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Just InCommunityForumMoreAn Emperor's Song by K.H. Grimoire Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Game of Thrones Xover Rated: M, English, Fantasy & Drama, Percy J., Daenerys T., Words: 321k+, Favs: 3k+, Follows: 3k+, Published: Dec 15, 2019 Updated: Mar 5 1,194Chapter 21

An Emperor's Song

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own anything that is seen as property by the Game of Thrones, A Song of Ice and Fire & Percy Jackson & the Olympians franchises.

Warning: This story showcases violent themes, inappropriate sexual acts, foul language, etc. that is not suitable for most audiences, especially young adults and children. Please read at your own discretion or not at all.

The OST for chapter 21 is, 'Stay a Thousand Years' by Ramin Djawadi

Chapter 21. Fear the Dragon

299 AC

Arc 1: Clash of Kings

In the shadow realm, with Arya Stark…

Darkness.

That was the first thing that came to Arya's mind.

The next was how thick the air was with an unnatural chill, the kind that seemed to cling to her skin like damp fog. She gripped the hilt of her dagger tightly, though she knew her weapon would be of little use against the unnatural things that lurking in the abyss.

"Are you two alright?" The voice of Viserys resounded from beside her though she couldn't see him, or anything for that matter, she felt the reassuring squeeze of his hand.

"I-I can't see." She heard Edric say, the shy boy was obviously trying his hardest to keep from panicking but it was already beginning to show through his voice.

"This place isn't meant for everyone. Only those with ties to the shadows can hope to function normally in this realm." Viserys tells them.

"It sounds like you've been here before." Arya commented.

"I have. But I had a guide to help me last time. I'm not sure how we're going find our way out of this place." As if responding to his doubts, a sudden blinding light drove away the darkness around them.

To her left, Edric's face was deathly pale, his eyes alert as he tried to keep the unease from showing on his face.

He was brave, she admitted that much. Only a fool or a courageous fool would do what Edric had done the night they had come face to face with that rabid wolf.

But he wasn't like her. He never had to escape the capital of a tyrant regime that suddenly decided to persecute her and her entire family.

Amidst her status as a fugitive, Arya had quickly learned to stay out of eyesight by embracing the solemn comfort of darkness.

On her other side, Viserys looked around with steady determination, his expression spoke of calm, but she knew that the burden of leadership weighed heavily on him. They all knew what a mistake made here would mean.

"Well, I guess Melisandre's god will be our guide out of this place." The now visible Viserys says. "Shouldn't be too hard now."

But as if to make his point mute, she began hearing strange sounds in the pitch darkness just outside of the sphere of light around them that sounded like aggravated growls and weird clicking noises.

Her stomach sank to her toes when she immediately remembered the nightmarish creatures that had been prowling around them by the end of Melisandre's spell.

Now suddenly feeling very nervous, Arya's grip on her dagger strengthened. "D-do you think our guide can do anything about shadow monsters?" She recalled the bloody, razor sharp teeth which looked like they had rotten meat stuck between them.

Viserys's answer came after a pregnant pause. "Something tells me that we'd already be dead if they weren't watching over us." He replies lamely.

The light around them pulsated intensely as if warning them to either get a move on or be prepared to become a meal for whatever creatures that lurked in the darkness.

"No matter what, don't split from each other. Come on!" Viserys says before leading her and Edric into a hurried sprint.

As they ran through the darkness with the surrounding light acting as a shield, Arya was very aware of the scuffling and snarls of abominations coming from behind them.

"Shit, shit, shit!" She never heard the pious Edric curse before but this was definitely an acceptable occasion.

Her heart pounded in her chest as Viserys sped up, forcing her and Edric into a full sprint in order to keep up with the prince.

But just as they sped up, so too did the terrors behind them. Their shield of light was noticeably growing weaker.

Guttural roars and wails grew so loudly that it was almost deafening.

"We're almost there, hold on!" Viserys somehow yelled out over the nightmarish sounds of the abyss.

The light had guided them to what looked like a doorway made out of golden light.

With a pounding heart and her feet carrying her as fast as possible, Arya practically leaped through the gate.

As soon as she passed through it, the bone chilling feeling that had dominated her senses before vanished as she tumbled out of the abyss and onto something much softer than a floor.

"Seven hell's!" Viserys groaned from beneath her and Edric who had also fallen down on top of him.

Looking back at where they came from, Arya was thankful to see that the doorway they used to exit had vanished.

As they all stood up, with Viserys grumbling about his back, Arya began looking around at the room they had appeared in.

Thankfully the room was lit enough where she could make out the large and spacious room that had countless barrels that were neatly stacked and lined up all around them.

And based on the lion sigil made of red and gold tapestry that hung from the center of the ceiling, she quickly surmised that they must have been inside of the Lannister's wine cellar.

"I'm never participating in that woman's witchcraft again! She should've transported us inside the castle from the start." Viserys growled angrily as he also took in his surroundings.

"What now?" Edric asks, nervously glancing around the cellar.

"We need to find a way to open the main gates, right?" Arya looks to the silver haired prince who was currently glaring hard at the Lannister banner above them.

"Yes. Now let's not waste anymore time, the longer I have to stay in this castle the more I want to burn it all down." Viserys grumbled.

"How exactly are we going to do that?" Arya asks curiously.

"Simple really, we'll open the gates and kill anyone who gets in our way." Viserys shrugs.

"The Lannister's probably have almost a hundred house guards!" She says incredulously, making the prince pause in thought for once.

And for a moment, Arya almost thought the arrogant prince would take her words under serious consideration.

Until he opened his mouth once more and proved just how stupid he was.

"So?" Viserys shrugged again.

"Ugh, and here I thought being around one sword swinging idiot was too much!" Arya bemoaned, rubbing her forehead in frustration.

It took a moment for her friend to realize she was referring to him but when he eventually did he took on an indignant look. "Hey!" Bless his heart.

"Well then, tell us what your oh-so-brilliant plan is, Lady Arya." Viserys said in seeming jest but it still made her glower.

"I'm not a lady." She growled but her obvious dislike of the title only made the prince grin wider.

"Whatever you say, 'Arya'." The little mischievous and almost knowing curve in Viserys's smile made her both frustrated and a bit nervous.

After all, ever since escaping King's Landing Arya had been hiding the fact that she was a daughter of House Stark and thus had the same status as a highborn lady.

It was a good thing she obscured such information as well because not only had it gotten her further on her own than openly proclaiming her noble lineage would have, but she had no doubt that the prince and his family would immediately lock her up in some tower if they knew who she was.

Ignoring her growing caution, Arya instead began thinking about how she would go about doing the mission they needed to accomplish.

Viserys and Edric's way would just be a brazen attempt to fight past the guards and hold them off long enough to open the gates for the surrounding army outside to flood inside.

But her approach to things was intrinsically different from theirs. A covert approach would have a far better chance for them to both accomplish the objective and live to tell the tale.

So after an intense period of thought, Arya finally decided. "The only way is for us to split into two groups. Edric, you and I will go west of the Rock to create a diversion by opening the sea gates. Once we've drawn away the bulk of the Lannister's house guards from the Lion's Mouth, it'll be easier for Viserys to open the main gates." She finished telling them the plan.

Afterwards, both Viserys and Edric blinked owlishly at her explanation. "Wow, Arya, that sounds like a great idea!" Her friend smiled.

"Huh, I never thought there would actually be a brain behind that stupid looking face of yours." Viserys simply comments, gaining a hard glare from her which he dismisses just as easily as he usually does.

Choosing to ignore the prince lest they spend the next hour going back and forth, Arya continued. "The only serious issue is that Edric and I might not be able to hold off the guards long enough for Viserys to keep the gates open." She frowned at that realization.

Being that they were small children, her and Edric would only serve at best as a slight annoyance for the guards that the Lannister's employed.

"Here, take this." Viserys suddenly hands her a small, round jar.

"What is it?" Arya observes the glass that was filled with a dark green liquid.

"It's wildfire." Viserys replies easily.

Her immense shock almost saw her dropping the fragile container of one of the most volatile and dangerous substances in the Known World.

"What!?"Arya hissed after regaining a firm grip on the bottle. "Why are you carrying around a bottle of wildfire in your pocket? You're insane!"

The prince rolled his eyes at her reaction. "You forget what house I come from, girl. A dragon doesn't need to fear being burned." He tells her with his unmatched arrogance at peak display.

Arya blinked at that explanation. She had heard of the myth that Targaryen's were dragons in mortal form and thus couldn't be harmed by fire.

But for obvious reasons she had never been able to sate her curiosity about the myth so she just assumed it was all a load of pup shit.

"Aunt Allyria used to tell me that Targaryen were the last living dragons! Are you really unable to be burned?" Edric seemed to look at the prince in a new light.

Her friend's awe-filled words only made Viserys's chest puff out more. "Why would I carry wildfire with me if I weren't immune to its effects?" He says as if the answer was obvious.

Deciding to put off her questions until a later date, Arya very carefully put the jar of wildfire inside of her rucksack. "Well, I suppose this should be enough to buy us time." The room descended into an awkward silence as she and Edric all glanced at the older prince expectantly.

Despite their lack of immaturity in most situations, they were both still very much children who had barely experienced eleven name days.

They had been holding it together pretty well thus far but she knew that both of their nerves were only getting worse as their time behind enemy lines went on.

Viserys let out a deep sigh. "Alright, I won't have the deaths of you brats burdening my mind, no matter how annoying your presence is, so as your prince I order both of you to come out of this alive. Understand?" Though he wore a mask of superiority, she could tell that the prince genuinely didn't want either of them to die.

For once, the annoying Targaryen made her crack a small smile. "Whatever, just don't expect me to come save your ass if you mess up on your end." Arya says with an upturned nose while Edric smiles in appreciation.

Viserys shared her grin. "As if I would ever expect help from a heartless little goblin like you." The prince simply snorted as he ruffled their hair.

"Prick!" Arya half-heartedly took a swipe at the offending limb though it quickly retracted out of her reach.

Chuckling, he turned his back to them and began making his way to the cellar door. "I'll clear the way first so you two don't end up spoiling the plan before it can start. Count to a hundred before following after me." He says as he reaches the door.

"Viserys!" Arya calls out, making the prince pause.

Before she can think twice, the youngest daughter of House Stark tells the eldest son of House Targaryen. "Don't die." She says.

Viserys visibly stiffened before trying to cover up his physical shock with a dismissive snort. "…thank you." The prince uttered in response before making his exit.

Never before did Arya ever think that she would want a member of House Targaryen live, but then again her friend was recently empowered by a foreign god who apparently favored them so odder things had happened.

oOo

With Viserys…

Viserys only ever received kind words from his loved ones, and the many maidens who had their perspectives on sex flipped after he gave them a night to remember.

So it was odd to know that the warm feeling that he was currently experiencing in his chest had come from a daughter of one of his family's greatest enemies and someone who he had spent the last weeks butting heads with over the smallest of things.

Perhaps the girl was just nervous about her mission which had a decent chance of it ending with their deaths.

Shrugging off his thoughts, Viserys focused on the mission ahead and it was a daunting task indeed.

Of the hundred or so Lannister house guards within the castle, there were about half a dozen or two that guarded the Lion Gate.

It wasn't a group capable of repelling any kind of sizable force but it was enough to make sure the gate itself remained closed. And it was also more than enough to prevent him from making a move to open it.

Viserys liked to think himself quite capable with a sword, and he very much was, but he was under no delusions that he could win a fight against over a dozen men.

Perhaps he could if he had Perseus watching his back but his nephew was currently preoccupied. Which was unfortunate because his ability to hide and move between shadows would've made this mission a whole lot easier.

So in order to secure the castle gates Viserys had no choice but wait for the moment when his two little companions created the necessary diversion.

And it didn't take long before that diversion made itself known.

Suddenly, the castle rumbled violently and even though he was levels above where the action should've taken place, Viserys could already smell a hint of smoke and sulfur.

"What in the seven hell's was that?"

"It came from down below!"

"The Targaryen's must be attacking the sea gates!"

Commotion and frenzy enveloped the Lannister house guards as they all began running to secure a position they believed to be under attack.

Once the last guard left from his sentry position, Viserys swiftly moved from behind the wooden crate he had been using as a hiding place. The household guards wouldn't be distracted for long so it was best to quickly take advantage of the opportunity the two brats had created.

After slipping through the now unguarded double-doors that led to the entry hall of the Lion's Gate, the prince took a brief moment to take in the vast, mostly empty cavern as well as the two giant lion statues that stood on the opposite side of the hall as if to guard the gates to the ancestral castle of House Lannister.

Looking around the surprisingly well lit hall for a moment, Viserys broke into a sprint when he finally spotted the castle's gatehouse that resided on the far side of the cavern.

He made to sure draw his sword before entering the building because even though all of the guards should now be in the lower portions of the castle he didn't want to take any unnecessary risks.

After glancing around, he spotted the portcullis that controlled the entryway into and out of the Lion's Gate.

But before he could make his way over to the mechanism, a sudden shift in the air made him instinctively raise his sword.

Just as he did so, the steel tip of a halberd collided with his sword.

The force behind the offending weapon made him stumble back quite a bit and in the midst of trying to regain his balance, he felt the flat of a boot connect strongly with his midsection, sending him tumbling out the doorway he had just entered through.

Allowing his momentum to help him, Viserys rolled backwards over his shoulder and landed one knee while spreading a foot to the side to regain balance, his sword was already raised in a high guard to defend against another unsuspecting attack, but it never came.

Emerging from the shadows at the entrance to the gatehouse were three figures, each one draped in the colors of House Lannister and carrying golden halberds. Their armor bore the sigil of the lion, and their faces were hidden beneath helms that caught the faint, dim light.

But these were not ordinary guards. Viserys recognized the way they carried themselves, the precision in their movements, the subtle arrogance in their stance. These men were warriors of the highest caliber—elite fighters, handpicked for the task of defending the Lion's Mouth. And they had been waiting for him.

Besides that, the most notable thing was the soldier's intricate helmets that were crafted to look like the head of a jackal.

"Oh my, do you see what I'm seeing, brothers?" A muffled but amused tone came from underneath the helm of one of the knights.

"I see a lost dragon who's stumbled upon his death." A much more serious tone came from another knight.

Standing up, Viserys watched with keen eyes as the three slowly walked forward. "And who are you all supposed to be?" He asked curiously.

"It doesn't matter-" "Lyon Lefford, and these are my dearest twin brothers, Leo and Leon!" The evidently more carefree of the trio responded with a jovial voice.

The three apparent scions of House Lefford came to a stop just over a yard away from him.

"And we are the Jackals of Casterly Rock!" Lyon announced with an overly dramatic flair.

A deep sigh rumbled from beneath the helmet of the other twins. "I thought I told you to stop introducing ourselves to our enemies." The knight named Leo said tiresomely.

"How else would they know they've been defeated by us?" Ser Lyon scratched the top of his helmet with one of his claw-like gauntlets while his brother gave another exasperated sigh.

Viserys met his gaze, keeping his expression neutral. He didn't respond, though his mind raced. These men were the Jackals of Casterly Rock, a name whispered in the halls of power but rarely spoken aloud. They had once been a group of squires trained by Jaime Lannister, but ever since the Lannister had ascended to his role as a member of the Kingsguard the Leffords had become the deadliest protectors of the lion's castle.

The Jackals were infamous for their ruthlessness and skill, but Viserys would not be intimidated. He stepped forward, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword, his stance calm and ready. "I don't intend to die at the hands of a bunch of squires." His idle insult hit home as he noticed the three brothers tense underneath their heavy armor.

A distinctive pressure filled the air as Viserys squared off against the best fighters the Westerlands had to offer besides the obvious exceptions like the Hound, the Mountain and Ser Jaime. This would be a death battle, he knew that. And so he would not take the opposition lightly.

As the Jackals charged him in unison, Viserys sidestepped the first swing, his sword darting out to graze the helm of the nearest Lefford, igniting sparks that flew into the air.

A snarl escaped the man's lips as he continued to charge, his halberd coming down in a crushing blow that Viserys barely managed to deflect. The prince spun and flicked his blade, the point glancing off the chest of a second, sending him stumbling backward.

The third lunged, the sharp edge of his halberd biting into Viserys's light armor but failing to penetrate the mail beneath. Cursing under his breath, he slashed the man's wrist, making him release his weapon. He seized the halberd and used it to beat back the charging Lyon, who had been waiting in reserve.

The other two attacked in unison, one swinging his halberd while the other feigned a lunge with his. Viserys parried the halberd, stepped inside the other's thrust, and jabbed his sword into the man's thigh. The man howled in anger more than he did in pain but before the prince could inflict any more damage he was driven back by the other two Jackals.

As the injured Lefford attended to his wound, the other two slowly stalked forward.

"That's one down for the moment. Are you still confident that you can defeat me?" Viserys grinned brazenly.

Instead of seeming frustrated or wary by his words as he intended them to be, the Lefford's only seemed amused.

"Oh, you must not be aware." Lyon chuckled ominously.

Before Viserys could question anything he instinctively jerked his head to the side in order to avoid an arrow that would have struck him dead. The only reason he had even registered it was because of the training he had been put through.

Jackal-like, sinister laughter resounded throughout the cavern as five more soldiers joined the scene, all of them dressed in armor similarly to the Lefford's and carrying various weapons, one of which was the handheld crossbow that he had narrowly avoided.

Now he knew why the Lefford's were unbothered by his supposed advantage. "As you can see, dragon! Jackals travel in packs." He could hear the mocking grin in Lyon's infuriating voice.

And as the jackals began encircling Viserys, his jaw clenched tightly and his expression turned grim as he knew that the situation had just gone from bad to fucking horrendous.

oOo

Sometime later at Storm's End, with Daenerys…

The fires of Ser Jon's pyre still cast a faint glow, lingering in the night like the remnants of an unfinished story. The smoke curled upward, intertwining with the stars, forming ephemeral shapes that quickly dissipated into the cool, unyielding air. Daenerys could still feel the heat from the burning wood against her skin, but it did nothing to thaw the coldness that had seeped into her very bones. Storm's End loomed as a silent sentinel around her—its thick, ancient walls sturdy and unbreakable, much like the facade she had built around her own heart. Yet, tonight, that façade felt as though it could shatter at any moment.

Daenerys walked away from the sight of the roiling sea, the pyre of Ser Jon Connington burning dimly behind her, a stormy expression that matched the gray clouds above dominated her face.

Her only reprieve these last couple days was that Perseus had come back from his battle against the Mountain in full health just as he had promised.

She had bursted into tears of joy and relief the moment they were reunited and it would've taken an army to pry her from him.

Speaking of which, Daenerys glanced at her side to see Perseus walking silently alongside her.

Unlike her, he had yet to shed a single tear. Though she knew that wasn't out of any lack of caring surrounding Ser Jon's death.

Ser Jon had been close with all of them but his relationship was always different with Perseus.

Due to being so closely tied with Perseus's father, the old knight would regularly share unheard stories about Rhaegar and she knew that while he didn't express it as openly as she did, her nephew had enjoyed hearing more about his father.

So if anyone deserved to be greatly affected by the death of Ser Jon then it was him. But Perseus showcased a far better control over his emotions than she did.

And not just in regards to Ser Jon's death but also in regards to his capture of Ser Gregor Clegane.

Daenerys had been under the full impression that the Mountain would perish on the battlefield and their family would finally be rid of his evil taint.

But surprisingly, instead of decapitating the monster as he so deserved, Perseus chose to capture the knight alive even while ordering for all of the man's soldiers to be put to the sword.

Needless to say, her nephew's decision troubled her greatly and in no small part caused her a lack of energy as the simple knowledge that her would-be violator was only a few floors below her quarters kept her up at night, especially because she was also forced to sleep alone due to Perseus being too busy with the war and everything else that was happening.

So while she made sure that the journey back to the castle was done in silence out of respect for the occasion, she made it apparent that she wanted answers at that moment by making her way up to the top of the castle walls instead of their quarters.

Seemingly sensing that she wished to speak with him, Perseus made a motion for their guards to let them walk alone.

Her thoughts drifted, like the smoke still rising from Jon's pyre, until she could no longer remain silent. "What do you plan to do with him? The Mountain."

Her voice was soft, fragile, a break in the stillness. She did not expect Perseus to respond immediately, but when he did, his tone was firm, resolute. "That depends on Oberyn," he replied, his gaze darkening at the mere mention of the Mountain. "But one thing is certain—I will kill him."

There was a finality in his words that brought her a strange sense of comfort, though it could not fully assuage the pain in her heart. The Mountain had been a specter of fear that had loomed large over them for too long. His cruelty, his brutality, had haunted her nightmares. The thought of him hunting her, capturing her—violating her, had been a terror she had buried deep. But with his capture and Perseus by her side, that terror seemed a lot less consuming.

They stopped at the edge of the wall, overlooking the sea. The wind howled, pulling at her cloak, but it was not the cold that made her shiver. It was the tension in the air, the weight of all that had been left unsaid between them.

"I never told you, but my namesake means 'destroyer'," Perseus says, his voice unhindered by the crashing of waves.

Wondering where he was going with this, Daenerys chose to quietly listen. "For a long time, I've tried to ignore the signs because I'm not a bad person and I don't believe in fate."

A heavy, soulless sigh escaped from her nephew. "But I can no longer ignore the product of my nature. It seems that no matter my intentions, the outcomes always end with destruction and death. And what's worse, is that I would be completely fine with that as long as it didn't affect the people I cared for. But now—." He didn't have to finish.

Perseus turned to her, and for the first time, Daenerys saw something in his eyes she had never seen before—fear.

"I was afraid, Dany," he admitted, his voice so quiet she almost missed it, carried away by the wind. "When I heard what the Mountain planned for you, I was terrified."

"Perseus—," The admission stunned her. Perseus was always so composed, so steady. To hear him confess to fear shook her more than she expected. He had always been her pillar, the one who never wavered, no matter the storm. And yet, here he was, vulnerable before her. Was there anyone else who could say that they've witnessed this side of him?

He reached out, hesitating just long enough for her to feel the gravity of the moment, before his fingers brushed gently against her cheek. The touch was light, but it sent a warmth through her that she had not felt in what seemed like ages. Her heart beat faster, though whether from the tenderness of the gesture or the emotions it stirred within her, she could not say.

"I can't imagine a world without you," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I don't want to imagine it. I don't want to live in it."

His words hung in the air, raw and exposed, and Daenerys felt something inside her shift. She had lost so much, but here, in this moment, with Perseus, there was a flicker of something she hadn't dared to hope for—connection. Trust. Love. Safety.

He stepped closer, his hand still resting against her cheek, his eyes searching hers.

His sunken, purple eyes expressed a level of tiredness that she couldn't hope to understand. But they also held a glimmer of hope, one that stood out brightly

[OST Start]

"When I almost lost you to the Mountain. It made me realize that nothing is certain. So while I can, I want to make you an inseparable part of my life. A part that I cannot live without."

As he continued, the gray clouds that had previously dominated the sky gradually cleared away completely and left only a few patches of white vapor and a bright sun that shone its light down upon them like a shower of gold.

"I'm not perfect. But I can promise that I will always be there to protect you, to support you and love you. All I ask is that you stand by me, laugh with me and share with me the finer things in life. So I ask, Daenerys Stormborn, will you marry me?"

She was being-no, she had already been captivated by him. By his heartfelt words, his assertive actions, his charming looks, his boundless loyalty and everything else about him.

Was there a perfect man in the vast world far beyond the regions of Westeros or even Essos? Perhaps.

But it didn't matter, because Daenerys's heart had long been captured by the man in front of her. And she would have it no other way.

Just months earlier, she had been questioning herself on whether or not she wanted to marry her nephew. But her past doubts were unwarranted, foolish even.

Because who else would she marry? Who else could make her truly feel secure, protected and most of all loved?

Who else but Perseus Targaryen?

And so, her answer came without much thought and with a bright smile that showed just how happy she was in that moment.

"Yes." Daenerys replied.

Perseus stared at her for a stupified moment, his ears twitching as if they were registering her answer over and over, before his face broke into a large grin.

Then the air filled with jubilation as he suddenly lifted her in his arms in celebration.

The smile she witnessed grow on Perseus's face could've lit the entire world and she giggled in delight when he swept her off her feet and spun them about. Thankfully he stopped sooner rather than later, though Daenerys became lightheaded regardless when as soon as her feet touched solid ground soft lips claimed her own with a tender kiss that she returned wholeheartedly.

Soon enough, their minds disconnected from reality as their only focus at that moment was to pour as much love into their kiss as they possibly could while basking under the gentle warmth of the sun.

Had he still been alive, the ever stern but compassionate Ser Jon Connington would have inevitably been smiling at the beautiful scene.

[OST End]

oOo

At the same time at Storm's End, with Oberyn…

Many thoughts and emotions were currently running rampant in the second Prince of Dorne.

It was only a few days after the Spider, Lord Varys, had made it known that the princess of House Targaryen was in imminent danger which prompted Oberyn's quick rally of the cavalry in order to provide assistance to his young sister-in-law.

But most importantly, it had been a few days after he witnessed the unexpected phenomena of his nephew exploding into a mist of darkness.

At the time, words had completely escaped Oberyn, they still did.

Nothing could've prepared him for that moment and if Willas hadn't made the claim that Perseus was still very much alive, he would've gone into a panic state thinking that his nephew had just been murdered via some age-old witchcraft or something alike.

It seemed that the Tyrell heir had some prior knowledge about the matter surrounding Perseus's enigmatic exit.

But his old friend refused to answer any of his questions and simply told him to ask his nephew when he next sees him.

So here he was, arriving at the ancestral seat of House Baratheon with his regiment of cavalrymen.

After quickly being given access to enter through the central gates, Oberyn went to the nearest soldier that was based in the castle.

"Lead me to the king, now!" Oberyn hastily commands the soldier, whose posture straightens at the stark order.

"His majesty is currently occupied with the princess and we've been given orders to allow no one to disturb him." The soldier tells him.

Oberyn pinned the soldier with a venomous stare that promised retribution if his demand wasn't met.

Unfortunately, but also fortunately, it seemed that his nephew's soldiers were more prone to follow the orders of their king instead of a Dornish prince because while the soldier went visibly pale, he didn't move a muscle.

Usually Oberyn would've pressed the issue, but he didn't think it right to try and override his nephew's authority.

So, he simply clicked his tongue in annoyance and impatiently waited for Perseus to finish whatever he was doing.

After about half of an hour of waiting, he was finally greeted with the sight of his nephew and the princess, walking down the steps that led to the battlements on the fortresses walls.

The first thing Oberyn noticed was the bright smiles that adorned both Targaryen's faces as if they had just seen or done something that would become a hallmark in their life. It was the same smile he had when he had realized his love for Ellaria.

"Prince Oberyn, good day to you." The princess acknowledged his presence first with a polite but curious greeting.

"Princess Daenerys, I'm glad to see that you're in good health. Hearing of the Mountain's plans to kidnap you was quite the scare for all of us." Oberyn sincerely said he gained his usual mischievous grin.

"Though some more than others I'm sure." Though the princess's face burned red, his teasing didn't seem to faze his nephew one bit.

Oberyn knew a thing or two about having a stunning beauty to call his own, so he couldn't stop his grin from widening when his young nephew's arm unrepentantly wrapped around the girl's waist as the pair came to stop in front of him.

"Uncle, you got here quicker than I anticipated." Perseus says while ignoring the previous comment that he definitely knew was aimed toward him.

"Dornish horses are bred to travel through deserts. A plain of grass is nothing for them." Oberyn stated with pride. "Though recently I discovered someone capable of making the steeds of Dorne seem like turtles with their…special form of transportation."

His hinting words immediately registered in not only his nephew's eyes, but surprisingly in the face of the princess as well who glanced uncertainly at her chosen lover.

"It's best we have this conversation elsewhere, uncle." Perseus's eyes flickered to the numerous soldiers and servants moving around them.

Having expected as much, he made a placating gesture. "After you, nephew." His nephew said something into the ear of the princess who looked unsure but relaxed when she was given a reassuring gaze.

"I'll leave you both to it then. Until next time, Prince Oberyn." Princess Daenerys gave him a polite curtsy.

A highly amused Oberyn watched the two star crossed lovers share a quick but no less loving kiss before the girl departed. His smirk widened as he observed his nephew smiling after the princess.

"I remember my first love. Even after an entire week at my favorite brothel my loins still caught on fire at the thought of her." Oberyn sighed dramatically, gaining an eye roll.

Deciding not to humor his admission with a response, Perseus began leading him into the castle—they were flanked by Grey Worm who had arrived a day earlier.

Once they were deep into the castle, and the halls began decreasing in occupants, Oberyn spoke again. "So, care to explain how you traveled here, nephew?" There was no demand in his voice but there was a blatant curiosity.

"Through the shadows," Thankfully Perseus decided to explain his statement. "I realized I could do it when me and my family had to escape from Lys. It's just been something I've kept close to me since there's no benefit in revealing it to everyone."

His nephew's secrecy was reasonable. If he had the ability to travel through shadows and end up anywhere then he would keep quiet about it as well. But he still couldn't wrap his head around entirely.

Perseus seemed to know what he was thinking. "I don't know how or why. Though I do have a few guesses. My Valyrian blood is most likely the most likely reason for my powers since I can create fire as well." To further prove his theory, he created a golden red flame in the palm of his hand.

Oberyn's eyes glistened with excitement and wonder as he looked at the small flames that licked harmlessly against his nephew's skin. "Great Mother Rhoyne." He couldn't help but mutter.

He had heard that the Valyrians of old were sorcerers of the highest caliber who dabbled in all kinds of magics. It was truly remarkable that their potent powers had seemingly been revived.

Perseus extinguished the flame before they reached an iron caste door that had two Unsullied guarding it.

With a bow, the ever loyal Unsullied stepped aside and opened the door for their king.

"I have a gift for you, uncle. But I admit, this is my gift just as much as it is yours." Oberyn's heart began thudding as he was led through the dungeons of the castle.

Most of the cells were empty with only a few being occupied by prisoners. But that didn't matter because in the cell located at the back of the dungeons was a particular prisoner that made him freeze in his steps.

Inside of a cell was none other than Gregor Clegane—the Mountain, chained to the wall, stripped of armor, and looking far more vulnerable than Oberyn had ever seen him. The man's hulking form still radiated danger, but there was a weariness in his eyes now, a stark contrast to the monster Oberyn had faced in the past.

The sight of him triggered a flood of memories—Ellaria's soft touch, her laughter, her screams. Oberyn's jaw clenched as his mind filled with the rage he always felt when he remembered the vile acts the Mountain committed against his family. He had wanted swift vengeance, but it had always eluded him, the sight before him now felt like justice being delivered into his hands.

Perseus's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "He's yours, uncle. You wanted justice. Now, you have it."

Oberyn took a slow step forward, his eyes never leaving Gregor's. "Is he…?"

"He lives," Perseus answered, his voice darkening. "But barely. I've kept him alive for now."

Gregor stirred, his chains clinking as he attempted to lift his head. There was recognition in the Mountain's dull gaze, but also something Oberyn hadn't expected: fear. And it seemed that the source of that fear was his nephew. Whatever his nephew displayed on the battlefield had obviously shattered whatever self-belief the hulking knight had in himself.

"Do with him what you will," Perseus continued, his tone measured. "But do not kill him. I will personally be the one to carry out his sentence."

Oberyn stood silently for a moment, considering the weight of what was before him. This was more than just revenge—it was closure, the final chapter of a bloody story that had haunted him for years. He turned to his nephew, eyes gleaming with a mix of gratitude and darkness.

"You have given me more than I ever thought possible, Perseus, and for that you will always have my loyalty," he said, his voice low. "I will make sure this gift is savored. The pain he inflicted on my sister, your mother …will be returned tenfold."

Perseus nodded once, understanding. "Take your time, uncle. He's not going anywhere."

With that, Perseus turned and left, leaving Oberyn alone with his past. As the iron door closed behind him, Oberyn stepped closer to Gregor's cell, a slow, sinister smile spreading across his face that made the knight wary.

"Hello, old friend," he whispered, fingers lightly tracing the bars of the cell. "I believe we have some unfinished business."

oOo

With Perseus…

He wanted dearly to have Daenerys in his embrace but there was one more thing to do before he could go back to his newly betrothed.

Perseus found Ser Loras in one of the courtyard, his silver armor gleaming in the fading sunlight. The knight was practicing his swordplay, his movements graceful and precise, but there was a tension in the air—something unspoken that Perseus knew he had to confront sooner rather than later.

He approached with purpose, stopping just short of Loras. "Ser Loras," Perseus began, his voice calm but resolute. "I wanted to thank you for your bravery in protecting Daenerys and to inform you that your actions have not gone unnoticed."

Ser Loras looked up, his expression unreadable. "I was only doing what any knight would."

Perseus nodded, choosing his next words carefully. A lot of his plans would fall out of place if he didn't approach this the correct way. "I need more men like you. Fighters I can trust with the safety of my family. I came here to ask if you would swear your sword to me."

For a moment, there was silence. Loras's jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. "To you?" he echoed, his voice colder than before. "To you?"

Perseus could sense the weight of Loras's emotions, the unhealed wounds beneath the surface. "Yes, to me. But most of all, to Daenerys."

Loras stood up straight, facing Perseus fully. There was a bitterness in his gaze, a fire that hadn't burned out. "I will never swear my sword to you, Perseus Targaryen. Never." His words were sharp, like the blade he carried, cutting through the air with finality.

"Not after what you took from me." The flower knight came out as a whisper but was nonetheless heard quite clearly over the soft rustle of the win.

Perseus felt a pang of guilt, the tension between them thickening. He had known this would be difficult. "I didn't—" he began.

Loras's eyes flared. "You brought about his death—whether by your actions or your very existence. Renly…he was everything to me. I loved him. And I will not serve the man who cost me that love."

Perseus felt the weight of Loras's grief, the anger simmering beneath the surface. He couldn't deny the truth in the knight's words. Renly's death had been a consequence of the great game the Seven Kingdoms played, of the power struggle that had drawn them all into a war beyond their control. But it was still hard to be made aware that he was the main reason for the knights pain.

"I understand," Perseus said quietly. "I cannot change what happened to Renly. I cannot bring him back. But I will protect Daenerys, with or without your help. My love for her means just as much as yours did for Renly."

Loras stared at him for a long moment, his expression softening, though the pain never left his eyes. "I won't swear my sword to you, Perseus," he repeated, though his tone was less harsh. "But for her…for Daenerys, I will. I'll swear my sword to her. Not because I owe you anything, but because I know what it feels like to lose someone you love."

Perseus exhaled, relief mingling with sorrow. Loras had made his decision, and while it wasn't totally what he had hoped for, it was far more than what he deserved.

"Thank you," Perseus said, his voice steady but sincere. "She will be safer with you by her side."

Loras gave a small nod, his gaze hardening once more. "I'll do it to spare you the pain I've lived with. But don't think this makes us allies. I will serve the princess, not you."

Perseus met Loras's stare, understanding the terms of their uneasy alliance. "That's all I ask." He hesitated, then added, "And while I won't apologize for the actions I've taken to win this war, Ser Loras. I apologize for not being able to come up with a better solution for Renly."

Loras didn't respond, but the tension between them seemed to ease slightly as he turned back to his horse. Perseus knew that the knight's heart would never fully forgive him, but for now, Daenerys had a loyal protector—and that was all that mattered.

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