Hello readers.
We have come to an end in season 1 of Game of Thrones. I hope everyone is enjoying this story.
Dothraki will be bold
Valyrian will be italicized
Enjoy
The Lannister army made camp in the Riverlands as they contemplated their hallow victory. They faced Robb Stark's army and won, but no one saw the Young Wolf on the battlefield, assuming he was a coward, and left the fighting to his men. Except they faced 2,000 men, which was odd as they expected an army of 20,000 strong. It wasn't until much later that the Lannister generals realized it was a ploy, for the army they faced was a distraction. The real army met the other Lannister army in the Whispering Wood led by Ser Jaime, defeated them and making him their prisoner. Not only that, but they received a letter from Lady Lenora informing them of Lord Eddard Stark's execution.
"They have my son," Tywin mutters with his back is turned to his war council as all his commanders are sitting on the long table of the war tent.
"It seems you were right, brother," Tyrion says to Gerold, "The Stark boy appears to be less green than we'd hoped."
"I've heard his wolf killed a dozen men and as many horses," Leo Lefford, one of Tywin's generals, reported.
"Regardless, he has Jaime, which gives him the advantage," Gerold stated, "Not to mention the letter Lenora sent us."
Addam Marbrand asked, "Is it true about Stannis and Renly?"
"Both Baratheon brothers have taken up against us," Ser Kevan reported from what they heard of the Renly from the Reach, "Ser Jaime captured; his armies scattered. It's a catastrophe. We should sue for peace."
Suddenly, Tyrion tipped over his glass cup, causing it to shatter, which brought the general's attention. "There's your peace. Joffrey saw to that when he decided to remove Ned Stark's head. You'll have an easier time drinking from that cup than you will bringing Robb Stark to the table now. He's winning – in case you hadn't noticed."
"Tyrion is right," Gerold said, "The North will never back down. Not after they heard what happened to their lord. We need to be smart with our next move."
Ser Kevan states, "I'm told we still have his sisters."
"I'm afraid that is uncertain," Gerold said as he had a letter from Lenora in his hands, "According to my sister's letter, not only did they execute Ned Stark, but they lost his youngest daughter, Arya."
This news shook the whole war council as Lord Tywin slowly turned to face his youngest son since he told the news.
"What do you mean they lost her," Tyrion asked.
"It says that she was with Ser Jarred Longwaters doing something. It doesn't say what," Gerold explains, "But when the Kingsguard came to get her, she ran off. They've been looking for months but to no avail. She's disappeared."
"Disappeared? In a puff of smoke," Tyrion questioned, "We had three Starks to trade. One got his head chopped off, and now the other escaped."
"That's all that Lenora said," Gerold concluded.
"We still have one of them left," Ser Addam Marbrand said, "that makes her more valuable to the Starks."
Leo Lefford advises, "The first order of business is ransoming Ser Jaime."
"Jaime is the most valuable hostage they have," Gerold argues, "They'll never let him out of their sight."
"First, we must return to Casterly Rock to raise," Kevan begins to say.
"They have my son!" Tywin shouts as he turns to his war council, who went silent. "Get out, all of you." The council members did as their lord ordered. However, Tywin points to Tyrion, "Not you."
Gerold and Tyrion look at each other with uncertainty. They knew it was Tyrion their father wanted, not Gerold, which caused the younger brother to feel uncertain. However, he left the tent to let his father and brother speak privately. Gerold went to his tent, taking off his armor so he could be more relaxed as he was contemplating what had been happening in the realm recently. Tyrion was captured, so the Lannisters went to war, and then Jaime got captured by Robb Stark, who proved to be more clever than expected. And now Eddard Stark has been executed for treason. Cementing a war between the Starks and the Lannisters, along with the whole North marching down against the South, no doubt wanting blood for their murdered lord. And now Arya Stark is missing. Gerold couldn't fathom it. How could so many things go wrong in so little time? He wonders what his nephew, Joffrey, thought when he ordered Lord Stark's head. His thoughts are interrupted as Tyrion enters his tent.
"What did father want," Gerold asked as he sat on his bed.
"I'm going to the capital," Tyrion said in an uncertain voice.
Gerold's eyes widen, "For what?"
"To rule in his stead as Hand of the King," Tyrion answered.
"Hand of the King," Gerold repeats with his eyes widening.
"Yes, to bring Joffrey to heel," Tyrion continues, "Father's words, not mine."
"Oh," was all Gerold could say, "Forgive me, brother, but it's a bit unexpected for father to..."
"Yes, I said the same," Tyrion agrees, knowing his father hates him, "I even questioned why he won't send you there instead."
"And what did he say," Gerold asked, wanting to know why.
Tyrion goes to sit next to Gerold as he says, "He said, 'you're my son'…. Never expected to hear him say that before."
All Gerold could say was, "What an honor."
"Yes, an honor," Tyrion repeated.
"I'm sure you would do great," Gerold said, although Tyrion could sense something was bothering him.
"I take it you want to go to the capital," Tyrion guessed.
"No…well…I'm happy for you, brother, but," Gerold begins to say.
"But," Tyrion pressed, wanting to know more, "I'm your brother, Gerold, tell me."
Gerold was going to say that it was nothing, but seeing Tyrion's look, he decided to be honest.
"It's just that," Gerold begins to say, "I always knew Father preferred Jaime. I can see it in his eyes for as long as I can remember. And since then, I have tried to be the son he wanted, but it doesn't seem enough for him. And now it seems he's showing more approval to you than me. That he trusts you more than me." Gerold gives a guilty look to Tyrion. It's not that he was jealous of his brother, but…he always felt inferior to Jaime since Tywin clarified that he was the favorite son. The son he wanted to be his heir to Casterly Rock, but since he is a Kingsguard Knight, that goes to Tyrion. Although many would assume that Tywin would make Gerold the heir if he had his way, the young lion knew it was Jaime their father wants.
He hates that he feels jealous about Tyrion going to the capital, especially since this is the first time Tywin has shown any trust in his son, but Gerold can't help what he feels.
Tyrion, however, hears his brother, giving him an understanding look. "You want recognition."
"I always try to give counsel, but he always waves it off like I don't know anything," Gerold confesses, "I tried to warn him not to underestimate Robb Stark, but he didn't listen even though I have been proven right…. And when he does listen, he…he doesn't even acknowledge it. I feel like I'm just someone else to him."
"You are still his son, Gerold," Tyrion tries to say, "You're a Lannister. You have more approval from him than I do. It's no secret he remarried your mother to have another son."
"Yes, but only to spurn you," Gerold mutters before realizing what he said. He looks to Tyrion, who has a blank look on his face. It was no secret that Tywin married Gerold's mother shortly after losing Jaime as heir and did not want Tyrion to be the new heir. And Tyrion knew it well. Gerold gives a quick apologetic look to his brother before saying, "I just want him to see me as a worthy son. Not just a spare for him to use."
Tyrion nods as he understands Gerold's feelings. He puts his hand on Gerold's shoulder to give a supportive gesture as Gerold looks at his hands. He hated feeling this way, but he couldn't help it.
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Areon sat in his sister's tent, watching over her as she slept, although unconscious was more accurate. Sometime after Ser Jorah brought Daenerys to the tent while Mirri Maaz Durr was doing her blood magic ritual, he came out to say that the child was born, and it was a boy, but it was too early to survive on its own. And it was deformed as well. It had wings like a bat and scales on its skin, looking monstrous. Areon didn't believe it until he asked to see it himself, much to his horror when it was presented. When news of the deformed child's birth and death, many of the Dothraki took their horses and left, saying that the Khal is weak and no Khalasar follows a weak Khal. Areon tried to show them that Khal Drogo was not weak, but when they presented the great Khal, he was catatonic. Practically dead inside. When seeing this, the Dothraki men had their thoughts confirmed. Their Khal is gone, so they took their belongings and left to form new Khalasars, according to Jorah. Some stayed, mostly Irri, Doreah, Rakharo, and the slave women Daenerys saved from the Lhazareen province. Areon needed to figure out what to do. He tries to get the Khalasar to stay, but they won't follow him; he is not their Khal, and he can't abandon Dany, especially when she wakes up, so he stays by her side.
Areon sat beside his sister with a look of worry, fidgeting his hands while slightly rocking himself back and forth, praying that his sister would be alright. She's the only family he has, so he wouldn't know what to do.
Still shaken by all of it, all Areon could do was sing himself his mother's lullaby, which always makes him calm, "Firebreather, winged leader, but two heads, to a third sing, from my voice: The fires have spoken, and the price has been paid, with blood magic, with words of flame, with clear eyes, to bind the three, to you I sing, as one we gather, and with three heads, we shall fly as we were destined, beautifully, freely."
"An old song," a voice said, causing Areon to flinch as he looked behind himself to see it was Ser Jorah, "You speak Valyrian?"
"Something I remember my mother singing to me before she died," Areon confessed, not wanting to explain himself.
Jorah nods with understanding, considering the circumstances. He's been by Areon's side ever since the birth of Dany's malformed child, guarding them both in case anyone wishes to harm them.
"How's Drogo," Areon asked.
Jorah shakes his head, saying that there was no improvement.
"Is the witch still detained," Areon asked since he blamed Mirri Maaz Durr for this.
When seeing the child and Drogo's state, Areon immediately went to her, demanding what happened. All she stated was only death can pay for life. Areon took it to mean she claimed Rhaego's life, and it wasn't even worth it. Drogo was practically dead inside, not even moving and speaking incoherently. So, Areon orders the witch to be tied up, waiting to see what will be done with her.
"Yes," Jorah answered, "As you ordered."
"And Qotho," Areon asked, wanting to know what happened to the Dothraki man.
Jorah gives a grim look, "He passed some time ago." Areon's eyes widen at this as Jorah continues, "But not before his braid was cut off for his defeat."
Areon couldn't comprehend it. He killed someone with his bare hands. "I didn't mean to…"
"He hurt the Khaleesi," Jorah calmly tells him, "It was just. Although a bit surprising."
"I…don't know where that came from…I…" Areon tries to say, but is still at a loss for words, "I just…I remembered when Viserys used to do that to us…to me. When he beat me."
Before Jorah could say anything, Dany stirred as she began to wake up, "Areon, Ser Jorah?"
Seeing his sister waking up, Areon immediately approached her, stroking her head, "Dany, you're ok?"
Dany was about to say something, but her mind went to a more posing question, "My son…Where is he?"
Areon didn't know how to tell her the truth, but knowing she had to know, he said, "Dany…. Rhaego didn't make it.
Dany's eyes widen with grief when she hears her son is dead, "Tell me?"
"Dany," Areon said, knowing his sister wanted to know more.
"How did my son die," Dany demanded as tears formed in her eyes.
"He never lived, my princess," Ser Jorah admits, "The women say-"
"What do the women say," Dany asked.
"They said Rhaego was," Areon begins to say before trailing off.
"Was what," Dany asked. Seeing her brother and knight were not giving her the answer, she pressed further, "Was what?!"
Areon took a deep breath, "He was deformed. He had scales on his skin and wings like a bat….it was horrifying."
"I need to see him," Dany tries to get up.
"No, Dany," Areon begs her, "You don't need to see it."
"He's my son," Dany yells, "I need to see him. I don't believe you."
"Dany," Areon grabs her shoulders before staring intently at her, "I saw it myself…He's gone."
Dany didn't want to believe it. She wants her son to be alive, but seeing the look in her brother's eyes, she can tell he is telling the truth. Rhaego is gone. After staying quiet momentarily, Dany asked, "Where is Khal Drogo? Show him to me."
"You need to rest," Areon tried to dissuade her, but Dany was not moved.
"Show me," his sister demands, "Show me what I bought with my son's life."
After hearing those words, Areon realized there was no way to sway her, so he relented. He grabs her hands, helps her up, walking out of the tent since she is still weak from the birth.
"The Khalasar is gone," Dany saw as they walked, with Jorah close behind them.
"I tried to get them to stay, but," Areon begins to say before trailing off.
"A khal who cannot ride is no khal," Jorah said, "The Dothraki follow only the strong. I'm sorry, my Princess."
Areon led his sister to her husband, sitting on the ground, leaning back on a boulder covered with a blanket, staring out into the distance. Seeing her husband, Dany immediately went to him, "Drogo! My sun and stars. Why is he out here alone?"
"He seems to like the warmth, Princess," Jorah said.
"Why is he like this," Dany asked.
"All she said was death paid for life," Areon turns to Jorah, "Get the witch and bring her here."
Jorah obeyed as he went to get the woman. When retrieving her, Areon asks, "Tell her. How did this happen?"
"She asked for life," the witch said, "She paid for life."
Seeing Drogo in this catatonic state, Dany exclaims, "This is not life. When will he be as he was?"
Mirri Maz Duur then cryptically said, "When the sun rises in the west, it sets in the east, when the seas go dry. When the mountains blow in the wind like leaves."
After hearing this, Dany could do nothing but look at her husband with despair. She did this. She wanted her husband to save her, but all she did was doom him to more suffering. Areon, infuriated by this, grabs the witch by her arm, dragging her away. Ser Jorah was about to follow him, but the Targaryen ordered him to stay at his sister's side.
When they were far enough, Areon tells her, "You knew exactly what the price was."
Mirri Maz Duur then said, "It was wrong of them to burn my temple. It angered the Great Shepherd."
"So this is your god's work?" Areon exclaims angrily, "Taking the life of an unborn babe? Rhaego was innocent."
"Innocent," Mirri Maz Duur scoffs, "He would have been The Stallion Who Mounts The World. Now, he will burn no cities. Now his Khalasar will trample no nations into dust."
"We weren't staying here; we were going to Westeros," Areon tells her, "to reclaim what was taken from us."
"From you. That was your reasoning, but the Khalasar wanted to simply bring destruction and death to them. The people there would have suffered the same fate as all others had when invaded by the Dothraki," the witch woman challenges the young boy, "All in your name. Would they not?"
Areon went silent when she said those words. He was still fuming, but she was saying the truth. He can't deny that Drogo and his Khalasar would have brought terror to Westeros just for him to be on the Iron Throne, something he admittedly wasn't sure he wanted, "I could have stopped it if it came to that." The witch laughed at the boy's naivety, "I would. My sister, most definitely. She's done it before with you. She spoke for you. She saved you."
"Saved me," Mirri Maz Durr repeated with disdain in her voice, "Three of those riders had already raped me before your sister saved me, boy. I saw my god's house burn, where I had healed men and women beyond counting. In the streets, I saw piles of heads: the head of the baker who makes my bread, the head of a young boy that I had cured of fever just three moons past. So tell me again, exactly what it was that the Khaleesi saved?"
Areon stayed quiet from Mirri's words. The suffering she went through from the Dothraki. He couldn't help but feel guilty. Her village was destroyed in his name. The Dothraki was burning down her village and enslaving her people to buy gold and ships for his return to the Iron Throne. But it didn't give this woman a reason to kill an unborn child, especially since the mother saved her when she could have left her to die. "Your home was destroyed. Your people suffered and lost their lives and I am sorry for that. But they could have killed you, and my sister saved you twice. Before in your village and again when the Dothraki wanted to harm you for helping Drogo. She saved your life."
Mirri Maz Duur then gives a side glance to Drogo, stating, "Why don't you take a look at your khal? Then you will see exactly what life is worth when all the rest has gone."
Areon looks at Drogo and his sister. He didn't know what to do. He felt like he was drowning in everything. He can't fathom how all of this could happen.
0000000000
While Tyrion was preparing to leave for the capital, Gerold received a message that his father demanded his presence in the war tent. Immediately obeying the command, Gerold goes to the war tent to see his father looking at the hanging battle map with his back turned.
Wondering why he was summoned, Gerold made his presence known, "Father?"
Tywin slowly turns around, giving a blank look that his son can't read. After a few seconds, Tywin gestures to the seat beside him, "Sit."
Feeling a bit tense by this, Gerold quickly obeys, sitting at the seat while Tywin goes to his own, "It seems you were correct in your concerns to Robb Stark. He's not a green boy. He's clever, calculating and is willing to sacrifice his men to achieve victory."
Gerold didn't say anything as he wasn't sure what to say. He was stunned that his father admitted he was right, but wasn't sure where this was going.
Tywin continues, "Eddard Stark is dead and now we only have one Stark left in the capital. Meaning that we will be fighting a war and Robb Stark will keep on fighting. Do you think he can win more battles?"
Thinking of what to say, Gerold says, "It doesn't matter how many battles are won and lost, but who's still standing in the end."
Tywin gives an agreeing hum, "Yes. That is true. Then I suppose you can formulate our next course of action."
Gerold's eyes widen by this. Usually, he's been in war councils to learn about military tactics, but now he's making them. Seeing this reaction, Tywin gestures at the large hanging map behind them, "You proved to know about our enemy in the council meeting. Now, you can strategize our next move on the battlefield."
This still took Gerold aback. He never thought his father would ask him to plot their next move. But seeing his father waiting for an answer, Gerold looks to the map, contemplating what to do next. "We should go to Harrenhal."
"Harrenhal," Tywin repeats.
"It's a good place to make our base and gain a foothold of the South while we make our next move," Gerold explains while standing up to point at the map where Harrenhal is. "It also provides enough room to house an army and for defense if the Northerners come attacking us again. There's also some villagers there who can help us manage it during our time there."
Tywin gazes at the map, then Gerold, and back at the map, causing the young Lannister to hold his breath, awaiting his father's reaction. After a few seconds of silence, Tywin said, "Very well. We will make ready for Harrenhal."
Tywin gets up from his chair to leave the tent while saying, "Your brother will go to the capital in my stead as Hand of the King and hopefully bring order there. Lenora, mayhap, could give him aid."
"Yes, Tyrion told me this," Gerold said, a little shaken by what his father was asking him, "Cersei may not like that."
"Her thinking is of no concern," Tywin dismissed, "And she obviously needs more help than she cares to admit."
Gerold nods in agreement, "I'm surprised that you trust Tyrion with this."
"He can do more there than the battlefield," Tywin explains while leaving the tent, "He just needed the opportunity."
Gerold watches his father leave the tent but can hear those words. His father listened to his words about Tyrion. He asked for his counsel, not as a lesson but as a genuine request. His father listened to his counsel and agreed to it. He wasn't sure how to feel about it, but he couldn't deny he felt a bit glad about it.
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Morning breaks as Jarred gazes over the calm sea, the gentle waves guiding the longship. The crew, provided by the crown, is prepared for the seven-day journey from the capital to the island of Dawn Isle. The island is located on the southern part of Massey's Hook and is home to House Longwaters, while the port city, Seaside Harbor, is located on the mainland. Jarred hasn't been home in years, even though he lived there only a handful of years. He and his brother, Steffon, were both born in King's Landing and their father was a member of King Aerys II's small council, while their mother was a lady in waiting to Queen Rhaella, making the family live in the Red Keep. They occasionally visited their father's holdfast, but duty often called him back to the capital.
All that changed, however, when Robert Baratheon, after becoming King, dismissed Lord Jonathor from his position of Master of Trade, an office he created himself while serving the Mad King. While he never showed his anger publicly and always kept his emotion in check, many who knew him well, could tell Lord Jonathor was furious about the dismissal, especially since Robert gave the position to his wife, Lady Hellen, which some lords can find humiliating. While his wife stayed at the capital for court duties, Jonathor took his sons and left for Dawn Isle. It wasn't until a few years later, after the Greyjoy Rebellion, did Lady Hellen convinced her husband to return their sons to court, to which Lord Jonathor only agreed to let Jarred come to court after he expressed his desire to join the Kingsguard, while Steffon to stayed home to be prepared to take lordship of their House.
After a long seven-day journey, the longship finally arrives at Dawn Isle. Jarred glances towards the horizon from the ship as his eyes fall upon the majestic island. The castle, with its towering turrets, is a sight to behold, standing tall and proud on the small island along with some small houses placed below on the castle walls, mainly for some common people and servants who work there.
Across from the island, Ser Jarred could see Seaside Harbor on the coast of the mainland, a bustling port city with ships from far-off lands. Merchants bustled about, haggling and trading goods, while sailors worked to unload cargo from the decks. Among the ships docked at the harbor were the legendary Swan Ships from the Summer Isles, their white sails billowing in the wind. These great vessels were renowned for their speed and agility, yet vulnerable when becalmed. However, the most impressive sight was the Longwater fleet, which consisted of over 200 ships, primarily galleys, cogs, carracks, and longships. Each ship was impressive, as some were for voyages and others were for warfare.
As the longship approaches the island, it docks at the castle's bustling port. Jarred steps off the ship and is met by a man he recognizes. The man is tall, with olive skin, brown eyes, short black hair streaked with silver, and a semi-black-gray beard, giving him a distinguished look.
"Welcome home, Ser Jarred Longwaters," the man said with a heavy accent.
"Captain Nikados Saniris of the Longwater Fleet," Jarred greeted as the two men chuckled, grasping each other's forearms and hugging.
"You haven't been at Dawn Isle for many a year," Nikados said as they broke the hug.
Jarred shrugs, "Well, court life has kept me from coming here."
"Yes, yes," Nikados nods his head, "How is your mother?"
"She could be better," Jarred tells him honestly, unsure if he should tell people about the position she is in, even with close friends, "That is what I came to see my father about actually."
"Hm. Well, he's in his solar room, as always. Come," Nikados guides the young knight inside the castle.
As the young knight and the old captain enter the castle, they walk down the court halls, passing by some servants who seem surprised by their sudden presence. The servants bow their heads to Jarred, who left for the capital when he was only twelve years old. Despite his absence, there is still a lingering sense of familiarity around him, as he remembers running through the halls with his brother, Steffon, when they were small boys.
The halls are incredibly vast, with tapestries hanging on one side of the walls and stained glass windows on the other. These windows depict many lands of Westeros and far-off places. The luxurious rugs covering the floor, no doubt obtained from the Free Cities of Essos along with, banners hanging from the ceiling, carrying the House Longwaters sigil of the white sea dragon on a black field.
"How's everything been here," Jarred asked.
"Normal as usual," Nikados answered as they walked, "Merchants coming here and there. Making deals with the Free Cities, there hasn't been any sightings of pirates for a long while. Well, not our way anyways."
"And what of Steffon," Jarred asked, "Any word of him?"
"Last we heard, he's doing well in Qarth," Nikados answered, "Meeting grand merchant princes, learning all about trade and politics."
"Has anyone heard of Ned Stark," Jarred asked again.
Nikados gave out a sigh, "Yes, a few days ago. Such a tragedy. He was always an honorable man, a good man to fight with during the Greyjoy Rebellion. Hard to imagine he was guilty of treason."
As Jarred and his companion walk along, the vastness of Lord Jonathor Longwaters' solar room comes into view. It is large enough to have a fireplace on the wall with a large couch in front of it, along with maps of the Narrow Sea, Westeros, and Essos on the other side of the room. There are shelves of many books and a globe of the world as well nearby a large balcony where Lord Jonathor Longwaters stands, gazing out to the Narrow Sea, giving the view of the sun still rising which gives Dawn Isle its name since everyone can see the sun rise at dawn every day.
"Father," Jarred exclaims softly while Nikados bows his head to his lord, who turns around. Lord Jonathor stands tall at six foot two, a little taller than Jarred. He has fair skin, striking brown eyes, and long blonde hair, although some think it is slightly silver-gold which could be due to his Targaryen and Velaryon ancestry, brushed back where it falls down his mid-back, along with a light stubbled beard. He is dressed in black pants and boots, paired with an elaborate black tunic, brocaded with small designs of white sea dragons running from his chest down to his navel, in adherence to his house colors and sigil.
"Jarred," Jonathor greets with a warm smile as he leaves the balcony to his son.
"I'll give you both some privacy," Nikados said as he left the solar room.
"Thank you, Nikados," Jonathor said before the captain left the father and son alone. Once the door was closed, Jonathor approached his son, chuckling while embracing him tightly, "It's been so long."
Jarred, hugging his father back, said, "Yes. I wish I could visit more often, but.."
"Sworn shield to the princess, yes," Jonathan said as he gestured for his son to sit with him on the couch, "How is Cassana?"
"She's fine," Jarred mutters, fidgeting while shifting in his seat. At the same time, he slightly avoids eye contact with his father, still remembering he slept with Cassana for the first time since their affair ended before leaving the capital, which made him conflicted.
His father, noticing this, raised his brow but decided to get into it later. "I received word from your mother. About Ned Stark."
"Nikados and I were talking about it," Jarred tells him, "Mother told you?"
Jonathor nods, "She sent me a raven right after it happened. Eddard Stark was a good man, but the capital was not the place for him. Too honorable."
"I can only imagine Sansa's grief in this," Jarred said.
Jonathor asked, "I take it you haven't found Arya Stark yet? Your mother also mentioned you were tasked on finding her since you were with her last."
Jarred thought about Arya and how he let her go with Yoren. He has no idea where she is now but hopes she is safe. "Yes, I was and no I haven't found her. And the new King said that it was no longer my concern since I haven't been successful."
"Ah, yes," Jonathor sighs, "King Joffrey Baratheon, whose first order as king was to cut off Ned Stark's head, which plunged the whole realm to war."
"Supposedly for treason," Jarred said, "Do you believe that?"
Jonathan scoffs, "Ned was many things, but the only crime he ever committed had a bastard after his marriage to Catelyn Tully."
"I guess you know about the Starks and Lannisters," Jarred guessed.
"Everyone knows," Jonathor said, "Practically tearing each other a part and now with Ned dead, it's only going to get worse. That's why they sent you here, isn't it?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Jarred admitted, "Joffrey and Cersei have…. questioned the loyalty of House Longwaters."
Jonathor then gives a severe look, "Have they?"
"They said that they haven't received any word of us giving support and loyalty," Jarred continues, "and they want you to come to King's Landing and swear fealty to Joffrey."
Jonathor's eyes drifted around as if he were deep in thought. In a couple of seconds, he turns back to his son, "Your mother is a member of the Small Council. Surely they would,"
"She thought so as well," Jarred cuts him off, "But it's not enough. They want you to come to court yourself. And to ensure that you would… they imprisoned mother."
Jonathor's eyes widen by this and asked in a low voice, "What?"
"They said that she'll be waiting comfortably in her chambers until they know for certain that you will be fighting with them," Jarred said as his father stood from the couch, slowly walking back to the balcony. "She's practically a prisoner in the Red Keep in all but name."
"Just like before," Jonathor mutters, remembering when Mad King Aerys made his wife a prisoner during Robert's Rebellion. He turns back to his son, "We have proven our loyalties to the Baratheons by fighting with them in the Greyjoy Rebellion. You were a squire for Robert, however short it was. Not to mention, we are bound by blood, and, after all these years, now they are questioning where our loyalty lies?"
"It appears so," Jarred said, "The reason for this is because Renly ran off with the Tyrells moments before Ned Stark's arrest, and Stannis is at Dragonstone, for some reason, building ships and an army."
"Yes, I am aware of what Stannis is doing," Jonathor said, "Apparently there is someone there that is giving him... 'council' of some sorts. As for Renly, well, it seems the seeds the Tyrells planted now bears fruit."
Before Jarred could ask what that means, the doors opened, revealing another familiar face.
"Maester Samurel," Jarred gets up from the couch.
"Ser Jarred," Maester Samurel greeted, "It's been so long since your last presence at Dawn Isle."
"Yes. It's been a long while," Jarred greeted with a warm smile. The maester was seventy-four years old, heavy set, and bald with thinning white hair. Jarred had known him for all his life, as the maester helped in delivering Jarred and Steffon when they were born.
"How's your mother," the old maester said.
"Well," Jarred begins to say.
Jonathor, however, cuts him off, "It seems the crown is having her as a prisoner at the Red Keep until I come to swear allegiance to the Iron Throne. More specifically, Joffrey Baratheon."
"What," Samurel asked in confusion.
"Our loyalties have been questioned," Jonathor clarifies, "Mainly because Hellen's brothers left the capital raising armies for themselves, trying to be King for… whatever reason they have."
"Oh. Then I suppose the news I have come to bring you won't be a surprise," Samurel said, causing the father and son to look at him. "A message from Stannis Baratheon."
"From Stannis," Jonathor asked in surprise. Samurel held out his hand that held a raven scroll. Seeing this, Jonathor said, "Read it."
Obeying his lord, Maester Samurel opened the scroll and read its content, "My dear good brother, as you are aware, Robert Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, has passed. But it grieves me for what I must say is that Princess Cassana Baratheon is the only trueborn child of King Robert left behind. Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella are born of incest between Cersei Lannister and Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of Westeros. As all men should declare their true loyalty, I wish to remind you of the family bonds we share. As my sister's husband and good brother-by-law, I urge you to follow the laws of succession and support my claim to the Iron Thorne."
As Maester Samurel finishes reading the letter, he looks up to see Jarred's eyes widen at what he just heard. "Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella? Bastards by Cersei and Jaime? But that would be treason and incest. They could be executed for this, all of them."
Jonathor, however, stayed where he was, stoic-faced, "Any word of Renly?"
Samurel shook his head, "No, my lord. But there has been word that he has been crowned King in the Reach."
Jonathor sighs as he turns back to the balcony while Jarred slowly sits down as he tries to process all the news. Renly and Stannis proclaim themselves kings, the incest between Cersei and Jaime. He wonders if Cass knows about any of this. "So, Renly and Stannis will be fighting for the throne."
"It appears so," Samurel confirmed.
"But… mother and," Jarred trails off before turning to his father, "What do we do about her? If Joffrey finds out we have this letter,"
"The whole realm will be taking sides," Samurel said, "Not to mention the fighting between the Stark and the Lannisters. Last I heard, Ser Jaime has been captured and is a prisoner for Robb Stark."
"And if Stannis's letter is true," Jarred asked, "If Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella are bastards… It can't be true. Robert would have done something if he,"
"It was no secret that the late king drank and whore his life away," Samurel stated, "More likely, he wasn't paying any attention to anything when it came to the realm."
"So, what do we do," Jarred asked, looking to his father for an answer.
Jonathor stayed where he was, contemplating his options. Right now, his wife is a prisoner, both of his brothers by law are proclaiming themselves kings, and now there is a civil war between the Starks and the Lannisters. After taking a few moments to breathe, Jonathor turns back to his son and the master, "Have a ship ready."
"Father," Jarred questions.
"We are going to King's Landing," Jonathor explains, "To swear fealty to the new king."
"But with what we just heard," Jarred tries to say.
"Whether it is true or not, Cersei and her father will never admit to that," Jonathon tells him, "I've known Lord Tywin Lannister for quite some time, and I know how effective he is. In politics and war. As long as Joffrey has his support, he might stay on the throne."
"But," Jarred tries to say.
Jonathor, however, said, "Tywin started a war when Catelyn Stark kidnapped his son, Tyrion. What do you think he'll do if his grandson's legitimacy is being questioned?"
Jarred couldn't answer the question, but he could see what his father was saying.
"Besides, your mother is in the Red Keep. They have the advantage," Jonathor concluded. "We need to get ready."
Jarred nods his head in agreement. All that matters to him is his mother. After some more talking, Jarred left the solar room to get ready for the journey. Meanwhile, Jonathor and Maester Samurel stayed behind.
"Are you certain of this, my lord," Samurel asked, "Considering your…condition."
"My wife is a prisoner, Samurel. I have no choice," Jonathor tells him before coming up to the old maester, asking in a low voice, "Is there any word from the spider? From the East?"
"No, my lord," Samurel said, "Nothing yet."
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The sun was setting as what little was left of the Khalasar made camp, still waiting for any change of their Khal, while Mirri Maz Durr was tied in a tent as a prisoner. Since Drogo was still lying around doing nothing, and Daenerys refused to leave his side, Areon took control. Mostly. He ordered everyone to wait until there was any change from Drogo, but he didn't expect them to obey. It has been days and nothing. All Areon could do was sit in front of the campfire and look at the flames, which made him think about his dreams and, more importantly, the recent dream, but there was nothing different in it. He was in the middle of a desert terrain with a red comet flying over him as he stood before a great pyre of fire with Drogo inside. No changes. However, it did confirm that he foresaw Drogo's death, just as he did with Viserys. What does it mean? Does it mean that Areon could have stopped it? Now, he wishes he had told Drogo about his dream but doubts the Khal would have done anything; then again, Dothraki was suspicious of omens. Regardless, what's done is done, and Drogo isn't dead, not yet, anyway, but Areon feels it is coming soon. His thoughts were interrupted as Jorah walked up to him and knelt to his side.
"Any changes," Areon asked the older knight.
"No, my King," Jorah said.
Aeron chuckles a bit, "King. It feels so strange to be called that."
"You are the last male heir of House Targaryen," Jorah said, "The Iron Throne would be yours."
"Maybe," Areon said softly, although he still wasn't sure if he wanted it. All he wants now is for him and his sister to be safe. "What's going to happen to us now?"
Jorah gives a sympathetic look, "You still have the dragon eggs. Khaleesi could sell them in the Free Cities. You'd both be living as wealthy people for your last days."
Areon thought about it. However, when Jorah mentioned the eggs, it made him think about his dreams. He had it again last night, and it was the same one—Drogo in the burning pyre with a red comet flying through the sky. The eggs were in the pyre, and he saw himself walking inside it. As the flames were burning, the eggs hatched. Then the dream ended with baby dragons in his hands as the flames grew hotter and hotter until he woke up. "I think Drogo is going to die."
Jorah looks at him, "With certainty?"
"Do you remember the dream I told you about," Areon asked, "About the red comet and the dragon eggs?"
"You said they hatched," Jorah remembers, "But it could be nothing more than simple dreams."
"Not if they were the same dream over and over again," Areon said, "They might be more than that. Because…"
Noticing that Areon is a bit apprehensive, Jorah urges him, "Because what?"
Areon slowly turns to Jorah, "I saw Drogo in the pyre…dead. Long before." Jorah burrowed his brow as Areon continued, "And it's not the first time I saw this happen. I dreamt of Viserys's death before it happened, too. What if my dreams aren't just dreams…..What if they come true? You know, Viserys said many things about Westeros and House Targaryen," Areon begins to say, "And he also mentioned Daenys the Dreamer and how she foresaw the Doom of Valyria. What if I'm having these same dreams? Like she did?"
Jorah kept looking at Areon, unsure what to say about all this. This Targaryen boy had just told him about dreams that come true. What if he was going mad like his father did? Although the knight doubts Areon knows about that. "That was almost three centuries ago, Your Grace,"
Areon, however, was unconvinced, "Yes, but what if it is that…I mean…. I just," suddenly Areon stopped talking as he was looking up at the sky as he was wondering if he was having prophetic dreams until he saw something in the sky. A red flare was bleeding through the sky. The sun was still setting, but the comet was bright enough to see. Areon immediately got up from the ground while Jorah followed suit. "The comet. It's here. Like my dream."
"Could be many things," Jorah dismissed, although he must admit, it was strange to see one when Areon had a dream about it not long ago.
Before Areon could say anything, he saw his sister coming out of her tent, red-eyed and puffy, as if she were crying. Areon quickly rushes to her side, asking, "He's gone. Isn't he?"
"Just like you said," Dany trembled, "I had to end his suffering."
"End his suffering," Areon wonders from those words, until it dawned on him, "Oh, Dany," he embraces his sister as she collapses to the ground, crying for her husband's death.
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Once word spread of Khal's death, the small group of the remaining people were building the funeral pyre for the dead body. Dany stood inside the tent, next to Drogo's corpse, in a seemingly catatonic state, still wishing it didn't have to be this way. Wanting to see if she is alright, Areon enters the tent, "Dany…Are you alright?"
"I should've listened to you," Dany said, "When you warned me. But I didn't listen."
"You were worried for your husband," Areon tries to tell her, putting his hand on her shoulder.
"But you dreamt it," Dany said, "And it came true. Just like you said."
"Dany," Areon sighed, wishing he could take the pain his sister was feeling.
"What else did you dream about," Dany asked suddenly.
"What," Areon asked in confusion.
"When you had the dream," Dany turns to her brother, "What did you dream about?"
"Dany," Areon exclaimed, unsure why she would ask this.
Dany grabs his hands into hers, "If you dreamed of something else, then it will come true again. It happened with Viserys, didn't it?"
Areon didn't say anything but nodded his head slightly since what his sister was saying was true.
"What else did you dream about," Dany asked him more earnestly.
Seeing his sister's pleading look, Areon took a breath, but not before seeing the dragon eggs in a nearby chest, to which Dany noticed, "A red comet was flying through the sky. I was in the pyre with Drogo's body on it, and the dragon eggs were there. The pyre was burning, but I was feeling no pain, even when my clothes and hair were burning. Then I looked down to see the eggs in my hands. They started hatching."
"Did they hatch," Dany asked, "Did you see dragons?"
Areon stayed silent momentarily as the dream was still in his head, vividly, "Yes. They did."
0000000000
After some time, the funeral pyre was finished, and the body of Khal Drogo was placed on it while, under Dany's orders, Rakharo and Aggo placed the dragon eggs in the pyre.
"Drogo will have no use for dragon eggs in the Night Lands," Jorah advises, "Sell them. You can both return to the Free Cities and live wealthy lives all day."
"They were not given to me to sell," Daenerys denies as she turns to Areon, "If we put them in the fire, will they hatch?"
"That's how it happened in my dreams," Areon said as he stared at the pyre; everything seemed more and more like what he had dreamt.
Jorah, hoping to be the voice of reason, begs Areon, "My King, I vow to serve you, obey you, to die for you if need be, but I know what you intend. Do not."
Areon slowly turns to Jorah, seeing the older knight looking at him like a madman, "My dreams come true. Everything I dreamt of was here. Bring the witch." Jorah was about to say something, but Areon stopped him, "You said you would obey me."
Seeing there was no stopping this, Jorah reluctantly obeyed. As Areon turns back to the pyre, he looks up and sees the red comet bleeding through the sky as it had from his dreams.
Daenerys looks to the small gathering of people who stayed, "You will be my Khalasar. I see the faces of slaves. I free you. Take off your collars. Go if you wish; no one will stop you. But if you stay, it will be as brothers and sisters, as husbands and wives."
As she said this, Jorah brought forth Mirri Maz Durr with her hands tied to her back and forced her to her knees. When Daenerys was done, many Dothraki and Lhazareen left them and went on their paths, making the group of people with them even smaller. Mirri Maz Durr, seeing this, couldn't help but smirk while shaking her head, thinking the girl was foolish for thinking the people would stay.
"Ser Jorah, bind this woman to the pyre," Areon ordered as Jorah obeyed.
As Areon kept staring at the comet, Dany faced the crowd before her, "I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen of the blood of old Valyria. I am the Dragon's daughter. And I swear to you that those who would harm you will die screaming."
"You will not hear me scream," Mirri Maz Durr exclaimed as Jorah tied her to the pyre.
"Your scream is not needed," Areon said, still staring at the comet, "Only your life."
As Jorah, Dany, and Areon watched, the Khaleesi picked up a lit torch from the campfire and approached the pyre. She slowly lit it on fire as Mirri Maz Duur began chanting an incantation, which quickly turned into screams as the flames began to burn her skin. Areon gazed at the pyre, which looked exactly like his dream: the burning pyre, Drogo's body, the dragon eggs, a woman shrieking in pain, and the red comet flying over it all in a deserted terrain.
Without uttering a word, Areon slowly began to approach the pyre. Jorah was about to stop him, but Dany prevented this. She was afraid for her brother, but his dreams had been coming true with Viserys and Drogo's death, so she wondered if the dragon eggs hatching would come true, too. However, it was too late as Areon walked through the flames as he did in his dream. Everyone watched in silence, kneeling to see what would happen.
Areon's leather boots began to be consumed by the flames, but he did not scream. His Dothraki clothes caught fire, but he did not say a word. Even as his silver-gold hair burned away, Areon remained unfazed. He just kept walking through the flames until he reached the dragon eggs, surrounded by the fiercely burning and bright flames of the pyre, hearing Mirri Maz Duur screaming in agony as the flames consumed her.
Morning breaks as everyone who slept on the ground wakes up and sees that the pyre is gone. All that is left is soot, ashes, and charred wood scattered around. Dany and Jorah wake up and walk towards the pyre to check if Areon is alive or dead. They walk through the remains of the funeral pyre, and as they approach the center, where there should be a charred corpse, their eyes widen with shock and disbelief. To their surprise, Areon is sitting on the ground, alive. He is covered in ash, bald, and naked as his hair and clothes have been burned away, but he is alive and seemingly unfazed by what has happened. Areon looks up at his sister and the Westerosi knight, completely bewildered by what they see. He looks at himself, realizing that he is naked, and then touches his head, noticing that he is bald, just like in his dream. Suddenly, a small chirping can be heard. Areon feels something crawling around his hands, and when he looks down, he sees two newborn dragons in his hands. One is green, and the other is gold. Then he feels something crawling up his shoulder and sees that it is a black newborn dragon, screeching as it makes its way onto his shoulders.
Dany and Jorah, and everyone else who had gathered to witness Areon surviving the fire, were overwhelmed by what they saw. Areon walked into the blazing pyre, and from the long-dead eggs, three baby dragons had hatched, and he remained unscathed. It was an incomprehensible sight that left everyone in awe. Of all the people present, Jorah was perhaps the most astonished, as he had witnessed Areon's dream becoming a reality. Not knowing what else to do, Jorah immediately bowed to the ground, proclaiming, "Blood of my blood."
Dany's heart swells with joy as she sees her brother alive and well, and the sight of three dragons leaves her breathless. Dragons have been extinct for ages, but here they are, right before her eyes. Overcome with emotion, Dany immediately falls to the ground, tears streaming down her face. The others follow suit, bowing before Areon as he stands tall, cradling the two baby dragons and the third perched on his shoulder. Though Areon is speechless and still reeling from what he just experienced, his eyes shine with wonder as the dragon staying on his shoulder spreads its wings and lets out a small yet deafening screech. It is a moment that none of them will ever forget, for they have witnessed the rebirth of what was long dead. For the first time in over a hundred years, a dragon's cry filled the air, singing a song of their return.
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