aerys, you and prince Viserys still lived, and he failed in his duty to save Rhaegar."

Watching as Aegon´s fury seemed to lessen, Jon waited for a moment before speaking again. "It would be wise to allow your aunt to think that she has more power than she does. Rhaegar´s sister has been ruling in Slaver´s bay and has hatched dragons back in the world, she will be used to getting her way."

Looking sullen, the young King turned his attention to the siege before them. "When do you think that she will come?"

Fighting an undignified snort. "Likely your aunt will make haste when she hears of you taking the Iron throne from the Lannister woman and her bastard." Jon was sure that the moment Rhaegar´s sister heard that Aegon was fighting to take back his birth right, she would abandon the slave cities as fast as humanly possible.

The girl would not want to stay in Essos when Aegon had taken back the Iron throne and restored Rhaegar's house back to their rightful place.

A sudden cheer erupted among the men of the Golden company, forcing them out of their conversation. Jon felt a smile pull at his lips when he saw the gate of the castle break inwards, allowing for their soldiers to storm the seat of house Buckler.

"We have done it." Aegon breathed out, his face aglow with happiness. "Let´s head forward."

"Aegon." Letting out an exhausted sigh, Jon fixed Rhaegar´s son a stare. "Let the men subdue any and all resistance before we make our way to the castle, we do not what to endanger your life."

"I am a skilled swordsman, lord hand. I can protect myself."

"I do not doubt your skills with a sword Aegon, but I would rather not take any unnecessary chances."

Huffing sullenly, Aegon stared at the men ahead of them, furrowing his brow as only a young man being denied the opportunity to do battle, could.

"There will be a time for glory, your grace." Jon offered, hoping to lighten Aegon´s mood. "When you take the capital from the Lannister woman, and then the seat of your ancestors and right the wrongs that have been done to your family, the bards will sing your praises from Dorne to the Wall."

"I want to lead the charge into King´s Landing." Aegon said after a moment of silence with determination lacing his voice.

"Aegon-." Jon started but was interrupted by the King.

"Jon, I cannot stay in the back forever. How will the men respect me if I refuse to fight alongside them? Especially against a force led by a woman?" The indignant look on the King´s face made Jon want to sigh again.

However, Aegon did have a point. Leading from the back against a force led by a man was one thing, but against a woman was something else entirely.

However, that woman had burnt the Sept of Baelor in wildfire. Perhaps she was planning something similar when Aegon came to take back what was his?

"Let´s revisit the issue when we enter the Crownlands." Hoping to buy himself time to convince the men that it was necessary for Aegon to be kept as safe as possible, Jon watched as a smile lit up the King´s face.

It filled him with guilt, but Jon knew that he needed to keep Rhaegar´s son and heir safe and out of harm's way.

"Your grace, my lord hand." A young man, in the armour of the golden company, rode his horse towards them, a large smile on his face. "We have taken the castle; Ser Harry is requesting your presence."

Jon nodded and followed Aegon, who had almost immediately spurred his horse onward as if trying to leave his hand and guards behind.

Thankfully, they managed to catch up with the King, and together they headed to the now broken gates of the castle and Jon could see a few men hastily discarding and dousing two huge trunks of trees.

Making their way through the cheering lines of soldiers, Jon watched with pride as Aegon waved and grinned happily at the men. Sitting straight-backed and tall, the rightful King cut a fine figure.

Glancing down at the broken gate, Jon observed the intricate and detailed carvings that told the story the founding of house Buckler. The dark green metal that had safeguarded that traitorous family laying in the mud brought forth a great satisfaction within the Hand.

Now the lords of the realm would have no other choice but to take him seriously. To take Aegon seriously.

The hand of the true King felt a smile break out on his face. Now there was a straight line to the capital.

The sooner they took King´s Landing, the better.

Riding their horses into the courtyard, they were met with more men in their gilded armour, cheering but this time, they were holding the proud banner of house Targaryen high.

Jon felt his heart sing at the sight of the three headed dragon, roaring fiercely in the soft breeze.

Soon Rhaegar´s banner would be flying above the Red Keep, where it belonged.

Standing at the entrance of the castle, Ser Harry Strickland grinning happily at them, not a speck of dirt or blood on his fine armour and beside him was lord Mace, looking as spotless and pristine as the leader of the Golden company, although not nearly as joyful.

"Your grace." Ser Harry gestured grandly and bowed so deep that his nose almost touched the stone floor of the entrance way. "The Golden company has the honour of giving you, the seat of Bronzegate."

Vaulting of his destrier, Aegon strolled over to the knight. "Thank you, good Ser. I will see you handsomely awarded for your bravery."

Dismounting and following the King, Jon wasted no time. "Where is Buckler?"

"Lord Buckler is being held in the dungeons." Lord Mace piped up, not wanting to be forgotten, holding his head high as he glared at the knight beside him. "Awaiting the King´s judgement."

"Good." Aegon stood even taller than before, his violet eyes sparkling with joy. "It is high time that the man answers for his treason."

Not waiting for either man to speak, Aegon practically ran ahead in his eagerness to dispense justice to those who had betrayed his father and their family.

Entering the brightly lit great hall of Bronzegate, Aegon quickly took his seat at the head of the table, with Jon taking the seat to his right. The lord hand could see that neither Ser Harry nor lord Mace looked happy at having to give up the seat of honour.

However, when Ser Harry took the seat to Aegon´s immediate left, the lord of Highgarden looked positively apocalyptic.

Jon would have been furious as well if he had been in lord Mace´s shoes. While Ser Harry was the commander of the Golden company, lord Mace was a high lord and rightly belonged closer to the King than a sell sword, especially now that he was Aegon's good father.

With a sigh, Jon opted to speak with Aegon later. It would not do to offend the only high lord that had declared for him.

"Bring forth the prisoners." Aegon commanded regally.

They had to wait for a few minutes before Ralph Buckler and his household was dragged before the rightful King.

Ralph Buckler had the dark hair that was common in the Stormlands, but his small brown eyes spoke of his mother´s Reach blood as they glared daggers at the men sitting at the high table that had been his only hours before. "So, this is the boy."

Buckler´s deep voice carried a taunting tone as he sneered at where Aegon was sitting before he grinned mockingly at the rightful King. "Does not look like Rhaegar."

Aegon´s face twisted in fury. "How dare you? You stand accused of treason, yet presume to lie and mock your rightful King?"

"You are no King of ours." A man of sixty years, who bore a passing resemblance to Robert Baratheon growled, his face red as his chains rattled when he strained against them. "We have made no vows to serve you."

"You made vows to serve house Targaryen." Aegon countered, glaring at the bastard of Bronzegate.

Blood ran down the face of the once famed tourney knight as he spat at the floor. "House Targaryen maybe, but not you, boy."

Turning as red as the three headed dragon of his banner, Aegon jumped to his feet. "I AM RHAEGAR´S SON AND THE RIGHTFUL-."

"YOU ARE NO ONE." Buckler interrupted, his bellow making Aegon jump back, his eyes wide at the man´s audacity. "You are not even from Westeros and yet you think that you can just come here and rule over us like you have any right to it."

"How dare you interrupt the King?" Jon pushed himself out of his chair and leaned against the table with his knuckles placed against the wood. "This is Aegon Targaryen, the sixth of his name, the rightful king of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First men."

The mocking look appeared on Ralph Buckler´s face again, this time there was also a hint of mirth on his weathered face. "Oh, and I suppose we are to take your word for it? The word of the man who was so incompetent at being the Hand that even the Mad King could see it?"

The burn of anger and humiliation buried itself deep within him and Jon wanted nothing more than to shove his sword into the man´s belly. "Look at him and you will see the truth of my words."

With a snort, Buckler started to chuckle. "Why? Because he has silver hair, he must be the dragon prince´s son?"

Gritting his teeth, Jon opened his mouth to speak some sense into the man, but he was interrupted by the bastard. "Of course, Connington would think that every blond in the world is Rhaegar´s son, the former lord of Griffin´s Roost has always had a one-track mind."

The words were a punch to the gut and Jon found himself slowly sitting down as his face grew cold as the prisoners laughed at the bastard's jape.

Aegon, unlike Jon was not deterred by the men in front of them. "I am prince Rhaegar´s son, whether you believe it or not. The Iron throne is mine by rights and I will take it back and restore my family to their former greatness."

"I don´t believe you." Buckler looked unimpressed with the King as he continued to stare at the young man before him. "You have done little and less to prove that you are Rhaegar´s son, you might have silver hair and purple eyes, but you do not look like him; but most importantly, you have no dragons."

Dead silence filled the hall.

"You are planning to declare for the bastard." Aegon´s quiet words cut through the hall as every man of the Golden company held their breath.

"From what I hear, Jon Targaryen is no bastard, rather the true heir of the Dragon prince and the rightful King."

"Lies." King Aegon hissed, his face white and eyes wide. "Those are all lies. He is a bastard and nothing more."

"If King Aegon has to provide proof, then so does this…other claimant." Ser Harry spoke for the first time since entering the hall, his eyes firmly fixed on the former master of Bronzegate.

"Jon Targaryen has six dragons, Darksister, the crown of Aegon the Conqueror and from what I hear, real documents that the high septon married prince Rhaegar and lady Lyanna before a Hearttree."

Clenching his fist, Jon stared at Ralph Buckler, who was smirking at them. "Who told you this?"

"We received a letter from Dragonstone not too long ago." Buckler shrugged his shoulders, rattling the chains around his wrists. "Ser Davos assures us that those words are indeed true."

"You would trust a smuggler over a lord of the realm?" Mace Tyrell looked horrified at the very idea.

"Smuggler or not, I have never known Ser Davos to lie about anything. Ser Davos has even assured us that King Jon has saved Shireen Baratheon, the lady of the Storm's End and she is now under his protection." Turning his brown eyes to the lord Hand, Jon felt his heart sink as the man smirked again. "And Jon Connington is no lord, the Mad King stripped him of any and all titles when he lost at the Stoney Sept." But Jon could only stare at the man, struck speechless at the man's cold words.

"ENOUGH." Aegon, who had remained standing, slammed his fist into the table. "I have had it with your lies."

Breathing heavily, the King fixed the man a hard stare. "If you will not bend the knee lord Buckler, then I have no more use for you."

Turning to the guards surrounding him and the bastard, Aegon gave the order. "Take the traitor and all those loyal to him to the courtyard, they have a meeting with the executioner's blade."

TYRION

Standing beside lady Missandei, Tyrion tried his best to keep from fidgeting as the Dothraki hoard rode in circles around the plaza before the pyramid of the queen. Their long dark hair shining and flowing in the bright sunlight as they waved their curved blades in the air as the queen and her dragon circled around the city, the winged shadow roaring furiously.

The crowds gathered at the edge of the square all watching as the queen´s mount roared again, his enormous black wings casting shadows over Meereen. Many of the freed men were cheering for the silver queen, calling her name in the tongue of Old Ghisari.

As he watched the former slaves, Tyrion found himself seeking out the masters and the people of Meereen that had been free when Daenerys Targaryen had taken the city. Many of their faces were impassive and unreadable yet, there were some that were unable to hide their look of distain and horror.

Tyrion felt a frown appear on his face the longer he watched the slave masters. Seeing Daenerys and Drogon reappear in the skies over Meereen again, the masters must be feeling more than a little uneasy.

A bitter feeling rose in him as he watched the former slavers whispered to one another. A feeling that gnawed at his very bones. It felt similar to when his demented sister had accused him of murdering Joffrey before all the court and almost doomed him to the Ser Ilyn Payne´s blade.

He was abruptly dragged out of his musings by Drogon landing on the buildings on the other side of the plaza. With another shriek, the black dragon stood on his hind legs and spread his wings before letting out a torrent of black flames from his mouth into the air.

Even though the dragon was on the other side of the square that was large enough to hold one third of the Queen´s hoard, Tyrion still found himself taking a step back on instinct. Many of the people of the city gasped and cried out in terror while the Dothraki cheered even louder as if they were edged on by the dragon flame.

From the other side of the plaza Tyrion could hear Daenerys Targaryen speak with the Dothraki hoard in their ruff tongue. Despite himself, Tyrion found himself impressed that the young girl was fluent in three languages. Too bad that the Queen of Meereen did not apply the same diligence to ruling the city she was responsible for.

Tyrion found himself tempted to ask lady Missandei for a translation of what the young Queen was saying, however he held his tongue and kept his eyes firmly on the Queen and her mount.

Whatever she was saying clearly worked to rile the Dothraki up. The warriors cheered and saluted her as Khalessi as the bells in their hair sang and their arakhs were waved over their heads.

The black dragon perching on the building, its red eyes blazing like the fires of the deepest pits of the Seven hells as its rider spoke to the Dothraki, who waved their weapons in the air as they cheered for her, made a cold shiver run down his spine.

The Queen finished her speech and as the Dothraki continued to cheer for her, she leaned flat against Drogon´s back. The black dragon snarled and shook his head, then he spread his wings again and jumped.

However, the dragon did not take flight again, rather landed on the ground with such force that it shook the earth.

The horses nearest where the dragon landed reared and screamed with fright and even the experienced Dothraki were hard pressed to control their mounts.

As the horses fought their riders, trying to bolt from the Queen's beast, Daenerys Targaryen unlatched herself from the makeshift saddle and disappeared into the crowd. As soon as the Queen´s leather boots had landed on the dusty ground, the dragon roared again and vaulted into the air.

When she reappeared, walking up the steps, Daenerys was followed by her bloodriders on foot and Ser Barristan and Daario Naharis.

Ignoring the irritating, smirking sellsword, Tyrion was surprised to see the most revered and celebrated knight in all the Seven Kingdoms look like he was hewn from stone.

His normally impeccably cleaned and cared for white scaled armour was now brown with dust and dirt, his bright blue eyes looking bruised with exhaustion as the flowing snow-white cloak was nowhere to be seen.

Smiling sweetly at her adviser, lady Missandei, the Queen sneaked her arm though the crook of her elbow. "The cities of Astapor and Yunkai have been returned to the dirt. The slavers shall never hurt you again my friend."

Tyrion had to bite his tongue to keep from asking what had happened to the people who had nothing to do with the slavers. He had no desire to be on the business end of the Dothraki arakh.

"It is good to have you back with us, your grace." Lady Missandei bowed her head in greeting. "A bath has been readied for you, your grace. I am sure you will want to wash the dust from the road before we all gather."

The Queen smiled at her adviser. "That will be delightful. Accompany me, my friend, I want you to attend to me."

The Silver Queen and the translator made their way into the pyramid, followed by the bloodriders and Greyworm and a few of his men.

Daario Naharis smirked at Tyrion, the golden moustache twisting along with his lips and his dark blue eyes sparking with mirth as his suede-coloured gloves rested on the hit of the dagger he always carried on his person.

The lord commander, however, did not follow the Queen and her retinue inside the pyramid, opting to walk slowly to Tyrion´s side, his pale face impassive. "Lord Tyrion." The old knight greeted, his eyes occasionally drifting to the dark shape that flew over the city. "It is good to see you again."

"And you, Ser." Tyrion´s eyes looked the man over again, looking for any injury that might explain his changed demeanour. "Are you alright? You seem…different."

Barristan´s blue eyes found his mismatched ones and the man´s weathered face remained unreadable. "I am weary from the road, why don't we talk in my quarters."

Nodding and following the knight, Tyrion felt the apprehension rise in him. Whatever had happened during the Queen´s conquest of the other cities of Slaver´s bay seemed to have worn down the fabled knight.

They walked quietly to the knight´s quarters and Ser Barristan almost collapsed into one of the chairs that surrounded a small circular table. The room´s matched the knight rather well, it was small and held no ornate decorations. Only a small window overlooking the city let in the warm light from the harsh central Essosi sun as Tyrion walked over to the table, grabbed the pincher and poured them both cups of wine. "What happened?"

Ser Barristan sighed and took the one offered to him before draining the entire contents in one swallow.

Tyrion was so surprised by his actions that his own cup stopped mid-way to his lips. The knight reached for the pincher and poured himself another. "Yunkai and Astapor are no more."

"So, the Queen was not exaggerating?" Tyrion to a large gulp of wine, feeling it run down the inside of his throat as the apprehension that had crept up on him earlier grew. "When can we expect the prisoners to arrive?"

"She took no prisoners." Ser Barristan stared into the cup, his eyes and face empty of all emotions. "The Dothraki were allowed to take a few as a reward for their service…"

As the man trailed off, his blue eyes growing dull. "I thought she was like Rhaegar. When I first came into her service and swore myself and my sword to her cause." Barristan the Bold looked up at Tyrion as he clutched the cup tightly. "But I seemed to have been wrong."

"Her father was promising, at first. You know that." Tyrion countered, his feet dangling off the chair, making him feel even smaller. "What really happened during the taking of Yunkai and Astapor?"

The knight lifted the cup to his lips again and took a sip from it. "The masters of Yunkai threatened Drogon and insulted her, after that there was no hope for any mediation."

As the knight began to tell Tyrion the details of what had happened, the smaller man found himself reaching for the pitcher again and again.

"And were the destinations of the masters discovered?"

"No, despite the Queen´s inquiries…" The knight sent Tyrion a pointed look. "One servant told us that they had fled to Qarth, another said that they had gone to Volantis. Some even swore that they had gone to the Shadowlands beyond Asshai."

Despite the seriousness of their discussion, Tyrion snorted into his cup. "Well men under such…extreme questioning will say anything to get it to stop."

The knight nodded. "They could have gone anywhere in Essos. The slavers have no shortage in allies on this side of the Narrow Sea."

"She cannot land in Westeros." Tyrion said in a low voice, the ever-present threat of being overheard, even though they were in a locked room together, hanging over him as what he had to say was nothing short of treason to the dragon queen. "If she does, the whole country will be set aflame."

"I think that ship has already sailed." The defeat in Barristan´s voice echoed though the room as he took another sip of wine. "The masters of Slavers Bay have been defeated and she has Drogon back. Now the only thing stopping her from moving west is her desire to wait for Rhaegal and Viserion."

Tyrion fought a smile. "There is no guarantee that they will return."

"The Queen will eventually tire of waiting for them and then we will head to the Seven Kingdoms to take the Iron throne."

"There is still the issue of the other slave cities." Tyrion pointed out, pleased to see the dull and lifeless look on the knight´s face dissipate a little.

"What do you mean?"

"The only city in Essos that is completely free of any sort of slavery is Braavos. How can the breaker of chains leave the slaves to their torment?" He knew that it was cold and harsh of him to use real people´s suffering to his advantage yet he did not know what else to do.

"You want her to stay here in Essos and continue her fight against the slavers?" Barristan leaned forward, his eyes regaining their sharpness.

"If she leaves Meereen, the people who she freed will be thrown back into slavery." Tyrion insisted quietly. "You know that as well as I, however if Daenerys stays, they might be able to live their lives and restore Meereen and show the people of Essos that there is no need for slavery."

"She will never be content to stay here, she is determined to take the Iron throne." His shoulders slumped as he placed his cup on the table and reached for the pitcher again. "You did not see her in Yunkai and Astapor."

He poured Tyrion more wine as he continued. "The Dothraki slaughtered everyone in their path, even women and children who did not even fight them, they dragged them out of their homes and raped and killed them in the streets."

Tyrion frowned at the older man. "Surely she was wroth when she found out."

"She was not pleased by the news, yet she did nothing to instil discipline in her soldiers and she was the one who burned the cities to the ground. The next time she takes a city, it will be even worse."

Tyrion nodded and turned to look out the window, watching the winged shadow pass by, roaring as he soared over the city. "Was it like this? Serving her father?"

"No." Barristan shook his head. "Aerys did not have a dragon." His answer made Tyrion feel like he had swallowed snakes, and now they were writhing around in his belly, fighting to get out.

The answer Barristan gave was followed by a knock on the door echoed through the small room and the knight called for the person to come in.

A young serving girl opened the door and bowed deeply. "Her grace is calling for a meeting in the small council chambers." She bowed again and hurriedly left them alone.

Tyrion slid from his chair and placed his cup on the table. "Shall we?"

Ser Barristan the Bold nodded and followed him out of the room, making sure to keep his stride short enough for Tyrion to keep up with the man without having to run.

They arrived at the chamber where the Queen held all their meetings and Tyrion was grateful that he and Ser Barristan were the first to arrive.

Tyrion moved to the table as he glanced at the high windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the black dragon again as he smoothed the crimson jerkin and took his seat. For all the terror the dragon could inspire, Tyrion had not lost his fascination with the creatures. Not one bit.

They did not have to wait for long as the Queen of Meereen walk into the room, wearing a lovely pale blue gown that was made from fabric that looked so light that it could have been made out of water, the crown with the three dragons was firmly on her head and she walked proudly to the head of the table.

"Now, tell me my lord, how has my city been fairing in my absence." Daenerys Targaryen turned her violet gaze on Tyrion, her eyes boring into his own.

"Well, your grace, we have been making some progress. We have been getting some of the small folk back to work, however I have taken the liberty of writing up a contract that you might want to look over so that we can send it to Hesh. It is of utmost importance to re-establish the trade routes that collapsed during the conquest."

Tyrion watched as the Queen´s face go from annoyed, too pleased, to annoyed again. "I shall look it over later." She took a cup of wine that lady Missandei handed her. "Now, lord Tyrion have you heard any news about my other children?"

Feeling the cold shiver crawl over his twisted body, Tyrion was forced to speak. "No, your grace. There has been no news."

"The queen´s dragons are large, how can you not find them, Imp?" Daario Naharis looked torn between amusement and anger as he stared at Tyrion.

"Probably for the same reason you did not." Tyrion replied snidely. "I am very impressive, however unlike the dragons I do not have wings."

The blue bearded man´s face soured at Tyrion´s words and he could see the sellsword gloved hands inch closer to the hilts of his blades.

"Captain." Missandei piped up, her voice had a lingering of uncertainty. "Lord Tyrion and I have been looking for Rhaegal and Viserion for months, we have exhausted every lead in trying to find them."

"Enough." Daenerys growled out, her eyes darkening with fury. "Rhaegal and Viserion must be found. It takes precedence over everything else. We cannot leave for Westeros without them."

Glancing at Missandei, who had a concerned look on her face. However, to Tyrion´s disappointment, the young woman held her tongue.

"As you wish your grace." Tyrion nodded and leaned back in his chair. "Shall we start discussing how we shall proceed?"

The Dragon Queen nodded and turned her attention to Daario Naharis. "I have decided to name you my master of War, when we arrive in Westeros, you shall have a seat on my council and a castle worthy of your station as my advisor."

A bitter taste filled his mouth, watching the sellsword puff up with pride as a golden tooth gleamed in his mouth as he smiled. "You honour me, my Queen." The man stood from his chair and bowed deeply, his blue curly hair bouncing around his shoulders.

Meeting Ser Barristan´s eyes, both men exchanged quick but displeased looks at the Queen´s choice. Daario Naharis would not be welcomed in Westeros, much less as a member of the small council, on a seat that had never existed before nor a lord of the Realm. The lords would whisper that Daenerys had made the office especially for her lover, to keep him close and given him the title for his skills in the bed chamber. Tyrion could only imagine the rumours if the dragon queen managed to take the throne.

"Your grace, if I may, did you acquire more ships from Yunkai and Astapor?" Tyrion asked the Queen as he glanced at the window as the dragon passed the pyramid again.

"No, the master of Yunkai had used them to build their horrible contraptions." Her fair face twisted in anger. "And the masters of Astapor were nowhere to be found."

"Well, if you are to take the Iron throne, you must have ships." And they will be expensive, Tyrion thought to himself, feeling a bit gleeful. "Perhaps our Ironborn friends can be of assistance." Keeping the sarcasm out of his voice was almost too hard for him yet somehow, he managed.

"And speaking of the Ironborn, where are lady Greyjoy and her brother?"

"They are overseeing the loading of the ships; they will likely arrive within a few days." Queen Daenerys said icily as she sat up straighter in her chair, the crown on her brow glinting in the sunlight pouring through the tall windows.

Missandei glanced at Tyrion then she looked back at the Queen. "Was there much food, your grace? The supplies of the city are sorely lacking."

"We will need the supplies when we head to Westeros." The new Master of War said as he poured himself a cup of wine. "It cannot be squandered on slavers and traitors."

Missandei stared at the blue bearded man, her dark eyes furious. "I am not talking about the slavers or the traitors to the Queen. I am talking about the common folk and the Freed men."

Everyone in the council chamber blinked surprised at the normally quiet and reserved young woman. Even Missandei was astonished by her own harsh and pointed words.

Silence filled the room, only a soft gust blowing through the tall windows broke it, until Missandei cleared her throat and spoke again, this time directing her words to the Queen of Meereen. "Your grace, lord Tyrion and I have been working hard on a plan to help rebuild the city after the battle and how to get the Freed men back to work while not serving as slaves."

Daenerys blinked at the other woman, then nodded for her to continue. As Missandei told the Queen of the plans they had made, Tyrion spotted the look of distain on Daario Naharis´ face as they listened to the young woman.

"And you think that this can work?" Daenerys Targaryen asked, her violet eyes wide traveling to each of the people in the room.

"Yes your grace." Missandei nodded her head.

"And how will the Queen feed her men on the voyage to the Sunset Kingdoms?" Naharis asked, barely managing to hide the distain in his voice. "They cannot eat sand, nor drink sea water."

"The people need food." Missandei insisted. "We cannot just give it away as we have been doing, we need to get the skilled workers back to work and we need more food."

"Which is why we need to re-establish trade with Hesh." Tyrion pointed out as he spied the Queen winch as if struck with a sharp pain. Her small dainty hand reached for her head before she quickly brought it down again. "We can also send envoys to Mantarys, Elyria and Tol-."

"No." Daenerys insisted, her voice cutting through his suggestion sharply. "I will not send more envoys to them; they chose to support the masters given the opportunity and killed my people and called me a whore."

Gesturing for the sellsword to pour her a cup of wine, the Queen´s face was red spotted with fury as the silence settled over them again.

She took a sip of the wine before speaking again. "There has to be another city where more food can be found."

"You can always take Mantarys, Elyria and Tolos, my Queen." Daario suggested, smirking as he took out his dagger and started to play with it, the naked woman´s body glinting in the sunlight. "They would not be a difficulty for you."

The Queen seemed to contemplate this for a moment. "We would have to wait until the Greyjoys come back, we would need the ships."

"Not for Mantarys my Queen." Daario seemed to grow more eager as a new conquest was being discussed. "It is landlocked, but the Dothraki and the Second sons can take the Demonroad to the city."

"The Dothraki and the Second sons have only just arrived from taking both Astapor and Yunkai." Tyrion countered reaching for the pincher and pouring himself a cup of wine. He would need more if he were to get through this conversation.

However, if the Queen would leave immediately to conquer Mantarys, then perhaps a few of her men would die from exhaustion. Now that would be favourable for him.

And yet with a smaller army and less men to feed, the queen could move faster and sooner to Westeros.

"You Westerosi may need to take rest after a small battle, Imp but we have more stamina than that." Daario grinned at Tyrion, his golden tooth glinting at him.

"Even the best of soldiers can be subject to exhaustion." Tyrion took a large swallow of the sweet wine the Queen favoured. He would have to try and persuade the queen to make sure that her men remained alive, for the more men she had, the harder it would be to feed them and her dragon.

Daenerys seemed to have grown tired of their arguing as she spoke up and rose from her chair. "Find Rhaegal and Viserion, that is your priority so that we can leave for Westeros." As Daenerys Targaryen pointed her words at Tyrion, she glanced at Daario and gestured for him to follow her out of the room, with Missandei and Greyworm shadowing their steps.