[95] Old Friends and New Faces

Chapter 95: Old Friends and New Faces

—

I sat alone at a small table in the guest chamber, drumming my fingers on the polished wood. The room was pleasant enough – airy and decorated with Meereenese artwork depicting hunting scenes. The windows offered a magnificent view of the city below, though I'd seen better from dragonback.

The door opened, and Missandei entered, carrying a silver tray with a teapot and cups. She moved with the grace of someone well-trained in service, setting the tray down carefully before me.

"Here... my lord," she said, her eyes downcast.

"It's insulting to refer to a King as a Lord. Even if you serve the ruler of a different nation." I corrected, lifting a cup to my nose and inhaling deeply. And Meereen couldn’t even be counted as a nation. "Hmm... No poison? Your Khaleesi will be mad to hear you defied her orders."

Surprise flickered across her face. "You can smell poison?” she asked, and I shrugged. “...Anyways, I don't think she wanted me to poison you for real; that'd be silly since she said it out loud. Please excuse me now," she said, turning to leave.

"I'd love a tea companion," I called after her. She paused, looking back with uncertainty.

"I am sorry... Your Grace, Khaleesi probably wants me by her side already."

"Probably? Then you can take the chance. Come on, it's lonely to wait by myself," I said, gesturing to the chair across from me. “And it’d be rude to reject a King.”

After a moment's hesitation, she sat down, her posture stiff and formal. I poured tea into the second cup and slid it toward her.

"Tell me about yourself. Where did my sister find such a fine, intelligent woman to serve her?"

She blinked at my choice of words, clearly expecting some comment on her beauty instead. "I, uh... I used to serve the people who made the Unsullied. She freed the Unsullied and me from there, and I joined her of my own will."

"That accent… Naath, correct? Island of butterflies," I said, sipping my tea. "I've read about it. Peaceful place until the slavers came. You speak how many languages now?"

"Nineteen… Your Grace," she answered, her shoulders relaxing slightly. I smiled since she didn’t call me a Lord anymore. "Though some better than others."

"Impressive. I barely manage five myself. Though I suspect you learned yours under harsher circumstances than I did mine."

She nodded, taking a small sip of her tea. "The Masters… believed interpreters should understand every curse and threat in every tongue."

"And yet you maintain such composure," I observed. "Most would be broken by such treatment."

"Many were," she said simply. "I survived."

We continued talking, and gradually, her responses grew longer. She also became bold enough to ask me questions, which soon became more direct. She asked about Westeros, King's Landing, and my conquest of the Iron Throne. I answered honestly, describing the city's stench and splendor in equal measure.

"And your wives?" she asked. "News is you married two women."

"Yes, Lady Margaery Tyrell and Lady Sansa Stark. Both are beautiful and ambitious in their own ways," I replied. "Sansa is sweeter, more earnest. Margaery... she reminds me a bit of you, actually. Clever enough to hide her cleverness when needed."

Missandei smiled at that, a real smile that reached her eyes. To be compared to a Queen, even if she hadn’t taken the title, must be a great honor. Then her expression grew serious. "Look, I... I'm really grateful to you for saving him. Grey Worm, I mean..."

"Oh, a lover of Unsullied. As I guessed, you're really interesting," I said, watching her cheeks darken.

"The reason I accepted your offer to share tea is because you saved him. And from this talk, I have a better idea of you compared to the rumors. The rumors don’t talk about you this way, Your Grace. So, I want to ask this just in case..." Her eyes met mine. "Do you plan to hurt my Queen? What are you here for, really?"

My eyes narrowed as I set down my cup.

The room's temperature seemed to drop as I fixed her with a cold stare. "You've served her for less than a year, my dear. I've taken care of her for eighteen years. I've bled for her, I've gotten beaten for her as I stole one more apple to feed her through the night. It’s insulting you just asked me that. I've sold my mother's crown – the last thing we had of her – so Daenerys could eat for another month. And make no mistake, I myself would have rather starved to death instead… I've carried her across the Free Cities on my back when she was too weak to walk. I've whispered stories of home to her when nightmares woke her screaming."

Missandei froze, swallowing visibly as I continued.

"Who do you think you are to question my intentions toward my sister, the blood of my blood, the last of the Dragons who'd help me return the Targaryen Dynasty to its peak? You, who know nothing of our suffering, our exile, our birthright?"

She immediately bowed her head, her hands trembling slightly. "F-forgive me, Your Grace. I spoke out of turn. I didn't mean to... I just..."

I leaned back in my chair and sighed, shaking my head. "I'll ignore the disrespect this time since it's natural to doubt me given my recent actions toward her, and also because I know you're just worried about her."

"I..." she took a deep breath, then whispered, "thank you. If I can, I'll help you reconcile with her. It would make me happy to see the Khaleesi reunite with her family. She’s someone I respect, but I admit that she can be incredibly stubborn at times. I think she's making a mistake by pushing you away."

That made me smile. Perhaps my sister had found better companions than I'd initially thought. "Thank you, I might need it.” I rose from my seat, ready to face my sister again. “Anyhow, Ser Barristan must have received his treatment by now. Let us go."

This time, with news I suspected would change everything.

****

Missandei and I walked through the corridors of the Great Pyramid, our footsteps soft against stone walls adorned with ancient carvings. Servants and guards shrank back as we passed, pressing themselves against the walls to avoid my path.

"Grey Worm's injuries were severe," Missandei said quietly. "I’m not sure when he’d wake up."

I nodded, feeling sympathy for her concern. "The Unsullied are strong. He'll survive."

We approached Daenerys's chambers, voices drifting through the partially open door. Missandei hesitated before knocking softly, then pushed the door open without waiting for a response.

The sickroom smelled of herbs and blood. Grey Worm lay motionless on one bed, his breathing shallow but steady. Missandei immediately moved to his side, her fingers hovering above his bandaged chest.

Ser Barristan occupied the other bed, propped up against pillows. His face was pale beneath a network of fresh cuts, but his eyes were clear and focused as he spoke.

Daenerys stood at the foot of his bed, her splinted arm held close to her body. Ser Jorah loomed protectively behind her, while Tyrion perched on a stool nearby, his mismatched eyes watching everything.

"—came out of nowhere," Barristan was saying as we entered. "At least twenty of them, wearing those golden masks. They had us surrounded before we could call for help."

“23, to be exact,” I said. All eyes turned to me as I stepped into the chamber. Daenerys's face hardened, but she said nothing.

"Ser Barristan," I acknowledged with a respectful nod.

The old knight returned my nod. "Prince. As I was saying, they had us surrounded in that narrow alley. Grey Worm took down six before they overwhelmed him. I managed to hold my position at his back, but there were too many." He touched a bandage on his forearm. "I was starting to falter when Prince Viserys arrived."

"How convenient," Jorah muttered.

I shot him a cold look. "Call it divine intervention if you must, Mormont. I was in the area. I heard the commotion. And yes, my ears pick up a lot more than normal humans.”

"And decided to help?" Tyrion asked, his tone skeptical. "How charitable of you, considering your earlier introduction to your sister."

"I respect Ser Barristan," I answered simply. "Even when his choice in employers is questionable. And Lord Tyrion, I think you have the wrong idea. I don’t want to ruin Daenerys and her little army. Once she joins me, it'll be my army, after all."

Dany glared at me, about to say something, but Barristan coughed and continued. "He saved our lives, Your Grace,” he said to Dany. “He cut through those assassins like they were made of parchment. I've rarely… no, I’ve never seen such skill in all my years."

Daenerys frowned. "And then?"

"I carried them here," I interjected. "Or did you miss my dramatic entrance through your window? Dragons don't use staircases."

"Getting back to what matters," Daenerys said sharply, not even sparing me a glance. "What did you discover before the attack? Where is my nephew?"

The chamber fell silent. Barristan's weathered face grew grim as he exchanged a look with Grey Worm's unconscious form.

"Your Grace," he began slowly, "when we reached Aegon's quarters... they had been abandoned. There were signs of hasty packing. Most of his possessions were gone."

Tyrion leaned forward. "...Gone? As in fled?"

Barristan nodded. "Yes. But that's not all." He took a deep breath. "I went to the holding area for the dragons. Rhaegal..." He closed his eyes briefly. "The chains were broken. Rhaegal is gone."

"What?" Daenerys whispered, her face draining of color.

"He took Rhaegal," Barristan confirmed. "Young Griff—or Aegon, if that's who he truly is—freed your dragon and fled with him. We need to question the city guards for a better report, but I’m confident that is what happened. If he’s just taking a stroll with Rhaegal instead, he should have reported to us earlier. And his commanders would still be in the city.”

Daenerys swayed on her feet. "No... that's impossible. Rhaegal wouldn't—"

"Wouldn't what? Accept a rider with Targaryen blood?" I interjected. “Even if it’s bastard blood, it’s still the blood of dragonriders.”

"Aegon… Aegon is my nephew," she insisted, though her voice trembled. "Why would he betray me?"

Ser Jorah moved to her side, catching her arm as her knees seemed to give way. "Khaleesi," he murmured, steadying her.

I couldn't contain myself any longer. The laughter burst from me, wild and uncontrolled, bouncing off the stone walls of the chamber. Everyone turned to stare as I doubled over, clutching my sides.

"This is too perfect!" I gasped between peals of laughter. "The Mother of Dragons, betrayed by her own blood! Well, fake blood, that is."

"Get out!" Daenerys shouted, her face contorted with rage and pain. "Get out now!"

My laughter died instantly, replaced by a cold fury that swept through me like wildfire. "You useless bitch!" I snarled, stepping toward her. "You lost a dragon, and you dare shout at your brother's face?!"

She flinched back, her eyes widening.

"Only three dragons exist in this world, and you just lost one to a THIEF! Are you out of your mind?!" My voice rose with each word, echoing off the chamber walls.

Ser Jorah moved to stand between us. "That's enough—"

"Step aside, you disgraced knight, before I remove your head from your shoulders," I snapped, not even bothering to look at him. My eyes remained fixed on my sister. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Any concept of the power you've just handed to an impostor?"

"I- I trusted him," she shot back, regaining some composure. "He had Targaryen blood! The dragons responded to him!"

"Blackfyre blood, I just told you," I corrected. "It carries just enough of our lineage to confuse a dragon. And now he has one of the three living weapons of war in the world. Your stupidity is truly impressive, sister."

Daenerys lifted her chin. "Why do you care?! They're my dragons anyway, not yours! Besides, aren't you the same as him?! You stole one of my eggs!"

"And I awakened it into a greater dragon than yours," I replied coldly. "I'm sure he'll do the same. He'll make a stronger dragon out of Rhaegal. Then he'll come back and take Drogon away too. I don't think Drogon will even fight back. He knows how weak and pathetic you are, that's why he fled. He'll happily accept this fake Aegon as his new master."

Her face paled further with each word, fury and fear battling in her eyes. With a sudden motion, she grabbed a flower vase from beside Barristan's bed and hurled it at my head.

I batted it aside with a casual swipe of my arm, sending it shattering against the wall. Water and petals sprayed across the floor as I fixed her with a withering glare.

"You're alone right now, Dany. One of your dragons is flying who knows where, while the other has been stolen. I wonder how long you can hold Meereen. How long until the slaves are chained again? How long until they spit at the name of Mhysa."

"I'll find him," she insisted. "I'll get Rhaegal back. I just-"

"No, you won't," I said, moving toward the open window. "You'll stay here in your little pyramid, playing at being queen while your power slips through your fingers like sand.”

“W-where are you going?”

I burst out laughing once again. “What, are you getting your hopes up? That your strong, reliable brother is going to retrieve your stolen dragon?” I locked eyes with her. “Nah. I don’t care. Didn’t you say it's your dragon? Go find it yourself, bitch. I only care for dragons belonging to House Targaryen.”

She glared at me as I climbed onto the windowsill, looking back at her shocked face one last time. "Remember this moment, sister. Remember who tried to warn you. Remember, what you are without me by your side.”

Dany trembled on her spot, her eyes wet. I ignored the stares of everyone else as I leapt out into the open air, my wings unfurling as I plummeted toward the city below.

[Image Here]

**

**

**