Chapter Text
***
Chapter VIII.
Author's Note- Thanks to those who reviewed. The real action begins in this chapter, and it's going to begin a relatively fast ride from here on out with many things happening and their cause/effect will begin to have our exiles much more on the move and involved. We'll also begin to start seeing events occurring in Westeros itself soon and how events are shaping up there. The first main part of this chapter is Haery's observations in dragon form when he is 'traded' for the Unsullied. We all know how that went in the book/show when Dany 'bought' them, so that part is not going to be overly detailed or dialogue heavy because I hate basically re-writing canon which is essentially what that part is. Our younger generation is beginning to reach close enough to adulthood that events will begin to be interesting for them with Rhaenys and Dany coming into their own and knowing what they want in life. Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.
***
Astapor, Slaver's Bay
Three Moons Later
***
They had made it. They had finally made it to the port of Astapor. Jaehaerys and his father had departed from their new seat at Kingsport nearly three moons ago. The ship they travelled aboard was a large dromond that had been especially designed to maximize speed. All things considered, they had made remarkably good time. He and his father were also able to spend a great deal of time bonding with one another that had meant alot to them both.
Having never had a father in what he remembered of his now-hazy past life, or even a father-figure really, he had always felt especially blessed that in this life he had such an amazing family. To Haery, his father was everything a great man was supposed to be. He had his fault's certainly. He was not so naïve as to believe that anyone was perfect, but he often thought that his father was as close to perfect as one could get. No matter how busy he was, nor what he was doing, Rhaegar always made time for his children. As his father's heir, he took an especial interest in his own training and upbringing.
No matter that they had some of the finest and most legendary swordsmen in all the world that lived in close proximity serving their family, it had been his father that he had wished to teach him the martial arts. He had done so gladly even beginning at the very young age of only four name days. After learning of his magic, and the fact that very soon, they could hatch some of the eggs in their possession, that training had been intensified to an infinite degree. In no way did his father go easy on him during his exhaustive training, and his Kingsguard instructor's even less so. Often times, he would be covered in cuts and bruises from head to toe, but at least in this life, he earned those bruises due to the sheer dedication of all those around him who were all determined that he survive and thrive in the likely trying times that were ahead for his family. In this life, he had family that loved him, supported him, and always wished for him to be able to come out on top. Rhaegar had known then that they would most assuredly be fighting for their throne sometime in the relatively near future, and he would not allow for his son to be in any way unprepared.
His academics had also been a common ground of bonding between the father and son. Though he had been in no way an academic in his previous life, in this one however, he all but craved knowledge in all its forms. He was ever eager to explore this utterly fascinating new world he lived in. Because of his maturity being so very advanced for his supposed age (even if he did down play his abilities as often as possible), it was not seen as out of the ordinary for him to have a thick tome in hand as he poured over any bit of knowledge that struck his fancy. His father had apparently been quite similar as a young boy (to the point that Queen Rhaella jokingly swore he was born with a book already in hand the moment he came out of the womb), and had been delighted that his eldest son took after him in a such a like manner. Growing up, no matter how busy his father may have been, he would always make time to spend with him where they would discuss many a varied topic of interest to their heart's content. Rhaegar was always happy to encourage his pursuit of knowledge and never failed to show encouragement- a trait he happily shared with his sister Rhaenys especially.
When they had passed by as close as they dared to the ruins of Old Valyria and the Smoking Sea, both he and his father had desperately desired to explore the area. Of course their superstitious crew would not allow their ship to get anywhere near the remnants of the Valyrian Peninsula. He had itched to take to his dragon form and investigate the area thoroughly, but something held him back. He did not know if it was his instincts or possibly his magic, but he could tell it was serious. As his instincts hardly ever steered him in the wrong direction, he kept to the ship and just observed the ruins as close as they could with their Myrish glass eye brought for that very purpose.
One day, he swore he would return and explore all of the remnants of the most advanced civilization this world had ever seen that was the cradle of his own blood.
The long voyage had also given his father and him ample time to go over their plan's down to the last detail.
They had eventually agreed that his father would be presenting Balaeria and Haery himself in his dragon form.
His own dragon form was still considerably larger than all the others, for reasons none of them were aware of- his own young age notwithstanding. The 'Good Masters' could pick from one of the two supposedly in exchange for all of their Unsullied forces. If, as they expected, they wanted the larger of the two (Haery himself), they would have to include all of the Unsullied that were still in training as well as those for sale. Once the transaction was completed, and he had been handed over to the Good Masters, all the Seven Hell's would break loose.
Afterwards, and hopefully to gain more loyal and hard-working subjects, they would first travel around Yunkai to Mereen itself, and demand they set their slave's free that wished to be freed. If not, the city would be sacked and burned. Then, they would finish with Yunkai before rendezvousing with the Royal Fleet to escort the Unsullied and the freed slaves that wished to go with them to Dragon's Rest and Kingsport.
That was the plan at least. It was also their first major step back into the world of international politics and intrigue in a long time. Afterwards, they well knew there was little possibility of keeping their identities secret. Of course, considering his belief that the gods like to mock the plans of lesser mortals and the fact that such plans rarely survive first contact with the enemy, they prepared themselves for any eventuality.
Tonight, they would be spending one last night aboard their ship before they met with the Good Masters first thing in the morning. After tomorrow, everything was likely to change. Their quiet domestic existence was not likely to survive the year after news of their action's in Slaver's Bay made it out to the wider world. All eyes would soon be upon their every move. Never again would they have the opportunity to casually walk through the streets of a city without large amounts of guards or hordes of small-folk clamoring to see them. He supposed being Harry Potter in the past had at least given him a decent preparation for his current life, but he doubted he would ever truly enjoy such public spectacles. As he fell asleep that night; being lulled into the land of dreams by the gentle rocking of the waves against the ship, he prayed to any deities that would listen that their plans went off without too many problems. He did not wish for innocent blood to be spilled just to gain them a larger army. He would do everything in his power to minimalize the casualties and preserve innocent lives as much as he possibly could. That, he supposed, was the best he could hope for.
***
The next day dawned bright and clear with nary a cloud in the sky. The weather was warm beyond anything father or son had ever dealt with. They left the ship with a group comprising of his father, Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Oswell Whent (the rest of the Kingsguard remained behind to guard the remaining members of the Royal Family), Lucerys Velaryon, several of the Admiral's officers, and last but by no means least, teams of oxen pulling two massive cages with huge pieces of cloth covering the cages from view.
As he was in his dragon form (an hence inside one of the cages), there was only a tiny gap of an opening from which he could view his surroundings.
From what he could see of Astapor, he found the city less than impressive. Slaves outnumbered the freemen and women by a massive margin, and the overwhelming majority of them seemed to live in desperately poor conditions. He had of course known all this beforehand. He had even seen slavery as it existed in some of the other Free-Cities, but the level of what he could only describe as a human tragedy to be found in Slaver's Bay was utterly appalling in the extreme. It hardened his resolve on a level nothing else would have been capable of, and he suspected his father was experiencing the exact same sentiments as his heir. Their dragon blood boiled with indignation at the injustice laid bare before them.
Any thoughts that may have previously existed within his mind that there would have to be some slaves that had been well enough treated and cared for by their master's (if for no other reason than to prevent constant revolt and escape attempts) stopped in their tracks. He had previously thought that perhaps he should strive to ensure no harm or even too major a financial loss befell these people. Whatever thoughts he had previously entertained, or at least hoped for, fled his mind like so much smoke in the wind as his eye's strained to take in the mass of human depravity before him. These beasts deserved no mercy from him- and they would receive none.
It was with a bleeding heart of such thoughts pervading his mind that he noticed the contraption he was held within come to a stop. They had arrived at their destination.
He focused his animagus form's keen hearing and sharpened sight through the small opening allotted to him as his senses strained to see and hear the business his father was now seeing to. He did notice immediately that there were likely at least several hundred Unsullied soldiers standing at attention in parade rest and he supposed awaiting inspection from his father. He also noted that the Good Masters whom owned and trained the Unsullied were seated not too far away in a row of seats together in a place he had heard called 'the Plaza of Pride'.
One particularly sleazy looking worm of a man, who obviously held himself in high regard, was approaching his father along with a young girl he suspected was to act as a translator (they had already decided to pretend they all could only speak in the Common Tongue of Westeros as that was all that would be expected of them and they could therefore hear and understand many things they likely would never say if they knew they could speak and understand Valyrian).
He settled in to watch the proceedings with narrowed eyes.
The oily-looking man was introduced by the young girl acting as translator as Kraznys mo Nakloz. In the far recesses of his mind, Haery was vaguely reminded of a particularly disgusting used car salesman (despite the fact that for some reason unknown to him he could barely recall anything to do with the so-called 'Muggle' World).
From the very start, the dragon within him was raging at the continuous amount of insults the scum was heaping upon his father in the belief that he could not understand anything he said. Words like, 'Sister-Fucker', 'Inbred Son of a Whore', and 'Bastard Westerosi Whoremonger' flew from the vile man's lips.
Oh, how his inner dragon dearly wished to burn the filth to ashes.
Rhaegar began by asking the man questions about the Unsullied and their training.
The answers were even more appalling than they could have possibly imagined.
What they had previously known of the Unsullied training paled in comparison to the depravity of the reality they were forced to endure.
They were told that an Unsullied graduated by killing a baby in front of its slave mother which was paid to the child's owner, and few failed the test.
Rage, unlike anything he had ever before experienced, burned through his veins. It was all he could do to keep control of himself and Balaeria both. His control nearly slipped on multiple occasions in the following tale of such abominable suffering.
He would never understand how one human being could actually do that to another of their own kind. The masters truly saw the slaves as another type of being entirely.
He could easily tell that his father was completely horrified and was barely holding on to his own formidable temper. The next statement somehow almost seemed even worse. He'd not thought such a thing possible.
The slaver revealed to them that....dogs....of all things, were truthfully harder for the Unsullied to kill than babies were.
The reason for that was disgusting on a whole other level of sadism.
Each boy was given a puppy when they were cut, that they were instructed to care for and raise. Then....and then they were forced to strangle the puppy at the end of the first year of training.
Any that failed the so-called 'test' were immediately killed and then fed to the starving dogs- sometimes whilst even still alive.
He was thankful that he was in his dragon form for otherwise he was certain he would have been unable to repress the bile that rose up in his throat.
He truly wished to destroy these disgusting abominations that were masquerading themselves as human beings.
The horrors merely continued as they learned more and more about the Unsullied training process.
When Rhaegar asked whether they can be tempted by freedom or not....the slave translator told him they cannot be tempted by such things because they have, 'no life outside their duty'.
Rhaegar then got down to the purpose of their visit. He asked Kraznys how many Unsullied they have for sale at present.
Kraznys had the translator tell him that they presently have nine thousand Unsullied for sale, and that they are not cheap because their training took years to complete to satisfactory results to be deemed 'Unsullied'.
Rhaegar told him he did not expect them to be.
Kraznys told his father that the Unsullied were 'akin to Valyrian Steel, they were hammered and folded over and over again until they had reached the pinnacle of marshal perfection'. He also informed him that as they are only trained to fight, he would have to provide officers for them himself. He further explained that each Unsullied came with their own sword, shield, spear, sandals, quilted tunic, and spiked cap. Those simple pieces were what constituted their uniform.
His father apparently noticed quite a large number of younger soldiers in the back. Some of them were even still holding on to their puppies. He heard him ask how many they had available that were still undergoing their training.
The translator informed his they had somewhere over three thousand that were currently in the various stages of training.
His father merely nodded at that, but he could see a gleam of something in his father's eyes and knew then what he was up to.
Finally, it was time to talk numbers, which was good as he was unable to say how much longer he could have endured listening to that vile man constantly rattle off insults to his father unchallenged.
Kraznys asked Rhaegar how many he wished to purchase.
He was fairly certain the odious little man was more than a bit surprised by his answer when his father told him he wished to buy every last one of the Unsullied available.
The man seemed highly skeptical and dumbfounded momentarily before he snidely asked him how he expected to pay for nine thousand Unsullied. (His actual words being- 'How did the sister-fucking lunatic expect to pay for them? Did he think his pretty inbred face and shining silver locks enough that they would want his sword-swallowing ass that much?)
He was forced to dampen his own extreme anger at the scum as he knew his own part in this mummers farce was quickly approaching.
He readied himself.
Ignoring Kraznys for the most part, Rhaegar approached the Good Master's that were observing the transaction. The translator girl was following closely beside him. He said a single word that the slavers apparently understood even if it was spoken in the Westerosi tongue- 'Dragons'.
Rhaegar asked the young girl to tell the Good Master's that he had two dragons in his possession, but that he would only part with smaller of the two.
He then noticed his father make a subtle motion with his hand towards the ox carts. Almost immediately, the canvas covering the massive cages was removed and all eyes in the arena turned to look upon the two very large dragons calmly resting in their cages.
The eyes of the Good Master's had widened to near-comical proportions.
He saw his father flash a quick smirk at him and the Good Master's had to blink as some of them could have sworn they had just seen the very large red dragon give them something akin to a reptilian grin.
It was terrifying.
Then, clear as day, he saw the lust and greed overtake the Good Master's. They knew well what the powers of a dragon at their command could bring to them. Their own ancestor's once-mighty Ghiscari Empire had been completely obliterated and wiped off the map due to the dragons of Old Valyria. Heated discussions in Bastard Valyrian began all around as Rhaegar's stated terms were discussed heatedly.
That they would agree was a foregone conclusion.
At the moment, the generous Good Master's were attempting to figure out how to obtain both dragons, and if not both, than certainly the larger of the two- him. So far, things were going exactly as they had expected. It was several minutes later that the Good Masters whispered to the young translator and she stood before his father with their counter offer.
At first (just as they expected as well), the Good Masters claimed they wanted both dragons.
Rhaegar then ironically asked them how they expected to pay for two of them, let alone try and purchase the largest of them that was not even for sale.
This led to further discussion and debate amongst the Good Masters. He could not hear much, even with his advanced hearing, but what he heard was enough to know they would have them right where they wanted them soon enough.
Finally, they had the slave girl ask his father what it would take in order for him to sell them the largest of the two dragons; besides the nine thousand Unsullied of course.
He watched on in amusement as his father adopted a look of deep pensive concentration as his eye's roamed all over the plaza and landed on the Unsullied in training in the back that were visible. Rhaegar then turned back around with a determined set to his jaw.
He had to give his father props.
'He would have had a fine career as a mummer. Could be something to fall back on if the whole 'King' thing didn't work out.' He thought amused.
His father told the translator that this was absolutely his final offer. He said he would be willing to trade the larger red dragon in exchange for not only the nine thousand Unsullied already available, but would only do so if he received all of those still in training; all three thousand of them!
He told them it was that....or nothing at all.
He knew they had them then despite the next amount of flurried debate and discussion the Good Master's were currently involved in.
The translator girl (who could not possibly have been any older than Dany if she was even that old) stepped away from the debating Good Master's and told his father that they would urge him to consider something else of comparable value besides those boys still in training. She said that if they fell in the field because of their incomplete training they would shame all of Astapor; something that had never before been done.
Rhaegar could tell that, bizarrely enough (as it was not the value of the still-in-training Unsullied that they had a problem with), the so-called Good Master's actually did value their reputation's to such a degree that they were truly hesitant. He supposed his father's next statement was meant to put them further at their ease.
Rhaegar told them that with only the one smaller dragon left, he would most assuredly need them all....including those still in training. He told them he had many battles that needed to be fought, and that the Unsullied could continue to keep up with the training of their incomplete brethren while they marched. They need only to select which out of the nine thousand Unsullied would be the best to continue their training.
They had them now.
With that statement from his father, the last of the Good Master's remaining hesitation fell away.
They accepted the 'deal'.
Now.
Now he knew the time was nearly upon him.
He had never done anything like what he was about to do, but he had also never so desperately desired what he wished since meeting these disgusting people and learning of the enormity of the horror and terror they committed on a daily basis. It was time for them to reap what they had sown.
Their end had arrived, and they would very shortly be learning the exact meaning of 'Fire and Blood'.
The eldest of the Good Master's had walked over to join his father and the young translator; Kraznys standing to the side of them. He listened intently as the Good Master agreed to sell them all nine thousand of the Unsullied as well as all three thousand of those currently undergoing their training to become Unsullied in exchange for the red dragon (his father smirked a tiny bit as told them the dragon's name was, 'Jaehaerys').
After that was agreed upon between them, his father asked the question of whether or not it was done; if the transaction had been completed. Then, each of the Good Master's had individually agreed: 'done'.
The young translator then faced the ranks of the Unsullied, all of the nine thousand that would fit had gathered together; packed tightly within the plaza. The girl then stated nine separate times....'done'.
One of the Good Master's told his father that the Unsullied will learn his language quickly, but that he would need a translator in the meantime, therefore he was given the slave translator (whose name was revealed to be Missandei), to serve as their translator as a token of their 'good faith' and a 'bargain well struck'.
Kraznys had then gone on to tell Rhaegar that the Unsullied he just bought were green and that he should- 'blood them early'. (He would soon be dearly regretting that particular suggestion.)
He went on to tell him that there were many small cities along his route that were ripe for plunder, and the plunder will be his, and his alone. He said the Unsullied have no lust for gold- or anything else for that matter (perhaps with the exception of food as their only available vice). Also that he could send the captives back to Astapor for good prices.
His moment was approaching he knew when his father motioned for Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell to open his cage. (He had to admit that both his human self as well as his inner dragon loathed the chain that had been attached to his lethally-sharp, clawed feet.) His father then approached him, and he nearly growled at the smirk he shot the chain; knowing full well of his heir's loathing of the metal tethering him.
Slowly, he made his way out of the cage. His large form was cumbersome in such a confined area. He would admit to enjoying the looks of fear some of the Good Master's had the sense to send his way when he growled at them.
His father mounted his horse as he held the chain he was attached to, and he took flight lowly above them. Even with a chain attached to him, he always felt free in the air. After all, what was a bit of metal to a dragon's fire?
His father then handed over the end of his chain to Kraznys, and Kraznys handed his father a curious whip with nine ends- he thought it was called the, 'Harpy's Fingers'.
When Kraznys announced that it was done, his father raised the whip high above his head and galloped over till he was mounted in front of the Unsullied ranks; announcing that it was done.
He however, would not move from the spot where his father had handed the chain over no matter how much Kraznys jerked on the blasted thing.
Rhaegar returned nearer to Kraznys and asked if he is having any trouble with a dangerous smirk on his lip's.
Kraznys irately agreed that he was indeed having a great deal of trouble with the apparently stubborn dragon.
Rhaegar looked down at the filth and told it that there was a reason for that: ''Dragons are not slaves.''
His father immediately afterwards looked him in the eye and firmly nodded his head; both of their mind, heart, and moral's filled with firm conviction in that moment. He knew beyond any and all doubt that what he was about to do was irrefutably the right thing.
Taking in a large breath of air while his chain was being roughly jerked about all the while the scum was cursing him in Bastard Valyrian, he released a terrifyingly long and molten hot jet of dragonfire upon the Good Master Kraznys.
While that was not the first time in his life he had taken a life, it was the first time he had actually enjoyed it. That was a thought that almost scared him until he looked out over Kraznys' burning remains and down to the many thousands of Unsullied and thought of all the murdered babes and pups and the god's knew what else had been done to them.
After that, he felt much better about the deed. He turned his attention back to the matter at hand.
Ser's Barristan and Oswell had already released Balaeria, who was quick to join him in the air.
When the slavers call for the Unsullied to defend their masters, they appeared shocked out of their wit's when they....did....not....move.
His father stood tall and proud on his stallion as he commanded the Unsullied to slay the Good Master's, slay the soldiers, and slay every man that wore a tokar or any that held a whip. He ordered them to strike the chains off of every single slave they could find.
His regal and dangerously handsome father then let out a battle-cry as he yelled out to all the Unsullied one single word: "Freedom!" In High Valyrian.
What followed could only be described as a well-deserved massacre.
He had flown around with Balaeria taking out all of the enemy archers, and together they had both laid down a fair amount of dragonfire upon the largest group of what he believed to be the Good Master's sell-swords. In truth, their action's were barely even needed except perhaps for removing the archers. The Unsullied demonstrated their ruthless efficiency as well as their strict discipline when they had cut down all opposition anywhere near them without a single loss of Unsullied life.
They had continued on throughout the town freeing every slave in sight.
By this point, he had returned to human form; shocking the hell out of several of the Unsullied who had seen him transform.
He came upon his father who was with Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell standing guard.
As soon as his father saw him, he immediately pulled him into a fierce embrace.
"Are you alright, Jaehaerys?" His father asked.
He felt still like a small boy enjoying his father's protection and embrace for a moment.
"Yes, Papa. I'm fine. After meeting those scum, I could not find within myself an ounce of pity for the beasts." He admitted.
His father looked him over closely to ascertain if he spoke truly or not before he let out a sigh.
"I'm sorry you had to be a part of such a thing, but what those men were doing....I've never felt rage flow through me quite like that before in all my life." Rhaegar admitted to him.
"In that, I can completely understand."
He agreed wholeheartedly with his father.
"What Your Grace's accomplished on this day was well met and honorable. I admit, I was skeptical of this whole venture at first. However, after seeing the things we saw and heard here today, I could not agree more." Ser Barristan told him King and Prince.
"Thank you, Ser Barristan." Haery replied with a smile.
He was glad to have gained the approval of a legend such as Ser Barristan.
"Now, what is our next task, Father?" He asked.
He was curious if they were going to continue on with their plan.
"I have never been more certain of anything in my life. We are going to do exactly as we planned. This entire region is anathema to everything we stand for. I despise Slaver's Bay utterly. However, we will not lay it to waste needlessly. Even though I may have doubts that there are any decent masters in Mereen or Yunkai either, I do not believe it would be right to burn all of them."
"That said, we shall head straight to Mereen first before they have the time to recruit any amount of decent force against us. I believe we'll only be facing the, 'Sons of the Harpy' and possibly the Second Sons or the Storm Crows there. Those we can handle easily enough. We shall free all their slave's within, and use the fleet to send those that wish to travel to the west and remain under our protection back with the fleet and a detachment of the Unsullied. When the fleet returns, we shall have already freed the slaves of Yunkai that wish it as well. We'll use Balaeria and your own form to keep checks upon Yunkai and Astapor whilst in Mereen to make certain no other enemy force come near. After the fleet returns from sending the soon-to-be former slave's of Mereen home, we'll collect every ship possible, and send the slave's of Astapor and Yunkai that still remain as well as the Unsullied and ourselves with the last journey west." Rhaegar explained to all of them.
By that point, a few of the Unsullied that the former Good Master's had earlier pointed out to them would be able to make passable officers and trainers had been summoned to hear their plans too.
It did not take him long to figure out that the young translator, Missandei, was one of the selected Unsullied's younger sister. He was happy to see them able to once again acknowledge themselves as brother and sister.
Before developing any further plans, he and his father faced the Unsullied and the recently freed slaves that had gathered and Rhaegar addressed them in Valyrian.
"I thank you all for your help in ending the atrocities that were being committed in this land. We are not done by a long shot. It is our intention to travel to both Mereen and Yunkai and free every slave there whom are still held in chains. It will not be easy, but my family is determined that every man, woman, and child remaining in bondage in Slaver's Bay that wish to have freedom, shall be given the opportunity to not only be free, but have the chance to begin a new life in the West. Every man, woman, and child present are free to leave and do as they please. None will stop you, nor will any harm you whilst we remain. Any whom wish to begin a new life, I will help them travel by ship for the new city we are building on the coast of the Narrow Sea. You will be given aid to build a home, and to find honest work to support yourselves and your families! Any who wish to depart for other realms, or any who wish to remain here, shall also be free to do so. Any who remain here or travel on their own shall be given weapons to protect yourselves from ever being returned to bondage against your will. That is what I offer each and every one of you." Rhaegar promised them.
His father meant every word spoken.
He addressed the Unsullied next.
"Unsullied! You have all done remarkably well, and I am proud to fight beside you all! You too are free to do as you will." Rhaegar told them.
He then took the whip he had been given symbolizing his ownership of them, and tossed it into a smoldering fire that remained from one of the dragon's breath.
"There. It is done! You have no master any longer! None but yourself. Each one of you are now your own masters! You are the master of your own destiny! You are now free to do as you will, and go where you please. If you would like to leave, then do so. If you would like to stay, you may do that as well. If you would like a new purpose, I would be honored to have any of you remain with my family. There will be war ahead, as my son and I fight to retake our home's and our throne. You are in no way obligated to join us, but we would be happy to have you as our brother's-and comrade's-in-arms. The choice is yours." His father said; ending his address to the twelve thousand Unsullied forces.
He watched as the Unsullied cautiously looked around one another. It was almost as if they were silently communicating with each another.
The seven chosen Unsullied officers snapped to attention and banged their spear's abruptly upon the ground. Within seconds, every single one of the Unsullied had smacked their closed fists against their plated chest's, and banged their spear's in unison.
Almost as one, the Unsullied began a cry, "Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!....Dragons! Dragons! Dragons!....Long live the Dragons."
He and his father both smiled at the apparently now-devoted new army they had just gained.
Father and son looked at one another and grinned before looking back out over the sea of faces.
"Freedom!....Freedom!....Freeeeedooom!" They answered back to the Unsullied; shouting the words together loudly in High Valyrian.
(Yes, I went all Braveheart on ya....it just seemed perfect:)
***
Minutes later they were again planning exactly how they to infiltrate Mereen. The newly-deemed 'captains' of the Unsullied and the translator (who had also decided to stay with them) joined them in council.
They had already given the Unsullied instructions to enter the main residential sections of Astapor and remove anything of value. As wealthy as those slavers were, they imagined they'd be receiving quite the haul. All the loot taken from the three slaver cities would be used to help the former slaves build new lives with them in the west.
None had felt an ounce of guilt for 'liberating' such valuables either after all they had seen.
Ser Oswell asked the most pertinent question first.
"How are we to infiltrate the city and open the gates?"
That was a fine question indeed.
It had devolved to different ideas all involving various means of infiltrating the famed city before he felt his eye's wander. When they landed on the iron cage that had served as his dragon form's mode of transport, the idea that entered his mind in that moment was either the height of insanity, or brilliant.
They'd soon discover which.
"Father?" He asked questioningly as he spoke up and for the first time entered the debate himself.
"Yes, Son? What's on your mind?"
He well knew exactly how ingenius his son could be, and that despite his age, it was always wise to consider any opinion he offered seriously.
"The dragon cages....Could they not also carry men? Perhaps detachments of the Unsullied? I know neither my form nor Balaeria could carry too many for long, but they certainly could carry a good number of them the short distance needed to breach the city walls. Upon landing, all they need do is to protect their comrades momentarily whilst a couple of their fellows made to open the gates. If we were waiting without....especially at night....it would not take long to secure them. Once that was completed, it would be all but over." He said slowly; explaining the crazy thought that had just entered his head.
It was completely crazy, and to any of their knowledge, it had never before been attempted. However....it just might be the type of crazy that could alternately be called brilliant.
Rhaegar stared at his son slightly open-mouthed for a moment....before slowly, a grin began to materialize on his face as his mind flew through the possibilities of his son's totally unorthodox suggestion.
It was genius in Rhaegar's humble opinion. His boy was a bloody genius!
He wore a full-blown smile when next he spoke.
"Brilliant, Jaehaerys! Absolutely bloody brilliant! You completely solved any need for a prolonged siege, and that idea of yours will undoubtedly save many lives. I am definitely impressed. My god's....the possibilities that could bring in Westeros....so much of the death toll a siege takes could be drastically reduced if used as a surprise thusly." His father told him proudly.
He could not quite prevent the blush from staining his cheek's at his father's praise.
If there were any one trait that assuredly carried over from his life as Harry Potter, it was that he would never be completely comfortable receiving compliments and praise....or being in the spotlight- something he knew he had gotten much better at, but some of his old self-consciousness still lingered.
He smiled disarmingly.
"I just hope not to waste any of our people's lives needlessly. While I believe the freeing of those in bondage is worth the effort, the slavers themselves are not." He replied.
They went on to explain the proposition to the Unsullied captains, who then asked for a test of the idea. He transformed into his dragon form and all seven of the captains entered the cage that now had chains on the opposite ends anchored to his form's feet. Lifting off the ground was not easy, and it took him several attempts to get it right, but in the end....he did it.
He was able to fly them up to quite a decent height (at least as high as Mereen's city walls could possibly be) for several minutes before the weight became too much and he had to try and touch back down to the ground as gently as possible.
Still, they had done it. The plan was viable, and now they only needed practice to gain as much experience as was possible.
"That was a truly brilliant idea, Jaehaerys. I would never have been able to do any of this without you, My Boy." His father told him as he slung an arm around his heir's shoulder.
And in truth, Rhaegar would never be able to properly express just how impressed and proud of his eldest son he was. Of course he was proud of, and loved all his children, but his eldest boy would always be a shining star in his eye's. His boy was marked for greatness, there was no doubt about that whatsoever in Rhaegar's mind. He was even prouder to name his son as one of his dearest friends and that their relationship was as close as it was. After his experience with his own father, he counted himself blessed indeed.
Another thought occurred to him then.
"Do you think the fleet will be large enough to transport all the freed slaves that wish to go with us? I mean, just going by the numbers of those that wished to come from Astapor alone, and it's the smallest of the three Ghiscari cities...." He trailed off as he tried to compute the large numbers of both men and ships needed involved.
His father nodded his head.
"Yes, I've already considered that. If the intelligence we received on Yunkai and Mereen was accurate, and I think it was as the numbers on Astapor we were told were correct, than I believe the fleet by itself will not be enough. However, if we secure the harbors of both Yunkai and Mereen for ourselves...." His father trailed off, and he now understood the plan more.
"Then the combined ships and cogs captured should be enough." He finished.
"Yes, that's the hope at least. I believe that two full trips should be all that we'll need to transport all that wish to journey with us. Now, the problem will be making certain we can arrange housing and food. The new city is already growing by leaps and bounds, but this will be unheard of growth. We'll have to be very careful, but I think the amount of gold and bounty we'll be leaving with from the three slaver cities will be enough to get them all started on the beginnings of a good life in the west. I'd imagine they'll certainly be a loyal bunch for the Targaryen Capital of our Essosi holding's. We've already contracted a large number of engineers from Volantis. If the talks with Pentos, Norvos, and Qohor are successful, than we'll have no problem settling them all." His father said; chuckling at the end.
"I still cannot believe how brilliant you and Rhaenys can be when you put your mind's to something. No Targaryen was ever successful in what we're attempting, and that was with the full might of the Seven Kingdom's at their beck and call. Yet, the two of you came up with a plan for an Eastern Realm under our banner's that is actually viable and has a strong chance of becoming reality." Rhaegar said as he remembered his shock when his eldest two came to him with such an idea.
"Dragons make almost anything become possible." He replied with a smile.
His father's smile was as bright as his own as their family's hopes and future was truly beginning to look brighter than it had in centuries.
"Aye, that they do. That they most assuredly do." Rhaegar agreed.
Though he was also thinking of the young human dragons that made up his family and how much they had accomplished and he had no doubt would continue to.
'Yes, our dragon's will be able to accomplish anything they set their sight's on, he would wager. They would accomplish all that and more.' Rhaegar thought as he smiled as his son had Balaeria almost purring like a cat while rubbing the top of her large horned head.
***
It was less than two weeks later that saw the small group that had arrived with Targaryen's and their new Unsullied army quietly approaching the gates of the City of Mereen. Night had long since fallen, and a relatively small number of only about one thousand men were amassing beneath the formidable walls in total silence and darkness.
Haery had practiced the maneuver with Balaeria many times in the past days and believed he'd gotten it down to as perfect as he was able. Now they'd be facing their first real test. This was also to be his first test of combat.
His father would be riding Balaeria and directing her to the south gate while he would be flying to get the gate nearest the harbor open. Ser Oswell was leading the crew chosen to open the first gate and Ser Barristan would be leading the men he was flying.
Luckily, it was a cloudy night and the visibility was minimal. That was fortuitous as they were not certain whether word of their escapades in Astapor had reached Mereen or not. Seeing as the Storm Crow's were indeed said to be within the city, it was entirely plausible. The city gates would be the first place the mercenaries would be keeping a close eye on. Hence, the reason for absolute silence until the alarm was given from the enemy.
In the distance, he spotted the first wave comprised of the thousand men finally reach their position's next to the walls. Now was the time.
He was already in his dragon form and the cage was chained to his feet. He stared at the ten men....well, nine men and one boy....within the cage and nodded his large scaled head in a sharp manner.
Aegon had pleaded with him to get his father to allow him to be amongst the small groups charged with securing the gates. He'd not really wanted his best male friend to be at such risk, but his begging had been relentless. He knew the other boy was always striving to make a name for himself....to prove that he really was worthy of Rhaegar having named him a Targaryen Prince. The boy pulled out all the stops- begging, pleading, puppy-dog eyes, and everything up to and including black-mail was attempted before he finally relented and agreed....but only because he knew he'd be right there in his dragon form in case anything too dangerous happened.
That was one of his greatest fears and the thing he knew he'd have a hard time dealing with and accepting.
He'd never lost anyone close to him in this life, and sometimes he thought the fact that he now knew real familial love in this world, would make it all the worse when the inevitable day arrived and he did lose someone he cared about.
It was one of the main reasons he always supported the far more cautious approach to re-taking their home than simply having the entire family mount their dragons and lay waste to their enemies and have done with it. His thought's of the first attempted Dornish conquest and the end it brought for Rhaenys and Meraxes as well as the memory of the Dance and it's aftermath for his family laid bare the possible outcomes of such dangerous and lethal folly.
His mother had always ensured none of them were allowed to think themselves invincible just because they rode dragons, and that while it was an admittedly difficult feat to accomplish, killing both a dragon and it's rider was entirely possible as history had repeatedly shown them. It was inevitable that they'd lose at least some of them if such a thing were ever attempted, and neither he nor his mother believed an iron chair worth the risk.
He brought his mind back to the task at hand as he lifted off the ground with a powerful beat of his massive leathery wings and a forceful push of his clawed feet; slowly ascending into the air till he reached the optimal height.
As he flew towards the approaching city walls of Mereen, the only sound heard was the swooshing of Haery's powerful wings displacing the surrounding air in a sound unheard in the region for many centuries now.
The weight of the iron cage carrying the ten men within it's metal confines was great, and it took all of Haery's formidable strength in his draconic form to raise himself up to the necessary height. With the advanced sight of his animagus form, he could see several of the guards stationed upon the city walls straining their vision to determine the origin of the distinctly alien sound- to no avail.
Finally, Haery reached the appropriate height above the walls.
He strained himself to maintain the cage's weight as his eye's zeroed in on the area surrounding the interior of the inner gate. Two guards were pacing back and forth across the length of the harbor-side gate. He also spied another four guards on each side manning the upper level of the interior city walls where two small, shack-like structures had been built into the upper level. It was that upper level that their own men must needs reach to effectively open the gate fully and admit their silent Unsullied awaiting them outside.
That was when he heard it.
Balaeria had let loose a ferocious roar startling all the surrounding guards and signaling him that it was time to begin.
Whilst the guards of Mereen were still distracted by Balaeria's battle cry, he guided the metal cage containing their men down to the ground as swiftly as he was able. The added weight was nearly unbearable, and for a moment, he thought he might not be able to land the cage without harming those within. Unable to take the strain any longer, the cage essentially fell the last few feet; jarring their men inside, but still leaving them apparently unscathed- much to his relief.
With the cage now in position, Haery's great red dragon form crouched protectively in front of his men now exiting the cage just as swiftly as they had in the training exercises. He let out his own utterly ferocious loud roar; terrifying all the enemy men around who'd never even thought to hear such an ominous sound in all their lives.
The men, being led by Ser Barristan the Bold, were making quick work of the city guards in place so he focused his attention upon any threat that could come at them from the interior of the city and the road before him.
He saw others of the city guard approaching quickly. However, when they took one look at him, their resolve faltered with many of the men stopping in their track's in sheer terror.
He could easily hear the duels taking place behind him as their men fought to gain control of the gate, and he knew they were holding their own at the moment. He then spied some men of a different sort to the rather weak city guards approaching him. While most of the guards had halted on sighting him and ran for reinforcements, men of the Storm Crows were filing in from the direction of the two side streets that crossed the main road he currently stood in the middle of.
While they too looked frightened of his dragon form, they were not shying away as the city guard had.
He saw them split off into groups of four to five men a piece as they loaded crossbows and readied their spears that had materialized from somewhere.
He roared defiantly at them all; lashing his long spiked tail in their direction in warning.
Some appeared to lose their resolve (from the scent he could tell one man had even pissed himself in fear) and falter, but most remained steady. He mentally had to at least give them props for bravery; however idiotic it may have been.
One group of spearmen began approaching him from the left, and another group from the right, as all of those in possession of a crossbow loosed their bolt's at him at the same time from an unknown signal.
There must have been ten to twelve bolts released at once flying towards his hard scales. Most simply bounced harmlessly off his magically enhanced natural scaled armor, but several did manage to penetrate his skin due to hitting at just the correct point where scale met scale, but did not overlap. They were mere pin pricks at best, but his inner dragon within him had him roaring in anger at their audacity to even attempt attacking a beast as mighty as he.
Directly after loosing the first volley of bolts directly at his dragon form, the two detachments of spearmen came at him from the sides as their companion's loaded a second round as quickly as they could in the face of his fury.
Despite still trying to maintain his focus on those directly before him, he saw them coming at him with their spear's raised and at the ready.
With a powerful swipe of his long tail, he barreled over the spearmen to his left as he sucked in a large breath and quickly unleashed a torrent of black and red dragonfire upon those coming at him from the right; burning three of the four spearmen alive as their blood-curdling scream's rang out through the night air as a warning more deadly and terrifying than anything he could conjure.
Swiping his massive horned head this way and that as he searched for the most immediate threat, he saw that their own men had nearly finished securing the gate. However, he also saw a sight that set his dragon blood to boiling in rage.
Off to the right on the second level of the walls, he saw a large man of at least six and a half feet cowardly approaching Ser Barristan with his sword raised and poised to strike from behind.
He would not allow such a dastardly deed go unpunished. Ser Barristan did not deserve such an ignoble end after all his many and glorious years of service to House Targaryen.
Striking nearly as quick as a viper, his head darted forward in an instant; biting down on the swine as his sharp-toothed jaws violently tore in to the scum. He shook his head quickly from side to side; shaking the bastard like a rag doll and tearing out a massive chunk of the man's mid-section.
Blood ran down his gullet in rivulets as he tore the fiend apart and some inner and primal part of him that was the spirit of the dragon reveled in the blood and gore of feasting upon an enemy. It relished the carnage and it took every ounce of his self-control to tamp down on such base instincts.
Ser Barristan turned his head the second he heard the awful sound of flesh being ripped apart from bone and tendon and the screaming it had induced from behind him and widened his eye's at seeing his prince's draconic self tearing into a member of the Storm Crows that had undoubtedly been poised to strike him down from behind.
Out of the peripheral of his vision after he had spat out the chunk of the man he'd just killed, he saw the Kingsguard's eyes widen as a look of panic and fear graced his aged-lined face.
Before Ser Barristan even had time to shout out a warning, he felt rather than saw the cause of the knight's distress.
Haery felt a sudden and piercing pain jolt through his lower body as he let out a keen screech of agony and distress.
He realized he had just been stabbed! He had been bloody stabbed!
Off in the distance, he was vaguely aware of Balaeria's answering screech and knew his father's bonded mount could feel what had caused him such agony and was distressed by his plight. He held a bond deeper to all their dragon's than anyone else due to his kindred animagus form as they considered him their kin. He'd even been capable of persuading a couple of the dragons to tolerate more than just their bonded rider. For the first time in recorded history, three of their dragon's would actually allow someone besides their bonded to ride them, though of course they had to have at least some of the blood of the dragon coursing thru their veins as well.
He swiveled his large head back around and managed to identify the cause of the pain radiating within him.
At the side of his lower body he saw a well-muscled blue haired Tyroshi sell-sword whom appeared to be one of the leaders of the Storm Crows if he had to wager a guess in his addled state. Still somewhat stunned by the pain coursing through him, he was unable to react fast enough as the flamboyantly-dressed Tyroshi mercenary prepared to strike at him again. It was then that he caught sight of the tell-tale ripple in the fiend's blade, and instantly realized he'd been stabbed by Valyrian Steel- one of the few things that could actually harm him.
He was not the only one shocked however when just as the blade was about to cut into his flesh for the second time, he caught a flash of silver hair seemingly taking flight- so fast was it moving towards the man doing his damnedest to kill him.
He knew it could be no one other than Aegon as his father was too far away.
Despite the agony coursing through him as well as the searing pain in his abdomen when trying to inhale such breath, he readied himself to unleash a jet of molten-hot flame on the sell-sword and destroy the bastard. He was brought to an abrupt halt when the man managed to plunge his steel into him once more.
His roar of agony could be heard all the way to the main bulk of their army miles off in the distance well beyond the city walls.
The second strike, tearing through him faster than he'd thought any man capable of, was deep in the belly of his dragon form where his scales were their weakest. The Valyrian Steel managed to pierce into him all the way down to the bone- a remarkably difficult feat considering a dragon's bone dexterity.
His lower half was nearly collapsed forward, but he still managed to use his tail to impale three of the blue-bearded Tyroshi's comrades on his spikes as he breathed dragonfire onto another bunch of them attempting to sneak up on him.
He was unable to deal out any retribution to the scum that actually injured him as Egg was now reigning down blow after blow onto the sell-sword who vaguely reminded him of a poor imitation of an Eighteenth Century color-blind pirate in his old world.
'At least the gate was secure.' He thought to himself as he noted row after row of ranks of Unsullied pouring in thru the now wide open city gate.
Ser Barristan had taken up a vigil next to his dragon form. The Kingsguard was all but daring any of the Son's of the Harpy that comprised the city guard of Mereen, or an adventurous Storm Crow that thought to test their luck on slaying a dragon to approach his injured prince. He did not think he'd ever seen the man as wroth as he was a present.
Haery had definitely never before seen his normally so light-hearted and sweet natured best friend as utterly enraged as he was at present.
Aegon's sword was dancing through the air in deadly waltz of spark and steel as it battled against his foe. The Storm Crow leader he was battling must have picked up a regular blade from someone else as he was intimately aware of the Valyrian Steel currently stuck in one of the bones in his lower extremities. Despite the agonizing pain of the blade within him, he still managed to be awed by his cousin's wroth and determination to end the one who inflicted such pain onto him.
Egg's face was a rictus righteous fury as he unleashed hell upon the sell-sword who'd injured his best friend. Normally, he'd not likely stand a chance against the obviously much more experienced Tyroshi, but the boy's desire for retribution was giving him the strength and reflexes needed to hold his own.
Some of the few Stormcrow's remaining obviously noticed the turning of the tides as the Unsullied entered the open gate. They appeared to be readying themselves to aid their leader in killing both the silver-haired princeling he was ferociously dueling, and the white-cloaked elder knight protectively stationed in front of the injured dragon. He thought it was likely in an effort to fight their way out of the city altogether.
They split off into two teams of about five men each. One heading towards their captain, the other to finish off Ser Barristan and himself.
Even though he was under tremendous strain from his wound and attempting to move was agonizing in the extreme, he would not let them kill those he cared about whilst there was breath remaining in his body.
While Ser Barristan saw them approaching and steeled his resolve to defend his charge, Haery managed to overcome the pain and regained his footing just in time to strike. Lashing out with his tail, he knocked Egg's opponent into his approaching comrades; knocking them all to the ground and actually killing two of them when his spikes pierced their light armor. Then, as gently as he could manage, he used his tail to move Ser Barristan slightly behind him as he released a massive burst of flames onto the other five mercenaries that were nearing them; roasting all of them within their armor. Their scream's rent the night air as the stench of burnt flesh permeated his senses and their flesh sloughed off their bones.
Turning back to his friend, he noticed that the gaudy Tyroshi sell-sword had not managed to regain his momentum after he'd been knocked over and was back-tracking on the defensive as Aegon cut into him mercilessly in retribution. One after the other, Egg delivered bloody cutting jabs breaking through the sell-sword's armor from sheer determination and rage. It was almost like watching in slow motion as Aegon feinted to the left; causing the Tyroshi to ready himself to block from such an angle. Almost faster than the eye could see, he switched back to the right; nearly dancing with his blade in an upward strike. He used all of his momentum and landed a forceful blow by sliding his steel into the Tyroshi's now-exposed flesh; getting up in-between his cuirass and gorget. He watched as the blade was suddenly twisted; causing the well built man to drop to his knee's in utter agony.
Egg viscously yanked his blade out of the Tyroshi's collapsed body and pulled off the man's helmet.
He looked to be attempting to say something, no doubt begging for his life to be spared, and Haery could see the light reflecting off the man's golden tooth shining in the night.
With a look of the utmost loathing in his violet eye's, Aegon grabbed the sell-sword by his curly braided blue hair and violently ran his sword over the scum's neck; slitting his throat and quickly ending his life as arterial blood sprayed him in the face.
By that point they were surrounded by a large detachment of Unsullied guard and he motioned with his head for Ser Barristan to allow Aegon closer to him. His friend was bleeding from a seemingly large number of wounds himself he'd earned fighting the much more experienced sell-sword captain. Still, he was at his side in an instant.
He motioned as best as he was able for him to remove the Valyrian Steel sword that was still embedded in him. He knew he had to get that out and at least partially healed before he dared to transform back. Otherwise, such an injury could be lethal in human form.
Having studied much about dragons including their healing and physiology since coming to live with the Targaryen's, he instantly knew what to do.
As quickly as he could, Egg yanked the blade out of him as he let out a roar of pain that was fast subsiding.
With the Valyrian Steel removed, the dragon's naturally fast healing began to take over. After all, it takes alot more than a couple of stabs to bring down a dragon as large as his animagus form.
He backed away from them all several feet before spitting a small amount of flame onto the second and more dangerous wound; cauterizing it over faster than even a dragon's accelerated healing would have.
He gnashed at his teeth to prevent him himself from emitting any more signs of weakness and felt as his body began to slowly morph back into his human form now that he was no longer in danger. He'd take a few days to heal completely, but he'd accept that over the length of time it would have taken to heal like that as a non-magical human any day. As soon as he finished shifting back to his regular silver-blonde self, he collapsed from the both physical as well as magical exhaustion. Egg just barely managed to clutch onto him and with Ser Barristan's help, eased him down to the ground.
"Thanks, Egg; Ser Barry." He managed to get out; his childhood nickname for the Kingsguard being used for the first time in years and he saw the old man smile while his friend held him close.
"Rest, Jae. We won. You're safe. Just rest now." Egg said quietly as he saw his father approaching on Balaeria and everything suddenly went black.