Chapter 20 - Three Weddings
Tyrion was sitting in his room, the walls of the Red Keep feeling more and more stifling since the trial. It should have felt freeing when the Mountain fell, but it just brought about more fear. A fear that didn't rely on gods or trials, but the innate paranoia and fury his sister had at her disposal.
Would she send men to finish what the trial started? He saw that hatred in her eyes, beyond anything he had seen in them before, this time it was backed by the absolute knowledge that HE had taken everything from her.
It wasn't true, but that wouldn't matter. Of course, it wouldn't matter. Soon enough, someone would come through that door. They would bring steal and death. Tyrion wouldn't survive a fortnight.
A clash of weapons just outside that dreadful door let him know his time was up. He desperately searched for a weapon, finding a steak knife that struggled to cut his evening meal. It was better than nothing though. Tyrion moved to the door, knowing his best chance was to be unseen. He leaned against the wall, listening to the grunts and clashes of steel hitting flesh.
He had no guards out there, so who could be fighting? Why wouldn't they be working together to kill him? Did Jaime come to save him? Perhaps the trial had convinced him that he hadn't killed Joffrey. The fighting stopped, and two armored bodies hit the ground.
Tyrion tried to hold his breath, but the door slammed open faster than he expected. He brought the knife around with a downward stab, even knowing that it would be at thigh level for a normal man.
"Whoa there lad, I didn't just kill those fuckers so you could stab in the fuckin' knee," Bronn said as he caught Tyrion's arm.
"Bronn!"
"Aye."
"You...aren't here to kill me?"
Bronn laughed, "If I wanted you dead I wouldn't have bothered with those cunts." He nodded to the two dead bodies outside of his door. "Either way, I'd say it's time to get a move on, wouldn't you?"
"My sister..."
"Aye."
Tyrion nodded, and he ran into his room and grabbed what passed for his traveling clothes, a cloak, and a sack of gold. They moved as quickly as possible through the corridors of the Red Keep, but it wasn't until Tyrion made a wrong turn that things changed.
"Where are you going, fool?" Bronn asked.
But Tyrion knew the tunnels, knew the back routes through the corridors. He had to see for himself as he came to a trap door in the Tower of the Hand.
"Stay here," Tyrion said.
"If you go in there you're on your own."
Tyrion nodded and stepped through. The chambers were dark aside from the candlelight by the bed as he walked forward. Familiar curls lay across a pillow, they moved as she heard his steps.
"Tywin?" She moaned in that voice that hurt so much to hear. "My lion?" She breathed.
Tyrion and Shae locked gazes as she realized who was standing there. Emotions flared between them, the betrayal and hurt covering Tyrion's face as fear and anger crossed Shae's. She moved as quickly as she could, but she was deep in the bed. Still, she was first to the knife and Tyrion was only able to grab her arm before she stabbed him.
She slapped him with her free hand but he held onto her arm, finally breaking her grip on the blade. His hands found her throat all too easily. His frustration and anger morphed his meager strength into a deadly grip.
She slapped him again, but his hands found the golden chains that Tyrion had gifted her. He let his weight pull her down as he fell off the bed. She panicked but was too weak from the loss of breath to fight back. The golden chains were so tight around her neck and yet they worked perfectly as he leaned all his weight on them.
Shae stopped breathing again, but this time she stopped moving as well. He didn't release the death grip he had on the chains until his hands gave out, which turned out to be plenty of time.
Tyrion had seen corpses, had made corpses even. He knew a corpse when he was next to it.
"I'm sorry," He said, his voice oddly without the emotion that had strengthened him for the scramble. As he sat there, his eyes fell upon that golden crossbow that Joffrey had tormented so many whores with. The sling and quiver full of bolts fit surprisingly well around his chest. His eyes landed on the reloading device, a golden mechanism. The cocking device was often referred to as a goat's foot lever. He used it to load a bolt into the beautiful weapon, and headed to the privy where Tywin had to be.
He pushed open the privy door to find his father vulnerable and pant-less, sitting on a throne of sorts.
"Tyrion?" Tywin recognized. "Put down the crossbow."
Tywin inspected his son's face, noting the calm and somehow unconcerned features hidden behind the brutal scar.
"We'll go talk in my chambers," Tywin began to get up but stopped when the crossbow moved to Tyrion's shoulder, the point aiming center mass.
"This is how you want to speak to me? Hm? Shaming your father has always given you pleasure-"
Tywin was cut off by the calm tone Tyrion had, "All my life, you've wanted me dead."
Tywin nodded, "Yes. But you refused to die. I respect that...you fight for what's yours." He shook his head, "I'd never let them execute you. Ilyn Pane would never take your head. You're a Lannister. You're my son!"
"I loved her," Tyrion's soft voice once again stopped Tywin's manipulations.
"Who?"
"Shae."
"Oh, Tyrion...put down that crossbow and-"
"I murdered her. With my own hands."
"Doesn't matter."
"Doesn't matter?"
"She was a whore."
"Say that word again."
"And what? You'll kill your father in the privy? You're my son. Enough of this nonsense-"
"I am your son and you sentenced me to die. You knew I didn't poison Joffrey, but you sentenced me all the same. Why?"
"We will go back to my chambers and we'll speak with some dignity."
"I can't go back there, she's in there."
"Are you afraid of a dead whore?"
Tyrion pressed the trigger, an action that felt all too easy for the power it contained.
The bolt hit Twin in the stomach, a deadly blow, if slow. But it immobilized him all the same.
Tyrion found that re-racking the crossbow was quick now that he knew how to do it.
"You shot me," Tywin said pitifully. His anger grew to surpass the pain, "You're no son of mine."
"I am your son. I have always been your son."
Tyrion shot him in the chest, right through the heart. A lethal blow.
The crossbow surprisingly fit well on the sling, not impeding his movement at all. Tyrion left the Tower of the Hand as he knew where the closest entrance to the tunnels was. He was able to avoid Tywin's room where the woman he loved lay dead.
Tyrion was surprised to find a ship waiting to leave port, along with Varys and Bronn both ready to board in hidden cloaks. Just as they were pulling out to sea, the bells of King's Landing began to ring, signaling that something had happened.
Signaling that the Hand of the King had been murdered.
~~o0o~~
"Ser Barristan," Jorah Mormont said with no inflection. A greeting as much as a dismissal.
"Ser Jorah," Barristan said. Each of his armored steps sounded like thunder in the Pyramid, as they entered Jorah's open-terraced study.
"Have I forgotten a council meeting?"
"No," Ser Barristan replied. He handed a letter with a seal Jorah recognized but didn't quite realize the weight of Ser Barristan handing it to him at the moment. The seal was broken.
"What's this?"
"A royal pardon. Signed by Robert Baratheon," Barristan said, his tone level yet holding the weight of judgment behind it. "You spied on her."
"Who gave you this?"
"Does it matter?"
"Have you told her?"
"I wanted to tell you first...man to man. Rather than go behind your back," Barristan couldn't keep all of his anger from his tone as he spat the last of those words.
"Let me speak with her in private," Jorah begged.
"You'll never be alone with her again," Barristan said. He walked away. There was nowhere for Jorah to go besides the throne room. He could feel it like fate pulling him to his death.
This time it was his footsteps that echoed through the halls. He had grabbed his sword and armor, not that it would matter if the mage is there, but it was a comfort regardless.
When he turned the corner, Daenerys, the most beautiful woman in the world, stared down at him with fury in her gaze. To her right was the strange silver-haired woman known as Shiera Seastar, her heterochromatic eyes searching him dangerously.
Missendei dutifully stood to the side of his queen, while Barristan and Grey Worm protected her. At least the mage wasn't here.
When he finally stepped close enough to be addressed, his queen spoke up, her voice as gorgeous and pure as ever, "Why did the usurper pardon you?"
His heart dropped through his guts. He couldn't do this in front of everyone, his darkest secrets revealed. He just needed to speak with her alone, just like in the past. He could speak to her and she would understand!
Jorah's voice trembled at first, but he got the words out, "If we could speak alone..."
"No, speak to me here. Explain it to me."
Jorah's mind raced but he had an inkling of hope, a sliver of light he could see at the end of the tunnel...if only he could convince her, "Who do you think sent this to Meereen? Who profits? This is the work of Tywin Lannister. He wants to divide us, if we are fighting each other we are not fighting him."
Shiera huffed in laughter, her gaze growing into disdain. Jorah only glanced at her as Daenerys spoke again.
"The pardon was signed the year we met."
His heart dropped further, sending a torrent of horrible emotions through him.
"Why were you pardoned? Unless you're saying this document was forged?"
He could feel it, if he lied to her, he would be a dead man. Yet he wanted to with all his might, "It was not forged."
"Why then?" Daenerys' voice turned cold and hard.
"I sent letters to Varys, the Spymaster of King's Landing."
"What was the content of these letters?"
"Information."
"What information?"
Jorah's breath caught again, "When you and Viserys arrived in Pentos. His plan to marry you to Khal Drogo. When you were married. When your brother died."
"You told them I was carrying Drogo's child?"
"I-"
"Yes or no." Her words were daggers as they pierced him.
-"Khalessi-"
"Don't call me that. Did you tell him I was carrying Drogo's child?"
His voice came out a whisper, "Yes."
"That wine merchant tried to poison me because of your information."
"I stopped you from drinking his wine."
"Because you knew that it was poisoned."
"I suspected-"
"You betrayed me."
She stood up, "And when I took Astapor? When I met Hadrian? What about that?"
"Kha-"
"DON'T CALL ME THAT AGAIN. Answer my question. Did you tell them about Hadrian? His gifts?"
"Yes. Please, Khaleesi-" He fell to his knees.
"You sold my secrets to the man who killed my father and stole my brother's throne and you want me to forgive you."
As she spoke he tried to defend himself, "I have defended you, killed for you!"
While he knelt before her, her gaze no longer looked at him, instead looking over him as if he wasn't worth it.
He tried to plea again, "I have-"
He was cut off as the room began to darken. Whispers from the shadows sent chills down his spine as tendrils of darkness reached out from the corners and darkest parts of the huge room. A displacement of air was felt as a 'thump' hit the ground behind him. He didn't have to look to know who it was.
A single boot step echoed around and he began to shake violently. The air in the room dropped drastically in temperature and frost grew on the ground like mold in a basement.
Daenerys was hurt, but she seemed relieved as the mad mage appeared and put his arm around her. The man's strange accent rang through the room, "Well, I always figured there was something wrong with this man. If he could kill me with looks he would have..."
Jorah tried to get up, to try and defend himself, but he couldn't move. Something was holding him where he was, an unseen force that locked him in place. It had to be the wizard's doing. He had seen him turn a man inside out before.
What would be his fate?
Burning green eyes forced his gaze as the only thing he could move was his eyes.
"Legilimens," Harry whispered.
Jorah's vision went black as Harry invaded his mind.
Immediately his mind went back to the moment he was caught selling poachers into slavery. The humiliation and disgrace he brought upon his house and name was only a single step in the downward spiral that lost him his knighthood. The last time he saw his greedy wife, Lynesse, she held nothing but contempt in her gaze as he fled the north. He ran to avoid execution by Eddard Stark, something that seemed to be a real outcome.
Watching this memory was strange, it was like he was on the outside of his body watching it happen to someone else. It didn't take away the shame he felt watching them, but it was still surreal to see.
"Ah the fool from the start," A voice crashed through his mind and a chill swept over him. He turned his gaze away from the memory to see two glowing green eyes watching him like the eyes of death themselves. The eyes could have fit the Titan of Braavos as they stared down at him, weighing his deeds and soul.
Jorah tried to speak to him, but he wasn't a body...he was nothing.
"Let's see what else you've done..." Hadrian's cold voice said. His memories were shuffled through and he couldn't stop it.
Watching the first time he saw Daenerys again was painful, knowing what was about to happen to her. The contempt from Hadrian at the hypocrisy of his actions and words appeared in front of him. He would never have known about her if he hadn't received word from Varys about the possibility of receiving a pardon if he just spied on her. If he just sent a few messages.
He knew he would never be with her, but tried to offer himself as a knight in her service, but deep down he just wanted her trust. Perhaps that was enough.
The memories changed again, each letter he had written to Varys appeared, how he snuck around and wrote them in secret. How he broke every oath he had made to her. The memories continued, how he desperately searched for any piece of information to share with her, to be of use to her as an advisor. To get those seldom looks of approval and thankfulness that she shared with him. It all seemed so trivial now that his deeds were fully on display.
His life seemed hollow. He had traveled so far on the run only to get himself into a terrible situation once again, thinking that he was keeping his options open had inadvertently led him to this fate.
The memories continued and comments from the glowing eyes didn't seem to matter anymore. He could only feel so much shame. He could only keep breathing as he watched himself betray someone he thought he loved.
What was left of him now?
~~o0o~~
"Release him, Harry," Daenerys said. Watching as Jorah floated in pain while his eyes were vacant and listless. He could be dead already.
"No."
Daenerys stepped back as her eyes went wide. It was then that the aura of magic around Harry could be seen. A physical manifestation in the form of a glowing green aura. "Harry, it was me that he betrayed. It is my sentence to pass."
She knew he had rage in him. But as he slowly turned to look at her, she realized the depths of that rage. The naked fury was enough to wipe kingdoms off the map, and with his power, he could do it.
Shadows coiled up once again, but this time it wasn't Harry who stepped out.
Shiera's delicate grace entered the room, her aura was much less intense than Harry's, comforting if nothing else. Daenerys needed her help right now, she was on the verge of breaking down in the tense room as she knew Harry was close to tearing Jorah's soul from his body or doing something equally horrifying.
Shiera went right up to Harry and Daenerys, who were standing close enough together that she could place a hand on both of them. Her fingers nearly turned necrotic as she pushed through Harry's deadly aura, they almost burned while touching Daenerys. Two magical powerhouses filled with rage.
"Will you look at me?"
Harry didn't respond, but his breathing calmed.
"Harry?" Shiera asked again, her hand pushing up his arm and caressing his armored shoulder.
"He deserves to suffer, if not in life, then in death."
"I don't want that," Daenerys said. She still had anger and frustration in her voice, but she didn't want Jorah to suffer at the hands of her future husband...not with what Harry was capable of.
"Harry...release him." Shiera didn't know what he was doing to Jorah, but she could see the magic between them and how the old knight was floating in a painful rictus.
Harry snarled and waved his hand, causing the bound man to collapse onto the stone steps like a sack of potatoes. Jorah groaned in pain, and tears began to fall though they were not related.
"Thank you," Shiera said quietly, her voice a salve to Harry's fire.
"He will not go free."
"It is my decision," Daenerys replied.
"Choose what you want, but if it's freedom, there will be stipulations."
Though Jorah was released from Harry's spells, he still lay there defeated and broken.
"What about a compromise?" Shiera suggested. "Daenerys, what are your wishes for him?"
"Exile...to never see him again," She said while still not looking down at the pathetic form on the ground.
"Harry?"
He just turned to look at her as she did her best not to feel intimidated by his deathly gaze, "I assure you both, when he dies he will face horrors. His fate is sealed. You wish to exile him? So be it, but I will erase some of his memories. He is an enemy."
Daenerys frowned but nodded. She knew he was right, but there were a lot of emotions involved that clouded her judgment. It was the soft words of Shiera that balanced them.
"Do you have any idea of where we can send him, Harry?"
He thought about it for a minute, "Actually, I do have an idea. But some things need to be rectified first..."
"Like what?" Shiera said.
Harry pointed the Elder Wand at Jorah and targeted a slew of memories throughout the man's life, "Obliviate."
"Obliviate?" Daenerys asked with worry.
"I had to remove some memories."
"What did you remove?"
"All memories regarding Daenerys. He will never remember what she looks like, what she smells like, what she sounds like. He will never remember any interaction they had, only that they had some kind of working relationship and that his actions betrayed that. He will not remember anything about the Dragon Empire, other than it exists."
Daenerys looked nearly horrified, but even Shiera was shocked at the depths and abilities of Harry's magic. It had so many applications that the myriad of uses her Shadow Magic had felt lacking in front of him. Even with the drastic increase in magic due to her connection to Viserion, she still felt like an amateur in front of him sometimes.
"I should do more..."
Daenerys stared at him, the emotions swelling up.
"But that will be enough."
"Where will you send him?"
Harry sighed, "He will be a guardian of the Weirwood Tree I took from North of the Wall."
"You were going to plant that in Valyria's ruins, right?" Shiera asked.
"I am. It has a natural resistance to corruptive magic, having stood for centuries within the realm of the White Walkers. It will take some effort to ensure that it works out... and I will have to clear the ruins of whatever still plagues it. But I am hopeful that it will work in the long run."
Daenerys and Shiera nodded, but it was Ser Barristan who spoke next, "How will he guard the place?"
"I can throw together some armor and a weapon for him...something that ties his lifeforce to the Wierwood Tree. This will enable him to protect the Green See-ers that I collected. Bran Stark and Jojen Reed along with their companions."
Shiera looked curious, "You are starting some sort of diviner's school?"
"Something like that...I haven't had time to think about it just yet," Harry said. His anger had finally calmed down and he waved his hand over Jorah's unconscious body, causing him to disappear.
"Where did you send him?" Daenerys asked.
"Just into the dungeons of Peverell Manor for now. We have other things to worry about."
"Our wedding?" With a bit of frustration. She was okay with the idea of making Jorah a defender of the Weirwood tree but was frustrated with how it came about.
Harry nodded, walking up to Daenerys and pulling her into a hug, "A fortnight away and we have plenty of preparations to make for that."
"And what else?" Shiera asked.
Harry sighed, "You both know that I have something beyond a standard relationship with Death."
Shiera and Daenerys exchanged glances but nodded.
"Well...she isn't the only," He waved his hand around trying to describe Death, "Force, out there."
"What do you mean?" Daenerys asked, curiosity breaking through the storm of emotions within her.
"I mean there are many entities across all of reality that could be described as 'forces of reality' or something along those lines..."
Shiera nodded, "And what does that have to do with your current goals?"
Harry stared at her beautiful heterochromatic eyes for a time, "I have been bound by one of them before...locked in a path that ends somewhere in the future, no matter how far off the track I try to step...it just ends up going closer to it. Recently, I picked up an item that can assist Fate in the future. It doesn't bind me, and won't help me at all...but I have a feeling that it could help with the threat beyond the Wall so to speak."
"What item?"
Harry pulled a great sword from his moleskin pouch, one with a swirling pattern along the silver blade. The golden cross guard had two lion heads roaring out into each direction, rubies for eyes. The handle had been crafted from a bone that had been dyed red to match, the color was slightly dulled in the time it sat under the sand in Valyria.
"I could feel Fate pulling me to it when you lot reached me via the mirror. I have a feeling that I can deliver this to someone and let them choose to accept their fate or not. Of course, a few enchantments would be nice."
"You said that was a Lannister blade," Daenerys said.
Harry nodded, "It is indeed, and I believe it longs to be back in the hand of a Lannister again."
She narrowed her eyes, "And this helps us how?"
Harry sighed, "I can't be sure it will, but there is a chance that if he chooses to follow Fate, then he will be of great assistance to the war against the White Walkers."
"Is that why you haven't taken over King's Landing?" Shiera asked.
Harry raised an eyebrow, "I have been through there, but any action I plan to take against the Lannisters seems to piss off Fate. I by no means like it, but she usually means well. I have a feeling that everything they deserve will come to them in time. I just hope we can limit the casualties they cause until then."
"Fate is a lady as well?"
"I haven't actually met her, but only a woman could be so cruel," He said with a smirk.
"Harry...you just threatened to rip the soul from that fool who betrayed Danny," Shiera said with exasperation.
He smiled, "I did, didn't I?"
Harry went off to enchant and refinish the blade.
~~o0o~~
"I don't need a squire," Brienne of Tarth said. She was wearing the castle-forged black armor and sword that Jamie Lannister had commissioned for her.
"Of course you do," Jaime Lannister said. He had been trying to find a sense of normality since Tyrion killed his father. He found it by giving gifts to Brienne. They had a strange relationship, but he had bared everything to her about his past and how his title of King Slayer came to be. Something he hadn't bothered sharing with anyone else. Who else would care?
"He'll slow me down."
"He's not safe here, you'll be keeping him from harm...it's chivalry," Jaime said, nodding to Podrick.
"I won't slow you down, Ser."
Jaime and Brienne looked at him until he realized the mistake.
"My lady...I promise to serve you well."
"See? He's a good lad. He'll serve you well."
Jaime turned to Podrick, "Something for you there."
He nodded to one of the guards protecting him. The man reached to his belt and pulled the double-sided axe Tyrion used during the Battle on the Blackwater Bay.
Podrick looked at the axe with surprise and astonishment, as if it was the first weapon he had ever seen, much less held.
Jaime cleared his throat, "Ready the Lady's horse, Pod."
"Right," Podrick said, running off to deal with Brienne's horse.
Jaime stepped forward, just an arm's length away from Brienne, "You promised to take care of Sansa Stark, to return both girls to their mother. I know not where Arya is, but Sansa is with Little Finger in the Vale."
Brienne saw the roiling emotions deep behind his blue cerulean blue eyes. The near vulnerability that he masked by pushing her to do her duty. Almost a vicarious sense of honor that he felt by Brienne keeping her oath to Catelyn Stark.
Before Brienne could respond, a muffled 'thump' displaced air just next to them.
The guard tried to draw his sword at the sudden arrival of the two people who just literally appeared from nothing, but he seemed to freeze in place as if he could no longer move. Jaime and Brienne turned to find two beautiful people with glowing eyes. One had gorgeous silver hair and the man had raven-black hair.
"Oaths are powerful things," The man said.
Jaime looked to his guard then back to the man, even Podrick was frozen at the sight of the two mystical people that appeared. The man was wearing strange robes over dark green armor, while the woman was wearing a black robe as if it was just a stroll through the park.
"Who are you? Where did you come from?" Brienne asked, pulling her new castle-made steel sword from its sheathe on her hip.
"I am Hadrian Peverell, soon to be Emperor of the Dragon Empire. This is my master of divination, Shiera Seastar. There is Fate at work here today, and it pulled my attention."
His words might as well have been gibberish for all the meaning they could draw from them, but the beautiful woman smiled mysteriously, her strange and differently colored eyes were oddly piercing.
"My lady, I believe you had an oath you were planning to uphold. Would you mind repeating it?"
Brienne's mind flashed back to the oath she swore to Catelyn before they split ways. She made Catelyn promise to not hold her back from killing Stannis, and Catelyn swore with all her heart to not do just that.
Brienne pulled her sword and dropped to a knee, offering the blade and her service equally. "I said, "I am yours, my lady. I will shield you back and give my life for yours if it comes to that. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New. Catelyn accepted the oath in turn."
Hadrian nodded, pulling something from within his robes. The most unique blade that anyone standing there had ever seen appeared in his hands. A blue blade that was filled with silver swirls, drawn from a contrasting black sheathe as if he was holding it the entire time.
He studied the blade, then looked up to her, "Brienne of Tarth...also known as the sapphire isles, not because of gems, but because of the gorges blue waters that surround it. Fitting that I have crafted a blade that so perfectly fits one such as you."
His glowing green eyes locked onto Brienne, who also stared at the blade, "I require a new oath from you, one that you shall repeat to Sansa Stark when you see her. You will be her guardian from this day until she releases you from service. Do you accept this oath?"
As he spoke, his words had such weight to them that no one else could reply. It took a conscious effort for even Brienne to reply, "You wish for me to swear my service to Sansa Stark?"
He nodded, "Just as you did to Catelyn, but you will be doing so with me right now and once again when you see her."
She looked down at the ground, knowing that this was what she was meant for, feeling that it was what she desired. Brienne kneeled once again, her sword and service offered up, "I hereby swear my loyalty to Sansa Stark. I swear to be the shield at her back and the sword at her front. I will give my life for hers if that is what is required."
The emperor nodded and waved a stick over the sword, causing strange runes to ignite along the side as if they burned themselves into the blue Valyrian steel.
"Cut your thumb on the blade and place it just here," He said.
She hesitated for a second, but he gave her a command and she instinctively wanted to follow his words. She pulled her gauntlet off sliced her thumb on the blade and pressed it to the spot he designated. Immediately she felt a connection to the blade like it was part of her.
"Good. Take this sword and know that you shall find yourself stronger, faster, and more capable in a fight...as long as you are fighting for your oath."
"I can't accept this..." Brienne said, reverence and awe in her tone.
"You have already accepted it, an oath is important. You will uphold it. You will do so while wielding this blade, but know that its power will only assist you while upholding your oath." He pushed the handle and scabbard into her hand.
Brienne stared at the sword, just partially pulled from the sheathe, "It's blue Valyrian Steel?"
Hadrian smiled, "It is an alloy I created by mixing Valyrian Steel and this other metal I found known as Azure Steel, something popular in Yi Ti. I also added a few binding agents and a plethora of other stuff, but don't worry about it. You will find no better blade in your life...I guarantee it."
Hadrian's gaze turned to Jaime as if moving on to the other reasons he was here.
Jaime finally found the pressure that wouldn't let him move, relent and the words tumbled out of his mouth, "You are the one who killed the Frey's."
Hadrian nodded, "I did. You know...speaking of oaths, you have made one as well. Made it and broke it."
Jaime's shocked and curious demeanor turned frustrated as the man calling himself the Emperor called him out.
"The King Slayer...they say. Tell me, right now. Why did you break that oath? Why did you kill your king?" Hadrian asked. His tone was accusatory or judgemental, but it did demand the answer.
Jaime had been asked this question so many times. Mocked and ridiculed for doing what was right by whatever set of morals he had, skewed as they were. Something about the man's gaze made him want to tell the truth. It came out easily, "King Aerys had barrels of Wildfire all over the city. He ordered me to set them off when we lost the city. Burn them all, he said. Burn them in their homes, burn them in their beds."
Hadrian stared him down, hearing the truth in his words, "And you were the only one capable of carrying out that order?"
He shrugged, "The only one left in the throne room."
Hadrian stared at him, searching his eyes for the truth, and seemed to find it. He nodded at Jaime, "I see. Make me another oath, Lannister."
"What?"
"Make me an oath beyond that to king or city. Make an oath that you will do what is right by what you know to be right. I can see in you that you know what is right and wrong. Make an oath that when the time comes, and you are ordered to do something wrong, just like that day, you will do the right thing again. Make that oath, and I will give you your hand back."
Once again, Jaime couldn't find the words for a moment but knew the man was telling the truth. Something beyond the glowing eyes and strange accent, he was real and his words were true.
Jaime's heart began to pound as he stared back at the man, the building of pressure and something else filled his chest and body. He felt alive in a way that he hadn't since the days he was on the battlefield. Jaime felt invincible as he fought, his blade a permanent extension of his body. He hadn't felt this alive since that bastard took his hand.
Hadrian stepped forward and demanded his attention.
Jaime nodded and the words just came out, "I swear to do right by the realm, beyond anything a King, Queen...or even an Emperor would command of me. I will, when the time is right, make the right choice. Just as I did that day."
Hadrian smiled at him, reaching into his robes like they had endless room within them, "Good. You know, I found something in my travels abroad."
Harry pulled a beautiful great sword from somewhere, a great sword that he instantly recognized from countless hours of staring at the picture of it when he was a child. The family history of the Lannisters had a perfect picture of this blade in it. Brightroar...the blade of the lion. The Lannisters.
It was slightly different now, but the swirls of Valyrian Steel moved with the light as Hadrian turned the blade around. Before he knew it, he was reaching out for the handle...that was the largest difference from what he remembered. It used to be made from carved and dyed bone, but now it seemed to be made from pure ruby, yet the grip appeared sturdy. His sword hand grabbed the handle, and as he was still in shock, so much so that he didn't notice that his golden hand was moving as if it was his own.
"Jaime!" Brienne said with astonishment.
He finally looked up, "What?"
She nodded down to his hand, and he flinched as he realized that it was holding the blade. The golden monstrosity that he hated so much felt just like HIS hand. Releasing the blade to his left hand, he lifted the golden appendage in shock. A few seconds later the hand stopped moving and he no longer had control of it. His hope drained from his face as he once again lost the power to move his hand. The phantom pain spiked as if it was still there.
He turned his gaze back to Hadrian, fury and curiosity stormed across his Lannister features, "Why?"
The self-proclaimed Emperor, the man who single-handedly destroyed the Freys, saved the Starks, and started an Empire, just smiled at him, "I told you what you have to do. You just made that oath...didn't you?"
Jaime seemed to just sort of drift there, stunned at everything that happened. He only then remembered that he had Brightroar in his hand, though it didn't have a sheathe. "Wait..."
"Now then, I believe you have somewhere to be," He nodded to Brienne. "And so do we."
The silver-haired woman smiled at them all as she walked up and put her arm through his. Jaime was too stunned to think at the moment but wondered if that was the Targaryen girl who the Emperor was supposed to marry. They seemed close.
Her eyes met his and a message was sent to him, "Hadrian sees a future in you, one worthy of a true knight of the realm. Become what you are meant to be."
"Like I said Jaime Lannister, keep your oath, and things will work out," Hadrian ended the conversation.
The two of them disappeared as if they had never been there at all.
~~o0o~~
"I am hers and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days."
"I am his and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days."
Margaery Tyrell and King Tommen Baratheon spoke the words at the Sept of Baelor while Cersei Lannister stared at the new Queen with an unquenchable rage.
The swirling darkness deep within the bowl swirled away as Shiera released the Divination spell. She noted the information that she saw in the book next to her, thankful that she recognized the Great Sept of Baelor, making the people within the vision an easy guess. That could be the problem with Shadow Divination, even with the enhanced scrying device Harry had helped her create.
It was often only a chance that one would find something worth watching, or even if you did, there was no telling if the scenes had taken place that day or a week before, but they were always in the recent past. Sometimes though, meetings that held greater amounts of Fate or weight to many people were easily viewed.
The now clear water shifted and swirled as shadows covered it, her second casting of the day took hold of the artifact. Another image formed, this time of two people she didn't immediately recognize.
"Let's get married tonight!" The rather plain-looking woman said, her excitement pushing beyond sanity.
"Ought we not wait to inform the Lords of the Vale about the Ceremony?" The man with cold and detached eyes replied. His false smile seemed to do nothing to dampen the woman's spirit.
The Vale, Shiera recognized as one of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. This must be the widow of the late Jon Arryn. She couldn't place the man, however.
"I do think that we can wait until-" The man was cut off by the frustration in the woman's voice. It was now that Shiera recognized how well-dressed she was, wearing fine silks despite looking so plain.
"I'm done waiting, Petyr. We had our wedding night many years ago," Lysa Arryn said. Her features turned from frustration to bubbly happiness and then quickly into what passed for a sensual or provocative invitation that matched her new tone, "Don't you remember?"
The man's cold dead eyes were half-lidded as his voice tried to compensate for the truth his eyes held, "Like it was yesterday."
"What wife would do for you the things I've done? What wife would trust you the way I've trusted you?" Her voice and demeanor once again changed, from strangely passionate to nearly hostile, "When you gave me those drops and told me to pour them into Jon's wine, my husband's wine." Her tone ended in nearly a whisper.
To make up for the insanity that poured from her mouth, Petyr reached up and embraced her cheeks, his hands perhaps too close to her throat for most women to find comfortable. It wasn't noticed by the insane woman, "Tonight it is then."
She laughed a crazy laugh like she had been given a cure for something that had been killing her for so long. She broke off and nearly sprinted in the direction of her chambers.
Petyr spoke again, "Let me bathe and dress for the occasion. Once I am presentable I'll call on the septon immediately."
His false smile fell as she opened a double door to find a septon and two guards waiting. She had planned the whole thing. Pulling the man into the room she spoke again, "I'm warning you. I am going to scream when my husband makes love to me. I am going to scream so loud they will hear me clear across the narrow sea!"
Shiera let the spell fade before she threw up in disgust. She would need to find out who this Petyr person was and why he was so creepy. She shook her head and cast the spell once again.
The image shifted from shadow once again but didn't go fully black. It stayed in the same area as Petyr and Lady Arryn, perhaps the same castle. A girl or young woman with red hair sat at a desk in a library reading some book that the image couldn't see. The girl's attention was taken away from her studies or pleasure as a young man's voice spoke up, "My lady, I don't believe we have met...you look familiar."
"I do?" She asked, almost closed off and reserved as she replied. She got a good look at the man, who wore a comfortable tunic and a blade at his hip.
"Indeed. Forgive me, I am Harrold Hardyng, cousin of Robin Arryn and Nephew of the late Hand of the King, Jon Arryn."
The girl looked up at him, taking his full measure. She looked like she might not respond to the man who held out his hand patiently, but she did regardless, "Sansa...Stark."
Harrold's eyes went wide, "My lady! Is your presence here known?"
She gulped and shook her head, "I am sorry, Lord Hardyng, please don't tell anyone. I shouldn't have told you."
His handsome face grew stern and honest, "I will hold your secrets as if they were my own, my lady."
Searching his face, she seemed to find something beyond his words, something she could trust, "Thank you, Lord Hardyng."
"Please...call me Harrold."
The vision ended and Shiera made note of the connection. She once again cast the Shadow Divination spell and an image formed again.
It was a handful of men on horses, dark tan skin with very little leather armor and long black braids. The horses were equipped with well-made leather saddles while the curved black arakh blades hung from the sides. Dothraki. The men were speaking in their language and Shiera didn't know it, so she continued watching and was able to recognize a few words that held weight.
"Khalasar, Vaes Dothrak, and Dosh Khaleen."
The vision zoomed out as they walked under giant bronze statues of horses, only to reveal the true amount of riders entering Vaes Dothrak. The Khalasar was easily over 10,000 men and their retinue.
She went for one last casting of the Shadow Divination Spell before taking a break.
A man in not but rags found himself in a room fit for royalty. He appeared to carry himself as if he was worthy of a higher station as he reveled in the image of himself being viewed as having nothing. "How may I serve?" The old man asked.
The image shifted to the Queen Mother, her face not as filled with anger as the last time Shiera saw it just a few minutes ago, "All over Westeros we hear of septs being burned, Silent Sisters raped, bodies of holy men lining the streets."
The old man spoke in a less tired voice, this time it was filled with wisdom, "Wars teach people to obey the sword, not the gods."
"Perhaps the gods need a sword of their own," Cersei Lannister said.
The man looked at her curiously but kept his mask in place.
"In the days before the Targaryens, the Faith Militant dispensed the Justice of the Seven."
"The Faith Militant was disarmed more than two centuries ago."
"If I explain their holy purpose to my son, their king. I have no doubt that he will sign a decree arming the believers you felt worthy."
For the first time in the meeting, the old man's mask cracked slightly, showing a bit more excitement at the prospect of having such power, "An army that defends the bodies and souls of the common people."
"An army in service to the gods themselves," Cersei replied. "And to you of course, as a chosen representative of the Seven."
"An honor I never expected. Or indeed, ever wished for."
"Which is why you were chosen. You and I both know how the world works. Too often the wicked are the wealthiest, beyond the reach of justice. The king himself cannot always punish those who deserve it most."
"All sinners are equal before the gods," His eyes were much too expressive as they stared at Cersei.
Shiera could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. Could almost hear the loudest thoughts of how his power would rise. Whatever Cersei was hoping for by arming this Faith Militant would surely turn against her.
Shiera sat back from the scrying bowl and finished writing everything she saw down in the journal, tired from the extensive use of magic. Her pool of magic had been growing in leaps and bounds but sending so much off into the ether would tire anyone...except Harry most likely.
~~o0o~~
There were many names for the city of Meereen in the past, but now that it has become the center of the Dragon Empire, things have changed. It was a different place than before, a brighter place.
The City of Hope, the City of Magic, and the City of Dragons were just some of the names that people had been throwing around. What's more, is that the addition of giants to the city had become a surprising boon and they were fully welcomed within the newly budding culture. They were generous and the fertility of the lands outside of Meereen had become a playground for the growers, their strange magic allowing them to create almost too much produce for the city.
The new culture had also evolved, now that everyone was free to do as they pleased, the government had supported local operations that allowed communities to come together to cook huge meals. This brought people together in neighborhood-sized cookouts, where everyone ate for free, the leftovers were handed out and it was regulated as well. The vineyards of Meereen were fully operational, and several wineries had been taken over by former staff that were slaved there. They now sold their products to sources around the city, but they could barely keep up with the demand.
When the announcement from the palace spread, it spread like wildfire. The Mother of the Freed and the Mage of Meereen were getting married, and their Dragon Empire would be fully starting with a celebration. One that had never happened in Meereen before, as it included everyone. The Empire fully endorsed a city-wide party with wine, cake, and a plethora of fantastical foods. It was to everyone's delight when they awakened on the day of the wedding and found the city completely covered in decorations.
White roses and white banners with the symbols of the dragon and the mage combined. It was a gorgeous sunny day, with not a cloud in the sky. The calm breeze brought the beautiful scent of the ocean rolling through the city.
When it came time for the ceremony in the palace, white rose petals began to fall from the sky. They were illuminated in beautiful white light, like the moon on a dark night. The pink and orange sunset began to fall as parades were finishing up and the future Emperor and Empress flew around the city on their dragons.
The blasting roars weren't terrifying anymore, something thought impossible. Instead, they were celebratory and triumphant. They represented the people as their guardians and not their oppressors. The dragons freed them and gave them their lives back, and seeing them flying around roaring before the wedding was a symbol of the prosperity of the Dragon Empire.
Harry rode Rhaegal and watched across the city as Daenerys and Shiera flew together. He smiled at them as Rhaegal roared at his siblings. A returning dual roar came back. After a good hour of flying around Harry noticed the parades were finally coming to an end in the courtyards outside of the palace pyramid. Harry guided Rhaegal, the huge green and black dragon, to drop him off down at the courtyard with arriving parade walkers. The newly trained city guard had simple and solid armor as they held the crowds at bay. A huge section cleared and Rhaegal landed with surprising grace.
Harry vaulted off his back and landed just as easily. His dress robes swirled around him and people all over the square bowed at him. He smiled and walked up the steps and into the throne room of the palace, passing Ser Barristan on the way, who was waiting for Daenerys to land.
"Greetings, Emperor Hadrian, a fine day to get married, is it not?" Maester Aemon said with a smile as he crested the platform where the thrones usually sat.
"Maester, it is a fine day indeed. It seems the city is just as excited as I am. Every time Rhaegal roared, everyone below seemed to be cheering back!"
The Maester laughed, "They know the dragons are here as a force of good."
"That they are. We are going to change this world, Maester. But even still, I am going to enjoy today."
"As you should, my lord."
Harry handed him a box as he heard the sound of two more dragons landing outside and turned to face the entrance. Unsullied lined the white walkway and Harry had conjured up some instruments to play a wedding song. He cast the spell to have rose petals floating around the room once again, allowing the fragrance to enter his nose. He had a few more lights as well, creating and beautiful scene.
He could hear the crowds of people cheering outside. He could picture his future empress, his queen, waving benevolently at the crowds below. They called her their mother, their savior, and he loved it.
Eventually, the music began to build and the doors opened once again. Arm in arm, Shiera escorted Daenerys through the doors with Ser Barristan in his spectacular armor behind them.
Shiera was wearing a gorgeous and elegant purple dress, one that showed a fair amount of her graceful left leg. It went up and wrapped around her neck, leaving both of her slender shoulders open to the air. Her silver hair was done in a beautiful multi-faceted braid that sat on her right shoulder. And she didn't draw Harry's attention at all compared to how Daenerys was dressed.
Her perfect white dress was a magical creation thanks to Chancey's involvement. White light drifted off of it in motes that sparkled on the ground in her wake. It fit her form perfectly, like a second skin, except where it purposefully billowed out. Her silver hair glinted in the light of her dress matching her platinum earrings and necklace, both dragon-themed. She looked like divine royalty as her dress flowed behind her. Daenerys' eyes glowed like a fantastical purple sky, magic to their core. She had a smile on her face, looking regal and confident, pulling the attention of not just Harry, but everyone who could see her. She walked in step with the ethereal music that had never been heard on this world before.
All of Daenerys' closest advisors, servants, and friends were all around the room. Missendei smiled at her savior, friend, and ruler with a gaze that held love and respect equally within it. Daenerys reached the platform Harry was on and he took her hand gently. Her eyes were locked on his and her smile only seemed to grow.
"You are radiant, Daenerys."
"I guess you really can tidy up when needed," She replied, a slight smirk on her face.
Harry laughed.
Shiera took the place of a priest, as they didn't want a religious wedding, but rather a magical one. Shiera cast a bit of magic, summoning a book from the shadows behind her. Harry was impressed at her ability, knowing that she had been practicing since he had freed her from the Bloodraven.
As Shiera took her place, the view of the ceremony and everything said was projected onto the outside of the Great Pyramid so that all those in the city could listen and watch the ceremony. The crowds were massive and people lined the streets to watch.
"Thank you all for coming this wonderful evening. It is my pleasure to officiate this wedding between Lord Hadrian Peverell, Master of Death, and Queen Daenerys Stormborn, Breaker of Chains. This wedding is more than just a contract or agreement, but a binding of magic, body, and soul."
Shiera's voice echoed through the chamber and while she spoke quietly, her voice rang perfectly in everyone's ear. "In light of what this wedding represents, the forming of the Dragon Empire, I would like to say a few words about the future. As the Mistress of Shadows and Divination, I have personally worked for and with both Daenerys and Hadrian to ensure the safety of our people. We are pushing forward on all fronts to eliminate piracy, slavery, and discrimination of all kinds. What's more, we are building more schools, healing centers, markets, and community eateries. You have seen the prosperity and potential for all of us here in Meereen. I can assure you that that is and will be, the same for all of the Dragon Empire."
Cheers were so loud outside that it could be heard within the palace.
Once they died down, Shiera continued, "It is now time for you both to make your vows to the other."
Harry cleared his throat, "Daenerys, from the moment we meant in the realm of Dreams, I knew I wanted to be with you. Your magic, your power, but most importantly, the way that you see this world. The fact that you want to break the wheel and every chain out there to give everyone a better chance at life, is incredible. It makes me excited to use everything at my disposal to help you in your goals. But what is more, I want to change this world as well. I want to make my mark on it as I make it a better place, and I want to do that with you. In the name of my magic, I promise to take you, Daenerys Targaryen, as my wife, I promise to have and to hold you from this day forward, for better or worse, to love and to cherish you, until parted by death. This is my solemn vow."
He began to glow and the words he spoke became a ribbon of text, made of light that wound around both of them.
Daenerys spoke up, "I admit that I haven't made it easy for you. I have put every hurdle I could think of in front of you and I did it to see if you were worthy of being my husband. But time and time again those hurdles were not but steps you took to get closer to me. You proved a thousand times over that you were worthy of me and more, that I should ensure that I am worthy of you. I know now that you are beyond incredible, fighting forces and beings beyond any of our understanding. You keep the demons at bay so that the rest of us may live in peace. I promise to take you, Hadrian Peverell, as my husband, I promise to always remain loyal and trustworthy. To be the best of what you see in me, to love and care for you when you need it most until parted by death. This is my solemn vow."
Just like with Harry's words, hers became a magical script that flowed around both of them.
Shiera smiled at both of them, watching the floating script with interest, "Beautiful vows, both of you. Thank you for sharing them with all of us. It is now time for the exchanging of the rings."
Hadrian turned to the Maester behind him who nodded and pulled a beautiful ring-sized box from his robes. Harry opened the box and revealed a ring made from an interesting combination of metals, primarily goblin silver. He had spent a good few days making it, and the swirling silvery alloy wound around a brilliant amethyst gemstone. It took time for him to find it, but he found the stone deep within the Peverell vaults. When he first found it, the stone was around the size of a grapefruit. He used a series of rituals to condense it down to the size that would fit on the ring. It was covered in enchantments that would help act as a magical focus for Daenerys, including weight reduction so it wouldn't weigh as much as the larger stone did.
He pulled the ring out and took her left hand, he slid the ring on perfectly and could almost watch her magic begin to fill the gems like a second reserve. She gasped, "This is incredible."
"Just wait until you cast with it, speaking of which I have designed some spells that you will be able to use while wearing the ring."
"I love it, thank you," She said with a smile, admiring the beautiful ring.
Behind her Missendei stepped up and handed her a wooden ring-sized box. She opened it and pulled out a strange black ring.
"Shiera helped me forge this ring, made from a particular type of shadow steel that should enhance your magic."
He held out his left hand and got a good look at it.
The top part that fit closest to his palm was clean and smooth like it was a finished top, but the lower half had an amethyst matching Daenerys' eyes, yet it was strangely shaped, like a teardrop that was swirling in a moving circle. Like half of a yin-yang symbol. The rest of the ring looked like it could be connected to something and Harry's mind wondered if there was something it went to, another half to connect to.
It was clear that they had caught Harry off guard as anything that could draw his attention like that must be something he was interested in. Both Shiera and Daenerys were smiling at him when Shiera spoke, "With these rings and these vows spoken and exchanged, I now declare you husband and wife. Emperor and Empress!"
Harry leaned in closely, pulling Daenerys in, and kissed her. It wasn't their first kiss, but the weight behind it was more impactful. Their lips met and sparks were exchanged between them. The floating rose petals swirled around the couple, caught up in their combined magic. The floating words, the vows to one another wrapped around their respective rings, becoming a delicate and beautiful accent to both of the rings as the words engraved themselves.
The kiss was timeless and passionate, resonating cheering from across the city approved of the couple and their marriage. Harry pulled away with a huge smile breaking across his face. It was matched by Daenerys' radiant smile as well.
The fresh couple smiled and waved outward, the external projected images made it look like they were waving at everyone in the city. After a few seconds, Harry scooped Daenerys up and spun on his heel once. They appeared within Peverell Manor seconds later. They worked their way to the bed, clothing falling behind them. As Daenerys slipped out of her dress he lifted her onto the bed, kissing her the entire time.
A swirling of shadows pulled the newlywed's attention, revealing a smiling Shiera.
Both of them raised an eyebrow at her.
Shiera looked innocent, "What? Someone has to be witness."
She let her eyes roam the pair. Harry looked back to Daenerys, who smiled and shook her head. She resumed kissing Harry as she wrapped her legs around him, allowing Shiera's presence.