POVs are NOT set in chronological order. Just want to make that clear before someone starts commenting about the timeline.
[Pentos 298 AC]
Daenerys.
Her brother's last letter stated that he'd arrived in Braavos and would speak with the Sealord about, Dany assumed, acquiring more ships for the Company's use. Dany remembered some of Braavos. Their home, for one, Dany recalled vividly. Just below the Sealord's Palace, with a view of the Moon Pool so they may glimpse bravos at their deadly duels, sat a large marble villa with Valyrian sphinxes guarding the entrances. There was a vast array of flowers, trees, and brushes from all over the Known World; Dany's favourite had been the lemon tree, where she and her Mother would pick the fruit to bake cakes together.
There had been a patch of the garden that Ser Willem and Ser Bonifer had turned into a playground for Dany, much to Mother's ever-lasting horror, and Dany had loved it with all her heart. Thinking about it brought a smile to her lips, and thinking about how wroth Mother had been when she chastised Ser Bonifer about ruining the garden forced out a giggle.
Other memories of Braavos ranged from vague, at best, and faded, at worst. She recalled visiting a mummer's playhouse where she'd seen a man swallow a sword, a woman dance as she dangled from silken cords, a dwarf riding a lion, an old crone turning water to wine and wine to blood; Dany had even seen a woman breathing fire!
But there were always a few things Dany could remember as clear as the sky in Pentos was that day. Sitting with her Mother as she was taught how to read, write, and speak High Valyrian and watching as Viserys, Aurane, Monford, and Crispian trained under Ser Willem and Bonifer.
They had all been very talented in the yard. Ser Willem said so. Still, Dany knew Viserys struggled with sword, shield, and lance, but under Mother's watchful eye, he had been as diligent a student as any master-at-arms could wish. And it had done him good, too, her brother only falling to Aurane, who was unnaturally talented with the curved arakh of the Dothraki, and Ser Bonfier. . . but he was a knight, after all.
Would Viserys visit their home in Braavos?
'Doubtful,' thought Dany, chewing her lip. 'He'd want to leave as soon as possible; it was too cold and grey. There was never enough sun for him.' That was why she and Viserys and a decent escort of men moved farther south after Mother passed, where it became brighter and rained far less. Not that Dany hated Pentos or the manse they had here. In fact, she loved it; the sun, the priests and their night fires, the people, at least some of them. Illyrio was kind enough, but she could see that he had his own agenda regarding Westeros and the restoration of House Targaryen.
"My Princess," a voice shook her from her thoughts. Dany turned from where she'd been staring aimlessly out the terrace window and saw the girl Viserys brought back almost a year ago before he'd promptly left with the Unsullied to meet with the Company and Ser Bonifer. "My Princess!"
Dany started, flushed, and apologised, "I'm sorry, Missandei. My mind was elsewhere." The young girl, only four years Dany's junior but already ten times more clever, looked at her concernedly.
"Is it the dreams?" Missandei asked, barely a whisper. Dany smiled and shook her head, saying it was only memories of home. "Oh. . . Very well. Magister Illyrio has asked you to join him for luncheon."
Dany tried not to grimace. Illyrio was a man of an enormous appetite, and it took all of her willpower not to retch when she'd dined with the man on occasion. Still, he was the only one who would know when Viserys was returning, and so she bore the display of gluttony whenever she had to, if only so that she could hear news of her brother.
"Very well. . ." Missandei nodded and crossed the room, opened a large black trunk, and took out a change of clothes. "But you will eat with us."
It took an effort to stop her laughter as Dany saw Missandei stiffen before nodding solemnly and turning around with a brush. Finally, Dany smiled and sat before the looking glass, telling Missandei how she wanted her hair for the day before the girl started to brush it.
[Pentos 298 AC]
Dany nearly broke out into song as she hurried to her chambers. 'They're coming home!' Viserys's ship, the Queen Rhaella, was spotted by one of Illyrio's many trading galleys four or five days from Pentos. Soon, Dany would be able to sit on the roof of their manse with a Myrish eye and see the swan ship with its magnificent dragon figurehead flanked by Balerion, Meraxes, Vhagar — Monford, Crispian, and Aurane's galleys.
Later, as Dany was getting out of the bath, she wondered if Jae had arrived at. . . what was it again. . . Moat Cailin! He'd told that boy who made himself Jae's squire that they would soon see the ancient stronghold, but Dany wondered how soon it would be.
'Maybe tonight,' she thought excitedly as she climbed under the silks and shut her eyes. She'd only seen a little of the north, she gathered; it was all just snow, forest, and rivers; of course, Dany had seen Winterfell and Winter town, Cerwyn, and a few other unnamed villages Jae visited to stock up on provisions.
But those little fishing villages were nothing compared to the monstrosity that was Winterfell, and so Dany had forgotten about them the moment she'd woken from her dream the following day. Instead, she wanted to see Moat Cailin, Greywater Watch, Last Hearth. . . the Wall, all the places she'd read about over Jae's shoulder as he studied the northern houses.
And then she saw it. The formidable Moat. Her jaw dropped. Winterfell was large and imposing, frightening to her as a child. But Moat Cailin, barely three towers remaining, was a monster made of corroded stone, covered in thick moss and ghostskin that glowed in the dim light from the enormous encampment to the east.
"What in Seven Hells is that, Jon?" Dany turned to look at the boy, then at Jae beside him as her nephew chuckled.
"That, lad, is our pavilion," Jae said, and Dany giggled at the put-out look on Brynden's face. She put her hands behind her back, walked up to them and looked at Jae's face. "What did you expect?"
Brynden looked up at Jae, through Dany, and pointed at the ancient stronghold. "Not. . . that." Dany smiled as Jae did, shivering as he passed through her. She didn't turn to follow them, instead squatting to look at Ghost, who was now bigger than any wolf Dany had seen.
"Hello, boy," she said, and the wolf looked at her silently. Dany remembered when first she'd caught the direwolf looking at her.
A few days after the Starks found the pups, Jae was reading in his small chamber as Dany sat on her knees to look over his shoulder and read with him when Ghost's ears perked, and he looked at her from the foot of the bed with those blood-red eyes of his. She'd been so startled that she hit her head on the wall!
"Ghost?" She had whispered, shocked. The pup tilted his head, and Dany squealed. She jumped through Jae, lay on her stomach, and stared at Ghost in wonderment. "You can see me!" Ghost tried to lick her face, and he bared his fangs when his tongue passed through her.
Ghost poked his snout through Dany's chest, and she shivered before shaking the memory away. She rose, turned, and followed after Jae and his squire, Ghost padding beside her as Dany took in every detail she could. Even she, who was terrible at anything warfare, could see how difficult it would be to pass through the Moat when it was garrisoned.
"A thousand men could hold the entire north here," Jae told Brynden. "No southron armies have ever bypassed the Moat."
"What about the Conqueror-"
"They had dragons. They don't count," Jae said, and Dany laughed as he continued. "They're quite big, you know? And they breathe fire."
"Okay then. . ." Dany followed Brynden's eyes as the boy looked to the large camp, where great bonfires were being lit as the sun sank. "Is that the King's banner?"
Dany saw Jae bristle at that, and she knew she also did. "Aye," he said. "They're off to Winterfell. King Robert yearns to see his beloved brother Eddard; we will have a new hand before the moon turns, like as not."
"Really?" Asked Brynden. Dany didn't hear what else was being said between the two, far too focused on the crowned Stag flying high above a large yellow tent.
She took off running towards the camp, wanting to get a look at the man who killed her brother and stole everything from their House. She felt Ghost's eyes on her back, silent and unworried, so she didn't worry either and kept going. It took her almost an hour to reach the outskirts of the camp, where the soldiers were sitting around, telling stories over their supper. She would have explored more if she hadn't been so intent on making it to the yellow tent in the centre.
There it was. More significant than any other in the camp, King Robert's tent dwarfed even the enormous wheelhouse she'd seen on the way here, with a single knight wearing all white from head to toe standing outside. She stopped before him and glared at his sad, droopy blue eyes.
"You left him there," she snarled. "You left him and let him believe he was a bastard." The knight blinked, narrowed his eyes, and Dany walked through him as a gust of wind blew open the tent flap.
Saying Robert Baratheon was a disappointment would be an understatement. A fat, loud man whose tunic barely fit over his gut, King Robert was anything but what his title dubbed him. It made her sick to think such a man could live while her brother, nephew, niece, and goodsisters had all died.
'The Old Golds would never allow it,' she thought, glowering, knowing it might not even be true. 'If only they had influence in the south. They would have given Rhaegar power to smash this boar on the Trident and feed him to his Falcon in little bits.'
She left the man the tent of the man who sat on Jae's rightful throne in a hurry when half a dozen girls no older than Dany came giggling into the tent. How these girls could offer themselves up to such a boar, she knew not and, like as not, would never know either. The knight they called the Bold wasn't there, keeping his vigil. Instead, Dany saw the white cloak fluttering in the distance, and her eyes widened.
She ran towards Moat Cailin, through murky water and large lizard lions, over bushes, around trees, and finally, Dany passed the white knight. He was making his way up the broken stairs of the Gatehouse Tower; Dany NEEDED to wake Jae somehow. She didn't trust this man not to kill him in his sleep; he had abandoned House Targaryen once before, hadn't he?
Seeing that Ghost had decided not to run off that night, instead choosing to sleep beside Jae, Dany felt her fear settle down slightly. Still, she woke the white wolf and said, "Someone's coming, boy." Ghost was bounding out of the chamber with the stone table not a moment later. She stayed with Jae until he woke, only after his squire shouted for him. How he effortlessly rose, drew his sword, and seemed almost ready for war in a moment's notice was incredible to Dany's eyes.
She knew her nephew was a better fighter than even Aurane, and she also knew that he'd always held back in Winterfell's yard, always afraid of what Lady Fish would do if she saw Jae being better at something than his cousin Robb. But Ser Barristan was no master-at-arm, nor was he a pack of savages like those wildlings from two years prior.
She'd never feared for anyone as much as she had for Jae as he and a group of Stark guards rode back from Cerwyn after escorting Jonelle and her father back to their keep. She had shouted that there was an ambush, but no one could hear her, so Dany had been forced to watch Jae take a cut to the side of his face after he'd cut down half a dozen wildlings. Dany shook that memory from her mind, shivering, wishing she could forget it.
So, despite how good Jae was, Dany knew he stood no chance if it came to a fight between him and Barristan the fucking Bold, as Jae's friend Hallis Mollen had called the knight what felt like an age ago now. The Lord Commander of Robert Baratheon's Kingsguard was someone even Ser Arthur Dayne had trouble with if Viserys's tales were true, and Dany didn't doubt that they were; he had been eight before the Usurper's war, so it wouldn't be unreasonable for him to have seen the knights in the yard of the Red Keep once or twice. But, in the end, her worries proved to be for nought, and she stood beaming as the Bold swore his life to the one true King. Dany puffed out her chest in pride and swore she saw Ghost doing the same from his place next to Jae.
And then, Dany woke up to Missandei lightly tapping her cheek, worry shining in her young friend's molten-golden eyes. She'd slept for two days but knew not the reasons, nor did she remember the dreams after the one about Jae and Moat Cailin.
[King's Landing 298 AC]
The Spider.
With Stark coming to King's Landing, Varys knew he would need to make moves to keep the wolf Lord from discovering things that Littlefinger was quite excited about being found. Not only that, Varys knew he would need to keep the children safe, for that would surely put him in his King's good graces, wouldn't it? Varys had done a horrible, horrible thing by luring Aerys to Harrenhal all those years ago.
It hadn't been the right time, he'd tell himself as he cried to himself sleep. It wouldn't have worked.
Had he not intervened with the Silver Prince's plans, a dragon would yet sit on the Iron Throne, and the Realm would be at peace, with little to no threats to that peace. Rhaegar would have been a good King, a great King as loved as the Conciliator. . . But Varys, to his eternal shame, had ruined it all. Though he'd tried to redeem himself in the years since.
With his Queen in Essos, Varys had been able to earn some forgiveness by offering Rhaella all the information she wished. . . and wished she did. He'd never worked harder than in those first few years. Varys was in no small part responsible for the rise of the Company of the Dragon, but since his Queen's passing, he'd passed on the work there to a man the Realm thought dead. Ser Richard Lonmouth was a good man and true, as Ser Barristan would put it, and his lips were as effective in Essos as Varys's little birds were here in Westeros and far more able to defend themselves with the help of the teeth.
And when his friend, for he was confident Varys could name the Knight of Skulls and Kisses as such, had sent him word that another, stronger claim to the Iron Throne existed, here, on this side of the Narrow Sea, Varys had nearly sang with joy. A son of Rhaegar lived! And if the boy was anything like his father, Varys would put him on the throne. Even if it meant his life.
Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Varys tore the last yellowed page from the ancient tome. The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms had no place in a city where a man as curious as Ned Stark also resided. One by one, Varys tore the pages and set them aflame, if only to be sure that by some terrible miracle, not a single one remained.
When it was done, the sun was low, and Varys was ready for bed, but he still had work to do, so he shook away his weariness and rose from his seat. His first destination would be the Tower of the Hand; he would cover up each area that Cersei no doubt knew to send her spies to listen in on Ned Stark's private transactions. By the time he finished, Varys was nodding off as he stalked through the Red Keep's underpasses.
[King's Landing 298 AC]
Keeping up with the hustle and bustle of King's Landing had been challenging, so Varys had instead focussed entirely on what little news he received about his King. Last he heard, his King had been seen leaving an inn in Darry with three youths. That had been a week ago now, and if Varys had to guess, they'd be nearing Brindlewood soon.
"The Princess says he is coming here, to this cesspool of a city," Illyrio told him anxiously. "The seahorse is ready to send a hundred men to attend the tourney and snatch our hidden one up."
"He can not," Varus said quickly. "Those ships are known even here in Westeros. The Stag will have any onboard slaughtered on sight."
"Do you take me for a fool?" Illyrio shook his head. "That is what I told them, but Waters is tired of waiting, and the Prince is nearing his limit of patience. He fears what could happen to his nephew here."
"As any good Uncle should," Varys pointed out. "They won't come, then?"
"No."
"Good," Varys nodded. "I will reveal our plans to him when he arrives. If luck favours us, perhaps he shall take a ship east and join his kin."
Illyrio stroked his forked yellow beard and chuckled sadly. "When has luck ever favoured us, my friend?"
Varys smiled sadly. "Then we must hope the Princess's prayers will be enough," he said, Illyrio nodding as they turned the corner.
They'd spoken much more about the moves to make in the following years, and Varys was pleased to say that by the time Illyrio left King's Landing later that week, they had planted the right seeds. Now, all that was left was to wait for his King, and Varys could redeem himself fully.
————
Hello there!
So, as you can probably guess, Viserys isn't mad since Rhaella lived for a while longer than in the books. I just wanted something different, someone Dany could ACTUALLY call a decent brother.
As for Varys, I'm leaning more to his show counterpart, so guess what that means... Drum roll please- No? Fine!
No FAegon!
Just your everyday hero for the smallfolk Varys. I hope that isn't a problem for too many of you, since I know that with the Spider on his side, Jae already has a HUGE advantage in the story, but I don't want this fic to trail on too long.
That can wait for the next fic... ;D
Anyway, thanks for reading!
Have a good and dandy day!
BYE :D
-Alex