Davos
There was a strange atmosphere about the Red Keep since the moment Jon was crowned king. The people were all at something of a standstill, like they were not sure how to react. There was hardly any love and appreciation for the Lannisters, especially among the smallfolk, but neither was there any for a man with the name Targaryen after how badly the realm bled with the last one who sat on the Iron Throne.
But Davos knew that Jon would show them better. This was a new start for the Targaryen name and it wasn't going to begin in blood, but honor and integrity. It was high time for a good man to be at the helm of Westeros.
He did have to admit though that a part of him regretted not immediately deciding to go back to his little keep with Marya and his sons once Jon had named him Hand of the King. But he was pleased to know that a ship had been sent out to fetch them so they would live with him at the Red Keep. Finally, he could do his duty and be with his family. He missed them too much. He couldn't thank Jon enough for that.
They knew him as a common landed knight in Stannis' service. Now he was Hand to the King of the Seven Kingdoms. Marya would get the luxury she deserved.
He was seated with his King at the Small Council chambers. The other members were doing their duties, Lady Sansa organizing the castle staff and refurbishing the grounds to dispose of the Baratheon and Lannister decorum, and Jon made sure to be present with Arya Stark as well when that horrendous statue of Joffrey was torn down from the gardens. The Blackfish was doing a damn fine job reorganizing the City Watch once he pulled a hundred of the Valemen sworn to Jon to join the Gold Cloaks and appointed a new Lord Commander from his own ranks.
And of course Lady Olenna had already filtered and cleaned out many of the dirty leaks in the coffers which many lords were leaching from the Lannisters. Such became an easier thing to do after Tywin died, it appeared. But Baelish's mess was still the biggest monster to clean. Hopefully the plans Jon and Olenna discussed would work.
So for today, it was just the two of them.
"You've sent some men to look at the sewers then?" Jon asked as he opened the report regarding the assessment of their conditions.
"Had to make a few steep offers, but nothing we can't afford. And we've already received a response from a master architect in Pentos, but I wouldn't bother because he has an introduction fee."
"Introduction fee?"
"Sort've like a finder's fee. But for this man it is a fee for, and I quote, "the honor of addressing and conducting business and art with one of such skill."
Jon snorted. "Go ahead and send a response that we decline. The one from Myr isn't nearly so obnoxious." He rolled up the report and set it aside. "I'll need you to gather up another team of men, roughly forty to fifty and any with mining experience."
"Does Dragonstone need more men for the dragonglass?"
"No, they are doing well. This is for something local. The Dragonpit. I want it excavated and cleared out of the rubble and remains. I have reason to believe there are certain treasures under the dirt that'll be useful and it can be a possible place to use as a barracks."
"The City Watch and the Red Keep-"
"Not for the guards, Davos. An army, a royal army sworn to the crown itself, not to the vassals. Once we get our debts paid and our coffers filling again, we can properly arm and train men for battle. Send a raven to the Citadel to send out the call of service. Men who willingly want to be soldiers."
"Given the current state of affairs, there might only be a few who come. They don't know you well yet. But they will once we get the ball rollin'." Davos pushed another report in front of Jon. "Here's the assessment of the damage of the Great Sept. The land's scorched, rebuildin's gonna take decades, and the people faithful to the Seven are asking for a place to seek refuge and prayer."
"Let's get the rubble cleared first. I don't think I'll have it rebuilt as it was. The grandiosity made it a place for corrupt holy men to live wealthily. But for now, see if there's a building anywhere in the city that can be refurbished into a sept for the people." Jon paused, looking off into the distance. "I want a godswood raised up someplace in the city as well."
"There aren't many followers of the Old Gods south of the Wall."
"But some nonetheless. They deserve a place of faith and peace as much as those who follow the Seven and the Lord of Light."
"But what would we do about the lack of a weirwood?"
"There are many that grow on the lands of Sea Dragon Point in the North. We can transplant a pair of trees from there to the city. One for the People and one for the Castle."
"It's not going to be cheap."
"But it is possible. Make it happen. That's a command."
Davos nodded. He had his belief in the greater magics and powers, but he still had his doubts about the gods, especially those that commanded the burning of children.
The gods give visions… It is up to men to interpret them. Was it wishful thinking so he could sleep at night? Perhaps, but it worked. Were it up to him, the Lord of Light would be outlawed throughout the city..
As things continued on with a few more orders of business and kingship to be taken care of, Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr had made their appearance as requested by Jon.
"Your grace," Beric said with a bow and Thoros did the same. "Congratulations on restoring your House to its rightful seat."
"Thank you, Beric. I've asked you here to extend an offer to you and another to the remains of the Brotherhood." The group that Jon had encountered at the cottage was only part of what remained of the Brotherhood without Banners. There were several dozen others scattered throughout but the summons was made to be ready for something, at least as far as Davos knew. "With the Mountain's arrest and inevitable execution, what is the purpose of the Brotherhood without Banners?"
Beric spoke calmly. "Our purpose was to carry out the final order of Ned Stark, to bring justice to those who preyed upon the innocent and the one who led them. But once we met the Hound, our path was shown anew, to fight the dead where the Lord of Light guides us."
"And if I laid a path in front of you?"
A shrug game from the ragged red priest. "It would be one to consider," Thoros replied.
"Not one, two." Jon said. He gestured a hand to Thoros. "Winterfell needs more men to help prepare for the dead. You have experience turning common men into warriors that can best soldiers. They can use you."
Thoros shrugged. "It'll be in a castle as warm as Dorne in the winter. We'll head there straight away, but it'll take a while for us to gather our numbers."
Jon nodded and looked at Beric.
"Is there something else you have in mind for me, your grace?" Beric asked.
Jon nodded. "I have retained none of the previous members of the Kingsguard, except for possibly Jaime Lannister. The others are thugs rather than knights who'll be wearing black at the Wall. I need men I can trust to fight alongside me. And I need someone who can understand my lead more than anyone else."
"Hmm," Beric pondered, "My path is where my Lord guides me. If I were given sight upon somewhere else I must go on his command, would you allow me to leave?"
Jon was still but stared directly at Beric's eye. "Only if his will commanded it."
Davos tensed. Why did Jon sound and feel just like a believer of the Lord of Light? He knew that Jon wasn't really, even after being brought from death there was certain resistance against faithfully following the Red God.
His King was still an enigma sometimes.
"Then I will become your Lord Commander, King Aegon. Do you have an oath that I must take or shall it be the same as it has been since the founding?"
Jon didn't answer immediately. Instead he thought about it for half a minute. "I think it's time for a change, but not yet... That reminds me, whomever the castle's chief armorer is, have him meet us before the afternoon is up. The Kingsguard needs armor that isn't gilded or ceremonial. And it will do well to have something besides stag motifs for the House of the dragon."
At that precise moment a young man entered. He was one of the castle staff. "Pardon, your grace, but the Lord Hand's wife and children have just arrived."
Davos felt a quick chill run down his spine before his feet were nearly making him run out of the small council chambers. He at first thought they would be at the harbor, not waiting for him in the bloody throne room. Marya and his sons, all there.
"Marya!" He exclaimed as he ran to them with open arms that engulfed his wife and his sons. He truly feared that some evil would never let him see his family again after their last moments together, but here he was with them, defying that fear.
Marya opened her mouth to speak but let out a sudden gasp. Davos looked behind him and saw Jon standing in sight of them. "Is that the King?" she whispered.
"Aye, it is."
Marya fell to one knee and their sons did the same. "Your Grace," she said.
"Please, stand," Jon said as he approached. "You are most welcome here, my lady."
"You honor us greatly, your grace. We will strive to serve as best we can for you."
Jon nodded with a soft smile. "Your husband has already proven himself one of my most trusted allies I have been able to rely on among all within my service. And now that you're here to witness, I can repay that loyalty." He presented a folded up parchment he had been holding at his side out of sight to Davos.
"What's this?" Davos asked as he took it.
"My declaration of your elevation, Lord Davos. As well as the gift of lands granted to your family. There's a castle that used to belong to House Toyne."
"High Heart Keep?" He'd been there once before when the Toynes were still around. It was a six leveled tower with two keeps that sat upon a small hill that was protected by stone walls. With the Toynes wiped out, the keep was empty.
"It's yours now. May it serve you and your family well for a thousand years."
Davos lost his breath as he looked at the words of the unfolded parchment, able to read almost every bit of what it said. "Thank you, my King." His voice trembled slightly, but not because he was moved greatly by the generosity of the gifts. His heart was broken because Shireen could not see how much he had become from her lessons in reading and writing. Because of her, he could understand something so great for his family.
Missandei
"I don't understand exactly what…"
Giggling, Missandei placed a finger against Greyworm's lips, stilling his speech. "In Common Tongue. You still need plenty of practice."
Greyworm scowled, undoubtedly hating his heavy accent and halting speech in that language. But Missandei knew her twinkling eyes could break him. Several moments and she beamed triumphantly as he sighed in defeat. "I do not know what is snow?"
"Snow is frozen water. It falls from the sky like rain and is very cold."
"Cold, like breeze from sea at night?"
He was getting better in his diction, but sentence structure and accent still a mess. Missandei would pick her battles, though. "I only encountered snow once, when on a voyage to Ibben with my former master, the one before Kraznys." She had told him all of her experiences in bondage, much as she did with her Queen but secure in the knowledge that he could relate as a slave himself. Daenerys… her bondage was of a different sort. "It was like nothing I had ever experienced."
"No snow in Naath?"
"Nothing like it, and the cold is nothing like a desert night."
Greyworm shuddered. "It does not sound good. Why do Northmen live in snow?" An Unsullied feared nothing, but the unknown was reasonable to be wary of until it was understood.
Somehow it humanized them into something not mindless weapons equipped only to follow orders. On Missandei's account, it only made her feel closer to their enigmatic commander. "You'll be fine." She patted him on the chest. "Your new armor is warm and there are thick clothes you can wear to be warmer, so stop worrying. It's unbecoming." Grin on her lips, it began to falter as her hand didn't leave his chest. Instead slowly caressing it. Gulping, she looked up at him, only to see his normally solid eyes swirling with emotion.
It wasn't planned, but just happened. Their lips connecting in a sweet kiss underneath the starlight. Greyworm's hands chastely holding her hands to his chest… Enjoying the gentle warmth that escaped from such contact.
But the moment was fleeting in the grand scheme of things. Greyworm pulling back, his eyes searching over her as Missandei breathed deeply. Coconut-colored skin flushed with warmth and desire. "I… I check on the men," he spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. "Lady Missandei… is well?"
She nodded, not wanting him to assume anything. "I am well. You are a good kisser."
He seemed to stand straighter at that, though his demeanor otherwise was that of a boy just having begun to grow into manhood. "I am glad, Lady Missandei." He bowed graciously and marched away into the rest of the dark ship bobbing on the sea. Missandei leaned across the railing, sighing with joy. The numerous sexual experiences she had, some willing and some not so much, none were as wonderful as that kiss. Oh how she wished it could've led to something more underneath the stars of the open ocean.
But Greyworm seeking out his duties sounded like a good idea. Perhaps her Grace had something she wished done even at this late hour. Or wished to talk. Straightening her dress, Missandei made her way to the aft castle of the large galleon upon which the Dragon Queen's personal retinue traveled towards the final conquest.
The restoration of House Targaryen.
Dothraki bloodriders standing guard clearly marked the chambers of Daenerys Targaryen, but for Missandei they stepped aside. Eyes raking over her body in the black gown she wore, but knowing not to touch. She had been a slave to men's lust before, but no more. She had dragonfire protecting her now.
But she blinked in surprise as she found Daenerys not alone. "...your leave to send such a raven upon landing, your Grace." Theon Greyjoy stood in front of the seated Daenerys with his head lowered. Both were clothed, him in his sea leathers and her in a simple sapphire dress. A vision of feminine beauty, one all lusted after. "I… I wish to know if Lady Sansa is alright."
"When Dragonstone is ours, Lord Theon, I shall have ravens sent to all the Lords Paramount of Westeros. And if house Stark is in need of aid taking Winterfell back from the Boltons then they shall have it."
"That is a wise move, your grace. An alliance with House Stark would be beneficial both militarily and for your image in Westeros. The Targaryen Queen allying with a House upon which it caused so much loss upon during the reign of your father." Bowing, he turned, noticing Missandei with a slight shock - only to compose himself and bow respectfully. "Lady Missandei."
"Lord Theon." He nodded once more and departed, door closing behind him. "Your Grace…"
She was cut off as Daenerys embraced her closely with a smile. "It is just us alone, and you are one person I can call my friend. Allow me the luxury of some informality."
Missandei smiled, enjoying both the nickname and the closeness between them it represented. "Alright, and thank you, Daenerys."
"Please… sit." Doing so, Daenerys reclaimed her seat across from her. Two young friends speaking over warm mulled wine rather than a Queen and her faithful handmaiden. A pureblooded Targaryen royal compared to a Naathi slave trained to be a translator. As far apart as two women could be, yet here they were. "Now, what is on your mind?"
"Oh, nothing much." Missandei's eyes sparkled. "Greyworm and I shared a kiss."
Daenerys looked in surprise. "Truly?" A grin. "Was it just a kiss, or…"
Her brows rose. "Just a kiss."
Daenerys giggled while she blushed. "Would you like to discuss it further? Or perhaps there was something else on your mind."
Missandei shook her head, still a little embarrassed by these new feelings. "I was hoping that there was a matter on your mind that could use a second set of ears, Daenerys."
"Oh." The Queen appeared disappointed in losing the chance to discuss some gossip, but it was fleeting. She sighed, sagging in her chair. "Aside from Lord Theon's concern, tonight has been about concerning myself with what Tyrion calls 'My best chance at securing an alliance and therefore the Seven Kingdoms.'"
It took a moment for Missandei to translate that statement. "You mean marriage." Her blood turned cold at the implication.
"Aye, marriage. Finding a highborn man to wed." She chuckled dryly. "Unfortunately, Westeros is filled with a dearth of eligible men."
"Who did Lord Tyrion point you to?"
She shrugged. "Of stature to be a King Consort… There are some sons of House Hightower, or Robin Arryn of the Vale, though Tyrion alluded that only if I were desperate would I wed that 'half-grown man child.' There was also Loras Tyrell or perhaps the heir of House Dayne."
"I believe Lady Yara offered as well," Missandei joked.
The Queen giggled with her. "There was one other mentioned by Theon. The bastard son of Ned Stark, Jon Snow. He's the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, but the prospect of his family's home and even the name Stark would entice him. Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell." Daenerys weaved her fingers together. "Someone will have to do."
Opening her mouth to speak, Missandei paused, sucking in a breath. Polishing her thoughts before trying again. "Your Grace, the lack of eligible consorts only masks the true concern I have in regards to your marriage."
Daenerys looked at her closely. "And what is that, dear friend?" Words sweet and casual, her expression seemed to understand the seriousness Missandei conveyed. "What should I find worrisome when seeking a consort among the men of Westeros?"
"There was a reason that I said nothing about your relationship with Captain Naharis." Instantly she watched Daenerys tense, eyes closed as she wished anything but to discuss the issue. "I know the topic is embarrassing…"
"Naharis… he was just a dalliance. I trusted him as a commander in my army and I still do, but as a lover it was just pleasure."
"That is not what I challenge. You are a woman grown and can decide to join whomever you wish in bed. I know you no longer have your maidenhead and know better than to have the babe of someone so low…"
Daenerys cut her off. "You know better than to speak such."
She sighed. "Forgive me, Daenerys, I know." This was going off on a tangent. "I bring up Naharis not on that matter, but for comparison. He… he was lowborn. There was no chance of him exerting dominance on you and it was clear that you were the Queen in charge of him. That… might not extend to those in Westeros that would seek your hand."
"You mean they would rather be King than my consort, push me to the side?" She snorted. "The dragons flying overhead make that concern unlikely."
"If you marry them for simply alliance then yes. A heart guarded will never be pierced by any force of arms, but if you open your heart…"
Blinking, Daenerys appeared confused. "What do you mean?'
Missandei leaned forward. "If you fall in love."
"I don't think that is a likely concern."
"I fell in love," she admitted freely, smiling for a moment at the thought of Grey Worm. "The life I lived… I never thought I would love yet here I am with my heart belonging fully to another. It can happen to you, and I fear that would create the conditions upon which you grant your consort the power he could never take for themselves." All these men spoken of, they were faceless names. All could be threats, or none could, or some in between. "We… those of the Bay of Dragons, of the Dothraki Sea… we chose to follow you. Bow to you. Fight for you and no other. What other King or Queen would bring Fire and Blood to emancipate the world? To break the wheel as you said?"
Reaching forward, Daenerys placed a hand on hers. Smiling softly. "No person in the world could keep me from delivering the justice I promised. Your soul need not be troubled by that fact."
Missandei breathed deeply and smiled back. "I am glad… In my life I have served many, and only you have I served willingly." She trusted Daenerys Targaryen to always keep her word. The men of Westeros though, they she shall never trust. By whatever gods were out there, Missandei swore to ensure none of them would end the glories of the Mother of Dragons.
Whether Daenerys loved them or not.
Ellaria
"Dragons are returning to Westeros," Ellaria said to the other Dornish nobles gathered around. They all sat at a long table in the outdoors of the Water Gardens. The sky was full of thick clouds giving them all much needed shade, but their lives were spent day after day under the wonderful heat of the sun, so it mattered not to them.
"No," argued Atticus Dayne, "they've already returned. One sits upon the Iron Throne now and if the rumors are true, he didn't even need to shed a single drop of blood for it. Not even Tywin Lannister could accomplish something so great."
"Psh," Ser Ryon Allyrion scoffed at that remark.
Atticus grew firm. "Tywin Lannister was an unmatched Lord in Westeros when he lived. Only a fool would disregard him like you do. And if a Targaryen has the resources and will to be greater than the might of him, then we must consider this new King with much regard."
Ellaria saw that of all those gathered, only Franklyn Fowler and Anders Yronwood seemed to take those words into consideration while the other men and women of Dorne stirred with disgruntlement and disregard. It figures that the descendants of the First Brutes would be slow minded like this.
As for her, she kept her composure on the outside but inside she did not think highly of this new King. He was nothing more than some nobody claiming to be a Targaryen who simply found a great amount of luck is all.
She had received a raven this very morning regarding an invitation of parley. This Aegon Targaryen was asking her to present herself to the Red Keep to pledge Dorne's fealty and discuss justice for her crimes. He also offered her the right of executing Gregor Clegane, an offer she seethed at for it was something she wanted so much. But the way the letter read about justice, she took it as him accusing her of something. She would not fall for some trap.
"Whatever prowess this supposed Targaryen has, it will not be enough to match the power of three real dragons. Daenerys Targaryen is coming, with the same number of dragons as Aegon the Conqueror and ten times the army he had. I have made my decision. Tonight, my daughters and I sail for Dragonstone to meet and swear allegiance to the Dragon Queen. Dorne's vengeance has been ignored for too long and through Daenerys Targaryen, we shall have it."
"Dorne's, or yours?" Atticus stood from his seat. "This meeting is nothing more than a farce to see who aligns with your agenda, Ellaria. I know you sent the Martell Fleet to ferry Daenerys Targaryen's army. If you want loyalty, ask for it instead of slithering around like you have something to hide. I'm returning to Starfall to consider this."
"Coward," Quentyn Qorgyle said with venom in his tone, "your brother wasted his final days protecting the bastard of a whore instead of the true heirs to the Iron Throne. Do you plan on doing the same?"
Atticus stood taller than he had since his arrival. "The King upon the Iron Throne has the command of six Kingdoms. He is bringing strength back after the War of the Five Kings and now we are on the verge of what could possibly be the most brutal and harshest war in the last several thousand years, and winter is upon us. My brother did his duty, and I shall do the same by protecting my people how I must."
Ellaria leered at him. "And you think the best position to do that is at the mercy of a dragon's breath? Be careful how you proceed, Lord Dayne."
"Or else you'll send one of your snakes to stab me in the back? Or will it be poison instead?" He shook his head at her. "Oh how Prince Oberyn would look at you with disgust at what you've done."
Ellaria stood from her seat but Atticus and his guard were out of the garden already. She should send someone to kill that prick. Maybe she would, but not now. The Daynes have six thousand strong and Dorne could not start any infighting at a time like this. She looked back at the rest. "Oberyn fought for Dorne. I fight for Dorne. Where do the rest of you stand?"
"With Dorne," Ser Ryon said firmly and a nod of his head and many others chorused together.
The meeting adjourned and all departed to return to their respective lands and gather their strength. It was time for spears to sharpen and shields to broaden. Ellaria lingered at the table when everyone left and her Sand Snakes wandered to her now that they were alone.
"This dog on the throne," Tyene began, sitting on the table with her legs crossed, "what should we do about him?"
"I say we take his head," Obarra hissed with a glare as if the answer was obvious. "If he's a spawn of Rhaegar and the Stark whore then let's take what's owed to us. Dorne's blood was meant for the throne, not some Northern ass."
Nymeria giggled. "Always death and despair, sister? If rumors are true they say he's actually quite good looking, and without a wife. Maybe we can find our way into his gaze and later his bed. Strong arm him into complying with Dorne for a worthy match instead of some pale-skinned tart."
Obara looked at her quizzically. "And will you volunteer to get heavy with a babe to tie you to him?"
"I'll do what is best for Dorne. Can't say that you would, Obara. Besides, one babe born, a vial of poison later, and Dorne rightfully has the Iron Throne and the Targaryen name."
Tyene giggled as Obara spat on the ground at Nymeria for mocking her choice in sex. "You'd be wasting your time," she said while popping her fingers with her thumb. "If you really searched for whispers about him, then you'd know he's not one to take a bedmate. He's had that redhead cousin of his since he left Winterfell but he hasn't touched her. There's also a rumor that at least twenty noble daughters have tried presenting themselves to him but he's hardly looked haughtily at them."
"Then he's either a eunuch or a sword swallower." Obarra scoffed.
"That's enough." Eliara hissed. "He was raised as Ned Stark's bastard and probably the embodiment of the man's code of honor. If he were to squirt a babe into some woman's cunt, he'd marry her the day after to keep her honor intact. But I doubt any woman who knows even that would succeed in seducing him. He's going to be more careful than Robb Stark was. If he's looking for a wife, it'll be someone with powerful ties."
"There's no one left with any real power except Dorne-" Nymeria began but was cut off.
"Have you not heard that a Queen with three dragons is on her way? He'll most likely set his sights on her. But he has nothing to truly offer that she wants." Ellaria began to bite at her nail.
"He has the throne," Nymeria recalled.
"And you think Daenerys Targaryen will buy it from him? She will take it with Fire and Blood. That is why she is the real dragon and the whoreson is a pretender." She looked at her daughter. "Tyene."
"Yes, mama?" Tyene stood up from the table, looking eager.
"Is the ship ready to leave?"
"They wait for your order."
"Then it's time for us to go and meet our new Queen."