Inside the Dark Room
Baelon was caught off guard as he was dragged into a dark, dank room. The space was complex, with small compartments like a beehive. The walls had no windows, and the interior was damp and dark, with moldy moss growing in the cracks of the masonry.
"Whoo-hoo~"
Baelon struggled, thinking he was being abducted.
"Shh, don't make a sound!" a voice whispered urgently. A furry head rested on his shoulder, and the strange accent made it clear the speaker was a little girl.
Baelon immediately quieted down and reached out to pull away the dirty hand covering his mouth. A casual glance revealed olive skin and rough knuckles rubbing against his cheeks. The owner of the small hand did not resist.
"Who are you?" Baelon asked, quickly drawing back and turning to face his rescuer. He saw a young girl with a head of fluffy black hair.
"My name is Nettles," she replied. Her dark skin and almond-shaped eyes gave her an exotic look, and she looked at the silver-haired boy as if he were a precious treasure.
Baelon felt uncomfortable under her scrutiny and took a step back. She was considerably older than him and had a fierce appearance. Her face was freckled, with a crooked nose that bore a clear scar as if it had been broken by a fist. Despite this, her wide-set eyes radiated confidence.
"You..." Baelon began, hesitating to explain that someone was trying to kill him.
Before he could continue, Nettles flashed a broad smile, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him further into the house. "Hey, Aranda, I caught a dragon rider too!" she called proudly.
With a creak, she kicked open an old door, and a beam of light pierced Baelon's eyes. The bed frame creaked under the strain of the sudden illumination.
A middle-aged woman with similarly fluffy curls and a fit body was in the room, busy with something. Nettles's sudden entrance startled her, and she quickly dismounted from what she was doing.
"Sorry!" Nettles immediately turned around and looked away in embarrassment. Baelon was stunned and confused, having never seen anything like this before.
The curly-haired woman cursed and hastily adjusted her skirt. Seeing the situation turning awkward, Nettles kicked Baelon in the butt and said angrily, "Come with me."
Still dazed, Baelon followed her, trying to make sense of his bizarre rescue.
"Ahem..."
Suddenly, a violent coughing sound came from the bed.
"Wait."
Baelon was taken aback by the sound, feeling it was somehow familiar.
Nettles kicked him again, shouting angrily, "How dare you look!"
The boot connected with his buttocks, but it didn't hurt at all. Baelon was rooted to the spot, his voice filled with surprise. "Uncle, are you here too?"
Without the curly-haired woman blocking his view, he saw the young man lying on the bed. He had wet silver hair and a youthful, pale face.
At that moment, the young man coughed repeatedly, wiping the water from his lips. The curly-haired woman knelt beside the bed, apologizing profusely.
Baelon shook off Nettles, who was a head taller than him, and walked excitedly to the broken bed. "Uncle, it really is you!"
Aegon barely stopped coughing, his face turning red. Seeing his good nephew, he quickly grabbed the sheet to cover his lower body, his face wrinkled into a ball. "Baelon, why are you here?"
"That's what I want to ask you," Baelon replied, looking between his uncle and the curly-haired woman with strange eyes. 'Aren't you supposed to be with your younger brother?'
Today's experience was more thrilling than the past six years combined.
"Uh... this..." Aegon stammered, quickly changing the subject. "Say! Why are you here, or I'll tell Rhaenyra."
He couldn't admit that he had been chased out of a high-class brothel by Aemond and had picked up the first prostitute he saw. That was not something to boast about to his nephew.
Glancing at the poor, curly-haired woman, he warned her, "Don't tell anyone about what happened today!"
She nodded fervently, promising repeatedly that she wouldn't tell anyone.
Aegon sighed in relief, pulled out three gold dragons from his pocket, thought for a moment, and put one back. He then tossed two to the woman. "This is 100 times your normal price. Don't tell anyone!"
"Don't worry. A dragon wouldn't be found in a mud pit," the curly-haired beauty replied, delightedly picking up the gold dragons.
Aegon glanced at her with pity and began dressing. If only money could solve everything... This encounter had cost him dearly, enough to spend a month in the flea bottom brothel! He gritted his teeth, thinking how unlucky he was.
Fortunately, the money was well spent. If Rhaegar found out he was in a place like this with his nephew, he would cut off his third leg. While dressing, Aegon eyed the simple Baelon, contemplating how to keep him from telling anyone.
He was about to weave a little lie.
Baelon grabbed his uncle by the arm and said urgently, "Uncle, come with me. There are assassins outside."
"Wait a minute. Let's talk this over," Aegon replied, stunned and thinking he had misheard.
Baelon, jumping up and down in panic, pointed to the alley. "I can't wait. I'm going to be assassinated!"
"Who would dare to assassinate you?" Aegon asked, clearly confused and incredulous. The idea that anyone would target the heir to the throne, Rhaegar's eldest son, seemed absurd to him.
Baelon, anxious and angry, dragged his uncle towards the door. "Don't ask questions. Maekar has gone missing!"
Seeing a relative for the first time in a long while felt like grasping at a lifeline. Despite his young age, Baelon was incredibly strong and literally pulled Aegon out of bed.
Aegon, shocked and aware of his own physical decline, looked at his limp legs and pinched his fat little belly. Finding an excuse to refuse, he said, "Don't be impulsive. Uncle will take you to find the patrol."
Six years ago, he might have been ready to fight, but his skills had long since deteriorated.
Baelon took his refusal as cowardice and angrily shook his hand off. "If you won't go, I'll go myself," he declared, heading towards the front door.
Nettles, with shifty eyes, watched the argument between uncle and nephew, then followed the silver-haired boy. Before leaving, she slyly picked up Aegon's belt, took a ruby from it, and hid it in her sleeve.
Aegon, helpless and resigned, hurriedly put on his clothes and followed his nephew out the door.
...
The Alley
The assassin leader sneaked into the alley, sniffing the stench in the air, his expression unchanged. Soon, he found a broken wooden door covered in urine and feces. Grinning, he inserted his dagger into the door and tried to pry it open.
Meanwhile, at the entrance to the alley, a man in a black robe walked along the narrow street, observing the poor vendors on either side. Turning a corner, he spotted the assassin leader attempting to pry open the door. He took a good look at him from a distance: calluses on his hands, a scar over one eye, lean and energetic, but lacking signs of systematic training.
The black-robed man smiled and noticed a skinny old man selling stone carvings at his feet. Bending down, he picked up an uncarved stone and walked into the alley with light steps. The old man's eyes were cloudy, and he dared not speak, instead burying his head.
Click! Click! The assassin leader squatted down, repeatedly prodding the door latch with his dagger. After two unsuccessful attempts, he angrily tried to kick the door open, failing to notice the approaching danger.
The black-robed man walked silently until he stood behind his target, weighing the stone in his hand. "Hi," he said politely, tilting his head to the side.
The assassin leader turned around in horror, but before he could react, the black-robed man struck. Bang! The skull burst, sending a piece of bone flying into the pit of filth.
"With this level of skill, you dare to be an assassin," the black-robed man muttered, shaking his head regretfully. With a gentle push, the corpse fell backward. He bent down, dragged the body into the corner, and a strand of silver hair fell over his shoulder.
Rhaegar lifted his hood and stared at the broken door. Aegon was inside, as was Baelon. The two of them, one big and one small, were far too careless. "I will have to clean up this mess later," he sighed in frustration and took the dragon compass from his necklace. The compass was simple and elegant, its needle spinning back and forth.
He had just seen the patrols leave and had already found Baela and Aemon. He hadn't seen Rhaena yet, but he needed to find his youngest son, Maekar, first.
Hum. The needle pointed towards the harbor, and the spider web with the blood pattern froze, depicting a dragon egg. Rhaegar put on his hood and set off, the compass in hand.
As he passed the skinny old man selling stone carvings, he casually threw back the bloody stone and two silver coins, each with substantial weight. Without saying a word, he continued walking.
"Thank you, my Lord!" The old man got up and knelt down again, biting the silver coins in surprise to test their purity.
After a while, two small figures approached the alley, peeking in curiously.
"Dead?" Nettles stretched her neck, spotting the corpse.
Baelon pinched his nose and pushed aside the dirty bag on his head, saying calmly, "I heard the sound of the patrol."
Although curious about how the assassin had died, seeking help was more pressing.
...
In a dark alley on an unknown street, Rhaena fled in a panic, pursued by two assassins. Unlike her sister Baela and Aemon, she had attracted their attention.
The assassins, their faces covered, shoved aside vendors as they chased her.
"Ah!" Rhaena slipped and screamed, eyes shut tight.
Boom! Instead of the expected fall, she crashed into a hard chest. Looking up, she saw a serious face wrapped in a silver helmet.
Arryk looked solemn and drew his sword with a swish. "Prince Daeron, take Lady Rhaena and go."
"Daeron!?" Rhaena was overjoyed to see Daeron beside the Kingsguard.
"Follow me," Daeron said, helping his fiancée to her feet. A group of patrols escorted them to safety.
With no worries, Arryk charged forward, sword in hand. The assassins, knowing their fate was sealed, tried to flee.
"Stop!" Arryk was quick, like a leaping shadow cat, and soon caught up with the assassins trying to blend into the crowd. He stabbed one, piercing his belly. As he pulled out his sword, the intestines spilled out.
The other assassin, terrified, ran for his life, but Arryk was faster. He swung his sword and cut him in half at the waist.
...
At the Sea Snake Harbor
At the harbor, sailors were in a panic, screaming and running in all directions. Rhaegar, dressed in black, boarded the ship and entered the cabin, which was wide open.
Humming. The compass hummed slightly, its needle glowing. Rhaegar spun around, pointing at a dimly lit storage room.
Bang! A wooden door was kicked open, revealing a dimly lit figure.
He stood there, tense and drenched in sweat. In his arms, Maekar was curled up, shivering. Addam, holding a hammer, stared at the door, a dry basket slung over his shoulder.
Rhaegar took off his hood and looked at the pair in surprise.
"Father!" Maekar suddenly looked up and cried out in a pained voice.
Seeing the handsome, silver-haired man with purple eyes, Addam's pupils shrank, and he stammered, "L-Lord."
(Word Count: 1,957)