The Young Griff stroked his blue hair in a futile attempt to make it behave against the winds coming from the sea. He was going to meet his last remaining family. He needed to be presentable. He needed to look like a king.
The Golden Company had been traveling towards the south-eastern part of Essos, hoping to find some work in Volantis, Qarth or even Slaver's Bay when urgent news came from their ally across the Narrow Sea.
Apparently, the Seven Kingdoms were about to be engulfed in chaos because the King had just killed his wife and one of his Kingdguard under the charges of adultery, treason and murder. More than that, the King's children were not his own, but bastards born of incest between the two dead culprits. The only problem was that they were Lannisters and, most specifically, Lord Tywin, were not about to take this offence lying down.
With this news it became apparent for the leadership of the Golden Company that their window of opportunity to invade Westeros would arrive earlier than expected and that they'd need to move soon. Luckily, their ally had also sent a solution to this problem. They were to rush to Pentos, where one of the Magisters was keeping his uncle and aunt as honored guests.
Following Targaryen tradition, he was to marry his aunt and together they'd set sail to Westeros with the Golden Company and other sellswords Pentos had hired for them. Not to mention they'd likely have allies in the continent when they arrived.
Dorne had much to gain in siding with them, perhaps even a marriage proposal between his uncle Viserys and Lady Arianne Martel, not to mention their vengeance for Elia. Of course they couldn't get Tywin Lannister as he would probably become an ally, but they could still get their lackeys once it was all said and done.
The Reach could be offered a similar deal, if Dorne wasn't amenable to their cause. Viserys for Margerry Tyrell and a few positions for Reachmen in the small council would greatly bolster their lost influence under the Usurper. They had great reasons to accept and, perhaps, were even better allies than Dorne. After all, the Reach was the breadbasket of the Seven Kingdoms, had considerably more men than Dorne and didn't have a vengeance quest against the Lannisters, thus not alienating another powerful ally.
The point here was, did the Young Griff, in truth Aegon Targaryen, had a vengeance quest against the Lannisters?
Was Tywin Lannister not the one who betrayed his grandfather and sacked King's Landing? Were it not his Mad Dogs that, under his orders, killed his mother, his sister and that poor boy that was placed as a decoy in his place? Was it not Jamie Lannister who killed his grandfather with a sword in his back, breaking his vows? Were it not the Lions who had greatly benefited from the Stag's reign on the throne? Shouldn't he set out to avenge his lost kin instead of allying with their murderers? Perhaps the death of his son and daughter at the hands of the Usurper and having bastard grandchildren was punishment enough?
These were questions he had been asking himself ever since it had become known what had happened in Winterfell. Ever since Tywin Lannister became one more name on their list of possible allies. Still, he knew that wasn't fully his choice to make. At least not yet.
He was taken away from his thoughts when the sight of the Free City of Pentos came closer to them. The coastal city was definitely a sight to behold. The sun glistened against the seawater and bathed the roof of the houses, markets and luxurious palaces alike. A simply breathtaking view. Their walls were manned by Unsullied and sellswords, who also had the responsibility of city guard. Aegon knew the Unsullied were a great fighting force. If only they could have some when they went back to Westeros.
People made way for their group to go inside, while most of the Golden Company prepared to make camp outside the city.
"Your Grace" came a voice behind him as they passed the gate into the city "How are you feeling about meeting your family?"
Aegon turned to him with his violet eyes and examined the man as he approached with his horse. He had been with him for as long as he was a baby. He had guarded him, nurtured him and taught him. In his heart, Lord Griff, also known as Jon Connington, was as much a father to him as Rhaegar Targaryen.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. We've never seen each other and the rumours I've heard about them aren't good. Viserys is allegedly the Mad King reborn, while Daenerys is shy and weak. I hope these rumors aren't true."
"Don't worry" Jon Connington patted him gently on the back "I'm sure these are baseless rumours. Besides, even if there's some truth to it, your uncle will never be king. He has no true support while you have the Golden Company, with 10 thousand swords, at your back. You have the better claim to the throne and you will be King. His madness, if it really exists, will do no real harm as you will hold all the power. As for Daenerys, she is young and her personality is not fully formed yet. With your guidance, she can become stronger."
"I guess I can only hope," said Aegon, turning to him with a heavy smile "Thank you for your council, Jon."
Lord Connington took a good look at the boy, as he had done countless times before. He had the same purple eyes, the same cheekbones, and jawline of his father. Seven Hells, he even had the same air of authority and regal posture Rhaegar had, if only slightly dampened by his youth.
He wasn't able to serve his friend back at the time of Robert's Rebellion. Even thinking about how he had had the chance to end it all at the Stonny September, but chose the honorable path instead, made him flinch in self-reproach. Had he ordered his men to storm the temple, Robert would be dead, Rhaegar would be alive, Rhaenys would be alive, Elia would be alive. He would have his friend and Aegon would have a whole family.
Well, King Aerys would also be alive… but he wouldn't pose a threat to the realms for much longer, if his friend's plan to depose him and assume the Iron Throne went according to plan.
Allas, there was no point in dwelling in the past. Jon Connington was at least happy he was able to save Rhaegar's son and raise him as best as he could to take his father's inheritance back.
Not five minutes had passed since they had crossed the gates and a group of people approached them. Aegon's escort moved to intercept them, but as a few men broke formation to get into position, the other group stopped and one of them, better dressed than the others, stepped forwards, bowed and spoke.
"My Lords" the messenger said with a silk voice "My employer, Magister Illyrio Mopatis, bids you welcome to Pentos and invites you to stay at his residence for the duration of your time in the city. If it pleases you, we may depart towards it at your earliest convenience."
Aegon examined the men and his entourage. The man was middle-aged and wore a fine tunic, somewhat expensive even. It was clear the men had some position of trust besides the Magister, which came with a good salary. The others were mere servants, there to care for the messenger's whims and overall not noteworthy. He felt insulted at this welcome. That definitely wasn't the way to receive a future King, even if in disguise.
"Did the Magister send only you to welcome us?" asked Aegon "Is the Golden Company and its leaders not worth more respect from the Magisters of Pentos?"
"My Lords" the messenger gulped and looked around as if he expected being watched from all corners "I apologise if my presence offends you. Magister Illyrio thought it would be best to receive you properly at his residence, so that your family could reunite for the first time away from prying eyes."
Aegon understood the intention and his posture relaxed. He looked at Jon Connington and nodded. The former Lord of Griffin's Roost took point and answered the messenger.
"Very well, take us to Magister Illyrio"
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The Magister's palace was definitely a place of refinement and luxury. Were Aegon a man of weaker mind and simpler ambitions, he'd have traded the Iron Throne for one of these without a second heartbeat. But, allas, he wasn't this kind of man.
The place had an abundance of servants, always going about their business and making their best to stay out of the way of any guests or important inhabitants of the palace. Slaves in all but name, Aegon thought. With his education, he could clearly recall that slavery was banned in Pentos as a consequence of a treaty signed with Braavos long ago. Still, although they weren't called slaves nor treated with the same cruelty one would treat them in Volantis or Slaver's Bay, they held no real freedom, as their meager salaries wouldn't allow for more than a single day of self sustenance outside of the servitude in the palace.
Even despite the treaty, Pentos did have slaves in the form of the Unsullied. Aegon had seen plenty of the eunuch soldiers on the walls and patrolling the streets. In the palace, the guard was composed almost entirely of these formidable soldiers, although their armor was more pompous than the typical one from Astapor.
Aegon, Jon and other important officers such as Harry Strickland, made their way through carefully arranged orchards, intricately carved staircases, pillared galleries and pointed arches until they arrived at the courtyard before the central chamber of the palace. There, a fat man with a two-pointed beard awaited them with a big smile. Flanking him were two teenagers of platinum hair and violet eyes.
"Ah! My Lords, allow me to extend you my warmest welcome to Pentos and my humble residence!" said Magister Illyrio as they dismounted "Oh, and where are my manners, please allow me to introduce to my guests, Viserys Targaryen and his sister, Daenerys Targaryen"
No fancy King of the Andals and other equally fancy titles for Viserys? Aegon thought to himself.
While the Magister talked, Aegon analysed him and his other guests. The Magister was a flamboyant flatterer, but if his sources were to be believed he was a close friend of their ally across the Narrow Sea and a pivotal supporter in Aegon's return to Westeros. He'd have to be careful around him. He could neither afford to offend him, lest he loses his support, but neither could he allow himself to be heavily indebted to the Magister. The future King couldn't owe too many favors to foreign powers or he'd end up as a puppet.
Daenerys, on the other hand, seemed to wish she could merge with the walls beside her and disappear. He could sense her fear and was slightly disappointed that the rumors about her being weak and timid were true. Still, upon closer inspection, he noticed one thing. Her eyes did not hide from his. She was afraid, yes, but there was more there. Curiosity, yes. Hope, even, perhaps that she'd one day return home. But there was something more, something that seemed buried deep. He hoped to find out what it was in due time.
Finally, as for Viserys, Aegon could already see everything. Jon had taught him how to read people and, to them, the platinum boy was an open book. His puffed up posture showed his arrogance. The tight grip on the pommel of his sword showed his rage, even if he was trying to hide it. His eyes, however, darting from Illyrio to Aegon, then to Jon, and finally to the others, showed something else. Fear. At that moment Aegon understood that Viserys knew he had come for his claim on the Iron Throne.
"Where's the one they're trying to pass as my nephew?" said Viserys approaching Illyrio, while trying to sound authoritative "Come on, let me see him! I want to see the pretender"
Annoyed by his uncle's words, Aegon took several steps forwards, his armor clingin with each step. Viserys instinctively moved backwards.
"I'm here, uncle. I'm Aegon Targaryen. Don't mind the blue hair. In less than a moon the color will be gone and you'll see I have platinum hair just like yours. I hoped, given that so few of our family still lives, that you would welcome our meeting, just like I welcomed meeting you and aunt Daenarys."
At the mention of her name, Viserys shot her a look that made the girl flinch and try even harder to hide in plain sight. As her brother's gaze turned back to Aegon, the girl perked up once again, eager to hear the conversation.
Viserys was furious. First of all, he doubted the person in front of him was a real Targaryen. More likely to be a Blackfire or some other heir of the Valyrian blood trying to usurp his birthright as a puppet of the Golden Company. And, if he was really a Targaryen… Well, that thought made Viserys even more enraged. Where were this boy and his mercenaries when the Usurper's assassins hunted them across every city of Essos? Where were they when Daenarys and him suffered in poverty? When Ser Willem Darry died? The answer was simple: nowhere to be found. He was of no help and neither were his men.
His face drew an even darker semblant as he continued in his thoughts. All this time he had begged, sold his family's heirlooms, and did his best to protect his sister, that ungrateful bitch. She awoke the dragon in him more times than he could recall, but that was for another time. He'd settle this with her later. Now, however, this pretender showed up, with an army, provisions, wealth, and, if he was to be believed, a better claim than his to the Iron Throne.
For almost a year Illyrio had supported his plans of conquest. They even discussed selling his sister to a Dothraki Khall so that he'd have an army to invade Westeros with. But all of nowhere Illyrio shot the idea down and said that there was a change of plans. Soon he had learned that this change of plans had everything to do with this Young Griff. He wanted to cut him down. Him and Illyrio, that traitor. Then take the Golden Company for himself and go after the Usurper in Westeros. He wanted…
"Prince Viserys" said a man who stood next to Aegon "I don't think you will remember me, Your Highness, but I'm Jon Conningon, Lord of Griffin's Roost and Hand of the King to your father. I was a close friend to your brother, Prince Rhaegar and I swear to you in my honor that this is his son Aegon. Ask anyone who knew Prince Rhaegar and they will tell you the same. The similarities are undeniable."
Viserys had no answer, but his anger subsided for a moment, given the distraction offered by this man calling himself Jon Connington. Daenerys showed no signs of movement in the meanwhile. If only she could invite them inside, where the sun didn't hurt as much. There they could talk over some food and drinks and perhaps her brother could be persuaded to see reason. She could only hope that this Aegon was better than Viserys.
As if reading his thoughts, Magister Illyrio intervened as well.
"Your Highnesses, My Lords, why don't we enter and talk this over in a calmer environment. I had a banquet prepared in your honor and I'm sure it will be to your satisfaction."
Viserys shot Jon and Aegon one last angry look before turning on his heels and marching inside, as if he was a great general or monarch. Daenerys looked at Aegon and even dared smile in his direction before her brother's voice yanked her inside as if on a leash.
Finally, the leaders of the Golden Company went inside after them and one Magister Illyrio breathed a sigh of relief. After all, there was no fighting. It was a better outcome than he had expected. He thought by now Viserys would be a corpse and his blood would be staining his courtyard with the sin of Kinslaying. Perhaps that was hope for the Prince after all.
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Hey everyone, Agandor here!
Thank you for reading this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it!
Chapter 9, coming on Monday, will bring us back to Arabella's arc! It will be quite bigger than my usual chapters here. That's not something I plan to do often, but I felt that it needed a couple thousand words more to get the feeling straight in the next part.
Have a great weekend!