Chapter 12
Meereen was the crown jewel of Slaver's Bay. The city was mostly famous throughout the globe for three reasons: The Pyramids, The Slaves, and The Fighting Pits.
Yet apart from three, many forgot of another thing closely associated with the pits. The gambling. And it was this very thing that because of which Daemon sat in a manse with a slew of servants, not slaves, for they were all free men and women who had chosen to continue in his service after he had taken over their contracts from their previous master. And it was but one of the three manses he owned in the city, along with many more such servants, after collecting on his debts.
"I want you all to leave the manse for tonight," he spoke, and immediately, many paled at his words as whispers began to bubble. The people infront of him had known about slavery and servitude for all their lives, and though he had been able to break them free of their chains, servitude remained ingrained in their very being. Servitude and fear.
"There is no need to worry," he began as he raised his hand to stop the murmurs.
"For this is only for tonight. You can all return to your regular duties by tomorrow morning," he announced as the female servant at the head of the group stepped forward.
"But your magnificence, who will tend to you for the night," she questioned worriedly that they were being let go; many of them had yet to understand that they were free, and many among those who had understood their freedom had continued on in their survival for they would have starved otherwise. There was little to Meereen's commerce besides the trade of slaves, though the city had copper, which was thought useless to many, but his own craftsmen worked the cheaper metal as they made large pits for distillation.
"I shall be fine by myself. All of you are to leave the manse, go to your families if you have them, or drown away the night, I care not," and with that, he turned away. Many of the smarter one's had probably understood what was going on. After all, it was quite well known that despite all that wealth he had procured, he had yet to call in all the debts.
Many in the city owed him much, and they were not the simple men like before. No, they were the Wise Masters, and they would not part with their wealth so easily. Yet they had forgotten that he was not a regular person either.
They will be reminded of it, though. Soon. Very soon.
The manse was emptied on his orders, the servants leaving him alone in the expansive building. It was amongst the smaller ones in the city, yet he had little need for a big manse. He sat down on a chair in the central lobby of the manse. It had no roof and allowed one to see the clear skies. He watched the sky darken as the moon rose and the city's bustle died down until only the creaking of the night remained as he sat there, his eyes closed, his hands caressing the blade, which now had a red ruby in its hilt.
The steel mask he had commissioned hugged his face, leaving only space for his eyes, which he opened as he heard the door to the lobby get torn off its hinges.
BANG! BANG!
The door broke and he narrowed his eyes as the manse lip up around him, the fires erupted and began to spread all around as a figure stepped out of the shadows, his body massive, with hulking muscles and skin scarred all over. His eyes gleamed an ominous orange due to the fires as he carried behind him a thick double-ended spear. The fires spread to the lobby surrounding him and this hulking giant of an intruder as Daemon rose to his feet and looked around at the raging flames as he uttered with a smile, which would remain hidden underneath the steel mask that now covered his face.
"Hello, old friend."
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TYWIN LANNISTER
Tywin Lannister had thought the war had ended when he had heard the word of the Battle of the Trident. The rebellion forces had essentially won the war, though their victory could more easily be credited to the stupidity of Aerys and his eldest.
Had Aerys ant sense, he wouldn't have killed the Northmen and the Valemen. He should have kept them imprisoned, yet in his madness, the King had thought it wise to burn the Lord Paramount of the North and his heir, as his son kidnapped and vanished with the man's daughter and the betrothed of another Lord Paramount.
It was stupidity and hubris which had begun this war, and hubris of Rhaegar when he had chosen to cross the river at the Trident rather than letting the rebellion armies do that for him, that had ended the war.
As much as he may wish to join forces with the rebelling lords, he could not, for Aerys held his son, his heir. And apart from that, Tywin did not like the thought of another Great House rising up in the station and taking the throne, for it had been the dragons they had bowed their heads to, and despite his claim, Robert Baratheon was no dragon.
Yet he had ridden, with twenty-five thousand men, towards Kingslanding with banners of no side as he wished to win him and his House the favour of the victorious lords, putting them in his debt. And that had been when the letter had arrived, two letters, one from the Maester of Kingslanding bearing the Targaryen seal, and another from his ears in the city.
They had a new King.
Daemon Targaryen, the King's youngest son, had returned from the dead and had taken the throne for himself, displacing his own nephew as heir. The letter bore the seal of that Martell witch as well, leaving little chance that it was falsehood. His ears in the city sang a similar song and spoke of a massive upheaval that had caused damage to the outer walls, leaving the city ripe for capture.
He could sense something wrong with the missive, that it seemed to deliberate, yet it gave him an opportunity.
He had seen the King's second son grow up in the Red Keep. The younger Prince was unlike both his father and brother and had a sharp mind on his head. He was the only one at court who dared to stand up to his father and his hubris, futile though his attempts may have been. They were always well-reasoned and showed a sharp intellect even as a child. He knew that because for a time the Prince had acted as his cupbearer and page.
A sharpness he still retained if his response to Tywin's little test was anything to go by.
Tywin had thought Rhaegar would gather support after that incident to depose his father, for the King was much unpopular after the burning. Yet the Prine had done nothing. He had continued riding to Summerhall with his friends and wandering the realm with no purpose, giving up on such a crucial opportunity.
As he watched their new King ride into camp with his fifty men, he found his suspicion being confirmed as he saw his face, or more specifically, saw the mask that covered his face. It was made of steel that covered all of his face leaving behind only slits for those amethyst Targaryen eyes, which seemed locked onto him. And besides the King rode, Elia Martell, the Dornish princess's presence had been somewhat of a surprise, yet he was not lost to the significance of the message, that Dorne stood by Daemon.
It could just be posturing, a ruse, and there could be strife between them given that Daemon had disinherited her son as he had taken the throne, yet the Dornish woman must have at least some understanding that without him, she and her children would by now have been butchered.
"You were right, this is him," Kevan muttered from the side as he realised that their theory about Daemon being the Liberator from Meereen was right. Though that brought up with it a whole new slew of problems.
In the retinue of fifty, Tywin's eyes failed to find the form of his son. Jamie was nowhere to be seen, his absence a threat to him, for if the talks were to deteriorate anytime, the King could always threaten him using his son's life.
The fifty men hung back as he and Daemon rode toward each other, galloping on their horses until they were mere feet apart from each other.
"I must say, I was surprised that you, one of the most leal lords of the realm, chose to raise their banners against their king," he began, and Tywin narrowed his eyes.
"I am afraid we were misled by one of your fathers' councilmen, we received missives from the Spider that the capital had been taken over by heathens from across the Narrow Sea, and so we rode to rid the capital of such miscreants," he answered, and it was a half lie. He had received such a missive indeed, yet he could easily see through it for what it was.
"Ohh, and did you not receive a missive from the Crown from the crown itself, telling you of your new King," he questioned, Tywin's eyes narrowed.
"That missive arrived too late. By then, the vanguard already had a day's march on us, the riders I sent never made it to them," he answered, his lips thinning into a line.
"Interesting, but you must understand that I could not let a force threaten the kingdom now, could I? After all, as King, I must defend my lands as my duty, and your men were a threat to them," the King answered as he jumped out of the saddle. Tywin did the same as both of them walked towards each other until they were face to face with one another.
"I find it intriguing that the Spider's webs fooled a man of your intellect, Lord Tywin" the King spoke, mocking him yet also giving him a way out, one which he must take for the survival of his house.
"Momentarily," he answered, as he let the Targaryen boy take the victory.
"Yet I am here now to swear my fealty to the new King, yet your armies still march on towards my land while your navy hovers around my shores," he questioned pointedly.
Right now, as they spoke, ten thousand Dornishmen, accompanied by fifteen thousand Reachmen, marched towards his lands. The Royal Navy lingered around Lannisport, and Tywin was not blind to what they represented. It was reassuring in some way that their new King had the acumen to look ahead, and given that he also had his son and was unmarried and unbetrothed at the moment, this provided him with the biggest opportunity to further himself.
"You swore oaths to the King, oaths which you broke when five thousand of your men marched towards the capital. So, I am afraid I am in doubt of just where your loyalties lie, Lord Tywin," the King began.
"They lie with the one true King," he answered. He saw the King's eyes gleam as he felt the air rustle, and he found those eyes staring through him as if his thoughts and plans lay abre infront of those amethyst orbs.
"Then kneel, renew your vows, and let us have peace," the King offered, and Tywin took a step back as the Lion knelt once more to the Dragon.
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JON ARRYN
The rebellion had been going from strength to strength. The call for the banners had been a big step, as he roused up Robert to pick up his arms against the Targaryen regime. King Aerys's madness had been visible to many over the years and that was why many of the Great Houses had joined each other through fosterings and marriages to prepare themselves for such a day.
And the day had come as Prince Rhaegar proved himself little different than his father and fled away from Harrenhall with the betrothed of another Great Lord, dolling on him insult and humiliation.
Lord Stark and his heir had headed to the capital to demand the return of little Lyanna, yet King Aerys, in his madness, would do the unthinkable and burn the whole retinue with wildfire, killing not only the Lord Paramount of the North and his heir but his heir as well.
That had been the last straw, call to arms were made at that and when the King asked him for the head of Rober and Eddard, it was time to raise the banners.
With Rhaegar being away, the support for King Aerys was little, the King's antics and actions had pushed away many a lords yet the Reach stood by him, as did Dorne as they would for Princess Elia was married to Prince Rhaegar. Yet Tywin Lannister remained neutral, his eldest son in the King's grasps.
They had won battle after battle, and when Rhaegar's forces had crossed the rover at the Trident and him and Robert had faced off in the river, he had thought the war ended with Robert's killing blow, as the Targaryen host lay shattered and broken with thousands dead and hundred captured.
Many flocked to their cause for victory was certain. Even with the miraculous return of Daemon Targaryen, their chances of victory were better.
That was until today.
"Lord Tywin Lannister has aligned himself with the Targaryen cause," he told Eddard who had joined him in the tent as he handed him the letter. The war had taken his youth from him, and even at his young age, frowns wear marred his face as Eddard quickly reached for the letter and began to read it.
"This is bad," he reasoned out and he was right. It was bad. Tywin Lannister had a reputation, and that meant something especially now given that the Prince had slain five thousand of his men in a display of his power and savagery, which had convinced the Lord Paramount of the West to join his side.
"It is, and I have also received word that there is movement of forces in the Reach and Dorne as well. I believe the war is not as over as we thought it to be," he replied as Eddard sat down and the lord of the Vale drowned the goblet of wine, as he tried to make sense of what it was.
"The Targaryen now have complete naval superiority over us given that they control all of the major fleets except for the Black Fleet of the Iron Islands, which have chosen to stay neutral until now. With our forces as they are, our shores are wide open for an attack," he said worriedly, and though he had written to the lords who governed castles near the shores of the Vale, North, and Riverlands, their simple weren't enough men to guard the shores from any major attack.
"The King also has gathered a substantial host for himself, studded with men that have supposedly travelled with him from across the Narrow Sea. I have been told that these very men led the attacks on the Lannister vanguard under his command where they killed all five thousand of them, leaving none alive," he told Eddard of the troubling word he had received from some sources in the capital, which told of smitheries burning for days as the men drilled for hours.
The atmosphere in the capital had been elated after the word of the battle had spread, and now, with Lord Tywin's forces at his command, they had lost their biggest advantage as well.
"But why would they agree to such a thing? After all, Lord Tywin did try to sack the city, didn't he?" Eddard questioned, and there was the naivety of youth in his question, for he knew little of Lord Tywin Lannister.
Jon, on the other hand, had seen the man grow up, for he had been alive during the times of his father, Lord Tytos, and had seen firsthand how the Lord of the West had rebuilt his house from the tarnished remains in which his father had left it in.
"Lord Tywin chose to side with the Crown, for they had more to offer him. King Daemon is unmarried, just like Lady Cersei, moreover the King also has a hostage in the form of Ser Jamie Lannister, and then there is also the fact that Lord Tywin is a proud man," he finished, and Eddard's frown told him that his former page understood little beyond words as he continued.
"Lord Tywin is the lord Paramount of the richest. In a sense, his House has greater power and importance than Robert's House Baratheon. Robert ascending the throne would not have settled well with the man for how could someone of lower status rise to a station beyond him, and proud men do not like to look up," he elaborated as Eddard nodded.
"But Robert has the blood claim," and that was naive thought, for blood mattered little in his claim. Robert's main claim was his martial prowess and his uncanny charisma, and of course the support of several Lord Paramounts.
Blood had little to do with his claim.
"Yet that would matter little to Lord Tywin," he answered, and Eddard was about to speak up when suddenly a servant entered the tent, huffing as he spoke up.
"My lord! My lord! I bring grave news!" the servant began, and he felt his heart sink as the young man opened his mouth and put forward an unsealed scroll.
"Storms' End has fallen!"
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ELIA MARTELL
Elia watched the men of the West depart and couldn't help but think how badly Rhaegar had messed up. She was not truly happy with how things had proceeded, yet they had occurred as per Daemon's word.
"You were too lenient," she said to him, and his eyes didn't shift away from the backs of the departing army as he replied.
"Maybe I was, but I also gave him very little. And the punishment for his actions will come to him in the future, delicately but surely. I have neither forgiven nor forgotten," he assured her, and that was some surety, but she wondered how he would punish the Lord of the West.
"You also had him take away most of his men. Why?" she questioned, watching as a servant approached him and gave him a missive.
"Because I had little need for all these men. Eight thousand were enough, and with his brother in command of them, I have another hostage against him," Daemon replied as he read the missive.
"But why?" she questioned once more. Daemon did not share his war plans with her, though would elaborate upon them if she were to ask about them.
"Because of this," he replied after a few seconds of silence and handed her the missive he had just received. She plucked it from his hands with a frown and began to skim over it, though the first words stuck out.
'Storms' End has fallen.'
"Impossible," the words came out of her mouth without a thought, for all the children grew up hearing tales about the infamous castle of House Baratheon, a castle which had never fallen in more than five hundred years.
"Not anymore, and with that, the rebellion is over," he all but declared.
"The Royal and the Lannister fleet will soon move towards the Riverlands and will cut off their supply lanes and curb any reinforcements," he elaborated as a map began to form in her head.
"It's a strategy as old as warfare. I am going to smash the whole rebellion force on this naval anvil," he declared as the whole plan clicked together.
"Hammer and anvil," she repeated, and he nodded.
"One of Rhaegar's big mistakes was that he went to fight Robert on his terms, when he crossed that damned river. It was foolish but I do not plan to do that. Rober Baratheon will have to come to me. And in doing so he shall ride towards his own death."
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