There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
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Tyrion smiled behind a raised cup as the Iron Islanders were left to explore the city of Meereen before they'd leave for Westeros, the four remaining in the room as Rhaenar turned to them. "You have managed to bring the Greyjoys into the fold, a task that is normally nigh on impossible." Tyrion noted, Rhaenar nodded.
"They'll be good allies to have; she was fair in what she asked of me." She uttered as she began to step up, smoothing the dark skirts. "Besides, it's only one half of the Greyjoy family, we still have this Euron to fight."
"He's a monster of a man, he was exiled for raping Victarion's wife." Oberyn said, anger fueling in the dark of his eyes.
Rhaenar pursed her lips. "Do you know what we do to monsters?"
"We end them." A loud voice called out clearly across the Throne Room, Rhaenar turning to look over her shoulder. There stood a beast of a man, easily towering over every other in the room, stormy midnight blue eyes glaring up at her as he stood in front of a tribe of men.
He had a face she had seen before, the same straight nose, the high cheekbones, even the long tendrils of silver-gold swept back into one long braid, a single strand of black running throughout. He was imposing, his eyes striking as he held an air to him that demanded respect. Rhaenar could tell that life hadn't been easy for him. That the muscles came from years of swinging a sword, and the scowl on his brow from killing more than most.
She stood, shoulders back as she gazed down at him. Rhaenar refused to be intimidated. "Yes, we do. We end them or we tame them." Was this a man that Varys had sent? Rhaenar began to descend again, moving to greet the man as her eyes remained trained on him. Despite the weather he stood in the thickest black cloak she had ever seen, the length dragging across the floor as he stepped closer to her. "Your name?"
His eyes flickered upon her face, scrutinising her. "Aegon Targaryen." The gasps rippled through the room as Rhaenar stepped away from him, shaking her head. That was impossible, he had died years ago in the Red Keep; he couldn't be here.
Oberyn moved impossibly quick to be beside his Queen, his dark eyes watching this so-called Aegon. "He's dead."
Aegon's arms opened wide, motioning to himself. "Do I look dead to you? Uncle." The fire returned to Oberyn's eyes, grasping the braided hair of Aegon and pulling him to him. The men that had joined him instantly reached for their swords, drawing them as Rhaenar stepped back from the scene, the Unsullied surrounding them moved in.
"If this is a sick joke, I will kill you."
Another voice carried across the room. "It's not a sick joke, Oberyn; put the boy down." A thick red mane and beard lined the man's face as he hissed at Oberyn, surprise crossing not just Oberyn's face but Tyrion's as this mystery man stepped closer.
