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Resting in the shade of one of the more intact structures of Vaes Tolorro, Daenerys Targaryen watched with a light smile on her face as her son suckled at her breast while Droga pranced about on still unsteady feet as the little dragon hatchling hunted after the numerous flies that'd made their home in the ruins. But as she watched her children feed and play, she couldn't help but feel anxious as well. A feeling that had unfortunately become quite common for her ever since the death of her husband. A week had passed since her and what remained of her khalassar had arrived at this ruined city, and almost the same amount of time since she'd dispatched her bloodriders out to scout the surrounding area. Of the three, Rakharo and Aggo had both returned with nothing to show for their efforts after being gone for three days and nights. Jhogo, however, had not returned. And now as they were approaching a week since his departure, Dany was starting to feel the cold tinges of despair fall over her at the thought of what might have befallen one of her bloodriders.
Hearing a light mewling from Droga, Dany smiled as she reached down and caressed her daughter's scaled head. Some might call her mad for such thoughts. But now that she had this…bond with Droga. She truly did feel as if the little dragon was her daughter, as much as Rhaego was her son. She was no simple beast. She was her child. And just as she would give her life, her everything, to protect little Rhaego, so too would she give everything to protect Droga. At least until the dragon had grown. For Dany was under no delusions that once Droga had grown to full size that her daughter would truly need her for protection.
Hearing the light crunch of sand and stone, Dany looked up to find her little moment of peace being disturbed by Ser Jorah. The older man was pointedly not looking at her breast where her son was feeding. "Forgive the intrusion Khaleesi. But a small column of a dozen men are approaching with Jhogo at their lead."
Feeling her son let go of her breast, Dany gently cradles Rhaego while rising to her feet. Turning, she found Doreah immediately by her side. "Keep Rhaego and Droga out of sight," she instructed her handmaiden, handing her son off to her. "At least until we know more about who Jhogo has returned with."
Doreah took Rhaego gently in her arms. But when she glanced down at Droga, she hesitated. Mostly because the little dragon was growling lowly, an almost cute sound, at the prospect of being separated from her mother. "Go with Doreah, little Droga," Dany said to the dragon, whose snake-like head twisted up to look at her. "I will be alright, little one."
She could almost feel a sort of…pouting, coming from her daughter as the dragon's head dropped and she waddled over to stand next to Doreah. Giving her children one last glance, Dany righted her dress, pushed her back up, and made a quick glance at her person to make sure she was presentable before allowing Ser Jorah to lead her towards the outskirts of Vaes Tolorro.
Arriving at what was once perhaps a main gate, Dany stood side by side with Ser Jorah with Rakharo and Aggo quickly joining them just as Dany began to make out a small caravan approaching the ruins. At best, she would put their numbers around perhaps two dozen that were either walking or, in Jhogo case, riding a horse. There were also two small ornate carriages that were being led by a single horse each. Once they were close to the ruins, Jhogo urged his horse to a gallop so that he could reach her before the others. Coming up to her, her bloodrider effortlessly slid from his saddle and sank to a knee before her. "Khaleesi. Forgive my breaking of your words. However, while I was riding, I came across a small caravan and decided to follow them. They led me to a city and just as I was about to leave and inform you of my find, I was called to by those I have brought with me. They…They knew my name. And they know you Khaleesi. How I do not know. But be wary."
Frowning, Dany looked over at the two carriages, which had now come to a stop as the side doors opened while the servants, or perhaps slaves, arranged themselves to aid whoever was about to descend from within. "You did right in bringing them to me, Jhogo," she said, her mind racing as she held her head high while preparing herself, both physically and through the Force, in case things went in an unfortunate direction. "Spread the word to be ready. But no one makes a move until I do."
"As you say, Khaleesi," Jhogo nodded before quickly rising to his feet and moving into the city to spread her words to what remained of her khalasar.
The first man to descend from within was a pale, lean man with a bald head that was perhaps Ser Jorah's age. But the most notable thing Dany noticed about him was his nose. It dominated his face, not just with it's sheer size, but also with the fact that'd been encrusted with rubies, opals, and flakes of other precious metals and gems. She'd seen many who'd shown off their wealth in various ways, but this was perhaps one of the strangest she'd seen.
The next man was…Dany honestly didn't know how to describe him. It was almost as if one had taught a corpse how to walk. The man was almost impossibly thin to the point where she could see his bones pressing against his flesh on his face and hands. He also had long, fine white hair that'd been pulled back and left to hang loosely around his shoulders. And his lips were…blue. Not from the cold as she'd seen before. But almost as if they'd been purposefully colored that way. But despite his emaciated state, the man moved as if he were still a young lad.
The last of the carriage riders descended from the second carriage, and stood in stark contrast to the first two. Firstly, and most obviously because she was a woman. Secondly, because she was wearing a long-hooded robe despite the heat. And lastly because her face was completely covered by a red lacquered mask. Despite the coverings, or perhaps because of them, Dany was able to place the woman for who she was, or rather what she was. A Red Priestess of Asshai. And while she'd never met one in person, she'd seen more than a few during her time with her brother as they fled between the Free Cities to know one on sight.
As the three gathered themselves and formed a line to greet her, Dany was struck by another sensation. This time from the Force. One that spoke of…wariness. Of danger. Though from what she had no idea. Deciding to trust her instincts, she tentatively reached out through the Force towards the three. The man with the jeweled nose was just an ordinary man, albeit ambitious man to the point she probably wouldn't have even needed the Force to notice it. The woman felt…warm. But it was a strange warmth. A kind of warmth that was comforting, but just on the edge between comfort and burning alive. The withered man however, all she could feel from him was cold. The cold of death. Far more death than one should ever feel like. 'Jhogo… Just who have you led to us?'
The tall man with the jeweled nose led the three of them towards her, stopping at a polite distance and bowing from the waist before her. "Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of Valyria. Khaleesi to the former Khal Drogo. It is an honor and privilege to make your acquaintance. I am Xaro Xhoan Daxos, I represent the Thirteen of Qarth, the greatest city there ever was or ever will be. With me is Pyat Pree of the Warlocks of Qarth from the House of the Undying. And the Red Priestess of R'hllor, Quaithe. We have been anxiously awaiting your coming, your highness. And I wish to offer you the hospitality of my home and of Qarth to you and yours."
Had she not already been forewarned by Jhogo, she would have been more than slightly taken aback that they knew about her. And it was still unsettling that they knew not only who she was, but that she was heading their way, she managed to keep that unease at bay as she lowered her head in return. "You honor me with your presence, Master Xaro Xhoan Daxos," she wasn't sure just what title to address the man by as he did not give one, but 'Master' seemed appropriate provided he did not read too much into it. "And greetings to you as well, Master Warlock, Priestess Quaithe. I'm afraid we do not have much to offer. But, please, join me in the shade so we may share water and fruit together."
Smiling, Xaro nodded. "Of course, Khaleesi."
Turning, Dany led the trio to the shaded area that she had taken to calling her own. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her handmaidens had been quick to set up four places to sit, as well as laying out a large blanket across the sand upon which were a few plates of fresh fruit and two jugs of clear water along with several cups. Taking her seat, Dany watched as her three guests arranged themselves across from her. Xaro took only a cup of water, while the Red Priestess waved off the offer of food and drink. The Warlock on the other hand immediately grabbed an entire plate of fruit and a large cup of water and began downing them both like he'd been deprived of food and drink for most of his life.
Picking up a single cup, Dany took a moment to wet her lips, giving her a chance to collect her thoughts before speaking. "I pray you will forgive my curiosity, but I would inquire as to how you know not only of my existence, but that I was coming towards the great city of Qarth."
The warlock chuckled between bites of fruit, their juices running from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. "The eyes of the undead see all, Khaleesi. We knew of your coming across the Red Waste. And more. We know of what you have given birth to. Your children. They call and sing to all who have the ears to hear them louder than any… Louder than even the Sorcerer from the west."
Dany felt her throat constrict. They knew of her son. Of her daughter? Or did they? He did not name her infant son or hatchling daughter. Was he merely fishing for information? Seeking confirmation? Regardless, the answer caught her off guard and she was left unsure of just how to answer him.
"Please forgive Pyat Pree, Khaleesi," Xaro said kindly. "The Warlocks of Qarth are not known for their…subtlety. But their words, when spoken clearly, are not ones to be ignored. It was on his word, and the word of the Priestess Quaithe, that I came to learn of your existence and the existence of your children. My curiosity drove me to seek you out. If you are willing, Khaleesi, perhaps you would be able to satisfy our curiosity. After all, no dragons have been sighted since the last died in Westeros nearly a hundred and fifty years past."
Part of her wanted to deny the request. To order her men to cut down these three immediately. But did she truly have cause to do so? True, they knew of her son and daughter. And while they were the first to openly admit that they knew, and their methods of knowing were not the norm, it would not be long until all of Essos knew. Especially given what she planned on accomplishing by re-establishing the Valyrian Empire. She would need allies to see her ambitions come to fruition. Turning her head, she gave a curt nod to her handmaidens, who did not hesitate before getting to their feet and leaving the area.
She could sense a wave of satisfaction from Xaro, and an almost childlike glee from the warlock. The Priestess however stayed as stoic and calm as she was silent. Which just seemed strange given the company she was in. A light squeak, followed by the shuffling of feet announced the arrival of Doreah. Rhaego was sleeping peacefully in her arms as Droga immediately scampered onto Dany's lap the moment she saw her. Taking her son from her handmaiden, Dany held Rhaego in her right arm while her left hand idly scratched Droga's jaw.
"This is my son, Rhaego, son of Khal Drogo. And this is my daughter, Droga." Dany said, introducing her children to her visitors.
Xaro managed to keep his face impassive, but he could not hide his excitement from her. Pyat was more like a child, nearly bouncing where he sat as his eyes went back and forth between the dragon and the child in her arms. The Priestess however looked…curious. Her head tilted to the side as she stared at Dany's children in wonderment. "They are beautiful beyond measure, my lady Targaryen." Xaro said kindly with a smile on his face a tear forming in the corner of his eye.
"Power…So much power," Pyat said, the withered warlock looking like it was taking all of his power to keep himself in place. "A dragon, after so long… She calls like an oasis in the midst of the Red Wastes. And your son… So young…yet so much potential. He wi–would be a fine addition to the House of the Undying. His power would be unmatched, once trained. Even I would stand no chance against him."
Dany did not care for the looks Pyat was sending her children. Apparently neither did Droga, given the glare and low hiss she sent towards the man. She knew that her children were powerful. She could feel it. And it wasn't just the feelings of love a mother had for her children. She could feel the Force swelling within both Rhaego and Droga. Though what it meant for either, she had no idea. She could only hope that Jon, and Master Nox, might have answers for her the next time she was able to speak with them.
"Perhaps. Yet they are still my children. And they will be raised as befitting their status. A son of Valyria with the blood of the greatest of Khals. And as a dragon." Dany replied, keeping a firm hold on her children.
"Of course, they will, Khaleesi. Despite my associate's excitement, they are your children. And their lots in life are yours to decide, and yours alone." Despite keeping his eyes on her the entire time he spoke, Dany could tell the last part of Xaro's proclamation was directed towards the warlock.
Nodding, Dany gave herself a moment to settle as she shifted Rhaego while Droga curled up in her lap. "I hope that seeing my children has satisfied your curiosity. And perhaps now we might begin talks of the future?"
Xaro spared a glance towards both the warlock and priestess before speaking. "Yes. Our curiosity has been satisfied and then some Khaleesi. So, let us now move to the talks of the future. As is Dothraki culture, a Khaleesi should return and become Dosh Khaleen upon the death of her Khal. Yet you have denied this tradition. Which means you have intentions for the future beyond remaining with the Dothraki. Perhaps reclaiming the Iron Throne of Westeros?"
"That was my brother's dream," Dany nodded. "However, it is not mine. Westeros is the past for me. My ambitions, and the ambitions of my now deceased husband, is to bring back the greatest empire that ever existed."
Xaro frowned, before his eyes went wide in realization. "Valyria. You intend to try and rebuild the Valyrian Empire."
"Yes," Dany replied bluntly. "I am under no delusions that I will be able to complete such a task in my lifetime. Or even in the lifetime of my son. But I can and will start the foundation to restore that which has been lost. And to do so, I need friends and allies. Friends and allies that will find themselves richly rewarded with both coin and status in my Empire. Friends and allies perhaps like yourself, Xaro Xhoan Daxos."
Leaning back, Xaro remained impassive as he thought on her offer. "A tempting offer, Lady Targaryen. Yet you must realize that, even during the height of the Valyrian Empire, Qarth stood on her own. While the Thirteen have power and influence, in the end we are merely merchants. Perhaps you can sway the Thirteen to join with your cause, but then you will need to contend with the Ancient Guild of Spicers and the Tourmaline Brotherhood. And even if you somehow managed to convince all three to work with you in your plans to restore Valyria, the Pureborn, the Enthroned, the noble rulers of Qarth will never allow the greatest city there ever was to be subservient."
Xaro looked off into the distance as if he were giving her proposal serious thought. "It is a risk. A great risk. Many strive to create an empire, or to bring back the days of Valyria. Almost all fail. Yet with you Lady Targaryen, one who has done the impossible by bringing dragons back to our world… You, I believe, have a chance far better than most." Turning attention back to her, Dany kept herself completely impassive as she waited for his decision. "I offer you and yours the sanctuary of my estate, Khaleesi. I will vouch for you to petition the Thirteen and the others. However, convincing them to ally with yourself and your planned restoration of Valyria will be on you."
Dany felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest, only to be replaced with yet another. She now had a chance to gain allies for her goal. The trouble now lay in convincing them to follow her. 'I've crested the hill, yet now stand before a mountain.' "Your hospitality and vouching are appreciated, Master Xaro."
Xaro smiled at her again and inclined his head. "Great rewards often follow great risks, Lady Targaryen. And this venture of yours is great indeed."
Shifting Droga so that her daughter could lay across her shoulders and the back of her neck, Dany easily rose to her feet with Rhaego still in her arms, prompting her three guests to do the same. "We will collect what we have and make ready to follow you and yours back to Qarth, Master Xaro," Dany said to the merchant. "We should be ready to set out well before nightfall."
Smiling once more, Xaro inclined his head and departed along with the warlock, leaving her alone with the Red Priestess. Standing in the woman's presence was an unsettling experience for Dany now that it was just her. The lacquered mask hid any facial expression, and while she could feel a comforting warmth coming from the woman from the Force, that was all she could feel from her. No thought. No emotion. Nothing. The Red Priestess's eyes rested on the dragon on her shoulders and the son in her arms. "Three."
Dany had just been about to turn and leave the woman when the one word, the first word the woman had spoken, reached her ears. "Three?" She asked back.
The woman's head tilted. "A vision in the flames, granted by the Lord of Light showed me three children in your arms. Three children born of fire. Because of this, three eggs were gifted to a merchant so they might reach your hands."
Dany felt her throat constrict as her grip tightened on her son. Her daughter, sensing her distress, perked her head up as a low rumbling hiss hummed through her little body. If she was following this woman's words correctly, then the Red Priests and Priestess had a vision of her well before she ever married Drogo. And they took steps to see their vision fulfilled by allowing the three eggs Illyrio had gifted her at her wedding to leave Asshai in his hands, knowing where they would end up. "The dragon lords of old only ever had a single dragon at a time. And there were reasons for this," Dany answered, trying to be as vague as possible as she did not want to give away some of the secrets of Valyria Jon and Master Nox had imparted to her.
The woman didn't say anything as she just continued to stare at her. "The vision has changed. The work of his champion or his enemy?" The Priestess didn't seem to be talking to Dany, she was just, talking. "A possible fate, your possible fate, has been changed, Daenerys Targaryen. Yet, if it is for the better or worse is yet to be seen." And with that, the Red Priestess turned and walked away, leaving Dany alone with her bloodriders, handmaidens, and Ser Jorah.
"Be wary with her, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah said from her side, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready to bare steel at a moment's notice. "And the warlock. I have yet to hear a single kind word said about the warlocks of Qarth. And the Red Priestess serve only one master and have their own goals."
"I know," Dany responded. "But to see my goals fulfilled, I will need allies. Some of whom will not be of the most noble of sort. They will try and use me. Just as much as I try and use them. The trick will be staying one step ahead of them." Switching to Dothraki, she addressed her khalasar, "Collect everything of value that we have brought with us or that we found while here. We set out for Qarth before the sun sets."
Ned was able to smell King's Landing well before they arrived. The festering stench of over half a million people living practically on top of one another without adequate drainage created the pungent smell that the capital city of Westeros was unfortunately so well known for. And while it was clear that many were used to the smell, those who were accompanying him, namely his daughters, ward Jayne, and the Lady Nyra Nox clearly were not. Nyra, insisting on riding next to Ned as they passed through the gates into the city of King's Landing, managed to keep a straight face, but Ned could tell that she was just barely holding it together. Between the masses that'd come to either see the return of their King, or more accurately to beg from the passing nobles, and the stench of the city, it was fair to say that Lady Nox did not have a favorable first impression of the city.
As they progressed up the roads towards the Red Keep, the number of smallfolk lining the streets grew larger and larger until Ned was sure that nearly half the city had turned out to welcome the King home. Robert, for his part, seemed to be in his element. For all the faults he knew that his brother-by-choice had, he had an almost uncanny ability to turn enemies into friends and garner the love of the smallfolk. Cheers for the King swept through the streets as Robert raised his hand, waving to the crowd as he rode, pausing every now and then to perhaps toss a few coins out to the crowd or throw a smile and a wink towards a beautiful woman.
"Lord Stark," Nyra said, bringing her mare up beside him. "Perhaps now would be a fine time to start with what we discussed?"
After watching Robert toss a few more coins to the smallfolk, an act that was soon followed by Renly as the youngest brother to the King actually got off his horse to interact with the people, Ned nodded. He turned back towards the carriage carrying his daughters, as both of his sons were returning to Winterfell with Nox. Catching Ser Jory's eye, Ned motioned for the captain of his guard to approach. "Slow the procession and stand ready. Bring my daughters out and give them each one bag to hand out.
Nodding, Jory made his way back and relayed Ned's orders to the rest of the Northern procession. His daughters, ever eager to see new sights, nearly jumped out of the carriage as soon as it was safe to do so. Arya was bounding about with excitement as she looked around in wonder. Whereas Sansa stepped down with only a touch more dignity but who was clearly excited at being in King's Landing.
Slowing her own mare, Lady Nyra gracefully slid down from her saddle, pulling a small bag from her saddle bags just as similar ones were being handed over to his daughters and Jeyne Poole. Ser Loras had been true to his word, and after the Reach knight had been awarded the winner's purse, he immediately sent half of it to House Stark to be used however they deemed fit. At fifteen-thousand dragons worth of coins and jewels, it certainly was no small amount even for a Great House of Westeros. Though considering it was half of the winner's purse, Ned was starting to dread learning the full impact the tournament had on the crown's coffers. But, alas, Ned had decided that he would put the coin to good use. Together with Nyra, the two had spent nearly the entire trip from Harrenhal to King's Landing discussing the best ways in which to use the coin. The first was what they were doing now, giving coin to the people of King's Landing to garner the favor of the smallfolk.
Taking his own bag, Ned kept half an eye on his daughters, who were approaching the sides of the road where the smallfolk who'd realized what was about to happen were eagerly gathering. Pulling a few coins, a mixture of silver and a few gold, Ned began absentmindedly handing the coins out to whoever he saw first.
Robert, realizing that Ned and the others had slowed, called out for the rest of the procession to match their pace. Though his orders seemed to have been ignored by the monstrosity of a carriage that Ned knew carried the Queen and the royal children. Instead of slowing, the carriage almost seemed to have sped up, forcing smallfolk and goldcloaks out of its path as it made its way towards the Red Keep.
Shaking his head, Ned emptied the last of his purse into the hands of a father and mother, who had three small children hanging off their legs and were dressed in little more than rags, making his way towards his daughters. Arya, ever the impatient one, had already emptied her purse and was now looking as if she were both bored and more than a little overwhelmed as more and more smallfolk asked her for coin, which she had to deny as she'd already given out all that she had.
Sansa, on the other hand, was seemingly in her element. Sansa was smiling, focusing on handing her few coins to children and then their families if any were present. She gave encouraging words to those who needed it. Hugged children and held the hands of their mothers. In all, she was the picture of a perfect noble Lady. 'You would be proud of our daughter, Cat,' Ned thought sadly as he watched his daughter, the spitting image of her mother, give a young boy her last coin, followed by a hug and a light kiss on his forehead before backing away due to her purse now being empty.
With them slowing to hand out coins to the denizens of King's Landing, their procession up to the Red Keep slowed to a near halt and as a result those of the North were the last to enter the inner walls leading to the Red Keep. Once they were inside, Ned turned towards Jory. "See to it that my daughters and the rest of our House find their lodgings within the Tower of the Hand," he commanded to his captain before turning towards Lady Nyra. "Lady Nyra, we have a Small Council meeting waiting for us."
Nodding, Nyra fell in step with him as the two headed into the debths of the Red Keep while his family and House made their way towards the Tower of the Hand. Little had changed in the few years since he'd been in the Red Keep, and he could only thank the gods that the reasoning for him being here this time was not the same as the previous two times he'd been forced to come south. The first to overthrow the Mad King. And the second to purge the Order of the Guiding Hand from the ranks of the Maesters. He could only pray to the old gods that things would continue to stay calm for the duration of his time as Hand of the King. But a nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him that such thoughts were nothing more than a fool's errand. And this time, he was without Winter and Nox. At least for the time being. 'Nox will return once his curiosity is sated. And as for Winter…while I would've preferred her here by my side, she would not have fared well so far away from the cold of the north and the woods she calls home.'
Arriving at the corridor leading to the Small Council chambers, Ned was pleasantly surprised to find two of the Kingsguard standing watch outside the doors. Which meant that not only was Robert in attendance, he had also beaten them here. Giving the two men a nod of acknowledgement, as he couldn't think of their names off the top of his head, Ned walked past them and opened the doors to the Small Council. "Ned! About time you and the sorcerer's woman made your way here."
Allowing Nyra to walk in first, Ned allowed the doors to close behind him as he stepped further into the Small Council chambers. The table that dominated the center of the room was already almost completely full with Robert sitting at the head of the table with a stoic Ser Barristan standing behind him. To the king's left sat a large man, larger than even Wyman, who had several long lengths of chains around his neck and shoulders which served to name him as the new Grand Maester. Petyr Baelish was sitting next to the Maester, writing away in his ledger that held the crown's finances. The next seat down was occupied by Varys, who was sitting as far away from the King as he could without occupying the seat directly opposite the King that was reserved for the Hand of the King. On the other side of the table, only one of the three seats were filled, and that was the seat that was closest to the King, which had been claimed by Renly.
"Apologies, your grace," Ned said, speaking for both himself and Nyra. "I had not anticipated that our actions on the path to the Red Keep would delay us so. And I wanted to make sure my daughters and house was situated as w—"
"Enough apologies, Ned," Robert cut in, motioning towards the seat opposite him. "Take your seat, Ned. And…Lady Nox. Take whichever seat you wish."
Nodding, Ned took his place in the chair directly across from the King, while Nyra took the empty seat that was directly on Ned's right. "Before we begin, Lord Hand, this belongs to you." Glancing towards the Grand Maester, Ned saw that the man was holding out a golden pin in the shape of hand.
Reaching across the table, Nyra took the pin from the Maester before turning and presenting the golden hand to Ned. Despite being so small, Ned felt like he was holding the weight of all of Westeros in his hand when he took the pin from Nyra and stuck it to the chest of his doublet. "My thanks, Grand Maester. Though yours is the only face here I do not recognize."
"This here is Jeorge… Perhaps the only man fatter than the King in all of King's Landing," Robert gaffed, chuckling at his own joke. "And I know that the Maesters have not yet earned the North's forgiveness. Hells, they haven't even truly earned my own. But the man knows his duties and gives decent advice. Now, we all know each other. So, let's get started."
"Forgive me, your grace," Nyra said politely, inclining her head towards the vacant seat. "But what about Lord Stannis? Or the proxy that he designated to fill his seat? Will they not be joining us?"
At this, Robert growled. "No. My stick-up-his-ass brother is still holed up on Dragonstone with no explanation as for what he is doing or how long his stay will be. He has yet to designate someone to take his position till he returns. The vessel Shireen will be taking leaves at first light. Should she be unable to find out what is going on with Stannis, or if we don't hear from either within a fortnight of her leaving…then I will appoint a new Master of Ships to the Small Council."
"Replace him?" Renly repeated, seemingly not believing what he'd just heard. "He's our bro—"
"I know," Robert replied, shooting his youngest brother a look that shut him up. "Which makes his absence and silence even more inexcusable. And had our positions been reversed in this matter, he would've already dismissed either of us or replaced us with someone else. I've been more than lenient with him. It's time for him to return to his duties. And if he cannot, or will not, then I will find someone who will."
"My birds have sung a song during the tournament that might explain Lord Stannis's silence, your grace." Varys spoke up, the bald man completely calm. "It seems that Lord Stannis has recently received a visitor. A Red Priestess of Asshai. While she arrived well before your brother's silence, her role was limited to just a visiting priest or priestess. Though the last whispers I had from the island spoke of Lord Stannis elevating her to an advisory position."
"A Red Priestess…I've heard tales of them. None of them good." Petyr commented while keeping his eyes down at his ledger. "'Witches' is the kindest of terms I've heard of from those who speak of them. But perhaps our temporary 'Mistress of the Arcane' would be far better suited to inform us of what kind of threat this woman possesses?"
It was a challenge. A subtle one but a challenge, nonetheless. And while part of him wanted to go to her defense, Ned knew that Nyra needed to do this herself. She needed to prove that she was here for a reason. That Nox hadn't just chosen her to sit in his seat because she was his wife.
"The Red Priests and Priestess follow the god known as R'hllor, or the Lord of Light. They come from the lands of Asshai and are perhaps one of the most prominent religions across Essos. There are a lot of rumors as to what they can do in terms of magical abilities. Accounts vary widely depending on who you talk with and where. But one thing that stays consistent is the source of their power. They draw their power from this R'hllor and are taught how to do a few spells, mostly illusions, and how to see the future. Though the latter of which is unreliable at best and outright dangerously open to interpretation at worst. A few of the higher levels of the faithful are also what are known as Shadowbinders, which means they can manipulate shadows in animate beings or objects. And perhaps most disturbing off all, is the fact that the followers of the Red God are well known to practice sacrificial offerings to their god in hopes of gaining more power. Whether valuable items, blood, livestock, even people, the more valuable the item being sacrificed, the greater the return of power. At least that's what they believe."
Robert did not necessarily look pleased. "Is it possible this…Red Priestess has done something to my brother to control him?"
Nyra frowned. "Doubtful. At least nothing magically oriented. Even if this Red Priestess had the ability to bewitch an individual's mind, using magic to control a mind as strong as Lord Stannis's would take considerable effort. Both at the onset of the spell and to maintain it. No. It's more than likely that this Red Priestess used her words and actions to work her way into Lord Stannis's confidence. Either way Shireen will be back on Dragonstone within the week and she will be able to ascertain this Priestess's hold on Stannis. And a single Red Priestess, unless she is a very, very high-ranking Priestess, which is unlikely as they hardly ever leave the Shadowlands, would be no match for Shireen if it comes to a struggle between the two."
"Even if so, I don't like letting my niece go into such a situation blind," Robert growled, pointing to first Nyra, then the Grand Maester, and lastly Varys. "You three will spend the night after this meeting with Shireen. Tell her everything you lot know about these Red Priestess and how to deal with them."
"Of course, your grace," Nyra nodded.
Nodding along, Robert turned his attention back to Varys. "Varys. Before Harrenhal your little birds told you of the demise of Viserys Targaryen. What's been happening with Daenerys and the khalasaar since his death?"
"A fair amount has indeed happened since you left, your grace," Varys responded, his voice and face still completely devoid of any emotion. "It seems that shortly after her brother's death, Daenerys suffered an assassination attempt. Though not one from us, your grace. And unfortunately I have not been able to ascertain just who wished her dead."
Ned felt a pain in his chest at the idea that the young girl who'd suffered so much was now dead. He might not have cared for her brother or father. But he never let that hatred go past those who hadn't earned his scorn. "So, the girl is dead then?" Robert asked.
Varys shook his head in reply. "No, your grace. The assassin failed. But Khal Drogo became enraged at the attempt on his wife. Perhaps in an effort to cool his blood, he led his Khalassar out to raid the local villages. The details of what happened are not entirely clear. Apparently during one such raid, Daenerys took ownership of the women of the village before the Dothraki could use them as they saw fit. The Khal, apparently impressed with her strength, agreed. Though this angered a great many within his own ranks. One of whom challenged the Khal to single combat. He lost. But he did manage to inflict a wound on Khal Drogo. One that festered and brought the great Khal to his deathbed."
Leaning back, Ned quickly worked through what'd been said. "So, the last of the Targaryens is now without a brother or her husband," he stated, to which Varys nodded. "Where is she now?"
"Normally, when a Khal dies his Khaleesi is forced back to Vaes Dothrak to become a 'wise woman' of sorts. However, before that could happen, Daenerys Targaryen, her freshly born son, and the few who would still follow her disappeared into the Red Wastes. And no one has seen nor heard from her since. Even our own spy who was with her has gone silent."
"So, the last of the Targaryens and her newborn have been lost to the sands of the Red Wastes," Ned surmised, turning his attention from Varys to Robert, asking his friend and King a question without having to give it voice.
Drumming his fingers on the surface of the table, Robert met his gaze briefly before turning away and staring out the nearby window. "Let her go," he said with a heavy voice, as if they were the hardest words he had ever had to say in his life. "We have more than enough issues here to deal with. We need not waste any more coin or time chasing after a single girl and her newborn child. And speaking of…Baelish… Time to count your fucking coppers. How much damage did the tournament do to the crown's coffers?"
Frowning, Baelish flipped through a few pages in his ledger before settling on one page in particular. "Lady Shella Whent was kind enough to cover a good portion of the cost for the tourney, as was to be expected given that it was being held on her lands. The cost of food was graciously covered by House Tyrell and part of the winner's purse was additionally covered by House Stark. However, as the crown was covering the winner's and runner up's purse for each event beyond what House Stark provided, each of which was a considerable sum… We did add nearly two-hundred and fifty thousand to the crown's debt. The coin was split between House Lannister and the Iron Bank."
"Two-hundred thousand to the Iron Bank, and another fifty thousand to House Lannister," Ned repeated flatly, staring across the table at Robert, who purposefully did not meet his eyes. "And what is the total debt that the crown owes?"
Petyr flipped back to the previous page. "In total, the crown owes 4 million to the Iron Bank. Another one-hundred thousand to the Faith. And three-hundred thousand to House Lannister. We do have a payment schedule with the Iron Bank and have reduced that debt significantly in the last year. I was able to prevent adding too much more debt to the Iron Bank by taking a fair bit of coin that had been allocated for other projects… Unfortunately, that includes the cost of renovating the Dragon Pit."
"That will not be an issue," Nyra cut in almost immediately. "Between Lord Stark, my Lord Husband, and myself we have come up with a way to renovate the Dragon's Pit and perhaps even start doing something regarding the stench of the city without adding much to the crown's debt."
"How?" Robert asked, his gaze meeting Ned's briefly before bouncing towards Nyra.
"Ser Loras was good on his word," Nyra replied. "After being crowned champion of the tournament, he gave half of the winner's purse to House Stark to do with as Lord Stark pleased."
"I had my son take a small amount back to Winterfell to distribute as needed," Ned continued for Nyra. "The rest of the coin I brought here to King's Landing with the intention of using it to hire the workers and even begin purchasing the materials needed to renovate the Dragon's Pit. And while the amount will not be enough to pay for the complete restoration of the Dragon's Pit, it will last for perhaps throughout the first nine months to a year of the work."
"And the Dragon's Pit is not the only place that Lord Stark and I discussed using the coin," Nyra continued. "I went over the numbers required multiple times, and we should be able to spare enough coin to pay for nearly two hundred additional workers within King's Landing to begin the task of cleaning and removing any blockages in the sewers and cisterns throughout the city." The members of the Small Council all looked at one another curiously, only the new Grand Maester seemed to find interest in the idea.
"You really expect people to go down into the sewers to clean up shit and piss?" Renly asked, the younger man clearly aghast at the mere idea of it.
"Yes," Nyra answered simply. "Forgive me for saying, your grace, but this city smells terrible. You can smell it from even a mile away. And, unfortunately, that is not a joke. While cleaning the sewers and cisterns may not completely get rid of the smell of the city, it is a start at the very least."
"And how much are you expecting to pay the smallfolk to wade through shit and piss?" Baelish asked, shaking his head. "I doubt that you will find many who would be willing to do so without promising a king's ransom for their efforts."