14

Summary:

Three fires must you light . . . one for life and one for death and one to love . .. - Daenerys IV - ACOK

Notes:

Thanks to GOT88 for the help provided with this story

Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter, I read them all, especially the longer ones

Chapter Text

The Hand of the King

The march from the Bloody Gate to the Gates of the Moon was a relatively quick one, only taking a week. The Gates of the Moon was a castle that was held by Nestor Royce, a cadet branch of the main House Royce. Nestor Royce was a huge man with a barrel for a chest. He was bald and has a thin greying beard. Whilst Jon Arryn had been away in Kings Landing serving as Hand, Nestor Royce served as the high steward of the Vale in his absence.

The Gates of the Moon is a strong castle with very thick walls. The thickness was necessary to keep out the cold winter winds and keep the castle's inhabitants warm. During the colder months of winter, the Eyrie was often abandoned and the people spent their winter within this castle. Also, the winter winds, snow and ice make it difficult to transport food and supplies up the mountain and into the Eyrie.

 The castle itself had a very deep moat, a large yard for training and large square towers. Ned Stark was standing on one of these square towers looking up at the Eyrie, all the way near the top of that mountain. Even from this distance he could barely see the castle. He remembered those years he had spent in the Eyrie. The Gates of the Moon looked like a child's toy from that height.

 His eyes followed the path from the Eyrie downwards and he could make out the three way-castles they would need to take along their way to the Eyrie. First 'Stone', followed by 'Snow' and then finally 'Sky'. He looked over to the right-hand side at the dense forest next to the Gates of the Moon. Ned knew that there were plenty of spruce and pine trees in that forest which was good. Robert had given the order a few days ago to start chopping them down to make siege weapons, mostly rams and ladders. It was a good idea, but no one had a clue how they would transport them up the slow winding path to the castle itself.

 They had spent the last few days debating on how to take the castle. Ned had suggested that they send a personal messenger up to the Eyrie to deliver their terms and offer Baelish a final chance to surrender under a peace banner. Ned knew that it was unlikely to bear fruit, but it was better than the alternative. He saw the messenger slowly returning down along the mountain trail. He tugged his cloak tightly around himself and headed inside.

 It was not all bad, being in a castle again certainly had its benefits. For example, it was much warmer than camping outside on the cold and windy mountain road. They had hot food that they ate in a hall and as Hand of the King, he was afforded the luxury of a warm baths in the evenings.

 He walked through the hallways until he reached the room that had been taken over by Robert's council. Surprisingly, he was the first person there. He poured himself some ale and sat down and waited. Over the next few minutes, the room slowly filled up. Lord Tywin, Ser Jaime, Ser Barristan, Lord Renly, Prince Joffrey, Ser Arys Oakheart, Ser Mandon Moore, Lord Yohn Royce, Lord Nestor Royce and even Robb joined the war council. Several men had to stand as they quickly ran out of chairs. Robert entered last and sat in the chair at the head of the table.

 They waited for a few more moments before their messenger returned. They had sent Ser Albar Royce, Nestor's son.

 "Well, will they surrender the castle?" Robert asked immediately.

 "No my King, they will not," he said and Robert swore loudly with frustration. Ned looked around and everyone had the same grim expression on their faces. They would have to attack the castle and take it by force.

 "Right. I want 120 men. Ned, 20 of your best men and the same from both you two," he said pointing at Lord Renly and Lord Tywin. "The remaining 60 will be made up of my Kingsguard and Valemen. They know the land better than anyone,"

 "Father, shouldn't we take more?" Prince Joffrey asked. He was seated to Ned's right.

 "There is no point in taking anymore. The mountain trail is narrow enough as it is," Robert answered.

 "What's the state of the path, Ser Albar?" Ned asked,

 "The path is fine. Some of the stone steps have cracked in places but I saw no signs of sabotage along the path itself," and Ned nodded. That was one small comfort.

 "What about the castle's defenses? How many men?" Lord Tywin inquired.

 "The Eyrie is a small castle, my Lord. It can only hold 500 at the best of times. Baelish does not have the full support of the Vale so he has not been able to fill the castle. I estimate he has around 100 men loyal to him at best. The rest of the castle are servants, maids and cooks," Albar replied quickly

 "What is the mood like in the castle?" Ned asked

 "It is tense my Lord. I have been to the Eyrie many times over the years. Many of the servants who help run the castle do not like Lady Lysa, they respected her because she was married to Lord Arryn, but not many were fond of her. That feeling has gotten worse ever since Lord Baelish arrived with her,"

 "Did you see the rat?" Robert asked,

 "I believe so, your grace. I saw a short, slender man overlooking our meeting in the gallery above the hall. He was in the shadows. He had a thin beard on his chin as wel,"

 "That sounds like our rat," Robert said as he took a sip of his drink. This was also good news. Baelish was trapped in the Eyrie.

 "Why don't we starve him out, your grace? Surely without food they would soon turn on Baelish and hand him over to us?" Renly asked and Robert gave him a dark look.

 "We don't have time," was all he said through gritted teeth and Ned understood what he was implying. The Targaryens and their alleged dragons were somewhere in Essos and they could not afford to be stuck halfway up a mountain if and when they decided to invade. Time was not on their side.

 "The Eyrie also has large granaries your grace, and I believe that they are nearly full," Nestor added. "They should have enough food to last them until winter, whenever winter comes,"

 They all sat in silence for a few moments.

 "I've had enough sitting around. I will have Baelish's head. Ned, Tywin, Renly, go and ready your men. Barristan, Jaime and Arys you will be with me. Joffrey so will you. Lord Royce, prepare your best men. We will leave at sunrise. We will need all the time we have to climb up that mountain. Go," he said as he dismissed them all.

 Ned spent the rest of the day carefully choosing his men. He took both Umber's son and Robb with him. He knew that this mission was dangerous, but he could hardly leave Robb at the bottom of the mountain. That would make him look weak and send the wrong message to the lords that he would one day have to lead. Ned did not want to undermine his own son. After the men had been organized, he spent the latter parts of the afternoon walking along the ramparts of the castle, staring up at the Eyrie. He would usually spend this time in the solitude of the Godswood seeking out his gods but this castle did not have one.

 It was just before sunset when he heard a scuffle in the yard below. He quickly ran down to see what was happening. When he arrived he saw that several Vale guardsmen were roughly holding onto a man.

 "What is the meaning of this?" Ned asked as he arrived. He turned and saw that Robert and Ser Jaime had also heard the noise and had joined him in the yard

 "We caught this man trying to sneak into the castle, we demanded to know what his intentions were and he said he wanted to see the King,"

 "See me about what?" Robert asked.

 "You want to kill that fucker in the castle right?" the man said before he was punched in the stomach for his language. Robert quickly ordered the guards to stand down.

 "Yes I do, why?"

 "I have a plan and I can help you," the man said. Ned looked at him curiously. The man was slim and had a lean face. He wore simple clothes and didn't look like a man from the Vale.

 "What's your plan?"

 "I'm owed a favour or two by one of the mountain clans. I traded them some good steel a few weeks back and we have somewhat of a business relationship. The mountain clans don't have to follow that path up the mountain, they know their own ways,"

 Robert nodded and Ned was definitely interested.

 "If you have the mountain clans on your side, they can distract the guards in the castle to make your ascent easier,"

 "How do we know that this isn't some trick?" Jaime asked,

 "Look at me, I'm a sellsword," the man said as he held his arms out. "The King can pay me a lot more than whoever is up there, that's for sure," he finished with a smile. Robert grunted and quickly tossed a pouch filled with gold at the man.

 "Consider that a down payment," he said as the pouch hit the floor. "If your plan works, then I'll do you one better,"

 "How?" the man asked suspiciously "your grace," he added as he received a dirty look from one of the Valemen

 "You're a sellsword. So you like two things. Gold and Whores. If your plan works and we get Baelish. I'll give you one of his whorehouses in Kings Landing," and the man's eyes lit up with glee. Ned rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. Robert still knew how to make friends.

 "Now get up and get to work," he said dismissing him.

 "What's your name?" Ned called as he stood up to leave.

 "Bronn," and then he left to go and collect his men.

The next morning Ned Stark awoke before the dawn. He quickly donned his armor and strapped his sword to his waist. He would not take Ice with him, it was far too cumbersome to use in battle, and especially in this terrain. Once he was ready, he went out to the hall to find some breakfast. He sat next Smalljon Umber who seemed to be eating a whole pig's worth of bacon on his own. Ned saw the size of his plate and just laughed. He broke his fast on eggs, some bread and a cup of milk. After he ate, he went outside and waited in the yard, several of the men were fixing their armor or cleaning their swords, many were joking with each other and the mood was light and friendly. Ned scowled and looked at the men. They were all young, they were knights of summer. They did not know true battle, they only knew the glorious songs of brave knights. Taking the Eyrie would not be like the songs, it would be hard and difficult. He only hoped that these men were up to the task. The sun had only just risen and was barely peeking over the horizon when a loud horn was blown.

 Robert was true to his word. It was sunrise and he was marching.

 Amazingly, he had managed to lose enough weight to actually fit into his armor. It was not the same glamorous armor that he had worn that fateful day on the Trident, but it was armor nevertheless. Most surprisingly of all was the weapon he had on his side.

 It was a giant spiked war hammer. The same war hammer that he had used to crush Rhaegar Targaryen's chest through his armor.

 He walked to the front of their small force with a determined look on his face and as he passed the mood grew serious. He did not need to say a word. His mere presence was enough.

 "Robb, be careful out there today. Remember your training and you will be fine," he said to him. Robb just gave him a curt nod and continued to stroke the grey fur of his direwolf. The wolf gave a low guttural growl in response.

 Ned stayed with the Northmen at the front of the line. The trail was at its widest here and they could walk four abreast. They did not take any horses, the path was too steep and narrow at the top. Robert was near the front of the line. In front of him, there was a small guard of Valemen and surrounding him were his Kingsguard. Ser Barristan and Ser Arys were assigned to him. Joffrey had Ser Jaime and Ser Mandon Moore.

 The path to the first waycastle, 'Stone', was surrounded by thick forests. Ned was not too worried about any ambush, they were all heavily armored and the mountain clans were working with them. The march towards 'Stone' was quick as the ground was not very steep. Ned knew that from the Gates of the Moon it only took half a day to reach the Eyrie, but when you were trying to attack the castle, it would take much longer. As 'Stone' was still relatively close to the foot of the mountain, they were able to carry their siege weapons with them.

 Ned saw the line slow to a stop as they approached the massive ironbound gates of 'Stone' looming ahead of them. Robert barked an order and the men with the rams got into position. Ned drew his sword from its sheath and tensed his muscles. The way castles were not heavily manned but they could not be too careful. Their line slowly walked up the gates of 'Stone'. Ned thought the castle was undefended when suddenly he heard panicked shouting coming from inside the castle.

 "Charge the gates!" Robert shouted loudly.

 Ned was forced to shift into a run as their line charged towards the iron gates. He heard two loud bangs and then he watched as the castle gates buckled and cracked and finally collapse after being hit by their rams.

 He saw Robert and his Kingsguard charge through the ruined gate and Ned soon followed. Once he entered the courtyard he immediately heard a loud shout to his right. He instinctively turned and raised his sword defensively. Fortunately, Greywind had reacted even faster than he did and the wolf had jumped and knocked his would be assailant to the floor. Robb quickly followed behind his wolf and drove his sword through a gap in the knight's armor killing the man. Ned didn't have time to dwell on it as he quickly advanced into the courtyard. He saw several men on the ramparts of the castle scrambling with what could only be boiling oil to throw over the side.

 "Umbers! Robb! With me!" he commanded as he ran towards the stone steps that would take them up to the ramparts. Greywind quickly overtook him and bounded up the stairs, taking three steps at a time.

 He reached the ramparts to see that Greywind had already taken down the first man. Ned quickly sprinted over his body and started to duel with the second man on the ramparts. It had been years since he had been in a fight and it was only pure instincts and muscle memory that kept him alive.

 Ned gripped the handle of his sword tightly as he blocked and parried, waiting for an opening. His opponent raised his sword high to try and slice off Ned's head and he quickly raised his own sword to block it. The sound of steel on steel filled the air. He heard a noise to his left and Robb quickly drove his sword through his opponent. The man fell to the floor like a log as blood poured out of the wound Robb made in his neck

 "Thanks son," Ned said breathlessly and Robb only nodded. They worked together along with the Umbers to clear the ramparts. Ned was right, they had boiling oil ready to throw over the side. They must have been caught unaware by their early morning march.

 He looked out over the courtyard to see that the battle was nearly over. He saw Prince Joffrey fighting alongside Ser Jaime. Well, Jaime was doing most of the fighting, the Prince was still far too slow. Robert was in the middle of the courtyard removing his war hammer from a man's chest. He looked around and saw that the rest of the castle had fallen relatively quickly. He walked back down to the courtyard and over to Robert.

 "How many did we lose?"

 "Only a handful it seems. They weren't ready for us," Robert said as he wiped the blood off his war hammer. "We should continue quickly. The other way castles are smaller and they might not be ready for us either," and Ned nodded quickly in agreement.

 The march to 'Snow' took longer as the path leading to it was steeper. They quickly left the forest behind and soon they were climbing high above the valley. Truthfully, 'Snow' was not much of a castle. It only had a single lightly fortified tower, and a timber keep. Perhaps most importantly of all, it was completely empty. There was not a single soldier in sight..

"Where are they?" Robert demanded as he angrily stomped around the keep.

"Up there," Ned grimly replied, pointing towards the Eyrie. The castle was slightly larger now, and he could begin to see the different spires and towers. They continued their march towards 'Sky'. This was the most dangerous part of the journey. The stone steps were cracked and broken from the constant freezing and cold winds and the path was at its narrowest. From this height, you couldn't even see the valley floor.

 As they climbed, he could feel the cold winds blowing across his face. Robb was behind him with Smalljon Umber in front of him. They had been marching for around an hour and he could see the small way-castle of 'Sky' slowly getting bigger. Suddenly, he heard a shout and his worst fears were confirmed.

 "Boulders! Get down!" and Ned immediately slammed himself so hard into the ground he would be picking out pieces of stone from his chin for weeks. 'Sky' had numerous ramps that allowed the castle's defenders to launch boulders and stones down. Ned felt several fly past him and roll harmlessly off the side of the path and into the valley. The barrage of boulders continued for a few minutes before it stopped.

 "They must have run out!" Ned shouted after the barrage of boulders had stopped. He slowly pushed himself to his feet and dusted himself off. He took a few steps before he heard a loud yell behind him. It was Robb.

 He immediately turned and saw his son losing his footing. His heart was in his mouth as he saw Robb teeter back and forth over the edge. He instinctively threw out his arm and grabbed him, saving him.

 "Thanks father," he said breathlessly. Ned only nodded. He took one look over the side of the mountain at the valley floor and thanked the gods that he saved him. They took extra care on their way up to 'Sky' but as he suspected, they were out of boulders. 'Sky' itself was no more than a pile of bricks and mortar set into the side of the mountain. When they reached it, they found it empty. Clearly, whoever had launched those boulders had gone up to the Eyrie

 He looked up at the castle again. He could see the seven slim towers that made up this castle clearly now. Then, he spied the thin path that would carry them up towards it. Hopefully, Baelish didn't have any more boulders or archers up in the castle

 "This is the last stage!" Robert shouted rallying the men who looked shaken up from the boulder attack "We're nearly there! One more push!" several men gave encouraging nods and rose to their feet. Then, they started their final ascent to the Eyrie.

 Ned clutched a wooden shield over his head and braced himself for any archers. They climbed for what felt like hours along the narrow stony path. Ned was very nervous, Baelish had to have archers, it was one of the easiest ways to defend the Eyrie. Then, he remembered Bronn and the mountain clans. They must have distracted the Eyrie's defenders. Once, he reached the summit he threw his shield to the side and breathed a loud sigh of relief. He heard shouting coming from the far side of the castle. He looked towards Robert and saw that the King had already started to make his way towards the main gate that would lead them to the castle courtyard.

 Of all the castles belonging to the great houses of Westeros, the Eyrie was by far the smallest, so they were able to quickly make their way to the main gate which was not heavily fortified as there was no real need for it to be. Attackers never usually made it this far. They were able to quickly force open the gate and poured into the courtyard. Their men started to spread out to search the castle, small forces would head to the sky cells, and out to the seven towers of the castle.

 Ned, Robert and Robb headed for the Crescent chamber, which would lead them to the High Hall. As they approached, they heard a woman screaming loudly. It must be Lysa. They all started to run towards the noise and then they burst through the doors of the High Hall.

 They saw Lysa on her knees screaming at Baelish and grabbing him by the hand. Baelish was clutching the boy tightly to his chest. When she heard the doors open, she turned to look at them and Ned could see the fear in her eyes.

"They're here Petyr!" she shrieked. "Open the Door!"

 Ned was confused. What door?

 Then, he heard a loud creaking noise followed by the loud sound of the wind below them. She opened the damn moon door. Ned stood there rooted to the spot as she saw Lysa look at Baelish. She pulled Robin from his arms and then she ran and threw herself and Robin out of the moon door.

 Time seemed to move extremely slowly in those next few seconds.

 Ned looked at Baelish who was staring at the hole into which Lysa and Robin had vanished. Ned then looked at Robert who had the same horrified look on his face. Then, he slowly turned back towards Baelish who had started to move. Ned realised that he was heading towards the moon door.

 "No!" he shouted as he started to run towards him. His feet were slipping on the stone floor. He knew that he would not be able to reach Baelish in time. He watched as Baelish approached the edge of the moon door and he saw a streak of grey fly at him. Suddenly, Baelish had been knocked back away from the edge and Greywind sat on top of his chest pinning him to the floor.

 Robb quickly sprinted over and held his sword under Baelish's throat.

 "Close the bloody door!" Robert shouted and the door was then quickly closed and the sound of roaring wind disappeared. Robert walked over and roughly pulled Baelish up by the neck of his clothes. Robert was so much taller than him, that Baelish's feet were at least 3 feet off the ground. Ned stared at the former master of coin and the fear in his eyes was clear for all to see.

 "I'm going to fucking kill you," Robert said angrily to him as he roughly threw him to the ground.

 "Your grace, a trial at least. You are still a King, you have to act honourably," Ser Barristan pointed out quickly.

 "Fine, but I will be the judge," he said angrily as he stepped away from Baelish. "Ned, do it,"

 "Lord Petyr Baelish, we charge you with the murder of Lord Jon Arryn, the former Hand of King Robert Baratheon, Lord of the Eyrie and the Warden of the East, how do you plead?" Ned asked in a loud clear voice.

 Baelish lay flat on his back. Ned stood over him and looked down into his green grey eyes which were flicking back and forth in fear.

 "We also charge you with conspiracy to kidnap my daughters and to use them as hostages. How do you plead?"

 He opened his mouth to speak but Robert interrupted him,

 "Do not think of lying, if you lie to me I will crush you bone by bone!"

 Baelish opened and closed his mouth repeatedly but no words came out.

 "Answer him!" Robert shouted, his voice echoed loudly in the High Hall. Baelish was gulping down air rapidly and his chest was heaving.

 "Guilty your grace," he whispered quietly,

 "Louder!" Robert shouted,

 "Guilty your grace!"

 "Then I, King Robert Baratheon, first of my name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and the First men, Lord of the seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm sentence you to die!" he shouted and Ned could see the spit from his words fly and land on Baelish's face.

 "Take him outside! I will take his head myself," Robert ordered and then several men roughly picked him up and dragged the screaming crying mess of a man into the castle courtyard. They found a block and tied his arms and his legs but still Baelish continued to squirm.

"Do not move!" Robert ordered "I do not care if this gets messy. Your head will be mine,"

 Baelish finally stop moving and Ned could hear him quickly saying his last words. Robert took a sword and removed it from its sheath. He raised it high in the air and then brought it down so quickly that the sword itself became a silver blur.

 Robert took off Baelish's head with one, clean swing.

And as his head fell onto the floor. Ned Stark knew that justice for Jon Arryn had finally been served. 

The Imp of Casterly Rock

After their encounter with the merchant ship, they continued downstream. They had passed through Chroyane, another ruined city on the Rhoyne. It had been destroyed during the second spice war against the Valyrians. Yandry had said that the defeated Prince Garin had cursed the city and the thick fog was the manifestation of this curse. Tyrion didn't really believe him, the curse was no more than greyscale. Still, it had been an entertaining tale that helped to pass the time. Despite his disbelief in the curse, he shared the unease that had settled on the ship as they passed through the thick fog. He knew that people afflicted with greyscale had often been sent to Chroyane to live out their days. Connington had told him about the bridge of dream which was frequently inhabited by Stone men. Passing under the bridge was nerve wracking, but they had managed to sail through unscathed.

 After passing through Chroyane, they followed the river further south for another week until they reached Selhorys. Selhorys was a walled town that sat on the confluence of the river Selhoru and the Rhoyne. As it sat on the eastern bank of the river, it was more vulnerable to attack from the Dothraki. Fortunately, Connington had allowed them to spend a day in the city and to get off the boat. Tyrion had spent the day walking the cobbled streets. The city had sandstone walls protecting shops, stalls and storehouses along the waterfront. The markets sold timber taken from the forests of Qohor and the hills of Norvos. The main square contained a stone Red Temple and a large ornate statue of one of the former triarchs of Volantis.

 The Red Temple was relatively small, but that did not deter the red priest. During the evening, the red priest would stand up on an overturned cart and preach. He would talk about their great saviours, King Aegon and Queen Daenerys Targaryen who had freed slaves in the east and were now coming to save them. He said Aegon and Daenerys were coming to destroy the Old Blood who had enslaved them. This surprised Tyrion.

 Despite being a modestly sized town, it was not independent. Tyrion had learned that the town had been under the authority of Volantis for centuries and this was the reason the town was filled with slave soldiers from Volantis. Tyrion had expected the slave soldiers to order the priest to be quiet as he was talking about their masters in a negative light. Yet, many of the soldiers stood and hung onto every word as if the words themselves would free them.

 The soldiers were not the only one who listened to the priest in the evening, he saw prostitutes sneaking out of brothels to listen to the priest speak. It was only when the masters came out of their homes and businesses that caused the slaves to finally disperse. Still, there was definitely a change in their mood. Before the slaves were hunchbacked and walked defeated but after the sermon of the priest, they all stood up and walked a little straighter. It was not an obvious change, many of the older slaves still had that resigned look on their faces, but as he looked at the faces of some of the younger ones, he could almost see something behind their eyes.

 After their day in Selhorys, they continued along the Rhoyne until they reached the next town, Valysar. It was called a town, but Tyrion was sure that there was no such town in Westeros, as it would have been considered a city. Like Selhorys, the city was under the control of Volantis. They didn't stop in this city, Connington had been eager to get to Volantis.

 After Valysar, they had reached Volon Therys. Like the Selhorys and Valysar, this city was also a Volantene colony. The Golden Company was camped several miles outside the city. They had been hired by Volantis to defend the city from Aegon and Daenerys should they arrive. They had just arrived outside the camp and Tyrion was with Connington and the young prince, heading to meet the captains of the Golden Company. Connington and Aegon had removed the dye from their hair. Connington hair was starting to turn grey, but it was still red at its roots.

 As they walked along the muddy ground through the neatly organized camp of the Golden Company, Tyrion recounted all he had learned about the sellsword company. They had been founded by another of King Aegon IV's bastards, Aegor Rivers, known as Bittersteel. He had fled to Essos after the first failed Blackfyre rebellion along with Daemon Blackfyre's sons. He had founded the sellsword company in 212 AC with the aim to one day seat a Blackfyre on the iron throne. Whilst most sellswords were notoriously unreliable, loyal only to gold, the Golden Company was well respected. Even in Westeros, they were famous for their discipline and loyalty.

 However, something still did not sit right with Tyrion, he felt like he was missing some vital piece of the puzzle. The Golden Company was hired by Volantis to protect the city, but no one had explained why the city would need protecting.

 He quickly saw the commander's tent looming ahead of them. Connington pushed open the flap of the tent and they all headed inside.

 Inside the tent, the commander-general of the Golden Company along with several of his generals sat around a table with a large map on it. Tyrion stood on his tiptoes and saw that it was a map of Essos, mostly centered on the disputed lands. He could see several markers on the table. He saw two elephant markers denoting the Golden Company to the east of Volantis and then over the water, were dragon markers.

 "Harry Strickland?" Connington said immediately and he seemed surprised.

 "Who are you?" the commander-general asked.

 Tyrion took a good look at the man, he had a large round head and thin grey hair.

 "Jon Connington, or as Illyrio has told you, Griff," Connington answered. "Last time I checked, Myles Toyne was the commander-general. What happened to him?"

 "He died during our last war and I was chosen as the new leader. That's his skull over there," he said pointing. Tyrion looked at where he was pointing and saw a skull that had been dipped completely in gold.

 "Paymaster to commander-general, that's quite the promotion. Congratulations," Connington told him as he reached out to shake the man's hand.

 "I thought you were dead. Everyone was told that you had drank yourself to death years ago,"

 "I had to fake my own death, it was part of the plan," Connington said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

 "Ah, this illustrious plan. The plan that I have been told little and less about, please Jon, tell me what is the next stage of our plan?"

 "We wait for them to arrive. You have been hired to protect the city correct?" and Harry nodded.

 "You will help Daenerys take it instead," the prince said confidently. Harry looked at him in surprise.

 "Who are you?"

 "This is King Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of his name. Son of Rhaegar Targaryen, the Prince of Dragonstone and Princess Elia Martell of Dorne, Rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms," Connington said proudly. Harry nodded slowly.

 "I thought that you had died during the rebellion,"

 "That was not me. I was smuggled out of the city for my own protection," he said confidently. Tyrion was quietly impressed by the boy's new found confidence, he seemed to have taken his words to heart and was stepping up into his role as a King. Perhaps, he would be able to win his Queen after all.

 "We will wait in the city for her arrival. When she does, we will return here and then we will march to support her," he instructed. Harry nodded briefly.

 "Why should my men follow you? You are a Targaryen, I hope you know my company's history," Harry said

 "I will take you home," Aegon simply replied and Harry looked him up and down, sizing him up before he nodded slowly. 

 "Very well your grace, when will she be arriving?"

 "There was a report from Meereen saying that they were getting ready to depart. They were preparing ships to transport their Unsullied and Dothraki to Volantis. They should be here soon so be ready,"

 "You want us to fight alongside the Dothraki?" one of the generals said disbelievingly. Tyrion looked at the man, he had thin grey hair and his face was leathered.

 "If you want to take back your lands in Westeros, then yes you will," Aegon said immediately and he fixed the man with a glare so intense that he quickly apologised.

 "I will see that the Golden Company is ready, your grace," Harry said.

 Then, Aegon turned and left the tent, ending the meeting. Tyrion followed them through the camp, looking at the men as he passed. To his surprise, many looked to be from Westeros. They did not have the same tanned skin that those from Essos did. He realised that the boy was smart to realise this and to capitalise on it. Many of these men had likely been loyal to the Targaryens and fled Westeros after Robert's rebellion. The prospect of going home would be enough to get many of them to join the Targaryens.

 After meeting with Harry, they returned to their little group. They then crossed over the Rhoyne to the ruined city of Sar Mel. They quickly passed through the abandoned city and headed along the Valyrian road into Volantis where they would stay until the Targaryen children arrived.

They had been in Volantis for several days stuck in their rooms at an inn waiting and Tyrion was frustrated. He had spent nearly every second staring out of his window, he could only see the street they were on and barely out into the harbor. He wanted to go out to explore the city but Connington had forbidden him from going out. In his boredom, his thoughts frequently went back to what he had overhead in Norvos. The plot to kill Tommen and Myrcella had upset him greatly. He had no love for Joffrey but Tommen and Myrcella were good sweet children. So good that he was amazed that Cersei was their mother.

 Most frustratingly of all, there was nothing he could do about it. He was here stuck with the young prince. They were waiting for Daenerys and her brother to join them so they could all go back to Westeros. Perhaps if he spoke to Daenerys privately, she would agree to put a stop to this. His hopes weren't too high, they might see it as revenge for what happened to Rhaenys. Still, he would have to try at the least.

 He pushed himself off his hard bed and headed over to Connington's room. He knocked twice on the door before entering.

 "Connington," he said in greeting.

 "Lannister," he replied. He was sat staring out of the window, looking bored and perhaps a little nervous.

 "I would like to explore the city,"

 "We have been over this. We will all stay here and await their arrival. We need to be ready to get the Golden Company, this plan needs to work perfectly,"

 "Was this plan your doing, or the boy's?" Tyrion asked curiously,

 "It was all his idea. He seems determined to impress Queen Daenerys," Connington replied with a sigh and Tyrion tried to hide his smile

 "You don't like the plan?" Tyrion asked and Connington only grunted.

 "Which part isn't to your liking? The plan itself or the fact that he is now making his own plans and doing things for himself?" Connington turned and gave him a dark look.

 "If I let you go, will you leave me alone?" and Tyrion nodded quickly.

 "Fine, go. Don't get yourself killed," he said dismissing him. "Take Haldon with you, he said he wanted to see parts of the city. Something about his books,"

 Tyrion bounced down the hallway and knocked on the Halfmaesters door. He quickly explained the situation to him and then they left the inn and headed out into the city of Volantis.

 Volantis is the most southern of the nine free cities. It is the oldest and proudest of them all. It lies on one of the four mouths of the river Rhoyne and it is where the river meets the sunset sea. It was a port city and its harbor was deep and capable of holding hundreds of ships. Although the port was mostly empty as most of the ships had gone upstream to Volon Therys to ferry the Golden Company south in anticipation of Daenerys's arrival.

 It was early in the morning when they left the inn. As they stepped outside the first thing Tyrion noticed was the heat. It was unbearably hot and because it was a port city, it was very humid. Their inn was near the waterfront but even the sea breeze was swelteringly hot. As they walked, Tyrion noticed the heat shimmering off the streets giving the city a hazy almost dreamlike quality to it. They had only been walking for a few minutes before they both needed to rest in the shade. Tyrion found that this sullen wet heat was sapping his strength. As they rested, Tyrion was struck by the smell of the city.

 The city stunk.

 Tyrion lifted his nose and sniffed, trying to decipher the smell. It was rich. He smelt the sea, flowers, salt, something earthy and what could only be elephant shit. Tyrion guessed that it was elephant shit because for some reason this city was obsessed with elephants. He saw them walking the streets, carrying people on their backs, pulling carts from the harbor into the city.

 He also observed the people and everywhere he looked he seemed to see slaves. He realised that Volantis is the closest free city to Slaver's Bay and this would explain the abundance of slaves. What he did not understand was the tattoos on their faces and bodies.

 "Haldon, what do the Tattoos mean?" he said once they resumed walking.

 "The tattoos denote what type of slave they are. Green tiger stripes are for slave soldiers. A horsehead for slaves who work in the stables. Flames across their cheeks are for members of the Fiery Hand, a cog on their cheek are for those who work on a ship and a single tear under their eye is for prostitutes. There are others, but I do not know them," he said and Tyrion nodded.

As he walked, he looked at the slaves, observing the different tattoos that he saw. The slaves had tattoos of skulls, jugs and leopard spots. He also looked at the slaves themselves. If some of the slaves in Selhorys had seemed slightly insubordinate, the slaves in Volantis were all but in open rebellion. Each and every slave he looked at had barely concealed anger and rage written all over their faces. Their fists were clenched tightly by their sides. They completed their tasks with an unnatural amount of aggression to try and disperse some of their anger. On nearly every street that they travelled they saw at least one master berating a slave, but surprisingly the slaves did not seem to be discouraged. The beatings only added to their defiance. He noticed that they all kept looking up at the sky, almost as if they were expecting a gift from the gods.

 Tyrion felt an uneasy feeling spreading throughout his stomach. The heat made him feel like he was in a pot cooking on a fire. The anger of the slaves made him feel like that pot was dangerously close to bubbling over.

 "Tyrion, where are you going?" Haldon asked as they continued to walk. They had just approached the Long Bridge. Tyrion had read about this bridge in a book during their voyage. It had been constructed by Triarch Vhalaso and it stretched over the Rhoyne, connecting the eastern and western parts of the city. It was made of fused stone and supported by massive pillars that went deep into the water.

 "We should stay on this side of the city," he said.

 "Why?" Tyrion asked calmly.

 "Our inn is on this side of the city, if the Targaryens arrive we need to be close to head back with Connington," he said unconvincingly. Tyrion smiled to himself.

 "But the Eastern half has the famous black wall and the Temple of the Lord of Light. I have heard that they are among the wonders of the world, why not take the chance to see them? If needs be, we could run back," he said calmly. Haldon scowled and followed him. Tyrion laughed to himself, he knew Haldon was just as eager as he was to explore this side of the city.

 As they crossed the bridge he could immediately tell the difference. The streets were now cobbled and the architecture of the buildings was different. The buildings were built in a different style, much more Valyrian, he realised.

 They kept heading east until they reached the temple of the Lord of Light. The temple was situated on a huge torch lit plaza. Tyrion was immediately blown away by its size, it had to be at least three times the size of the Sept of Baelor. It was an enormity of towers, domes, pillars, steps and bridges. All flowing together as if they were made out of the same piece of stone. The lights from the torches bounced off the side of the building giving the impression that the whole building was constantly aflame. He realised that this must be a beautiful sight in the evenings.

 They walked slightly past the temple and saw the black walls, the heart of Old Volantis. Tyrion knew from his books that this is where the nobility lived. Only noble families who could prove unbroken descent from Valyria itself lived behind those walls. The walls were built high, almost two hundred foot tall and made from a strange dark material. He had heard that the walls protected a labyrinth of palaces, temples, towers, bridges, cellars and courtyards. Tyrion had heard that the heart of Old Volantis is like a city within a city itself, raised by the Valyrian freehold at the start of its youthful expansion. He had heard that some of the Old Blood even followed the old gods of Valyria. He saw spikes at the top of the walls. In the watchtowers, he saw guards with crossbows and spears, all standing in attention.

 "They say the walls are so thick that at least six four-horsed chariots can race side by side along the battlements. They hold this race every year to celebrate the founding of the city," Haldon said as they stared in awe at the black walls.

 "It's like a last line of defence," Tyrion muttered as he craned his neck upwards to try and see the top.

 "It is, that's exactly why they built it. If all else fails, the nobility will be protected behind their black walls,"

 They walked onwards for a few more moments before they decided to stop for a drink. They entered an inn by the waterfront and sat down at a table. They ordered their drinks and sat and drank in silence. He looked around saw a middle aged man across the inn staring at him. He looked like a Westerosi, probably a northerner. As their eyes met the man quickly looked away. Tyrion shrugged his shoulders and looked out over the waters. He found this to be calming, and it helped to settle the uneasy feeling that he had in his stomach.

 Tyrion had nearly finished his drink when an old lady sat down at the table with them. She had thin white hair that barely concealed the pink of her scalp, her face was heavily scarred and she had mismatched eyes. One was bright and the other was black.

 She sat down at the table and stared at Tyrion intensely, he found her gaze unsettling.

 "Can I help you?" he asked politely. He knew some Valyrian, it was very rusty but he knew enough.

 "You should leave," she said in a strained voice.

 "Why?"

 "It is not safe here for you here. Foreigners should not be on this side of the city,"

 "Is that so?"

 "Yes. Especially today,"

 "What makes today so special?"

 "King Aegon and Queen Daenerys will arrive today," she whispered and Tyrion immediately felt that uneasy feeling return. He took a quick sip of his drink before continuing again,

 "How do you know?"

 "The High Priest of the Red Temple saw it in his fires. He told everyone about it last night,"

 Tyrion nodded slowly. Now, he understood why the slaves were all looking up at the sky, they were waiting for their saviors.

 "Well, you heard the woman, let's leave," Haldon said quickly. Tyrion could tell that he was nervous but he was still curious.

 "What is happening to this city, why have the Golden Company been hired?" he asked. This was something else that had been bothering him. For the Golden Company to betray Volantis, they would need a reason to be hired by Volantis in the first place.

 "The dragons have destroyed the slave trade in the east. This affects the lords of the old blood who live behind their black walls. They sleep poorly. They listen as their kitchen slaves sharpen long knives. Slaves are used to grow and prepare their food, clean the streets, teach their children. They guard their walls and fight their battles. Now, the slaves look east and see this young King and Queen shining from afar. They are the breaker of chains. The Old Blood can't suffer that. The Dragon King and Queen will rob them of all their wealth. So they must be destroyed. That is why they hired the Golden Company,"

 "Tyrion you heard the woman, let's leave," Haldon said desperately, tugging at his clothes.

 As they stood up to leave, the woman reached out and grabbed him on his wrist and Tyrion was surprised at the strength of her grip.

 "Good luck," she whispered and Tyrion felt his heart hammering in his chest. 

 They quickly left the inn and headed back towards the bridge. As they reached the bridge, Tyrion turned back and saw that the man was following them. He was not close behind, but Tyrion was sure of it.

 "Haldon, I think we are being followed," he said and gestured behind him. He turned and looked at the man and scowled.

 "Let's hurry then," and they quickly stepped onto the bridge. As his foot hit the stone steps of the bridge he heard a loud ear splitting roar.

 He froze and felt his heart hammering in his chest. They were here.

 He heard a loud screech in response and he quickly looked up to the sky, craning his neck to find the source of the noise. He didn't see the dragons at first. All he saw was a shadow that descended upon the city from the south-east direction. He heard a loud clapping noise like thunder coming from that very same direction. He lifted his eyes higher and then he saw them.

 Two dragons flying side by side in the sky. One as dark as the night and the other a beautiful combination of green and bronze. They were huge. Griff had thought that since they were so young, they would not be very big but he was wrong. Very wrong. Tyrion was amazed by what he saw. Real dragons. Live in the flesh.

 The black dragon gave another loud roar which was answered by a roar from the green dragon. Tyrion couldn't begin to tear his eyes away from them. They were beautiful, magnificent and utterly mesmerizing. He watched as they flew overhead, covering him and everyone else around in the shadow of their wings. He could barely see the Targaryens on the back of their dragons, all he saw was long flowing silver hair. He watched as they flew low over the city and landed on what could only be the Red Temple. He found himself walking towards that direction, almost as if he was drawn to the magic exuded by the dragons. He felt Haldon grab him by the neck.

 "Where are you going?" he hissed. "They're here so we need to head west, back to Connington."

 "And how do you propose that we get through that mob of people?" Tyrion said gesturing over his shoulder. Behind Haldon on the bridge there was a horde of slaves, all walking quickly to where the dragons had landed. There was no way they could walk through this many people and get back across the river to the inn. To make matters worse, this bridge was the only place to cross the river.

 "I told you we should not have crossed, I told you," he hissed angrily as they turned themselves east and followed the crowd of people. Many were pushing and shoving in their eagerness to see the Targaryen dragon riders.

 The sun was directly overhead when they all spilled into the plaza that was home to the temple of the Lord of Light. He could hear excited murmuring and whispering as they waited. They were packed so tightly together that Tyrion couldn't see. He cursed his height and decided to climb onto Haldon's back.

 "Just be quiet I need to see," He said before Haldon could complain. From this position, he could see everything. He turned his neck and observed the whole plaza, it was completely filled with slaves who were here to see the Dragon King and Queen. Thousands upon thousands of slaves were crammed into this plaza waiting to see them. The two dragons were circling above, covering parts of the plaza in the shadow caused by their large wings. Tyrion stared at the dragons as they flew. He could begin to see the details of each dragon. The black dragon had red streaks on its plates and horns. The green dragon was not purely green, it had streaks of bronze and its claws were black. They waited in the plaza for what felt like an eternity.

Then, the dragons dipped down for a few minutes. The dragons appeared to have landed behind the Black walls. This did not make sense to Tyrion, if they were the breakers of chains, why were they meeting with the nobility who depended on the slave trade?

 He did not have long to think about it because suddenly the dragons once again took to the sky and landed on top of the Red Temple. He could hear the crowd start to scream and point towards the roof of the temple.

 Then he saw them.

 They walked side by side, hand in hand towards the edge of the rampart. They stood tall. The King was wearing what could only be Valyrian steel armor. Tyrion was amazed by the way the armor seemed to change color in the light, one moment it seemed to be smoking, the next it was shimmering. His silver hair was blowing lightly in the wind. The King was very handsome, his beauty easily surpassed Jaime's golden looks. On his right stood the Queen, and the songs had not done her beauty justice. She was so beautiful she seemed other worldly. He looked back at the King and then at their dragons. Neither of them belonged to this world. Then Tyrion's eyes drifted downwards at the Queen's stomach.

 She was clearly pregnant.

 Tyrion laughed loudly at this.

 "Look Haldon," he giggled "The boy's precious Queen is pregnant,"

 He could feel Haldon's unease at the sight. Their plans were going up in smoke. Not only did his precious Queen already have a King, but she was carrying his child. Tyrion looked up in the sky and saw the two dragons circling above the plaza.

 The crowd had started to cheer wildly but the King silenced them with a wave of his hand. Once the crowd's cheering died down, then he spoke,

 "People of Volantis. I am King Aegon of House Targaryen. Trueborn son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and his wife Lyanna Stark, Rightful King of Westeros," he said in a loud clear voice.

 "I am Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen. Daughter of King Aerys II Targaryen and his wife Rhaella Targaryen, Rightful Queen of Westeros," she said in an equally loud voice.

 "We have come to Volantis with our dragons, Vedros," he said gesturing towards the green and bronze dragon which gave a loud screech.

 "This is Anogar," she said as the black dragon gave an even louder roar. This gave Tyrion a look inside his mouth. He saw row after row of razor sharp teeth. He also got a good look down the dragon's throat, and he could see the dark molten flame.

 "Our mission is to build a better world and to rid the world of the great evils that plague it. We will not only reclaim Westeros, we will also build a new empire based on more noble values and principles. We have already begun to destroy the vile practice of slavery in the east. Slaver's Bay is no more, it is now the Bay of Dragons. Now, we will add Volantis to our new empire by liberating all the slaves in this city. We offered the old blood of this city a chance to be a part of our new world but they refused, so now they will perish along with their old world," he said as she held their hands aloft.

 "The better world we will build starts here!" Daenerys shouted. "We have heard that in this city the slaves outnumber the freemen by 5 to 1. They cannot stop you!"

 "People of Volantis take your own freedom! Slay the masters. Slay any man who holds a whip! Slay the soldiers that keep you in your chains! Strike the chains off any slave you see" Aegon shouted. "Dracarys! Dracarys! Freedom!"

 And then the dragons released their flame high in the sky. Tyrion watched the colors. One flame was black with red streaks. The other released a flame that was a beautiful bright green with yellow streaks. They were at least 150 feet in the air but he could still feel the heat from their flames. Then he heard the slaves,

 "Dracarys!" the slaves all shouted in return and Tyrion was thrown off Haldon's back as the slave revolt began. He heard loud shouting and screaming all around him and then he heard two more loud roars from the dragons.

 He was nearly trampled by the stampede of slaves all running off to slay their masters. He quickly looked around but he could not see Haldon through the throb of bodies. He was pushed and shoved around until he felt a strong pair of arms grab him and lift him up off his feet.

 "You are mine, Tyrion Lannister," his captor said and Tyrion was dragged away.

The Dragon Reborn

It was a warm morning and Jon was standing at the brow of the ship looking out over the blue waters, feeling the gentle sea breeze blowing onto his skin. They had been sailing for around two months now and he was eager to get back on land. They had first spotted the faint outline of Volantis several days ago. They were closer now, close enough to fly to. They had a plan, he and Daenerys along with a few members of the crew would sail onto a small island just outside Volantis. Then, they would get on Vedros and Anogar and ride into the city.

 The slaves in Volantis outnumbered the freemen by 5 to 1, they had debated bringing their armies with them and into the city but they realised that could cause unnecessary confusion. The last thing they wanted was for their own forces to fight the slaves. He had argued endlessly with Dany throughout the voyage, he wanted her to stay on the ship and rest but she refused.

 She insisted that they would do this together.

 He turned his eyes away from the city and headed back inside and down to their cabin. He pushed their door open and saw her asleep on her side on the bed. Ghost was lying down on the floor at the bottom of the bed. When he entered, Ghost raised his head to check who had entered before lying back down again. Ghost had been very protective of her lately and he was glad. He smiled to himself as he watched her sleep. Her skin was still glowing and she looked beautiful. He pulled the chair closer to their bed and sat next to it. For a few moments, he listened to her soft gentle breathing. Then he started to gently brush her silver hair which eventually woke her up. She looked up at him with her sleepy eyes.

 "Jon," she murmured softly, her voice still heavy with sleep. 

 "It's time to go my love, we're nearly there," he said softly. "I'll go get Missandei and Irri, they will bring your breakfast and then they'll help you dress," he said as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. He fetched his armor, which lay on a chair in their cabin and left to find his father. Rhaegar would be staying on the ship and Caraxes would stay behind. They would not leave their fleet undefended. Rhaegar had spent time on the ship reading the books they had brought back with them from Valyria. He had bonded with Caraxes and was able to ride him but his dragon riding skills needed a lot of work. He and Daenerys had tried to tell him everything they knew about dragon riding but they all agreed that he would need more time and practice to be on their level. They would also need space to maneuver and this was something they did not have on a ship.

 He knocked on the door to his cabin and found Rhaegar reading. He cleared his throat, gaining his attention and then lifted his armor up with one hand. Rhaegar smiled and then he helped him to don his armor. When he was finished, he stepped back to admire him.

 "This armor is magnificent. No other armor in the world comes close. If your mother could see you now," he whispered as he looked at him. "She would be so proud,"

 Jon felt a rush of happiness flood through him.

 "Thank you father," he said as he strapped Darkfyre to his side. He headed above deck and he waited for Daenerys. She arrived a few minutes later, with Ghost dutifully trotting along beside her. Her hair was tied in a simple braid ready to be tucked down the back of her clothes.

 "Are you ready?" she approached him and he nodded "Let's go,"

 They climbed into the small row boat that would take them to the island just off Volantis. He sat opposite Daenerys as they were rowed to shore.

 "If we have a boy, I think we should name him Daeron," he said softly and she smiled.

 "Prince Daeron," she cooed as she rubbed her stomach. "I like it,"

 He leaned forward and moved his hands with hers and he felt something.

 "I felt a kick!" he said excitedly, it was the first time he had felt their baby move. "Well, I guess it's settled, if it's a boy he will be Prince Daeron," she said with a warm smile. He held onto her hand all the way until they reached the shore. He quickly hopped out and then helped the men drag the boat onto the sandy beach. Jon offered her his hand and helped her out of the boat and then they walked further inland.

 She closed her eyes and looked up towards the sky and within a few moments Anogar landed behind her, as gracefully as he could. He pulled her into his arms and pressed her forehead against his,

 "Daenerys, I know I can't change your mind, but promise me that you'll take it easy. No spirals or twists, just normal safe flying, please," he said quietly.

 "I promise," she whispered. She gave him a quick kiss and then moved to climb onto Anogar. Surprisingly, she managed to do it all on her own. He waited by Anogar's wing until she was fully seated. She gave him a quick thumbs up to let him know that she was ok. He walked around to his snout and gently petted him.

 "Keep her safe," he said quietly and Anogar gave a small puff of smoke and a low protective growl. It was almost as if he could not believe that Jon needed to ask him to protect Daenerys.

 He then walked across the beach towards Vedros. She lazily stretched her wings as he approached, showing her impressive length. He reckoned that from tip to tip, her wings would be over 50 foot wide and possibly closer to 60. The dragons had continue to grow during their long sea voyage. Anogar was ever so slightly bigger than Vedros and Caraxes. As he approached, she gave a low growl in greeting which Jon returned in his mind. She bent her neck and dipped her wing, allowing him to climb on. Her scales were hot and rock hard. Once he was seated, she waited for Anogar to take flight. Jon was pleased to see the black dragon gracefully leave the ground and Vedros quickly followed. Jon ducked his head to protect himself from the wind and he settled in for the flight.

 Volantis was not far, and they were flying for less than an hour until they flew over the harbor. As they flew over, Anogar gave a loud roar that carried all the way across the water and into Volantis and beyond. A few seconds later, Vedros answered her brother's roar with a loud screech of her own. Jon smiled to himself, the dragons loved to announce their presence.

 As they flew over the city, the dragons started to fly lower. Jon craned his neck and he could see the people all staring up at them and pointing. He could see some of their faces, they looked amazed at the dragons and happy to see them. They did a quick lap of the city before he told Vedros to head east to where the Old Blood lived behind their black walls. He and Daenerys had spoken about this before. Volantis was the closest city to Slaver's Bay and as a result, the Old Blood of Volantis were the ones who funded the slave trade. They needed to see if they could get the Old Blood to surrender peacefully. Without the financial backing of Volantis, there would be no way for the slave trade to return in the east.

 If the Old Blood did not surrender peacefully, then they would have no choice but to take matters into their own hands.

 They flew low over the Black Walls, and Jon's mind immediately reminded him of Harrenhall. The great castle in Westeros built by the proud and arrogant Harren the Black. They landed in the middle of the courtyard. Vedros landed first and Anogar landed soon after. Jon knew that meeting the Old Blood behind their walls was risky, but to do this peacefully, they had to take the chance. He knew that the people who lived behind these walls could prove they were of an unbroken descent from Valyria, he hoped that this shared ancestry would provide them with common ground to start this meeting and eventually broker a peaceful resolution.

 The dragons took off and flew low overhead. They stayed close enough so that they could intervene at a moment's notice. He looked up at the watchtowers which were manned and he saw men with spears and crossbows on the roofs and balconies of some of the palaces, overlooking their meeting. Jon turned his head and saw a group of men approaching him. They wore colorful flowing robes and even from this distance Jon could see their jewelry shining in the sunlight. He had no doubt in his mind, these were the nobles of Volantis.

 "Greetings," the man in the middle called out as he arrived. "My name is Aurion Nagaerys, I am the head of my house, the oldest house here and I speak on behalf of the rest of the Old Blood of Volantis,"

 "I am King Aegon of House Targaryen,"

 "I am Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen,"

 "It is a pleasure to meet you, your graces," he said sweetly with a bow. Jon took a good look at the man. His silver hair was long, almost down to his knees and his eyes were a very bright purple. He was middle aged, tall and slender. He was clean shaven and he had a square jaw.

 "Although forgive me, but I had learned many years ago that Aegon Targaryen was killed in the sack of Kings landing?" he said as he cocked his head to the side.

 "I am not Aegon, son of Elia Martell, I am the son of Lyanna Stark,"

 "The Northern girl that Prince Rhaegar kidnapped and raped?" he said with a twinkle in his eye. Jon felt Daenerys grip his sword arm tightly and overhead, Vedros gave an angry roar. He took a calming breath. This was a negotiation, he needed to keep his composure.

 "You heard incorrectly. My parents loved each other. My father annulled his marriage to Princess Elia and married my mother in a secret ceremony,"

 "My apologies, your grace. Forgive me. Come, let's head inside and break bread. Everyone here can trace their lineage back to the Valyrian freehold. It would be an honor to hold a feast for the last dragonlords in our halls," he said sweetly.

 "We thank you for your hospitality but we are here to discuss a more important and pressing matter," Daenerys said stepping forward.

 "Oh," the man said and his smile turned into a frown, "And what is this urgent matter?"

 "The freedom of all your slaves," she said fiercely "We ask for you to stop all slave practices and to peacefully join our new Targaryen Empire,"

 "Your new empire? Are you recreating the freehold?" he asked, excited.

 "Not quite. There will be no slavery in our empire. We have already destroyed the slave trade in Slaver's Bay and we intend on abolishing it here as well. We urge you to accept our offer. You will retain your titles, wealth and social standing. The only difference will be that you will earn your riches through trade of goods instead of slaves. You will treat your former slaves with dignity while compensating them fairly for their services,"

 "We're offering you the chance to help build a new world which will be based on far more noble ideals and principles."

 The man was quiet for a few moments, scratching his chin as he thought.

 "No thank you, we do not want to join your empire. We like our lives as it is. With slaves,"

 "Then you leave us with no choice, we will free the slaves by force," Daenerys aggressively said.

 "Oh, how do you plan on doing that?" he asked with an amused voice.

 "By starting a slave revolt. The slaves outnumber the freemen by five to one. When we tell them to rise up and break off their chains you will not be able to stop them," Jon said.

 The man gave a snort of laughter,

 "We may not be able to stop them, but you will not stay here forever. Soon, you will leave to conquer Westeros and then we will be able to resume slaving," he said cockily.

 "Our armies will be coming into the harbor shortly. Over 80,000 Dothraki, 10,000 Unsullied and 8,000 sellswords" Jon told him

 "So? Look at our walls! Look how thick the fused stone is! Have you ever seen the Dothraki lay a siege?" he said laughing. Jon was frustrated by the man's arrogance. He looked at the black walls that surrounded them and his mind thought of Harrenhall.

 And then he understood.

 He felt Daenerys tug at his arm he turned to look at her and she had the same look of understanding on her face.

 "Jon, my dreams, my dragon dreams,"

 "I know, I understand," he said quietly. He then turned to face Aurion again. He took a deep breath and puffed out his chest. He knew what he had to say, it was like he had said these words years before.

"Yield now and you will keep your place as Leader of the Old Blood. Yield now, and your sons will rule after you. We will have over 80,000 outside your walls soon,"

"What is outside my walls is of no concern to me. Those walls are strong, thick and very high,"

"But not so high as to keep out dragons. Dragons fly."

"These walls were built in stone. Stone does not burn," he said cockily. Jon smiled before he spoke again.

"When the sun sets. Your lines will end,"

The Imp of Casterly Rock

Tyrion was dragged kicking and screaming through the city of Volantis. His captor had gagged him and tied up his arms and legs and was carrying him over his shoulder. Due to the riots going on in the city, progress had been slow and it was only the early evening when they had finally managed to escape the city. Tyrion had long since given up kicking and screaming. Instead, he used this time to recap the recent events.

 King Aegon was claiming to be the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark which had surprised him. Everyone in Westeros knew that Rhaegar had kidnapped and raped her but no one had known that she had given birth to a child, let alone the fact that she was married to him. But then again, Rhaegar would not be the first Targaryen to have more than one wife. Still, he couldn't help but wonder where this Aegon could have been hiding his entire life.

 Looking at King Aegon, there was no doubt that he was a Targaryen in appearance at the very least. More importantly, Daenerys stood next to him as he made his proclamation which made his story seem all the more credible. No one doubted her birth and if she claimed that he was Rhaegar's legitimate son, then who was going to doubt her. Most importantly, she was carrying his child.

 Tyrion still couldn't help but laugh at this. All of Varys's plans had gone up in smoke. Not only did Rhaegar have another secret son lying around, this one had actually managed to beat Varys's Aegon to the finish line. This Aegon had actually managed to gain Daenerys's love and affection. There was no chance for Varys and his chosen prince now, all those years of planning, all for nothing.

 He wondered where they were now. Were they still planning on betraying Volantis to impress her? If so, they were fools. Nothing the boy says or does would be able to break those two apart. That plan had also fallen apart. He wondered if Haldon had made it back to their inn. If he had then he likely would have informed Connington of everything that transpired in front of that temple. If that was the case, then Connington's best plan would be to take the Golden Company and sail far, far away. If Aegon and Daenerys caught wind of a second Aegon, and a pretender at that, they would not be long for this world.

 Still, he had gotten a good first impression of the Dragon King and Queen. They wanted to do good in the world. Abolishing slavery was a noble endeavor, and something that should have been done years ago. Perhaps, they would not support the murder of the innocent children like Tommen and Myrcella, even if they were Baratheons and Lannisters by blood.

 He was interrupted from his thoughts by his captor who roughly placed him on a saddled horse before climbing behind him. As his feet were tied, Tyrion had to sit side on, which meant that he could get a good look at the man. He was definitely a Northerner. He had a black beard and was rather hairy. Tyrion began to grunt and moan at the gag in his mouth, trying to annoy his captor into at least removing his gag.

 He continued at this for what felt like hours before finally he relented and his gag was removed.

 "Thank you very much, my good friend," he said immediately. "What is your name?" he asked after a pause. He waited, but the man did not respond.

 "You know my name, why should I not know yours?" and again he got no response. Tyrion gave a loud sigh before speaking again,

 "Very well, I will try and guess. You are definitely an ex-Westerosi. Most likely a northerner. You are not of the right age to be a Stark. So I guess I'll just start naming houses. Bolton, Glover, Karstark," he paused, trying to remember all he could about Northern houses. "Hornwood, Manderly, Umber,"

 "Just shut up. I am from House Mormont. I am Ser Jorah Mormont,"

 Tyrion faintly recalled the name.

 "Didn't you win the Tourney at Lannisport all those years ago after the Greyjoy rebellion?"

 "Aye, I did," he said bitterly.

 "You don't sound like you're too happy with the memory,"

 "I'm not, it was the beginning of the end for me in Westeros,"

 "Why?" Tyrion asked intrigued. The sun was starting to set now, bathing the land in a light orange glow. Jorah gave a huff of frustration,

 "I met my second wife at the Tourney. I married her and took her home with me to Bear Island but I couldn't afford to give her the lifestyle she wanted. So, I was forced to do some unsavory things in order to try and keep her happy and to pay off my debt. This eventually led to my exile,"

 "Unsavory things?" Tyrion asked not understanding his meaning.

 "I sold slaves. When Lord Stark discovered that I sold poachers to a Tyroshi slaver, he condemned me to death and I had to flee across the narrow sea," he said angrily. Tyrion nodded and they rode together in silence for a few moments. Tyrion watched as the sun got lower and lower in the sky. They were somewhere in the hills on the eastern part of the city. Tyrion could see the Red Temple from here. The way the torchlight reflected off the stone made the building look beautiful in this dusk light. It provided a stark contrast to the black walls was home to the Old Volantis. That place gave off almost no light at all.

 "Where are you taking me?" he asked

 "To the King and Queen," he said immediately and Tyrion gave a snort of laughter.

 "Why? What business do you, a former slaver, have with a King and Queen who are working to abolish the practice?"

 "My business with them is my own. I'm bringing you to them as a gift,"

 "A gift?"

 "Yes. Your father sacked Kings Landing, did he not? I am sure they have heard stories about Princess Elia and her children. Offering you to them is giving them a chance at some measure vengeance for their dead kin," he said with an evil grin and Tyrion felt an uneasy feeling spread in his stomach. Perhaps his father would cause his death after all.

 "Did you hear what was said at the plaza today?" he asked trying to change the subject. "Aegon is claiming to be the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna,"

 Jorah gave a non-committed grunt.

 "If Queen Daenerys chose him as her King then I will not question her,"

 Tyrion opened his mouth to question him but he was interrupted by a loud screech. Jorah stopped the horse and turned to the noise. The King and Queen were back, they were flying in from the south-east again. Tyrion watched as they flew low over the city before hovering low over the black walled heart of Old Volantis.

 He had to squint his eyes to see the Black Dragon, Anogar was his name he remembered, in the fading sunlight. The sun had nearly set and soon they would have to set up camp. He wondered how Jorah had planned to do it in the near darkness.

 He watched as the dragons hovered. He could faintly hear the flapping of their wings as they maintained their level height. Tyrion watched as they flew upwards and slightly further out until they were at opposite ends of the black walled city.

 Tyrion's eyes widened in shock at what he saw next.

 Almost simultaneously, the dragons opened their mouths and released a ferocious torrent of their flame onto the black walled palaces. One dragon breathed flame that was so dark that it was nearly the as dark as night, the only reason it was visible was due to the red streaks. The other's flame in contrast was a beautiful green and it had bright yellow streaks. He watched mesmerized as the Black stone walls slowly turned red, then they turned orange, then yellow then finally white from the heat from the dragonflame.

 The Black walled palaces of Old Volantis was burning right in front of his eyes. Tyrion could see the tall towers glowing brightly like candles in the near darkness. He watched as smoke tendrils started to rise high, polluting the sky. The force of the dragons wings forcing the smoke to ascend in a tight funneling spiral above the black walled palaces like a Volcano.

 He could barely tear his eyes away as he watched the palaces and temples beginning to melt and crumble in front of his eyes. The Old Blood lived behind those walls, he remembered. They were the ones who financed the slave trade. They were the ones who stood the most to lose by the Dragon King and Queen's reforms.

 But they were not the only ones who lived behind those walls. Hundreds if not thousands of innocent men women and children lived there. Plenty of slaves who cooked for them, cleaned for them, taught their children.

All being burned alive in front of his eyes.

Notes:

This chapter was the reason I actually started writing this fic. Way back in like October when I started my first draft/outline this burning of Volantis was something that I was determined to put in, Dany has dreams of this happening as far back as chapter 4 I think. It's something that I'm confident will happen in TWOW (if that book ever comes out). GRRM sets it up quite well. Dany is described as Aegon the Conqueror with tits, Drogon is described as Balerion the Black Dread come again and the Black walls of Volantis is the substitute for Harenhall

Chapter 15 will be up when I finish writing chapter 17, so let's say Friday.

As always, let me know what you think. I have no idea if you'll like this one. Comments are always appreciated

Sleepy