Game of Thrones: You Win or You Die (IC)

[Eraus]

Rhaenys smiled. The two northmen were quite a pair to host. "How do you think the Kingdom of the Reach was founded Ser Adam? Men who were brave enough to fight the Giants and defeat them. I am certain that the men of the Reach can face any foe and come out victorious. Hopefully however, it does not come to that. I would hate to see my father have to march all the way to Winterfell just to put down a revolt. I haven't forgotten the last time he went off to war, he was gone for years." She sips her wine again, having finished what she had on her plate. A thought crossed her mind and she continued idle conversation while her brother left his seat coming towards them. "I heard the most unusual rumor from a merchant last week. The last Targaryen was spotted in Essos. According to him, she had three dragon hatchlings with her. I don't know how much of that is true, but he said they were in Qaarth at some point."

"Dragons, Huh I would love to meet her and the dragons. Now your father would have a terrible time trying to march to winterfell, He would have to cross the trident, then the Neck and Lord Reed and his men are something else, Men who are truly one with the forest. They would bleed him all the way through and the terrain would slow them down which means the Reeds would Bleed them more and that would cause more deaths on the Reach's side Plus the North is Vary Defensible. So Lady Rhaenys, The Wolf can't lost to the Flower nor to the Lion or whatever you throw at it."

"Since I am a Guest in your home would you care to tell me about this place? We only found it after being lost and we were lucky that we ran into our target." Adam said to her

[Aelex]

Coast of Tyrosh, the Narrow Sea, Essos

Artheon Valaris
"Old Blood" of Volantis, Founding Member and Triarch of the "Sons of Valyria"

The transport fleets that the Sons of Valyria had hired to carry them had managed to cross the stepstones two days ago without much difficulties as, even if pirates did started to resettle them once more like the Captain of the ship he was in had warned him about, the shear size of their convoy was enough to fend off any attackers.
Artheon had enjoyed thoroughly this peaceful trip as he knew very well that this calm was merely the one preceding the storm; he had took advantage of it to relax a little with his concubines, play with his little bastards whose oldest had managed to babble "Papa" to him at least but he had also, and mainly, took a great pleasure at looking after his nephew Aegon. The boy had slowly started to be more confident around him and a strong bond was already growing between the two as they found in each other exactly what they were looking for; a young pupil eager to learn to who he could dispense his knowledge for Artheon and an older more accomplished mentor he could strive to ressemble for Aegon.

For the two weeks that the trip lasted, they had established informal school-sessions during which Artheon would either discuss old battles with him or study and talk about tactics found in one of the many strategy books he had; teaching him about the theorical part of the Art of War before he had learn by himself the technical one.
The last day of the trip, Aegon too sensed that theory had had it's time and that he would need to get to practice soon, prompting him, after quite sometime of pondering, to ask his first pragmatical question : "Hum, I hope I don't look disrespectful but, well... I tried to learn how exactly this company was runned but I didn't quite understood the explanations. I also tried to ask for how much we were but I was given numbers that seems very low when you watch the numbers of transports..."

Artheon smiled to him : "Well, listen closely as I'll answer both of your questions. Firstly, how's this Company governed? Well, to put it simply, this company is composed of thirty "divisions" of one hundred men. Each of these divisions has to elect a Captain from it's ranks each year that will direct them in battle. Until now, it's simple, right? Well here is where it start to become a bit complicated. Three divisions make a Magista and they need to, four month after Captains are elected, chose from among their captains a Magister who will be directing them all, thus controlling three hundreds men. Then, four more months later, every soldier who had been serving for more than two year will be voting to elect a Triarch who will be granted power over three Magister as well as direct control of a division, thus controlling one thousands men. Do you follow me still?"

As Aegon nodded lightly, Artheon continued : "Great, then, you see these three thousands men makes the "regular" army. It's them people were talking about when you asked them how much we were. However, to those three thousands men, you can add other mercenaries that have been "loaned" to us by others companies against a percentage of our gains, they make around five hundreds mens, approximately. You can add six hundreds more of the "reserve" that's to say men that are still in training and awaiting for a soldier of the regular army to die so they can took his place and, finally, you can add a last four hundreds that are the auxiliaries; minors and sapeurs that build the camps and help during sieges, fifers and drummers who're instilling moral and transmitting orders during battles but also some elephants, wardogs, falconers and all the other kinds of handlers of martial animals. In total, there are around 4500 men, not counting the slaves and workers also present on the boats, but not all of them are fighters and not all of them are worth as much."

His explanation finished, Artheon gaves Aegon a stern look and asked him : "So. Have you understood, now?"; the kid shook his head vigorously up and down and exclaimed "Y-y-yes!".

"Great"; Artheon said as he rose from his chair; "then now that this had been took care of, I'm gonna need your help." He headed toward his desk and took a paper that was lying there before bringing it to the kid. "Read it, understand it, learn it. This document is the only copy existing, the real one is doubly sealed and hidden in one of my personnal chest. Burn this paper once you're sure you remember perfectly each of it's terms and it goes without saying that you shouldn't even mention anything it may contains to anyone, at least if you value your own life ." As he skimmed throught it, Aegon's face had gone livid. "I-is this a contract?" Artheon nodded calmly "B-but, it's wrote that we're supposed to fight for... It can't possibly be that..." Artheon nodded once more, still as calmly "Weren't we supposed to sell our swords for some westoris lords?" Artheon smiled to him "Sure. We still are gonna do so. At least up until we need to serve our true employer." Aegon look even more astonished than before "How, I mean, when? When did you sign it?" His grin widened "In Volantis, kid. Tho that's just the last version of the contract you're seeing right now. I had pledged my allegiance way before then." Aegon looked baffled "This... This is just crazy... Do the others "Triarchs" know about it? No, I'm sure not; they wouldn't have accepted you selling your swords to a slave-riser. More importantly do she even know herself that she hired you?" Artheon laughed slightly "Ho don't worry about the others Triarchs. Sure, Raegor would try to kill me as soon as he would knew of it but Vogaro has made worst bets himself so he won't mind as long as we're successful in the end. As for our little Dragon Queen, she will either be made aware of our devotion in Volantis by the agents of the man with who I negociated this contracted or she will learn it from that fat merchant himself once she will have sailed to Pentos; both way, I'm sure our support won't go unnoticed."

Aegon sighed and said "As you say, uncle. I'll keep my mouth shut, don't worry. Just... Just don't act foolishly, ok?"; Artheon who had moved to look at the sea from the window of his cabin turned to face him : "Ho, Aeg. The foolish man isn't the one who support a kid against three kings, it's the one who is mad enough to bet against Dragons."

[The Valyria Empire]

Volantis

The City of Volantis, Inside the Black Wall

---

His Grace, Aegon, of House Targaryen, Sixth of His Name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, and Prince of Dragonstone

---

Aegon and his companions were walking down the labyrinth that was "Old Volantis". They were able to gain access thanks to Illyrio using contacts with the Triarchs. While Jon was off speaking with the lords of Volantis hopefully recruiting men to their cause.

The first daughter of Valyria. It was said that those inside these walls can trace their blood back to Valyria, however I doubt that any houses here could be as prestigious as House Targaryen. Yet they turned away my uncle, most likely still some old feuds from the Bleedings Years when Aegon I "The Conqueror" destroyed the Volantis fleet and thus ended the reign of "New Valyria" and the Tigers... Aegon's thoughts would wander for a bit thinking of the rich history of Valyria he learned while on the Shy Maid and in Pentos. Suddenly Duck would come up next to his liege.

"Your Grace, might we stop a moment? We've been walking for quite some time. We should rest and get a drink." Duck would suggest to Aegon.

"Very well, there's a winesink just outside the Black Wall in the market, the street on the left. Belwas and Arstan we're heading for that winesink." Aegon would say as they pick up the pace.

Eventually they would fine the winesink, "The Blue Dragon". The winesink for the most part was relatively calm. Aegon and his crew would take a seat at a very small table in the middle. Besides Aegon's black and red robes nothing really made him stand out from the other Valyrians in the vicinity, however Belwas made him stick out from the rest of the room.

Aegon would order a sweet Volantene wine, including sweet reds. Rolly would order a Arbor Gold a surprising sight in Essos. Arstan refused to order a drink. Then Belwas would order two sweet red wines from Lys. Aegon would gaze around the room, nothing out the unusual. Then he spotted what he thought what a Dothraki.

"Rolly, what are the odds of a Dothraki being in Volantis?" Aegon would ask after he turned back around.

"Little to none, your grace. I might not be the most educated man but I know that most wouldn't let a Dothraki come not even a longship distance near their walls." Rolly would reply.

What in the Seven Hells would a Dothraki be doing here. Aegon would ponder turning back around to gaze at the Dothraki.

"Wait a moment. A Dothraki? My aunt was Khaleesi to Khal Drogo!" Aegon would quietly whisper to his companions as he stood up and walked towards Daenerys' table. Stopping a few feet from the table.

"Daenerys "Stormborn" of House Targaryen, The Unburnt, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea and Mother of Dragons." Aegon would announce, bowing his head slightly and back pulling back up. "I am Aegon of House Targaryen, Sixth to My Name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, and Prince of Dragonstone. It's a great relieve and pleasure to finally meet you."

[Nuxipal]

"Dragons, Huh I would love to meet her and the dragons. Now your father would have a terrible time trying to march to winterfell, He would have to cross the trident, then the Neck and Lord Reed and his men are something else, Men who are truly one with the forest. They would bleed him all the way through and the terrain would slow them down which means the Reeds would Bleed them more and that would cause more deaths on the Reach's side Plus the North is Vary Defensible. So Lady Rhaenys, The Wolf can't lost to the Flower nor to the Lion or whatever you throw at it."

"Since I am a Guest in your home would you care to tell me about this place? We only found it after being lost and we were lucky that we ran into our target." Adam said to her

"Certainly," Rhaenys said adjusting her seat. "It wasn't all that long ago that the Bloodspyre and the town around us, Auror, did not exist. In fact, it was my grandfather who first built the castle which attracted a town as a safe haven from the region's bandits, which were a larger problem at the time." She seems to know a great deal of the castle's history judging from how she is speaking of it. "The castle itself was paid for by my grandmother's inheritance from her Lysene family. Between her family wealth, and my grandfather's liege lords, the Hightowers, a suitable location was chosen to both protect Oldtown and to create a new center for trade and safety in this part of the Reach. The castle obviously hasn't exactly been advertised across Westeros, but that is for the best. There are families out there that wouldn't appreciate a dragon flag flying over any battlements."

Daemon approached and took a seat, "Telling them about the castle Rhaenys? It does have a rich, albeit, short history. I was more interested in asking you about Maester Aemon of the Night's Watch. You said you had been to Castle Black. Is he doing well? I haven't heard from him in quite some time now."

[Eraus]

"Certainly," Rhaenys said adjusting her seat. "It wasn't all that long ago that the Bloodspyre and the town around us, Auror, did not exist. In fact, it was my grandfather who first built the castle which attracted a town as a safe haven from the region's bandits, which were a larger problem at the time." She seems to know a great deal of the castle's history judging from how she is speaking of it. "The castle itself was paid for by my grandmother's inheritance from her Lysene family. Between her family wealth, and my grandfather's liege lords, the Hightowers, a suitable location was chosen to both protect Oldtown and to create a new center for trade and safety in this part of the Reach. The castle obviously hasn't exactly been advertised across Westeros, but that is for the best. There are families out there that wouldn't appreciate a dragon flag flying over any battlements."

Daemon approached and took a seat, "Telling them about the castle Rhaenys? It does have a rich, albeit, short history. I was more interested in asking you about Maester Aemon of the Night's Watch. You said you had been to Castle Black. Is he doing well? I haven't heard from him in quite some time now."

"Rumors are that The Long Night is coming, Which ain't The Best thing and That means that The Watch is busy dealing with The Wildlings and if Shit is getting bad the Whites." Adam said

"Shit's bad, A Watch Deserter was running round the north talking about Seeing the White's and if that's true are may the God's help us. Link said.

"But it could just be that your ravens are not getting to the Wall, Some Northeners during War like to Shot down Ravens to pass time. I know I do, I personally prefer that one over the White Walkers cause they are not coming back." Adam Said "So, What interesting things do you Reachmen like to do?"

[Ikania]

Highgarden Citadel

"Maester Lomys," Mace Tyrell walked into the citadel hallway, catching the old man in robes as he was reading a grand book. "Wonderful to see you."

Lomys looked up, his withered face transforming to a smile as he saw the Lord of Highgarden approaching.

"Lord Tyrell," he grinned, grey eyebrows raising to his forehead. "It's always a pleasure, ser. How can I help you today?"

Mace took a seat in front of the table at which the Maester sat. He stroked his beard for a moment, before glancing at Lomys again.

"I'd like to send a raven for Dorne," he spoke, hesitation in his voice. His eyes drifted around the citadel. "To the Martells."

"Dorne, Lord? What for?"

"I want to seal an alliance with the Martells through the marriage of their princess Arianne to my son, Willas. I'll ask them to support Renly's claim to the Iron Throne, and offer a meeting to negotiate what we can give them out of this."

Lomys blinked a bit.

"That's certainly... straightforward, lord."

"I know it is," Mace sighed. "This is no time for dark wings and words. I need to be blunt, no space for mixed signals. Tomorrow we march for King's Landing, and win or lose, we're going to need those fifty thousand spears. The Dornish are loyal, like we were to the Targaryens. With luck, Doran will see the advantages of this arrangement."

"I'll write the note straight away, Lord Tyrell. Godspeed on your journey."

Mace stood up and gave Lomys a nod.

"You're a good man, Maester. Thank you."

---

The Kingsroad, near Storm's End, 18 hours later

The Tyrell army marched along the cobbled road, tens of thousands of men clad in steel, the green and yellow standard raised above their heads. With them were the small forces of Tarth and Caron bannermen, their flags flying high, though greatly outnumbered by the green. The air was cold, with a light breeze rolling through the grasslands. A grey sky overcast the march, as Mace Tyrell's horse trotted along. The armor he wore was more comfortable than he expected it to be. He hadn't seem combat in a long time, but it seemed he'd lost weight over the past week or two. With all the stress of the war, it came as no surprise. By his side, King Renly sat on a white horse, the wooden crown of House Baratheon on his head. His cheery attitude expressed confidence, a jubilant optimism that Mace hadn't felt in years. It was a carefree, content face. What a nice boy.

On Mace's right, his son Loras rode, a clouded look on his face. His armor was gleaming steel, and without a helmet his long hair flowed down to the shoulders. Loras stole the heart of nearly every girl in the Reach, and it came as no surprise. Mace had always thought that Willas resembled himself much more than Loras ever did. Loras was definitely his mother's son, but he couldn't be any prouder for raising the boy. A champion knight with great potential, and a very convenient political marriage if one was ever needed.

The wind wasn't howling, but it wasn't silent either. The sound of the breeze was mostly drowned out by the clanking of steel armor and the stomping of iron boots on the ground. The King was flanked by his guard, a good few of them holding up their standards, the stag of House Baratheon on green. A beautiful sigil, if anything. Much more appealing than a simple lion or the burning heart that Stannis used.

"I've always loved traveling this road, you know." Renly said, to no one in particular. Mace looked at him and smiled.

"Me too, your grace," Mace chuckled a bit. "I've loved traveling the Kingsroad since I was a boy. Traveled it a little too much, though."

"Really? You get sick of the open air?"

"An old man can only take so much..."

"When the war's over, I can only hope you'll be able to return to Highgarden and live your days in peace, Lord Tyrell."

Mace chuckled.

"No, my King. You can't get rid of your hand that easily. I look forward to King's Landing, and serving you."

"If that's how you wish it to be, maybe that will come to pass, some day."

"Well, always keep your eye on the prize, your grace. We'll get it soon enough."

"That we will, Lord Tyrell." Renly looked into the distance as Bronzegate, seat of House Buckler, came into view. They were making good progress.

[Lowlandsky]

The wind blew cold through the tent of Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort. He looked out at the forces assembled.

Ramsey, his only remaining heir, if the bastard could be called that, approached, his hunting dogs yapping at his feet. His blue eyes matched those of Lord Bolton "A messenger from the Starks has arrived for you." Ramsey paused for a moment and spoke again. "I don't understand, why do we volunteer for the Young Wolf? We have almost equal strength to our masters to the north, why should we continue to bring ourselves into this for them?"

The Lord of the Dreadfort gave Ramsey a long look. "It is not the forces of the Starks that bring them strength Ramsey. It is not simply their allies either. No one in the North could hold it without Stark blood in their veins. Any victory would be turned to defeat in months." He grew closer to Ramsey, "And any more words of this so clearly and obviously, and you will find yourself on the wrong side of your own dogs."

Roose stepped out of the tent, and walked a short distance to the messenger, "take me to the Young Wolf and let's see what this shall bring."

[Phalnia]

The Water Gardens, Dorne

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

Doran Martell
Prince of Dorne, Lord of Sunspear

It was evening in the Water Gardens and they sat eerily silent. The sun had set and the cool embrace of the night joined with the ocean breezes. Night was one of the few times Doran allowed himself to walk the grounds freely. His deteriorating condition was a well kept secret, only his immediate family and closest advisers and servants were aware of exactly how debilitating the Prince's gout was. Every step was a trial and Doran greatly tested the strength of his cane. Trailing a few feet behind him was Areo Hotah, the Bearded Priest of Norvos. His loyalty was unwavering and his skill with his wife-ax unparalleled in Westeros. Areo constantly kept watch over his prince and had proven his worth one-hundred time over. Doran trusted this man as much as anyone he had ever known.

Their quiet stroll was interrupted by the clinking of chains and the patter of leather on stone. From behind them a short bald fat man in maester's chains hurried towards them. In his hand he clutched a scroll. Wheezing from the exertion of running the maester handed the letter to Prince Doran, who had taken a seat on a bench to regain his strength. "A raven from Highgarden, my Prince." The maester handed over scroll from his fat fingers.

"Highgarden?" Doran was intrigued. He knew that his brother carried on correspondence with the heir to Highgarden, but Doran and Mace rarely spoke. The animosity between their two houses stretched back ages. He opened the scroll and began to read what was written. His showed little expression as he folded up the letter and inserted it into his robes.

"Maester Caloette, send word to Sunspear. My daughter is to present herself here." The Maester bowed and began to turn back to his tower. "She must leave tonight, Caloette." The Maester turned and bowed again before departing. After several minutes Doran could hear the cry of a raven and the flapping of wings. He turned to Areo. " Rouse Oberyn, and summon him to my chambers." Doran rose to his feet, his legs trembling.

Areo moved to aide him. "Please, my Prince allow me to help you."

Doran brushed away his hand. " I am still able enough to walk, Areo. Please see to my brother. And keep your discretion."

Several minutes later Oberyn and Doran sat in the Prince's chambers and spoke at length. It was nearly dawn before Arienne arrived and the three began their conversation anew.

---

The Greenblood, Dorne

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

Oberyn 'the Red Viper' Martell
Prince, Ser

The murky waters of the Greenblood slowly rolled past Prince Oberyn as he and his party followed the road towards the Red Mountains. His black hair lightly danced in the breeze. At his side rode his niece, the Princess Arianne Martell, eldest child to his brother and heir to the throne of Dorne. Accompanying her were several handmaidens and attendants. In addition Oberyn had brought a score of household guards from the Water Gardens and planned to meet more at the Stone Way. Chief among these men was Ser Daemon Sand, former squire to Oberyn and one of the finest swords in Dorne. Oberyn was fond of Daemon it was no secret, but such feelings were not appropriate at this time. As his mind wandered, movement in the distance caught his eye. On a hill not far ahead of them three riders had appeared a cloud of dust and sand billowing behind them. Oberyn could not make out their faces from this distance, but the sat high in their saddles and had intentionally blocked their path. He would have to confront them. "Arianne." He looked to his niece. "Stay here with the men. If swords are drawn ride hard back to Godsgrace, don't spare the horses. Lady Allyrion will give you shelter." Ser Daemon nodded, Lady Allyrion was his grandmother and a leal bannerman to the Martells. "Ser Daemon ride out with me."

"Of course, my Prince." Ser Daemon placed his left hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword. "My sword is yours."

"Pray we don't need it, ser." Replied Oberyn as he grasped his spear firmly in his hand and spurred his steed on. Ser Daemon followed closely.

The three riders waited some two hundred yards away their horses still and calm atop the hill. As the distance closed Oberyn could make out more and more of the figures. The front rider was a large man strongly built. But, as the yards disappeared Oberyn broke into laughter. He stuck the spear into the ground beside him and told ser Daemon to wait there. The knight seemed ready to protest, but Oberyn rode on before he could speak. As he closed in Oberyn could now clearly see their faces. The largest, could be easily mistaken for a man from afar, but up close Oberyn could recognize the hard features of his eldest daughter Obara Sand. Flanking her were her sisters Nymeria and Tyene. The two had all the beauty Obara lacked, but all three were as deadly as any creature in the desert.

The prince drew his horse to a stop before the three of them his smile wide. "Obara, Nymeria, Tyene. How good to see you. But, I must confess, your presence in this place causes me some confusion. Please relieve me of this perplexity."

Obara was the first to speak, as was her way. "We have heard you and Arianne left the Water Gardens in a rush."

"We came to see what we could learn." Added Nymeria.

"Trying to learn anything from Oberyn is as pointless as trying to a house of sand." Tyene chipped in, her voice soft and lyrical.

"I did not know you three were so scholarly, I had thought Sarella was the only one among you to care for such things." Oberyn said his eyes narrowing at their intrigue.

"When it concerns Dorne and the House Martell we care for all things." Obara barked at him.

"Then understand, what I intend to do and what my brother has asked me to do is for the good of Dorne and House Martell." Oberyn replied his smile fading.

"Pray tell father," Nymeria cried. "what is it you intend to do? Why you have brought Arianne here?"

"If it will cease your prodding and prying I will tell you then." Oberyn's voice sounded tired. "Word was sent to Sunspear from Highgarden. Lord Mace Tyrell has offered his son Willas to Arianne in exchange for our support of his daughter's new husband, the proclaimed king Renly Baratheon. I have been tasked to bring her to meet these men and negotiate on behalf of our house."

Tyene's pale face had turned bright crimson. "Willas! Willas Tyrell!" Her horse dug nervously at the ground as she shouted. "Not five years ago, less than ten leagues from were we now stand you chased me and Arianne down and dragged us back to Sunspear, for attempting this same task!"

"Calm yourself Tyene." Oberyn's voice was mellow and soothing to the ear. "Five years is a great amount of time. Plans fall apart in such a span of time and new plans must be forged to take their place. Yes, the task I undertake is eerily similar to the one you once attempted. But, this one differs in one key aspect. I have not spirited away Arianne in the dead of night against her father's wishes."

"And why were we left out of this task, father? You have brought so many men and said scarce a word to us."

"Obara, is that why you have tracked me down and block my path? You thee wish to join us?" Oberyn asked a laugh in his voice.

"We wish to see to Arianne's safety and secure the future of Dorne." Obara answered.

"Very well then. You three may join us. I shall take you with us. You three shall take the guise of handmaidens to Arianne. Best that none know your true identities or purpose." Oberyn awaited as the three exchanged whispers and glances.

Obara spoke on their behalf. "Tyene will wear the robes of a septa, Nym will act as a handmaiden, and I shall bear my arms and armor."

Oberyn sighed. "These Andals won't take kindly to a woman of arms, Obara."

"That never deterred any of us before. You should know that." Chimed Nymeria. "So what do you say?"

"Very well. We ride to Storm's End to meet the Tyrells and their king. I'm sure Arianne will be glad for the company."

Soon enough they were off again following the course of the Greenblood towards the Stone Way.

[Great Franconia and Verana]

Volantis

The Great Harbor

---

Her Grace, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, Rhoynar, and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea and Mother of Dragons

---

Daenerys closed her eyes as the crowds swelled around her in the Great Market. Many eyes were drawn to the interior of her great swan feather cloak, no doubt many pairs of which were thrives looking for a good item to snag. But, as the Khaleesi sipped on her win, it's fruity flavours dancing across her tongue like a Lys bed slave, the young Queen saw none of them. Volantis was the bastard child that Valyria had left behind, nothing compared to a true born Targaryen.

Dany had often heard Viserys plan and plot with the rich and powerful of the Free Cities, each man having his own plan and his own personal gain from the venture. The Archon of Tyrosh had offered Viserys half of the cities fleet and all its soldiers, if only he promised to give Dorne to him as a gift. The Prince of Pentos had espoused great admiration for House Targaryen but his throat was cut by thr magisters before any plan could be made.

All the ideas Viserys had, ended in nothing. He was the Beggar King, and years later, Daenerys, Wife of the Great Khal Drogo, had been relegated to the same stature.

No more,she vowed. I will not sell myself for vague promises and illusions of grandeur. If I cannot find help in the Free Cities, then I must search elsewhere.

A voice broke her from her reverie, a high pitched yet clearly high born sound that broke through the ambient market noise like a whip.

A young boy, around Daenerys age if not a year or two her elder, was wading through the crowd. He was tall, and thin, lithe, but strong. His hair was striking platinum and his eyes a deep indigo. A Valyrian of only the purest blood.

Dany harsly paid attention to his droning until he said his name. Aegon VI, of House Targaryen. She nearly scoffed, though simply stood.

"My nephew then?" She asked, clasping her hands in front of her stomach. "The very same boy whose head was dashed against the wall by Gregor Clegane? I do not know who you are, Ser, but I do not like to be toyed with."

Aggodrew his arakh.
"Shall I get this lying pig, Khaleesi?" He asked, gutteral dothraki speech spilling from his mouth.

"No," the Queen replied.
The boy was smaller than both her blood riders, though the second man he was with looked like something of a warrior. She would rsther not lose either Aggo nor Rakharo to miss chance however.

"I am Daenerys Storm born of House Targaryen," Dany intoned, eyeing the pretender Aegon. "My family is dead, you are nothing. Go, before I change my mind and let Aggo split you in twane."

The Dothraki eyed rhe oair of men, but a flicker of doubt lit itself in Daenerys' heart. No one hsd seen Aegons death, that is true. But all accounts say he died.

Studying the boy nore closely, Dany squinted. He had the Targaryen hair, and eyes, though these colours could be imitated or even passed down among nobles in the Free Cities. But his nose and mouth, the forms of his cheeks and the roundels of his eyes....

Viserys often said all Targaryens looked generally the same. But this boy, he had all the superficial qualities Viserys claimed for himself, but with a mix of something, intangible. His jaw was strong and chiseled, his body fit and thin but broad shouldered. Could he be?

Its not possible, but it cannot be otherwise. He looks like Rhaegar!

[The Valyria Empire]

Volantis

The City of Volantis, The Great Harbor

---

His Grace, Aegon, of House Targaryen, Sixth of His Name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, and Prince of Dragonstone

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What.... Aegon was taken back by her sharp tongue. He had expected her to be a kind gentle soul but her years with the Dothraki must of shaped her into someone more worthy of the name Targaryen. Good, when Aegon "The Conqueror" took his throne his wives were warriors, merciless and willing to do anything. But it's not too shocking she doesn't believe me. I could be any Volantis Valyrian. I need proof.... Aegon thought to himself as he bowed his head and returned to his companions.

Aegon would keep his eye on Daenerys. At long last, the other living Targaryen...my aunt. Aegon would say in his mind as he resumed his drink.

Eventually after a few hours Jon Connington would finally join Aegon's company. Jon would be in the standard Stormlander armor with the sigil of House Connington on it. On his belt his long sword would dangle along with a dagger on his right. In his right hand he would be carrying a sword tightly packaged in a golden cloth. Next to him a man who looks little like a warrior. He is portly, with a big round head, mild grey eyes and thinning grey hair that brushes sideways to cover up a bald spot. The second man is Harry Strickland, Captain-General of The Golden Company. Harry would be in glistening golden dyed armor with jewels of many colors dangling from his neck and many golden rings. Quite a contrast to Jon.

The two men would stand before Aegon. Jon would hand the sword in cloth to Harry who would then hand it out to Aegon and speak, "Your Grace, this here is the ancestral sword of your house." Harry would pause before saying, "Blackfyre!" not shouting but loud enough for Daenerys to hear.

Aegon would grab the hand-and-a-half longsword and untie the ropes keeping the sword clothed. Once the rope fell the cloth followed. The moment the cloth touched the ground the Valyrian steel was finally able to be shown to the world. The dark Valyrian steel glistened slightly in the sun. Aegon would hold the sword up for all his companions to see.

"I haven't seen that sword since my youth. Not since I slew Maelys "The Monstrous" on the Stepstones." Arstan would say moving towards Aegon. Arstan would then kneel before Aegon. "I apologize for the falsehood but I had to be sure you were the one. Your grace, I ask to be the first of your Kingsguard, to fight along side you like I did your father. I want to repay my mistakes and for failing your father by not protecting him. I am Ser Barristan of House Selmy." Barristan would announce to Aegon.

Aegon would then lower Blackfyre and place his hand upon Barristan's shoulder. "Ser Barristan "The Bold", you served my father faithfully. You did all you could to protect him. I know you will do the same for me. Rise Ser Barristan, as Lord-Commander of my Kingsguard." Aegon would announce as Barristan would stand up. "Strickland, see to it that Ser Barristan receives armor worthy of a member of the Kingsguard. We're finally going home." Aegon would announce as he leaves the table, Blackfyre in hand. "Once I convince my aunt." he would say under his breath.

Duck would have to disperse the minor crowd that had gathered around them so that Aegon could reach Daenerys. Once again Aegon stood before her. Aegon would plant the sword in the ground in front of them, holding on to the pommel with his right hand. "Daenerys Targaryen. I hope that little spectacle was able to convince you." Aegon would pause for a few moments before saying, "Daenerys, I need you. We are the last of the dragon we need to...no we must cooperate for the continuation of House Targaryen. I have the Golden Company, you have three dragons. I propose a marriage between us just like our many ancestors have done for centuries. The blood of Valyria and The Dragon must remain strong and pure. We will take back our home from the Usurpers. We will rain Fire and Blood down on our enemies. We will bring peace and prosperity to the people of Westeros." Aegon would pause again before resuming his speech.

"I ask that we return to Pentos. There I will send letters to House Martell, Tyrell, Bloodfyre, and the many loyalist houses who may still hold loyalty to House Targaryen. I've heard word from my contact in King's Landing that the Martells desire vengeance for my mother and sister's death. After the letters have been sent we shall begin our invasion of Westeros. With the help of Illyrio's wealth, my army and your dragons we shall be unstoppable." Aegon would conclude by taking a knee before Dany and looking straight at her. "I only ask for your hand in marriage."