[90] Two Heads of a Dragon
Chapter 90: Two Heads of a Dragon
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Daenerys sat stiffly on the ornate Meereenese couch, the carved wooden armrests cool beneath her palms. The meeting chamber felt smaller than usual with so many people filling it.
Ser Barristan stood vigilantly by the door, Ser Jorah paced near the window, while Tyrion Lannister and Aegon sat across from her, the former still looking shell-shocked.
"So you're telling me," Tyrion said, breaking a tense silence as he stared at Aegon, "that you're Rhaegar's son? The same infant whose head was supposedly smashed against a wall by the Mountain? Damn, I wonder what Prince Oberyn thinks of all this."
"I was smuggled out," Aegon replied, his silver-gold hair catching the afternoon light streaming through the high windows. "A substitute was placed in my cradle. As for Uncle… Oberyn, he’s been doubtful in his letters. Although Uncle Doran trusts me."
Tyrion's mismatched eyes narrowed. "How convenient. How are we–"
Daenerys raised a hand. "Lord Tyrion, we've established my nephew's identity. There will be time for more questions later." She turned to Aegon. "You had something urgent to report, dear nephew?"
Aegon straightened, his face sobering. "Yes, Aunt. Two of our men were found dead this morning in the eastern district."
"Sons of the Harpy again?" Daenerys felt her jaw tighten. The masked attackers had grown bolder in recent weeks, striking closer to her stronghold. "How many does that make this month alone?"
"It wasn't them this time, I think," Aegon said, shaking his head. "They didn't leave their iconic masks behind. This time, it was someone else… It was extremely brutal, too."
Daenerys leaned forward. "What do you mean? Who else would dare attack Golden Company soldiers?"
"That's what troubles me," Aegon replied. "Someone who didn't want credit. Someone who wanted to send a different message."
"The men weren't just killed, Your Grace. I’d seen the bodies in person, and even I was surprised. It was as if I was seeing… Robert Baratheon’s battlefield. Their chest plates were caved in as if hit by a warhammer." Ser Barristan interjected, his weathered face grim. "They were... I hesitate to use the word before a queen, but they were butchered. Whoever did this possessed extraordinary strength."
"Someone strong and skilled enough to kill two Golden Company members without anyone nearby noticing the commotion?" Jorah stopped his pacing, exchanging a meaningful glance with Ser Barristan.
Tyrion cleared his throat. "If I may... the timing seems rather significant, doesn't it? A day after a golden dragon appears over Meereen, two soldiers end up dead. Perhaps this is the confirmation we need that the dragon didn’t come alone…"
The room fell silent. Daenerys felt her heart beat faster as understanding dawned. "You think my brother did this?" she asked, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. “He… he’s a weakling, though. Even if he’s got a dragon, how can he gain such strength?”
"It would be consistent with what we know of him now," Jorah said carefully. "The reports from Westeros suggest he possesses... unusual abilities. Some saw him fly."
"No, those must be exaggerated. Still, he must have abilities that allowed him to crush Stannis’ army and win the Iron Throne," Ser Barristan added. "Your Grace, if Viserys Targaryen is in Meereen—"
"We have no proof," Aegon cut in sharply. "We can't move openly against him without evidence."
“He can fly, though,” Tyrion said. “I saw it with my own two eyes. When he was using the alias of Ghost of Rhaegar Targaryen, he carried Sansa Stark through the sky.”
“Forgive me, Lord Tyrion, but I’m unsure those mismatched eyes of yours can be fully trusted,” Daenerys said to her advisor. She knew it was rude, but saying it made her feel better. Safer. She didn’t want to admit that her brother had gained magical abilities.
Tyrion just shrugged. Dany ignored him and studied their faces, sensing an undercurrent she couldn't quite grasp. Each man seemed to be weighing his words with unusual care, their expressions guarded.
"Why are you all so cautious?" she demanded. "If my brother is here to harm us, we should prepare accordingly."
"Your brother isn't the same man you knew, Khaleesi," Jorah said softly. "The reports describe something different. We can’t be hasty."
"The King in Westeros defeated dozens of soldiers on his own while saving civilians," Tyrion added. "Dragons aren't the only weapons in his arsenal, it’s safe to move while assuming that."
Daenerys felt a headache building behind her temples. The golden dragon, the murdered soldiers, her brother's possible presence—it was too much to process.
"...I need a bath," she sighed, rising from her seat. "Perhaps with a clear head, I can make sense of this. Let’s end the meeting here today."
As if summoned by her words, Missandei stepped forward from the shadows where she had been standing quietly throughout the meeting. "I will prepare it at once, Khaaleesi."
"I'll remain outside your chambers," Jorah offered, his hand instinctively moving to his sword hilt. "Just as a precaution."
Daenerys scoffed. "There's no need. If my brother wanted to harm me, he would need to sneak past my thousand guards. If he manages to do that, he’s skilled enough that you wouldn’t matter." She softened her tone at the hurt that flashed across Jorah's face. "Just watch the hallways if you're so worried. Increase the monitoring on the windows."
As they filed out, Daenerys caught Aegon watching her with an inscrutable expression. There was something unsettling in his violet eyes—something that reminded her of the night the golden dragon had appeared.
Was her nephew planning something?
****
The bathwater had cooled by the time Daenerys finally emerged from her thoughts. Steam no longer rose from the marble tub, and her fingers had wrinkled like old parchment. She'd spent the better part of an hour submerged, trying to make sense of everything.
The unnerving presence of a strange dragon over her city. The brutally murdered Golden Company men. Her brother, potentially lurking somewhere in Meereen.
It all bothered her greatly.
Her mind kept circling back to Viserys as she'd last seen him—his face twisted with rage as he held a sword to her belly, threatening her unborn child as he stole one of her dragon eggs. How had that frightened, desperate man transformed into the conqueror of Westeros?
Then again, his behavior had changed in the middle of it just when my Khal announced he’d give him a molten crown. What happened to him, really? She had no answers.
Stepping from the tub, Daenerys dismissed the memory with a sigh. The water slid down her skin in rivulets as she reached for a cloth, then decided against it. The night air in Meereen was warm enough to dry naturally.
She padded across the cool tile floor toward her bedchamber, naked and lost in thought. The quiet click of the door closing behind her barely registered.
Until a crisp crunch broke the silence.
Daenerys froze, her eyes snapping up to find a figure sitting casually on her bed. Her forehead went cold, and amid the droplets of water on her body, she felt a sweat crawl down her skin. For a man with silver hair—wearing her brother's beautiful braid—was leaning back against her pillows, taking a bite from a red apple as if he belonged there.
He turned toward her, and a familiar smile spread across his face, though it held an edge she didn't recognize. Where once she might have seen madness or desperation, now there was only cool confidence. Although that arrogance… she’d never mistake it. It was still there.
"Oh-ho," he said, his eyes traveling leisurely down her body, eyebrows rising at her curves. "My sister has grown much more beautiful in the time I haven't seen her…? I guess pregnancy does make some women look better."
Her lungs seized. "Gua—" she began, but before she could finish the cry, Viserys moved with impossible speed.
He was across the room in a heartbeat, pressing the half-eaten apple against her lips, effectively gagging her. His other hand gripped her shoulder, not painfully but with unmistakable strength.
"Calm down a little," he said, smiling down at her. "I am only here to meet my dear sister, not to obliterate her little army. Don’t make any mistakes. Do you understand, my little dragon?"
“....”
Dany bit through the apple hard, her teeth sinking into his finger through it. In response, he just laughed as moonlight bathed the room in beauty.
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