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Sitting on her bed within the manse of Magister Illyrio Mopatis, Daenerys Targaryen took her time in composing herself as she readied herself for what she was about to do. It had only been but a few days since her and her brother had arrived in Pentos, and less than half that since they reached the manse of Magister Mopatis, but already the troubles of her past seemed like a lifetime ago as they were quickly replaced with new troubles.
Upon arriving at the magister's manse, Dany and her brother were received with open arms by the Magister, who had sworn his fealty to the one he called the 'One True King' of Westeros. While her brother immediately embraced the man and promised him that he would be rewarded once he reclaimed his throne, Dany was skeptical. If this man truly wished to aid them, why had he waited for so long to offer them shelter? Why now and not back when the Usurper's reign was still young and weak? And his motivations aside, there was something about the Magister that just didn't feel right to Dany. The man had once been a sellsword who'd later made his fortune trading cheese, spices, and slaves. Even though slavery was against the law in Pentos, one need only to look around Illyrio's manner at the silent guards and marked servants to know that the vile practice was a live and well within the city. And for that one fact alone, the man had drawn Dany's suspicion. A suspicion which only grew as the man and her brother were constantly in talks with one another. Talks that would cease the moment she entered the room.
Rising from her bed, Dany tilted her head up slightly and closed her eyes as the light of the morning sun filtered into her room and rested on her face. 'There is no try. No room for failure. I can do this. I will do this.'
Hearing her door creak open, Dany opened her eyes and turned her head just in time to watch the young woman Illyrio had assigned to her as a handmaiden, Dorea, walked in. "Mistress Daenerys," Dorea greeted, dropping her eyes almost immediately and shuffling herself back towards the wall to give her as much room as possible.
"Good morning, Dorea," Dany greeted the woman back, giving her a small smile, one which the woman returned with one of her own.
After being assigned to serve as her handmaiden, Dany had done all she could for the woman. Which unfortunately wasn't much as, even though she was servicing Dany, her 'debt' was still owned by Illyrio. A debt that was acquired after Illyrio had purchased her from a pleasure house in Lys. A fact which was well known throughout the manor and was taken advantage of by more than one visitor, her brother included. Walking up close to the former-pleasure slave, Dany immediately noticed the light marks across her pale skin. Marks on her neck and arms. Marks that would be almost unnoticeable given the way Dorea had arranged her clothes and hair this morning unless you were looking for them. 'Not marks…bruises.'
Stepping closer to Dorea, Dany reached out quickly and pushed her hair aside before she could pull away, her fingers passing gently over the black marks on Dorea's skin. "My brother's appreciation," she stated rather than asked, letting her hand fall to her side.
Dorea blanched and trembled slightly. "It is nothing, Mistress. It is an honor to be able to service one such as your honorable brother."
Even though Dany was still a maiden, she wasn't wholly innocent in the ways of men and women. Not after she'd had to sit outside a brothel as her brother entertained himself with what little coin they had. And especially not after she'd inadvertently seen a bit of Jon's…interaction with a dark-haired woman and a red-haired woman. Just the thought of which was still enough to draw heat to her face and leave her stammering.
"Horse shit," Dany countered, drawing a quick look from the woman. "I know exactly who and what my brother is. Now, tell me truthfully. If you had the choice, would you share his bed again. And know that I will find no anger in your answer."
Dorea was clearly struggling as she tried to avoid answering her. But that in and of itself was all the answer that Dany needed. "Then he shall not touch you again, nor shall anyone else unless you wish it to be so."
A look of hope spread across Dorea's face, only to immediately disappear as the woman shook her head. "Forgive me, mistress. But I know what I am. I thank you for your care, mistress. But you need not concern yourself with me."
"I know who you are as well," Dany countered, making Dorea blink. "You are who you wish to be. Not what others force you to be. And I'm going to prove that to you right now."
Sweeping past Dorea, Dany left the woman hurrying to catch up with her as she made a brisk pace through the halls of the manse. Keeping her head high, Dany ignored the various servants and guards she passed as she made her way towards where she knew Illyrio's solar was located. It was a gamble that he would be there. But given the time of day, it was a fair assumption. And even if he wasn't she was sure that she would be able to locate him quickly enough. Sure enough, as she and Dorea made her way towards Illyrio's chambers, she spotted two of the silent guards standing watch outside. The two guards didn't say a word as she approached, and neither made a move to stop her as she raised her hand and rasped her knuckles against the door.
"Who is it?" she could hear Illyrio's muffled voice come from within.
'There is no try, Dany. Only do. Do not even invite the thought of failure to enter your mind,' she thought to herself as she straightened her shoulders and answered. "Princess Daenerys Targaryen, Magister Illyrio. I wish to have words if you have the time."
Dany could distinctly hear the rustling of parchment and the sounds of something heavy being moved hurriedly coming from within the Magister's solar. "Please come in, Princess!"
Pushing open the door, Dany quickly passed her eyes over the room. Magister Illyrio was standing tall behind his desk, his golden beard seemingly freshly oiled. His desk was a mess of parchment and books that looked to have been just thrown upon its surface without care. 'He's hiding something, but what?' she realized before banishing the thought and giving the man a warm smile. "Thank you for seeing me, Magister Illyrio."
"No trouble at all, Princess," Illyrio responded, smile nearly splitting his face in two as he motioned for her to take a seat. "I am at your disposal, Princess. Please, take a seat and tell me what I can do for you."
Taking the offered seat, Dany purposefully tried to make herself appear nervous and unsure of herself. A trick she'd learned from Jon: appear weak, and people would always underestimate you. "I–I just wanted to thank you Magister, personally, for your generosity. Not many are willing to even speak to my brother and I, let alone give us shelter, for fear of the Usurper's wrath catching up with us."
Illyrio smiled warmly at Dany as he made his way around his desk, taking care not to catch his protruding stomach as he did. "You have no need to fear the Usurper's reach here, your grace. His reach may be far, but he has limits. I swore to you and your brother the day you arrived that I would do my all to see the Targaryens restored to the Iron Throne through any means necessary. And I intend to hold true to that oath, your grace."
"And you have the thanks of House Targaryen for your loyalty, Magister Illyrio," Dany responded almost without thought. There was something…off about the way he'd phrased his promise. But she couldn't figure out just why it sounded so strange. Nor why he felt…different when he'd said it. "There is…another matter I wish to discuss with you, Magister. Though, I don't feel right asking this of you considering all you have done for my brother and I."
"Nonsense, your grace," Illyrio smiled, motioning her to continue. "Whatever you need will be provided to you, your grace. Within reason, of course."
"Of course," Dany nodded, her eyes flickering back towards Dorea just enough so that Illyrio could catch it. "I wanted to thank you for offering Dorea's service to me. She has been a true gift. But I had a thought that…as a Princess, I have need of handmaidens…and I would like Dorea to fill the first of such roles."
As she spoke, Dany crossed her arms and folded them in her lap. An act that might seem normal to some, but for her the act was anything but. As her hands moved, she pushed out with gentle waves of the Force, lightly touching on the mind of Illyrio just as she had done numerous times before this to make sure others did not bother her, or to calm her brother.
The effect on Illyrio was almost immediate as his eyes glossed over briefly before he began nodding enthusiastically. "A sound thought, Princess. A handmaiden is indeed necessary for a Princess like yourself. Woman, consider yourself from this day forward Princess Daenerys Targaryen's handmaiden."
'Now for the last touch.' "Thank you, Magister Illyrio, for your generosity," Dany replied diminutively while subtly moving her hand once more, sending another light touch against the man's mind. "But there is one more thing. I've heard talk of the servants of Pentos acquiring debts to those they serve, and I'm sure that she has such a debt owed to you. I would have her debt given to me, to ensure that her loyalty is not divided. And I would have it be known that she is under my protection, and that any untoward action taken against her will be considered an act against myself."
Illyrio's eyes went vacant once more as he nodded before moving to a set of drawers and opening them, searching through the piles of scrolls within before pulling out a single small scroll and presenting it to her. While the practice of slavery might be outlawed in Pentos by order of Braavos, the Magisters had devised a way to thumb their nose at the law and keep the vile practice under a different name. Forced servitude through debt.
"This is Dorea's debt that she owes," Illyrio explained as Dany unfurled the scroll and looked over the numbers on the page. The totality of the debt was…ridiculous. Even if Dorea was of a highborn noble or a merchant of substantial wealth, she could never hope to pay the debt off. "With that in hand, she is yours and yours alone. And I will send word amongst the staff that any act taken against her will be considered an act against yourself, Princess."
Rising to her feet, Dany rolled the scroll back up and held it tightly in her hands. "You have my thanks, Magister. Your generosity will not be forgotten, I assure you."
Illyrio merely spread his arms and bowed slightly. "I live to serve the return of the dragons to the Iron Throne, Princess."
Nodding, Dany turned on her heel and swiftly walked out of the room with Dorea once again scrambling to keep up with her. Neither spoke a single word until they reached the safety of Dany's room once more and shut themselves in. Using her powers to make sure that there were no unwanted ears, something she'd learn to do frequently after sensing a spy hiding in her walls on her first night, Dany unfurled the scroll and stared down at the contents.
"A single piece of parchment is all it takes to own another," Dany muttered in disgust as she glanced towards a fidgeting Dorea, who was staring at her with a mixture of bewilderment, uncertainty, and a slight touch of fear of the unknown.
Walking over to the small desk in her room, Dany used the flint and striker that she'd been provided to light the wick of a candle. Once the flame had caught and was able to hold on its own, she brought the scroll up to it and set the accursed parchment alight. "I will never own another," she said, glancing towards Dorea, who was staring at her in awe as she watched the parchment burn.
Curiously, despite feeling the warmth of the flame nearing her hand, she felt no pain. Even as the flames grew to within a finger width of her hand, she felt nothing but a warm comfort at having the fire so close to her. Just before the flames could reach her flesh, she set the parchment down on the silver tray on the small desk and watched as the flames devoured it till it was nothing more than ash. "Your life, Dorea, is your own. Should you wish to stay with me, I would have you, and I will shelter and protect you as best I can. Should you desire to find your own way in life, I will respect your decision and will even help you find a way to a new life away from the cruelty of the slave masters and the magisters. But make no mistake, the choice is yours, Dorea."
The woman looked near to tears as she almost immediately went to her knees before Dany. "I will serve you, my lady – Princess Daenerys Targaryen. From this day till my last. I am yours. Not…Not because you bought me or set me free…but because I choose to do so."
Smiling, Dany reached down and took Dorea's hands in her own. "And I promise you, Dorea, that as long as I breathe you will always have a place by my side and that I will ask of you no deed that I am unwilling to do myself." The oath was not one that was common in Essos. She blamed Jon's influence. "And, on that topic, I fear that I already must ask something of you."
"Name it, Princess."
Looking around her room, Dany lowered her voice as she spoke her request. Not that she was overly concerned with spies, but she'd learned over her life that caution often saved one's life. "I need to leave the manse and make my way through the city… Preferably without any eyes following that would tell my brother or the Magister where I am going."
Dorea's eyes widened, and a slight grin came upon her face. "I can do that, Princess."
Later that evening, with Dany wearing a shawl over her head and across her face to hide her features, the two made their way out of the manse through one of the servant doors and into the city of Pentos. A not so small part of her wondered about just how wise her current course of action was, especially as she noted the looks her and Dorea were garnering from some of the men, and even women, as they traversed the streets of Pentos. But this was something that she needed to do. Plus, she trusted that Jon would not have led her purposefully astray.
It wasn't overly difficult to find the manse that Jon had suggested she visit when she'd told him that her and her brother were heading to Pentos. Though when he told her just who called the manse home…well, it did take a bit for Jon to even convince her to visit. But he'd promised that it would be worth her while, and that she would learn more during her visits to the manse than she could during their brief encounters in the strange world they called their own in the land of dreams.
Finding the manse on the outskirts of Pentos, a manse that was easily equal in size to Illyrio's, Dany hesitated for only a moment before approaching what she recognized as a pair of Unsullied guards standing watch next to the main entryway. Lowering her shawl enough to show her face, Dany addressed the two guards, hoping that they both understood the Westerosi tongue. "I am Daenerys of House Targaryen. And I believe that I am expected by the magister of this manse."
The two guards said nothing to one another, just a mere passing glance towards the other before one turned and walked through the open gate. Once through, the man paused only long enough to motion for her to follow before turning his head and continuing into the yard of the manse. Seeing no other option and not about to leave as she wanted to learn just why Jon had told her to come to this place, Dany masked her emotions and held her head high with her face exposed and followed the silent guard into the manse. Not a word was spoken as the guard led her around to the back field behind the manse where she noticed a small pavilion had been erected in the middle of a garden. The garden itself was beautiful, full of bushes and flowers. But it was the small tree in the center of the field that truly drew her attention. A tree with red leaves and a white trunk. A tree that she recognized. And one that she knew was certainly not native to Essos.
The guard stopped and motioned towards the rotunda in the middle of the garden. Looking at the structure, she could clearly see two individuals sitting in the shade provided. But as she walked past the guard, one of the individuals, a woman if she had to guess based on her curves, quickly vacated her seat and left the garden in such a hurry that Dany couldn't make out anything about the woman besides the fact that she was a woman.
Putting the occurrence out of her mind, Dany kept her head up as she approached the rotunda and the man, who was now on his feet, that was within. Approaching, Dany quickly looked the man over. He was clearly not of Pentos, nor even Essos as she'd been around the land enough to tell. Which meant only one thing. This man was a man of Westeros. His dark hair was pulled back into a simple knot behind his head and his skin was pale. But it was his eyes that were the true telling of his heritage. Eyes that were beyond pale, almost white in coloring. Eyes unlike any she had ever seen. And from what she knew during her brief conversations with Jon regarding the recent going's on in Westeros, she knew exactly who this man before her was. "Lord Domeric Bolton."
The man gave her a smile, which amazingly actually lightened his face ever so slightly. "I am no longer a 'Lord', Princess. My father's ambition, cruelty, and stupidity saw to that."
Dany could sympathize with the man, at least now that she knew the truth of her family. Or rather her father. "Something that we both share, Domeric Bolton. And as such, you may refer to me as Daenerys while we are alone."
The man gave her a slight bow, "As you wish. Would you care for a cup of tea while we talk, Daenerys? I never really cared for the drink while I was in Westeros. But now I've come to realize that what passes for tea in Westeros is little more than horse piss. Whereas this tea comes straight from Yi Ti. One of the few indulgences I allow for myself."
Dany's mouth watered at the thought of the tea. She hadn't had a good cup since her and her brother's brief stay in Norvos. And tea from Yi Ti was by far the best there was! "A cup would be much appreciated, Domeric," she said, taking the invitation and walking into the pavilion with Dorea right behind her.
To Dany's surprise, instead of insisting that her handmaiden move away, Domeric insisted that she take a seat at the table with them and even poured Dorea her own cup. "I must say, Daenerys," Domeric said after he'd finished pouring a cup for the two women. "That sitting down and having a cup of tea and a conversation with a Targaryen was certainly not one of the things I expected to have happen in my life. But then again, I never expected to have been exiled from my homeland either."
Blowing on the hot liquid, Dany slowly sipped at the brew, savoring the taste on her tongue as she did. Gods only knew when she would be able to drink tea of this quality again. "Exile or no, you seem to have done quite well for yourself here in Pentos."
Domeric nodded. "Aye, I have, Daenerys. But that is mostly because Northerners prefer to do business with one of their own, even an exile like myself. And I've been able to take advantage of that fact. But I doubt that you have come here today with the intent of discussing my business. Though I must admit to my surprise at you being here. I was sure that it would take you several more days before you made your way to me."
Dany eyed Domeric wearily over the rim of her cup, while beside her she could see Dorea shifting herself uneasily. "And why are you so certain that I would come to you eventually?"
Domeric just smiled. "More than likely through similar means as how you ended up coming to me. Though I do wonder if our interaction was originated by the same source."
'Is it possible that Jon told him I was coming? No. There would be no time to send word…and Jon told me that the connection that we have between us would not work beyond the two of us. So how did Domeric know that I would be coming to him eventually?' "I see," she said simply, setting her cup down. "Then let us be candid with one another. I was led to believe that you can help me with my own studies in matters of the Force, can you or can you not?"
She could feel Dorea's questioning gaze on her, but Dany would explain everything to her later. After she was done with whatever it was she was here for. Domeric didn't bat an eye as he stared at her. His gaze was…unnerving. "You know quite a bit more than I thought you would Daenerys. Unfortunately, I cannot help you with your studies in the Force as I have little to no affinity for the art. However, I can help you by placing you in direct contact with one who can. And I can do so in such a manner that you won't even need to leave my manse. There are two stipulations though. The first being that the means to make this contact must remain a secret, even from your brother and Magister Illyrio. And the second is that the means must remain here with me, as they are vital for my role here in Essos."
The demands were not unreasonable. To be honest, if it meant learning more about her powers beyond what Jon had taught her so far, well she would've agreed to far more demands than just those two. But just as she was about to give her consent, something he'd said caught her attention. "And pray tell, what is your role here in Essos Domeric?"
Domeric's face gave away nothing as he sipped his tea dry. "I fear we do not know each other that well, Princess."
Dany conceded the point. "Very well then, Domeric. Your secrets are your own. I will agree to your requests if it means you can provide me with the means to continue my learnings."
"Then we are agreed," Domeric nodded, setting down his cup and getting to his feet. "If you will please follow me, Daenerys. Your handmaiden can come along as well. But for secrecy's sake, and for her own safety, she will need to wait outside the room you will be training in."
Nodding, Dany set her own cup down and gathered herself to follow after Domeric with Dorea following a step behind her and one step to the left. As they walked into the manse proper, Dany couldn't help but notice a few more of the Unsullied guards, and more than a few marked servants. 'Slaves,' Dany nearly spat, though she didn't want to raise the matter with Domeric seeing as how, at least now, he had something that she needed. 'And here I was thinking that those of Westeros truly opposed if not outright despised the practice.'
"I can feel your eyes and your distaste, Daenerys, regarding those who I have taken under my care," Domeric said, surprising her as she'd thought she kept her feelings masked well enough to avoid suspicion. "I assure you, Daenerys, my hatred for the vile slave trade is as true as any man of the North. There is not a single slave in this manse, nor is there any that is beholden to any debt. Every man and woman here receive their fair share for the work they do. And they are all here of their own volition."
"I see," Dany responded, feeling the slightest bit of shame at having to jump to such a conclusion so quickly, "I apologize for my improper thoughts regarding your honor then, Domeric."
"No need, Daenerys," Domeric replied as he led them into what looked like a small library. "Given my family history, I am used to being looked upon with suspicion and scorn. But that is a tale for another time. For now, here we are."
Walking over to one of the shelves, Domeric removed two large books before touching something on the shelf that was being hidden behind the books. Hearing something click, Dany watched in mild amazement as Domeric replaced the books before pulling on the shelf, which easily swung open as if it were a door and not a shelf. "Your companion will have to stay here for now," Domeric said, grabbing a candle and lighting the wick.
Looking back at Dorea, Dany gave her a nod for the former bed slave to stay put before following Domeric into the darkened hidden corridor. Once she was inside, Domeric pulled the shelf closed behind her, leaving the two alone in a dark stairwell with nothing more than a candle to light their path. Holding the candle, Domeric led her down a short flight of stairs and into what looked like a large room, though it was difficult to tell as there was no light beyond the candle. Setting the candle aside, Domeric began pulling on something on the wall nearest to them. To her further amazement, a panel in the ceiling opened, revealing the sunlight. But that wasn't all. The light reflected itself off what looked like a mirror, and in doing so brightened the entire room to the point where she could see everything within. The room was…surprisingly sparse. There was only one thing in the entire room. An altar of sorts in the very center of the room with…some sort of…candle made from glass.
"This here is a relic of Old Valyria," Domeric stated, walking towards the candle, and motioning for her to join them. "And it is how I knew to expect your coming."
Feeling excited at being able to interact with something from the Dragon Lords of old, Dany slowly approached the candle. And with each step she took, she could feel an almost…pull to the candle. Like it wanted her to come closer to it. "What does it do?" she asked once she was within arm's reach of it.
"Honestly, I cannot say for sure," he answered, "I can tell you some of what it does…but I do not know if what it is currently being used for was its original purpose, or if someone more skilled than even the Valyrians altered it before giving it to me to use."
"And how does one use this…candle?" she asked, her excitement building.
"Well, I've never been able to get it to work myself as I unfortunately do not have the gift required to use it fully," Domeric stated. "But from what I've been told, you need to…reach out and touch it with the Force. I'm sure you know what that means and how to do exactly that."
Nodding her understanding, Dany closed her eyes and centered herself, pulling on the well of power she felt within her as she raised her hand and pushed her power out through her hand and into the glass candle. Almost immediately, she felt something from within the glass latch onto her power and pull, as if she were a fisherman and her power was the line in the water. As quick as the sensation came, it went, leaving Dany confused as to what had just happened to her. That was until she heard a voice coming from beside her. "Well done, Daenerys Targaryen. Apparently, my Apprentice does have a skill when it comes to teaching others."
Jumping in fright, Dany immediately threw her hands out, ready to use her powers however she could to defend herself against whoever it was that managed to find their way into the room with her and Domeric. But her powers failed her as her eyes fell upon the intruder. He was…gods…attractive. A strong face with silvery hair, yet not due to age. But it was more than just his looks that made her falter. She knew this man. Knew him well, or at least as well as anyone else in Essos who'd heard of him. For there was only one man of note that wore a black cloth across his eyes. Yet strangely…he didn't seem to be…well…here. In the room with them. His body was…well, she could see through his person. As if he were here, yet not here at the same time. Fighting back her fright and surprise, Dany swallowed hard before greeting the man of legend, "Sorcerer Nox."
The man turned towards her, and Dany felt her back go stiff. Gods…just being in his presence, even if he wasn't here was…taxing. "Daenerys Targaryen," the Sorcerer replied in greeting before turning his head towards Domeric as if he could see him clearly through the cloth covering his eyes. "My thanks for bringing her here, Domeric. You may go for now. And have no fear, your honor and guest rites will not be violated."
"I appreciate the confirmation, Lord Nox," Domeric said, bowing to the Sorcerer before doing the same to her. "Daenerys, I will be just outside in my library should you have need of me. And I will see to it that your companion has been made comfortable."
Watching Domeric leave the two of them alone, Dany fought with everything she had to remain calm. "There is no reason to fear me, Daenerys Targaryen," the Sorcerer stated, surprising her. "My Apprentice has spoken quite highly of you, and your abilities with the Force. And I must admit that I have been eagerly awaiting the chance for us to talk like this."
"And just how are we 'talking', Sorcerer Nox?" Dany asked, managing to regain some measure of control over herself.
Smiling, the Sorcerer turned and motioned towards the glass candle in the center of the room. "Your ancestors' manipulation of the Force was truly remarkable. But even as remarkable as they were, there was still much they did not know, or understand. Even around their own creations. These glass candles of theirs, marvelous pieces of Force artifacts that they are, were incomplete. And I've been working on completing them ever since I managed to recover a number from the Valyrian Freehold some time ago."
"I…see." She really didn't, but it was the only thing she could think of to say at the time. "Jon…encouraged me to seek out Domeric. I assume for this purpose…so that we can…talk? On your request, I assume."
Nox nodded, "you are correct in that assumption. However, I didn't just arrange for us to meet so that we might 'talk', as you say."
"Then why have you arranged this meeting between us?" Dany asked. "I doubt it is to swear your loyalty to my brother and I so that we might retake the Iron Throne from Robert."
"Indeed," the Sorcerer nodded, not even bothering to hide the fact that he had no intention of helping Dany or her brother return to their family's ancestral place in Westeros. "But in truth, is that what you want? Or is it merely what your brother wants?"
Jon had asked her the same question before, multiple times. And in truth, part of her did want to go back to Westeros, to her home and reclaim that which once belonged to her family. But another part of her realized now that such thoughts were naught but a dream. No. Going back to Westeros was her brother's dream. Not hers. Not anymore. "It was…once. But not anymore," she answered truthfully. "Now I want to forge my own path in life. And I want your help to do so. Yours and Jon's."
Nox gave her an appraising look, or at least that was what it felt like as it was difficult to tell given his eyes were covered. "And what makes you think that I will help you?"
This time, it was Dany's turn to grin. "If you had no intention of helping me, Sorcerer, you would not have gone through all this trouble to make contact with me."
"Well spotted, Daenerys," the Sorcerer praised, conceding the point. "I can give you what you want, Daenerys Targaryen. I can make you strong enough to forge your own path in the world. However, you are going to have to go through the hells themselves to get there. And even once you pass through the fires and achieve what you want, your battle will not be over. Claiming what you want is but one battle. Keeping it is a constant war. Are you ready for that?"
Back straight, Dany nodded. "I am."
The Sorcerer smiled, "Good. Then let us begin, Daenerys Targaryen."
Leaning back in his seat with a mug of fine wine in his hand, Tyrion Lannister waited patiently for his brother to arrive in one of the quieter rooms of Chataya's, perhaps his favorite establishment in all of King's Landing. But despite what many would think, he was not here to indulge in his favorite past time, well one of them at least. No. He'd chosen to meet his brother here because he knew that this was perhaps one of the only places in all of King's Landing where the two could openly meet without fearing being spied upon. And what he needed to say to his brother…it certainly did not need to go beyond the two of them. Gods only knew what his father, or 'beloved' sister for that matter, would do should they learn what he'd learned. He honestly didn't care what could happen to himself, but he would be damned if he let either of them ever get within arm's reach of his daughter.
"Your guest has arrived, little lord. Will you two be requiring company? Or just drink?"
Blinking, Tyrion cursed himself as he hadn't even realized that the proprietor of the fine establishment had walked into the room with him. "Just drink for now, Chataya, and a lot of it," Tyrion said, making a motion with his empty cup. "This cup seems to have quite the sizeable hole in it and needs to be constantly refilled. Though have two of your best at the ready. While I doubt my guest will indulge himself, I have a feeling I will be needing their company right after he leaves."
"Of course, little lord," Chataya grinned as she eyed him up and down. "Though from what my girls have told me, such a name is unbefitting for one such as yourself as you are anything but 'little' where it matters."
No sooner had Chataya left than the door to his temporary sanctum opened, revealing his brother in all of his golden-armored glory, his white cloak almost glowing behind him and his hand resting comfortably atop the Valyrian steel sword strapped to his waist.
"Well, brother," Jamie said, his usual easy smile on his face as he looked about the room Tyrion was in. "I must say that this is a first. Me coming to find you in a brothel, only to find you not enjoying yourself with their services."
Seeing his brother was…odd to say the least. For so long, his only source of family comfort he could find was in the presence of his brother, especially after his uncle Gerion disappeared. His brother protected him when no one else did. He understood him. Made him feel safe, protected. But now, now he didn't feel that comfort or protection. Now he just felt anger. And betrayal.
"It seems to be an era of us experiencing firsts, dear brother. Though not all of them pleasant." Gods help him, he had gone through this conversation a hundred times since leaving the North, planned out exactly what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. But now that the time had come, he found himself at a complete loss for what to say. "First time magic has returned to Westeros in hundreds of years. First time it has truly been accepted. First time a non-Targaryen has sat on the Iron Throne…and a first time my brother has betrayed me in the worst way imaginable."
Jamie's joyful expression vanished almost immediately as he set his cup of wine down. "Tyrion…Had I thought of any other way to protect the girl by sending her to you, I would—"
Tyrion couldn't help the scoff that escaped him. "You think not telling me about my daughter and sending her to the North is the betrayal I speak of, brother? No. Gods no, that is not it at all. In fact, I would dare say that sending Anna to the North and under the protection of the wolves was probably the smartest thing you've done in a long time, Jamie. No. The betrayal I speak of does not concern my daughter, but rather my wife…My late wife."
Jamie sat down heavily as a worn look came over his face. "Tyrion…I…"
"You betrayed me, twice," Tyrion scowled, glaring at his brother with hatred, a truly strange sensation as he had never once held even the slightest touch of anger or hatred towards his brother, his protector. "The first when you stood aside and let father carry out his plot to get rid of my wife. And second, when you stayed silent on the matter and let me believe the lie he spun. Even cooperated with it. You let me standby and watch as my wife, not some whore, was raped again and again. And then when it was all over, you let me believe the lie and did nothing as she was sent away with the silver spent on her that night. Silver she never spent…did she?"
Jamie seemed to shrink into himself more and more with each word Tyrion said. But as painful as it was to see his brother in such a state, Tyrion did not relent. He would not give in. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. Not over this. "Did she…Did the girl tell you about that?"
"Yes, she did," Tyrion replied, his teeth grinding. "And her name is Anna. Anna Lannister, brother, not 'girl'. Though, thanks to our father's obsession with his legacy and your betrayal, it is a name she may never be able to hold."
Jamie's head hung low. "Where does this leave us, brother?"
Setting his now empty cup aside, Tyrion sighed. "I don't know, brother. I truly don't know."