Chapter 26: A New Era

"What happened?" Rylon asked when he arrived the next morning.

Aemond was sitting on the balcony of his room with a bottle of wine in hand. Hours had passed since he had set aside his glass, finding it more practical to drink straight from the bottle than to refill the glass repeatedly for a single gulp.

That was how the entire week went. All he did was eat, drink, and sit out there. He didn't even sleep in his bed. He merely gazed at the horizon, interacting with no one but Viserion, who occasionally flew to the top of the pyramid and kept him company for hours until Rhaegal and Drogon called him away.

Daenerys was fed up. She had thought she married a formidable warrior from Essos, but instead, she ended up alone every night because her husband was a depressed fool with alcoholic tendencies. How was he any different from Viserys? Just another burden for her.

That afternoon, she decided she would talk to him.

"Aemond," she said, stepping out onto the terrace, "we need to talk."

"What do you want to talk about?" Surprisingly, his voice was calm, somewhat hoarse, but he did not seem angry or upset about what had happened.

"You can't be like this all day anymore," she demanded authoritatively, unfazed by his glassy violet eyes staring at her.

"And what do you want me to do? Rule the city? You're doing a great job with that. Command the armies? You have Grey Worm, Daario, and Ser Barristan," he said, setting the bottle on the table and standing up to approach her, though he never threatened her. "I don't see what I can do to help."

"There are many things you can do. The Golden Company wasn't your only duty. Just because they are no longer here doesn't mean you have nothing to do."

"In fact, they were all I had, my only family since my father died," he looked at her so intently that anyone could have seen his soul, but in her case, all Daenerys saw was loneliness and emptiness. She was familiar with that feeling. "They were all I was, and I wasn't able to keep them by my side."

"Come with me."

At first, Aemond hesitated to follow her, but when his mind asked, "Why not?" he had no answer, so he simply walked beside her the entire way. People were already surprised to see him walking the halls of the pyramid. Since the incident, he had only been in his room, receiving the occasional visitor but none who made him leave like the queen had just done.

"Where are we going?" he asked about twice, but Dany only asked him to trust her. He didn't want to, something inside him told him he shouldn't, but honestly, he trusted her.

Outside the pyramid, they walked to the back under the harsh sun of Essos, to which Aemond was no longer accustomed after being sheltered by the palosanto. He soon realized where they were going, especially when he began to smell the putrid stench of rotting animal carcasses. They were carrying them with the dragons.

Drogon was flying with Rhaegal on one side of the pyramid while Viserion entertained himself with a piece of meat, probably beef, but as soon as he saw Aemond, he hurried to his side with a swift flap of his wings. They were much larger compared to their size when he first met them. Soon they would be the size of a cow if they kept growing like this.

"Do you see? This is what you are, what we are," she said, watching as Drogon landed to be with her, brushing his scales against her linen dress. "The dragons and we are one. They are our family. We are family, not because we are married, but because we share the same dragon blood," she gave him a peaceful smile. "When Drogo died, I thought I was alone, without family, without anything, but it was they who showed me I would never be alone," she stroked Rhaegal with her other hand. "And I think it's time I give you my wedding gift."

"What?" Dany nodded towards Viserion, who had rested his enormous head on Aemond's hand. "Viserion?"

"We won't conquer the Seven Kingdoms with me alone on a dragon."

For the first time in a long time, he felt accompanied. It was like being with his father again, like having a family of his own. She was right; being married made them a family, but their bond also stretched back centuries, when the Blackfyres were still Targaryens. If history had been different, they might have ended up being siblings.

But no, they were two people who had met briefly in their childhood, reconnected years later, and were now married. Of course, Aemond had thought that now that he had lost the company, Daenerys wouldn't take long to send assassins to slit his throat. After all, he no longer contributed much in terms of military terms, but no, she gave him a dragon, told him they were formed from the same blood, the same fire, and that together they would conquer the Seven Kingdoms.

He could see this as an advantage; he no longer had ten thousand men telling him he should kill her in her sleep, calling him a traitor for following her. Now he could simply admire her for all she had achieved, be her husband, and together fight anyone who dared to face them. Just as she said, they were the blood of the dragon.

Later, they returned to the pyramid. Aemond accompanied his wife to the meeting room and, with a kiss on her hand, bid her farewell. Call it affection or formality, but he did it with a smile. He stood in the throne room, looking at the ebony step where Dany sat, claiming it as her throne. That wasn't her throne, nor was it anything close to what she deserved. They should sit on thousands of swords from the conqueror's enemies. That's where they belonged.

He looked at the Unsullied guarding the place. In Westeros, they would be white cloaks, royal guards, men willing to give everything for the safety of the monarch. That's what he needed, not an army of mercenaries who would abandon him as soon as they could. And then he thought of what he needed to do.

He met Rylon halfway to the outside. The Dornishman, feeling guilty for not being there when they needed him, bowed to his king and lowered his gaze timidly.

"Come with me to the camp," the platinum-haired man requested, placing a hand on Rylon's shoulder with a smile. "I have an announcement to make."

"To the camp?" Rylon asked, confused, though he immediately prepared to follow.

"Yes. Do you have any idea how many men are left?"

"About a hundred and forty. Most are old and workers, not worth much."

"They will be."

With the help of their horses, they arrived at the camp, which was five times smaller than before. There were twenty tents in total, and the pace of the men had decreased considerably. The elephants were gone, as were the horses, weapons, and food. The remaining men lived off supplies from Meereen. It was a pitiful place to be.

"Move, the king is coming!" a gruff, male, and angry voice called out. Ser Royland greeted him.

"Ser Royland, I'm glad you were one of those who stayed," he said after the elder man bowed.

"A vow is a vow. Any bootlicker who breaks it doesn't deserve to wear the golden armor."

"That's what I wanted to talk about," he looked around, hoping it would work. "Rylon tells me that a hundred and forty men stayed, is that true?" Ser Royland nodded. "Can we trust them all?"

"Yes, I made sure of that. Sixty are warriors, some old, some young, but loyal. The rest are blacksmiths, bakers, herders, and hunters."

"Gather them all. I want to speak to them," with so few, it would take at most fifteen minutes for them to assemble in the center of the camp, and although it seemed lamentable, Aemond appreciated the speed. "The first thing I'll tell them is that I appreciate their staying. I'd rather have two hundred loyal men than ten thousand traitors. I know not all are warriors, nor do all want to be on the battlefield. But don't worry, this is no longer the Golden Company. That company has gone through the city gates and will never return. I won't force you to fight, follow me, or work for me; you can leave if you want, but while you are here, you will serve according to your skills."

"Are you talking about forming another company?" Rylon asked, along with Ser Royland, who were watching Aemond patiently.

"Not another company, we are no longer mercenaries, at least I am not," he took a deep breath. "I'm talking about forming a new army. An army of loyal men, free men, strong men. An army that the whole world will fear. We will recruit warriors who will wear our colors. No more gold. I want that when people think of us, black comes to mind," he looked at the emblem embroidered on his clothing and smiled. "The Black Cloaks seems like a good name. No more contracts or empty promises. Just our sword," he stepped down from the small platform he had climbed to make his voice heard by everyone. "Tomorrow I will come back, and I hope that everyone will have made their decision. Those who wish to stay will wear a black cloak; those who don't, may leave."

"When did you come up with this?" Rylon asked once they moved away from everyone toward their horses.

"Minutes before I ran into you in the hallway," he answered with an amused look. "I can't rule the Seven Kingdoms if I continue to behave like a mercenary. I need an army worthy of a king, with men who would give their lives for me. I wish there were more like you and Herrath."

"Do you want me to stop searching for his body?" The brown-haired man was uncomfortable just thinking about it, but it wasn't his decision.

"No, a man like him deserves a proper funeral," he mounted his horse. "You handle the search. Daario said you could take some of his men with you if necessary. I will also ask him to help us with the training of the troops."

That morning, as on many, the council had gathered in the meeting room. Aemond, in a black tunic, was leaning on the threshold of the doors leading to the terrace. His gaze was fixed on the horizon as he listened to the vague reports the advisors were giving Daenerys.

Her trusted masters, who were part of the council, reported on the progress of the constructions she had ordered, the economy, the market, and security. Grey Worm took the opportunity to talk about the training of the new Unsullied, and Daario Naharis informed about the discipline the mercenaries had since coming under his command.

"King Joffrey Baratheon is dead," Ser Jorah said, capturing the attention of both kings. "He was assassinated at his wedding."

"And we have taken the Meereenese Navy, Your Grace," added Ser Barristan.

"The Second Sons took the Meereenese Navy," Daario clarified, toying with his wine glass.

"Who told them to take the Navy?" Dany asked.

"No one."

"Why did they do it then?"

"I heard they like ships."

"That doesn't matter now," Aemond intervened, arms crossed. "How many ships, Ser Barristan?"

"Ninety-three, Your Grace."

"How many men can they carry? Eight thousand?"

"Nine thousand three hundred, not counting the sailors."

"Enough to take King's Landing?" Daenerys asked.

"The Lannisters have more," answered Ser Jon Connington. "They always have more."

"They've been fighting Joffrey's war for years," said the Bravo. "They're tired, scattered. And now their king is dead."

"Do you think that almost ten thousand men sailing from the Bay of Slaves won't reach the Lannisters' ears?" Aemond asked. "The journey is long enough for their entire army to be waiting for us. Besides, who rules now? Tommen?" Jon nodded. "The boy must be ten years old."

"Your Grace is right," added Ser Jorah. "The real person who will wear the crown will be Tywin Lannister."

"Eight thousand Unsullied, two thousand mercenaries, and the Black Cloaks in formation attacking the gates of King's Landing," insisted Ser Barristan. "The city itself would surrender."

"It might be enough," the Andal doubted. "But she doesn't want to be queen of King's Landing. Ten thousand men can't conquer Westeros."

"The old houses will join in."

"It won't be like last time, Barristan," Jon said with concern. "Our kings are not Rhaegar Targaryen. The loyalty of those houses has worn thin just like our armor. The old houses will join the winning side, and ten thousand men against the Lannisters won't sound appealing to them."

"That's enough, we will continue discussing this when we come up with better ideas," concluded Aemond. "Any other news?"

"Yes, Your Grace, from Yunkai," Ser Jorah nodded. "Without the Unsullied to enforce their rules, the Wise Masters have retaken control of the city. They've enslaved the free men who remained and vowed to take revenge against us," he took a breath seeing the queen's dejected face. "And in Astapor, the council you set up to govern the city was overthrown by a butcher named Cleon, who has declared himself 'Your Imperial Majesty'."

Daenerys did not respond, so Aemond spoke for her.

"The meeting is over. We will reconvene tomorrow."

All present bowed and left the room, leaving them alone.

"Why do I feel like we're going backwards?" Dany asked, leaning against the doorframe with her gaze fixed on the city. "It's like we're losing without even fighting."

"That's why you decided to stay here, Dany," Aemond replied. "We will fix it, but we can't do it if we focus more on what happens in Westeros than on what happens here."

"Don't you ever feel like you just want to leave this place and sail west?"

"It happens every day, but I also understand why you wanted us to stay. We couldn't control seven kingdoms if we can't control three cities."

"In Westeros, they aren't like here. It's as if everyone here thinks they are superior just because I'm not from here."

"In Essos, they stopped fearing the white-haired ones when they saw that those 'gods' couldn't overcome the curse of Valyria," he stepped in front of her. "In Westeros, they feared them for much longer because there they had all the power. They feared Aegon the Conqueror as much as they feared your father. Why? Because of the power they had."

"I don't want them to fear me; I want them to love me."

"If they fear you, they respect you. If they respect you, they love you," he said, looking into her eyes. "I promise you that people will come to see you as I see you and love you, but first, we need to make them fear us."

"What do you want to do?"

"I'll go to Astapor. I'll negotiate with them as I did for the company," he suggested, recalling how they could never refuse him a contract. "Having one of us go will be more imposing than sending a messenger."

"Are you sure?" She looked at him with the insecurity she was trying to hide but couldn't.

"Yes, they need to understand what happens when they don't follow the rules."

"Fine, do it. Resolve this uprising and return quickly. I fear what might happen now that Joffrey is dead."

"I will," he approached slowly and placed a chaste and brief kiss on her forehead before leaving the room without looking back.