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The Return of the Dragon King

Chapter 7

The wedding celebrations were in full swing in Magister Jarrion Orthesian's compound. The compound was raised along one side of a hill, looking down over the city to the sea below. High walls protectively-surrounded the main buildings and the outer courts, which in turn surrounded the inner court.

The light of lamps and torches shone over the gathered guests in the rear court, open to the starry night sky and the cool sea breeze, the latter offset by a number of bronze braziers filled with glowing coals. The guests – fellow magisters, merchants, ship captains and admirals, priests and priestesses, personal friends and notables, the Targaryens, knights and sell-swords among others – mingled with each other between tables covered with the finest linen, presenting silver platters of finger food while servers went to and fro with trays to relieve guests of empty glasses while presenting a variety of glasses of wines and spirits from as far away as Dorne and Volantis for their continued pleasure.

The wedding and the evening banquet that had followed had been held in the inner court, the magister presenting his guests with a sumptuous feast that featured no less than twelve varieties of fish and meat each, along with freshest fruit and delicacies not just from the Sunset Kingdoms and the Free Cities but also from locales as far away as the shores of the Jade Sea. Needless to say, it was obvious the magister was taking the opportunity to show off his wealth along with his beautiful, jewel-bedecked bride (who also happened to be at least three decades younger than he was).

It was only after the banquet that the guests were guided to the rear court to mingle in lamplight, with drink and finger food provided with pleasure. Most of the gatherings' conversations were inane in nature, the women exchanging friendly (and not so friendly) gossip while the men jested with each other. Others were more serious: merchants discussing their fortunes and plans, captains and admirals over the movement of pirates in the Narrow Sea and beyond.

Apart from the gatherings of the guests, a small group of professional musicians plied their trade, their instruments providing a musical background to the gathering. A number of couples took advantage of this to dance with each other in the court's central space, watched by many of their fellow guests.

Magister Jarrion for his part held court in a large balcony overseeing the rear court, other magisters and notable doing likewise in other rooms of the house. Nothing too serious would ever be discussed of course: at best they were all friendly rivals there, and at worst they had only been invited to avoid offering slight and starting a feud.

Still, as was the nature of the rich and powerful, they would gather into individual cliques to show-off their connections and might.

Among Magister Jarrion's court were Crown Prince Aegon and his sister Princess Rhaenys. "If I might ask my prince…" one of their host's fellow magisters began. "…how goes your quest to reclaim your throne?"

Aegon smiled smoothly. "It goes as well as might be expected." He said. "The cracks in the Usurper's reign steadily grow, and the rest is a matter of time."

"A matter of time you say…?" the red-cheeked, fat-bellied magister who clearly had had too much to drink echoed. Magister Illyrio narrowed his eyes ever so slightly in alarm before discreetly glancing to Aegon. The Targaryen to his credit kept his pleasant smile.

"I had nothing to do with the death of the traitor Jon Arryn." Aegon said while swirling the wine in his glass. "And neither did the rest of my family. If the Usurper cannot even protect the stoutest pillar of support he has, well now, that speaks ill of his reign's…resilience."

There were thoughtful murmurs at that, and Aegon drained his glass with a smile. A moment later and he spoke up again. "Of course…" he said while letting a servant replace his empty glass. "…there is still a chance for the Usurper and his confederates proving more able than expected. In that case….well there's still Volantis."

"Volantis…?" a magister echoed in surprise, and Rhaenys chuckled.

Eyes turned to her, and an approving glance from Aegon was the cue for her to speak. "It cannot be denied that House Targaryen is the last of the forty dragonlord families of Old Valyria." She said with a smile as pleasant as her brother's. "I do not doubt that if we had sought refuge in Volantis, we would have been granted residency within the Black Walls."

Eyes went wide and murmuring erupted, and Aegon briefly closed his eyes. "There are four dragonlords alive…" he said with a sip of wine. "…two for two sons and two for two daughters of Old Volantis and the Three Sisters. A new Valyrian Freehold arisen on fire and blood…"

The crown prince trailed off, purple eyes shining with reflected light, and the magisters present exchanging glances at the thought of what such an eventuality portended. And yet…there was opportunity there. Volantis was second only to Braavos in power and might, but combined with the Three Sisters…

…it could not be denied: the four southernmost of the Free Cities held Valyrian blood highly, and the Targaryens were the purest and highest of them all. And should the dragonlords unite the southern cities in such a way unseen since the last, halcyon days of Old Valyria…

…could Braavos itself be overthrown? Could Pentos regain the power and prestige it had once wielded before it had been forced to submit to Valyria's bastard daughter?

As magisters they were used to seeing things as their interests first, and Pentos' interests second, save where the two coincided. But weak as it was, there was still pride there, pride from Pentos' origins as a colony of the Valyrian Freehold, when Braavos' existence was tolerated only because of its distance from the homeland, and its lack of overt defiance to the dragonlords.

Thoughts of vengeance against Braavos were broken as Aegon chuckled. "But that is unlikely…" he finally said. "…so unlikely as to be impossible…"

"What is impossible?" one magister thought. "That the Usurper would endure…?"

"Or your family bringing together Valyria's daughters to reclaim their mother's glory and might…?" a second magister thought.

"But if you did that…" Illyrio thought. "…wouldn't the Fat King move against you? The Usurper hates your family…the Sunset Kingdoms and Braavos together…could a fledgling Freehold overcome them?"

"The Usurper won't last long." Aegon said. "The cracks are already there. The staggering debts he has incurred…the incompetence of his council…rampant intrigue…unrest within the kingdoms…individually none of those are fatal but together…"

"It is only a matter of time." Rhaenys concluded, and Aegon nodded.

"Just as a predator patiently waits for the right time to pounce on his prey…" he said, replacing his half-empty glass and Rhaenys' own with full ones. "…so we will wait for the right time to deliver retribution of the Usurper and his merry band of traitors."

Aegon raised his glass. "I will not forget this city and its masters' hospitality." He said. "Once things are in order, I do not think I will not be disposed to mutually-beneficial relationships between this city and my kingdoms."

For a moment there was silence, and then the same magister who had earlier questioned Aegon burst out laughing. "Gods yes…!" he said, raising his own glass. "I'll drink to that! To your coming reign and to a profitable relationship between us…!"

The tensions were displaced, and the gathered magisters laughingly responded to the crown prince's toast. The ideas of a new Freehold…revenge against Braavos…even the idea of a profitable relationship in the future…all of them were forgotten, set aside as alcohol-inspired jests and nothing more.

Illyrio Mopatis did not however. Instead he quietly gazed at the Targaryen siblings as they bantered with his fellow magisters. "Whether it's the Sunset Kingdoms…" he thought to himself. "…or Volantis…either way it's clear your ambitions go further than simply reclaiming your throne, Aegon Targaryen."

The magister pulled his beard thoughtfully. "Then again…" he thought. "…didn't one of your forebears say that madness and greatness are merely two sides of the same coin? Which are you, mad or great?"

Elia Martell stared at the offered hand, and then at the knight's face. And then with a slight blush she nodded, and taking the offered hand allowed Ser Jaime to lead her to the dance floor.

Their hands went to where they were supposed to go (and to Elia's amusement she noticed a slight tremble in Jaime's hands), and then they began to dance the motions of a waltz. And from there, it took only a few moments before the princess winced as Jaime's foot stepped on her own.

"S-sorry…" the knight stammered, and Elia smiled at him.

"It's alright." She said, and the danced resumed. Barely two steps later and he stepped on her foot again, and again he apologized. Elia sighed, pulling Jaime along…only for him to step on her foot again. "Did you forget the dance lessons you surely took in your youth Ser Jaime?"

Jaime grumbled incoherently under his breath, and Elia laughed in good nature. "Normally a man should lead the lady…" she said, taking the lead. "…in this case though…it'll be our little secret, alright Ser Jaime…?"

"I beg of you my princess." He answered mockingly, and again she laughed. Elia took the lead, and this time the two of them were able to dance without one stepping on the other's foot every few moments. And from the side, Ser Barristan and Prince Viserys watched with others among the guests.

"Is this really alright my prince?" the old man asked the younger one.

Viserys took a sip from his glass. "Prince Lewyn had a paramour didn't he?" he asked, and Ser Barristan started.

"My prince…how did…?"

"I didn't." Viserys said with a satisfied smile. "But I know the rumour, and your reaction confirmed it."

Ser Barristan took a moment to regain his composure, and then he turned back to the dance between Jaime and Elia. Jaime being Jaime, it only took a short time of coaching from the princess to dredge up nearly-forgotten dance lessons from his youth in Casterly Rock, and from there his skills in footwork as a swordsman were quickly adapted to dancing, retaking the lead.

The princess quickly relinquished the lead back to the knight, the knight in white and the princess in black and red catching the eyes of everyone present. It wasn't long before the other dancers gracefully ended their dances, withdrawing to the side and leaving the floor to the two of them.

They didn't notice, with their eyes only for each other.

At the side, Viserys smiled sadly. "Rhaegar would probably be turning in his grave at this." He said. "Though considering what he did…"

The prince trailed off, and Ser Barristan glanced at him. After a moment the prince shook his head. "My good-sister deserves to be happy." He said. "Ser Jaime is a good man, better than my brother was in some ways…even if it must stay hidden…"

The prince trailed off again, and Ser Barristan nodded. "Aye…" he said softly. "…he's a good man…better than me…they all were…Lewyn, Jonothor, Gerold, Oswell, Arthur…"

Viserys looked at the old man beside him. The knight's face was carefully neutral, but there was regret there, and sadness, as he watched his brother dance with one of their wards. "You are too hard on yourself, Lord Commander." The prince said, and Ser Barristan smiled bitterly.

"If Ser Jaime had not defied the Usurper on that day…" he said with his eyes downcast with shame. "…if he had not invoked the memory of our brothers…I would have stayed in King's Landing with bent knee towards the Usurper…"

"Perhaps…" Viserys conceded. "…but in the end you did not…that alone earns you a choice to atone for a brief moment of failure…"

"Brief…" the knight echoed softly before smiling and raising his eyes back to Elia and Jaime. "…yes, it was brief, but I will give what life there is in these old bones of mine to atone for it until the day I die. Then maybe…just maybe…my fallen brothers will welcome me in the next world without shame…"

Viserys sighed and placed a hand on Ser Barristan's shoulder. "To admit your sin is to have no sin…" he said. "…so says the Lord of Light…"

"Thank you my prince." Ser Barristan said, and Viserys nodded before removing his hand. The dance continued for several more moments, Elia and Jaime's movements slowing, gracefully and beautifully as the music slowly and softly reached its end. As they stilled, their eyes remained fixed on each other, with only the sound of applause from around them breaking the spell.

Their eyes went wide, but before either could panic Ser Jaime stepped back with a sad smile, all but one of Elia's hands falling to her side. Bowing from his waist, Ser Jaime pressed her lips against her other hand, and as he rose and let go, Elia stepped back, and slightly lifting her dress gave a graceful curtsy to the knight.

Viserys nodded and toasted his good-sister as she and Jaime left the dance floor. She started, and then glanced up to their host's court. Aegon and Rhaenys were there, smiling for her, and just like their uncle gave her a toast.

Elia blinked and then looked away with a smile and a blush, and then went on her way.

"So…" Rhaenys began while leaning against the rail. Behind her brother the rest of the magisters continued to speak among themselves about matters that did not pertain to her or her brother. "…mother and Ser Jaime…"

"It's always been obvious…" Aegon responded. "…even if they'd never actually made a move on each other all this time. I wonder why though."

"Do you really?" Rhaenys asked, and Aegon smiled and shrugged.

"I suppose it's obvious." He said. "They both respect father's memory too much. I guess this is as far as it will go."

"But…" Rhaenys said, a note of sadness entering her voice. "…is it alright for it to end like this?"

Aegon looked to her quizzically. "Father…well he's dead." Rhaenys said. "Mother doesn't really have an obligation to him anymore, does she?"

"Really now…" Aegon said with a smirk. "…that coming from you?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Rhaenys shot back.

"Now that Margaery is out of the way…" Aegon smugly quoted in High Valyrian, flustering his sister. "…you're mine little dragon, and I won't let anyone else have you Dornish blood or no."

"T-t-that's…"

"Oh relax…" Aegon said. "…I'm just teasing you. You have a point I suppose, didn't Jaehaerys the Wise's mother remarry after her son reached his majority? It's the same thing with mother. The only problem is…"

"Yes…" Rhaenys agreed. "…Ser Jaime is of the Kingsguard. Letter-wise a paramour is acceptable, but anything more than that…"

"Still…" Aegon said while stroking his chin. "…would that make them happy? Secrets like that…they tend to fester and turn to poison in the end, don't they?"

"Not necessarily…"

"Is it?" Aegon interrupted, looking at his sister. "If it were another woman, then I probably wouldn't worry, even if Ser Jaime is a member of the Kingsguard. But mother is a princess, and more than that she's our mother. You can see where I'm getting at, don't you?"

Rhaenys didn't answer at once, and then she nodded slowly. "Yes…" she said. "…as a knight of the Kingsguard, it wouldn't be appropriate at all for him to be in a relationship with our mother. And even if they kept it secret…well secrets have a tendency to leak out, even if only as rumours."

"And I don't want mother to bear that kind of burden on her shoulders." Aegon said sadly, and Rhaenys glumly nodded her agreement.

"Neither I…" she said. "…what a shame…"

"It really is." Aegon said. "Still, it seems that mother and Ser Jaime have the good judgment to keep things like this. It's sad but, this really is the furthest they can go."

"So we'll trust in their judgment for now?"

Aegon glanced at his sister. "Do you object?" he asked, and she smiled before shaking her head.

"No…" she said, craning her head up towards the stars. "…I'll believe in them too."

Aegon smiled and nodded, and then looked up at the position of the stars and the Moon. "It's getting late…" he said. "…perhaps we should return before it gets too late."

Rhaenys too checked the positions of the stars and Moon, and then nodded her agreement. She gestured. "Nymeria…" she said, and the knight approached from the corner she was standing in. "…inform the magister that perhaps we should return before the streets get to empty."

"Yes my princess."

Nymeria saluted and made her way to the magisters. She waited for Magister Illyrio to finish with his current topic and turn to her before she gave the princess' message. The magister turned towards the Targaryens who nodded at him. He nodded back, and then turning back to his colleagues began putting his affairs for the night in order. Aegon gestured for Quentyn and Obara.

"Which of you will inform Viserys and the others?" he asked.

"I'll do it." Obara said. "Quentyn, stay here with Nymeria and accompany the prince and princess."

Quentyn nodded, and Obara walked off as Nymeria returned. It took a few more minutes for the magister to finish his farewells, and accompanied by a pair of Unsullied he joined the Targaryens and made for the outer court. "Did you enjoy the festivities, my prince?" he asked as they walked through Magister Jarrion's mansion.

"I did." Aegon replied. "The banquet earlier was heavier than I'm used to though. No offense intended, magister."

"None taken…" Illyrio replied. "…then again, such a feast would only be suitable in terms of expense at times like these. Otherwise it would be needless waste."

"Indeed…" Aegon agreed with a nod.

"If I might ask…" Illyrio began. "…will you be holding such a celebration in time?"

"Perhaps…" Aegon said with a small smile. "…however considering what I know of the finances of the Seven Kingdoms, and of course the needs of war, it is rather unlikely."

"Ah…" Illyrio said with understanding. "…a shame…"

Aegon shrugged. "Needs must…" he said.

"It's as you say, my prince."

The magister, the Targaryens and their guards walked in silence for the rest of the way to the outer court. There they found the rest of the Kingsguard and their family waiting for them, along with the rest of the magister's guards and retinue. The Targaryens exchanged nods before mounting their horses and the guards took their positions, and passing through the gates made for home.

A/N

Mostly Jaime and Elia fluff, though as explained by the characters nothing will really happen between them. There's just too much in the way. It's sad, but then again ASOIAF isn't a fairy tale with a 'happy ever after' ending (if it is then GRRM's a bloody troll), and neither is this story.

But wait, there's more: what about Aegon and Rhaenys? If they can get together, why not Jaime and Elia…? Aegon and Rhaenys are Targaryens, the lords might not like it, but among Targaryens (dragonlords in general really) brother-sister incest is expected. A knight of the Kingsguard having an affair with the king's widowed mother…? The outcry (or if there isn't then the social pressure/stigma resulting from it) would tear them apart. I've no intention of tormenting them like so.