Chapter 395: A Reunion with Nathalie
Tyrion widened his eyes as he stared at the young man beside him.
He had suspected that young Griff carried Targaryen blood—perhaps as a descendant of the Blackfyres—but he hadn't anticipated this. The boy was revealed to be a true Targaryen heir, the eldest grandson of the Mad King, and the first in line to the Iron Throne.
Yes, this young Aegon had a stronger claim than Princess Daenerys Targaryen.
Even more than Caesar.
And suddenly, the reason the Golden Company had chosen to land in Dorne became clear.
It wasn't because of promises from Prince Doran, nor because of a marriage alliance as Tyrion had guessed. It was because this young Aegon, as the son of Princess Elia Martell, already carried the blood of Dorne's ruling family.
That alone would make it easier to rally the Dornish lords to his cause.
The knight from Ghost Hill, however, looked skeptical. His expression shifted repeatedly before he finally said:
"But Rhaegar's son Aegon died in King's Landing during Robert's Rebellion."
"Yes," Tyrion added, "The Mountain smashed his skull. My father personally placed his body beneath the Iron Throne as a gift for the new king."
"That was the son of a tanner," Griff retorted. "The boy's mother died in childbirth, and his father sold him to Varys, the spymaster, for a cask of Arbor gold. After all, a tanner has plenty of sons but had never tasted such fine wine.
Before the sack of King's Landing, Varys swapped the tanner's son for the real Aegon, who was spirited away."
Varys too? Tyrion's mind raced as he processed the new revelation.
"And who are you?" the knight from Ghost Hill challenged. "Why should I believe your tale?"
"I am Jon Connington, former Hand of the King to Aerys II, and the rightful Lord of Griffin's Roost. Lady Nymella Toland knows me well. Tell her that the true dragon has returned and that House Toland should open its gates and pledge loyalty."
The knight hesitated briefly before bowing and turning his horse back toward the castle.
Tyrion spoke up:
"So, you really are Rhaegar's son."
Young Aegon straightened his posture, his face composed and regal as he nodded.
"Yes."
Tyrion clicked his tongue, smirking.
"Still, a red three-headed dragon banner and a pretty tale may not be enough to make the Dornish kneel."
Aegon's face darkened, and he opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of the castle gates slamming shut cut him off.
The massive doors closed with a resounding boom, like the echo of a stinging slap. Aegon's face turned red with humiliation.
"Told you," Tyrion said, chuckling at the boy's expense.
Jon Connington showed no surprise. With a simple wave of his hand, he coldly commanded:
"Prepare to lay siege."
---
The sun dipped toward the horizon, casting dappled patches of light and shadow across the dunes and wasteland. The evening breeze was hot and dry, carrying wisps of sand swirling through the air.
Nathalie Dayne sat astride her warhorse, her long legs crossed lightly over the saddle as they swayed with the horse's movements. Her striking features were partially obscured by a veil, but her youthful joy and anticipation radiated through her eyes and expression.
Her heart brimmed with vibrant emotion, as colorful and dazzling as the sunset before her.
After a year and a half, she would finally see the man she had yearned for day and night.
When she had received his letter, Nathalie's excitement had been beyond words. Without hesitation, she rallied her forces at top speed and set out immediately, traveling day and night.
"My lady, we're nearing Yronwood."
"Good."
Nathalie gazed at the towering castle perched in the narrow mountain pass ahead. A sudden nervousness gripped her.
The man she adored was now a king, and he had taken two wives...
She no longer knew how to face him.
A year ago in Starfall, she had boldly kissed him. But now? That courage seemed to have scattered like sand swept away by the wind.
Only her deep-rooted love and reliance on him remained, an endless desert of emotion stretching far and wide.
"Dragon!"
The shout jolted Nathalie from her thoughts. She looked up and saw a dark silhouette against the sunset, flying toward them.
As it drew closer, the shape of a white dragon became distinct, its broad wings casting a massive shadow over the sand below.
It's really him! And his white dragon! Natalie's heart raced with uncontrollable delight.
The dragon swooped lower, kicking up clouds of sand and hot wind. The horses neighed in panic, rearing and backing away.
Nathalie's mount panicked, rising onto its hind legs.
"Ah—!" Nathalie cried out as she struggled to stay upright, but she lost her balance and slipped backward from the saddle.
Before she hit the ground, strong arms caught her around the waist.
The familiar scent of him surrounded her, instantly calming her fear.
"Sam!" she exclaimed, looping her arms around his neck, her voice filled with joy.
"A year apart, and now you've learned to ride," Samwell teased, "though your technique still needs some work."
Hearing the same warmth and care in his tone, the anxiety in Nathalie's heart vanished. Her face lit up with a radiant smile.
"Then teach me!"
"Sure." Samwell chuckled, still holding her close, making no move to set her down.
The wind and sand had settled, and Nathalie noticed the watchful eyes of the men around them. Embarrassment crept into her expression, but she still couldn't bear to leave his embrace.
"Would you like to ride the dragon?" Samwell asked.
"Yes!" Nathalie nodded enthusiastically, her shyness momentarily forgotten.
Samwell laughed and carried her onto the dragon's back.
Cleopatra flapped her wings, stirring the desert sand into another storm as the two of them ascended into the sky.
The knights of House Dayne held their breath, watching as their lady soared away with the Storm King. Their faces reflected a mix of emotions.
"Do you think His Majesty will marry Lady Nathalie?" one knight asked quietly.
"With such open displays of affection, it seems likely," another replied.
"But His Majesty already has two queens."
"Well, if he's married two, why not a third?"
"The Conqueror only took two wives..."
"Enough." Hughes Dayne cut off the murmuring. "Let's move. Into the castle."
The army resumed its march, advancing steadily toward Ironwood.
---
Meanwhile, Samwell and Nathalie dismounted the dragon within the castle walls.
Lady Guanyse Yronwood approached and curtsied.
"Lady Nathalie Dayne, welcome to Yronwood."
Nathalie, still flushed from the excitement, quickly returned the greeting.
Guanyse turned to Samwell, reporting:
"Your Majesty, we've received word from Ghost Hill. The Toland family reports that the Golden Company has landed at the Broken Arm, flying the red three-headed dragon banner. They're laying siege to the castle."
"The three-headed dragon banner?" Nathalie asked, puzzled. "Isn't that the Targaryen sigil?"
"It is," Guanyse confirmed. "The Golden Company claims to fight on behalf of Aegon Targaryen, grandson of the Mad King."
"Aegon? But... wasn't he killed long ago?"
"They say the boy Gregor Clegane killed was a tanner's son, while the real Aegon was secretly swapped and sent across the Narrow Sea." Guanyse handed the letter to Samwell as she spoke.
Samwell seemed unsurprised. Glancing through the letter casually, he smirked and asked Nathalie:
"How many soldiers did you bring this time?"
"Six thousand."
"The Golden Company landed with around ten thousand," Guanyse informed him. "Shall we recall Ser Olifer Sand and his forces?"
"No need. Six thousand is enough." Samwell crumpled the letter into a ball and tossed it aside.
"A band of sellswords rallying behind a fake prince, thinking they can play the Game of Thrones. How delightfully naive."
(End of Chapter)