Morel
patreon
28. Maegor XVII / Shiera X
🕑 Added 2024-08-18 16:25:10 +0000 UTCHello again, here is a rather meaty chapter and I am sorry you guys did not get a proper new addition to the story this weekend but it is coming soon. I am still working on the edits which should be released sometime today or tomorrow. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
The wild sounds of cheering and music were so loud as to be heard over the great walls of Pentos. A chorus of yells, cheers, and screams, accompanied by what must have been a thousand different instruments all blaring out in cheer. Yet my mind was not focused on them. It was focused on my more pressing issue.
“Dohaeris,” I whispered to Terrax while patting him on his thick scales. I could feel through our bond that he was still riding the high of combat and the loud cheering and racket inside the city proper had interested him greatly. He was curiously swiveling his head around, getting a good look at the walls he had flown over what must have been one hundred times by now.
Terrax let out a huff at my words and poked his nose into the great iron gate that lay before us but he did listen to me. His restlessness seemed to fade and a more bored emotion washed over our bond. I had been winding him down from his excitement over the last few days with small attacks on the scattered remnants of Dothraki but I could tell he wanted more. Like a dog who was not satisfied with the walk, their owner took them on.
“How did the Dragonkeepers ever manage to deal with you?” I asked my dragon playfully. We were still waiting for the gates to open at midday for the triumph so I was essentially just killing time. ‘Small talk atop a dragon would be challenging,’ I thought with a light chuckle to myself.
I was currently at the head of a column that was to march through the wide streets of Pentos in triumph. When it had been offered to me by my allies in Pentos I could hardly resist the temptation. Getting to flaunt our victory over the dastardly Dothraki was the perfect way to properly paint the image I would need.
A glorious conqueror, fighting on the side of Pentos. That was the image I wished to project to the people. I had already largely bungled swaying all of the nobles onto my side so I would merely have to make do with my solid fraction of the Magisters and Nobles and appeal to the Smallfolk for more support.
Pentos was an odd city, much more odd than what I remembered of Tyrosh. For one, Tyrosh had far, far more slaves within her city limits. Tyrosh was the center of the Slave Raids in the Narrow Sea. So they got their fair share of captured Westerosi but they were also much closer to the primary source of Slaves in this world, Slaver's Bay.
‘If only the Dothraki sought to raze their cities instead of Qohor,’ I could not help but think with a scowl. I had done my fair share of research on the Dothraki to prepare for the battle and it seemed the Slaver Cities were quite eager to bend the knee and pay tribute to the Horse Lords. They actually thrived under the Dothraki's protection, now having easy access to the Dothraki slave trade.
The Dothraki pillaged, killed, raped, and enslaved their way across Essos for more than a hundred years before I arrived. Sarnor was brought to her knees and the Slaver Cities benefited from the immense increase in supply. I heard horror stories of tens of thousands of slaves being marched across the Dothraki Sea toward Meereen.
These new Sarnori Slaves flooded the market and drastically reduced the prices of slaves. With tens of thousands being bought up by slave traders and nobles across the Free Cities. Tyrosh got her fair share but I was lucky in that Pentos was quite far to buy up the increased supply.
The far lower numbers of slaves in Pentos carried the benefit of retaining a sizable, albeit fading, middle class of artisans and merchants that I could appeal to, in addition to the small landowners in the Flatlands. Many of these men had slaves themselves but it was a far different form than the chattel that worked the vast estates in the Pentoshi flatlands.
The Pentoshi flatlands offered another opportunity for me. ‘I will need to have a chat with Rego later,’ I thought with another frown.
The vanquishing of the Dothraki meant that the Flatlands and Old Andalos would be free from their raids and thus become more profitable. I had the distinct benefit of being in a position to capitalize on that. With the immense amount of gold that was soon to be flowing into my coffers.
Lands could be claimed and bought up, which would only increase my wealth further as more people left the city now that the Dothraki threat was far reduced. I would likely continue to squash minor raids for the next while but securing the Little Rhoyne should stem the bleeding.
‘It will have to wait I suppose,’ I thought with a quick jump as the great iron doors opened and we began our triumphal march at the head of the victorious army.
‘Some victory it was,’ I thought with a glance backward. The Black Company had the distinct honor of leading the procession but even at a glance, I could see that the casualties from the battle had been immense.
The initial plan had been to crush the Dothraki left flank and then descend on the rear of the Dothraki center. Thus boxing them in between our defenses and a wall of fire behind them. Such a maneuver would have cut them down nearly to a man and ensured the death of Khal Temmo. Who was currently unaccounted for.
Yet my oversight led to our near defeat on the right wing and a large force of Dothraki threading the needle. I thus decided to close in more and directly aid the soldiers fighting on the ground as best I could. It halted the Dothraki advance and destroyed their main push but it also meant that a lot of the soldiers went up in flames as Terrax’s fury ascended the hill.
It took days to count the total casualties but the current count was somewhere around five and ten thousand Pentoshi and Sellswords and nearly forty thousand Dothraki over the course of the battle and the subsequent days.
The Black Company herself had lost nearly a thousand men. A massive loss when there were only barely three thousand to begin with. ‘Another conversation for tonight I suppose,’ I thought with a glance toward a clearly exhausted Aeron behind me.
It was his decision to retreat off the hill that saved many lives that day. He was thanked more times than I could remember by practically every man in the company. Yet he had little time to celebrate, as it was his job to work with the other commanders to tally the dead and piece together what was left.
‘Enough dour thoughts,’ I waved away my concerns then. Sure the battle could have gone a lot better, and mistakes were certainly made but I had long since decided to not let mistakes weigh me down. They were to be learned from, not be an anchor around your neck.
With my woes and worries cast aside for the time being. I finally cast my gaze at the enormous crowds that lined the streets of Pentos and I offered them a light wave. The awe of a dragon and the victory for their city had thrown the entire city into a jubilant mood and there were hundreds of chants going on in the crowds.
“Prince Maegor!” “Glory to Pentos!” “To Victory!” and a hundred other chants rolled off the crowds like waves. Washing over the army behind me and it almost seemed like they perked up at the celebration.
With the deaths of so many men. It had made the already present exhaustion from cleaning the field of battle and quashing the now scattered Dothraki all the worse. It seemed those feelings were cast off now though. The cheers and celebration of the city seemed to brighten the very sky.
‘Perhaps we should let the men into the city to celebrate for the night,’ I thought with a cursory glance back. Discipline was no doubt vital to the army but it was surely fine to let them celebrate a bit.
Terrax remained obedient as we slowly marched at the head of the army. Passing the wide streets of Pentos as Terrax bounced between excitement at all the noises and smells around him and disappointment when I reined him back in.
‘More training will be needed,’ I thought with a blank look toward my dragon. I could not entirely blame him for lashing out at the pain but my mother had gotten to the point where she did not need the whip for Vhagar. I had gotten Terrax close to that but it seemed I needed more than simple joy rides with him.
“I wonder if we could get some Dragonkeepers to come over,” I spoke lightly to my dragon and he seemed to bristle at the mention of his hated handlers. It would surely be a hard sell, the Dragonkeepers on Dragonstone and King’s Landing both hated dealing with Terrax. But I was sure that enough gold and perhaps some promises could sway some.
The column with me at the head walked down the main northern road toward the city square and the palace of the Prince of Pentos. With the soldiers having praise and thanks lavished onto them by the people all the while.
A Pentoshi Triumph was another of their strange traditions. Like the maiden of the fields and maiden of the seas. It was steeped in whatever odd religion the founders of the city believed in. Even if that faith had long since lost her monopoly.
A victorious army was to parade down the streets and lavish the people with gold in exchange for praise. The army was invited to sing songs and chants and even taunt their defeated enemies. This current triumph was a little different because the raid on the Dothraki camp netted little gold but the people cheered all the same.
The army was to march around the city and eventually stop at the Prince’s Palace. Whereupon he would heap honors and rewards onto the successful general, or generals in this case. That was where I was leading the column. Captain Syrio and Captain Borello both perished in the flames but unfortunately, Magister Thorello did not share their fate.
A major leader among the faction of hardliner nobles who detested me. Magister Thorello was perhaps the one man I hoped would die in that battle. Instead, he remained in the rear and even aided Aeron on the flank with reserve troops. As a result, I would be sharing my rewards and celebrations with him.
His horse was right behind Terrax so when we arrived at the palace we would not have to wait long for him to make it to the podium outside of the manse. Which I could finally see as the army took one final turn and had a straight path toward the mansion.
Terrax remained obedient the whole walk there. Profoundly enticed by the cheers and awe of the crowd but he did not lash out.
‘I suppose he has had his fill of human. For now,’ I thought with a sigh. Terrax had put the rest of the army to shame when it came to cleaning up that field. Unfortunately for me and the source of my current headache, he was not particularly capable of differentiating between the charred corpses of friends and foes.
‘At least there is no real way of knowing who got eaten,’ I thought morbidly. Having to apologize, or god forbid pay the hundreds of families that were denied the charred corpses of their sons because my dragon was hungry would be a nightmare.
Having reached the end of the march. Terrax stopped in his tracks and lowered a wing so I could climb down. I winced as I swung my left arm over but I had already gotten the wound checked out by the healers assigned to the army. I had superficial wounds on my back and a single arrow had managed to pierce the skin on my left arm.
Apparently, some of the Dothraki were armed with dragon bone bows, how they acquired them was anyone's guess but a handful were found among the ash and charcoal on the Dothraki's left flank.
That was a situation I would have to deal with later, however, as I descended from my dragon. I had to ascend up the podium to speak to the crowds and hear the quick speech of my former friend alongside Magister Thorello.
The look Prince Nevio gave me was one of complete and total hatred. His eyes were seared with hot lava and I could not entirely blame him. Tyanna was put to death because of me after all. A series of well-placed threats, promises, ultimatums, and demands secured the ruling from the judges. Tyanna of Pentos never got the chance to threaten my family again. As a noose was tied around her neck and she was hanged in a private setting.
‘So be it,’ I thought, giving him an icy stare of my own. I understood his anger but circumstances had pitted us against one another and I would not let him win, even if I had to stick Dark Sister between the eyes of my former friend.
Chants of “Prince Maegor” and “To Victory!” continued all the while and no doubt made the Prince of Pentos feel even worse. Not that it mattered anyway, all it meant was that his hand was forced. Which was shown when he finally began speaking.
He raised his hands and the crowd quieted immediately, awaiting his ceremonial speech.
“People of Pentos! The Dothraki sought to vanquish our fair city. Khal Temmo raised eighty thousand men to destroy Pentos. Yet the damnable barbarian failed!” he began and the crowd went wild in response. Only to be quieted by the soldiers around the city center.
"Our glorious army soundly defeated the Dothraki menace outside of Ghoyan Drohe. The honorable Magister Thorello, our guest Prince Maegor Targaryen, and all the brave soldiers of Pentos ended his reign of terror and freed us from the Horse Lords' yoke—now and forever!" He spoke again, and I noted his choice of words.
Downplaying me as a guest and belittling the accomplishments of the sellswords under Pentos’s employ.
‘Crafty fuck, let's see how you like it when the tables are turned,’ I thought as the speech continued with the lecherous fool’s bluster and bravado filling the air.
“Now, let us give thanks to our saviors. It is only fair that Pentos bestows them with honors and rewards befitting their deeds! The honorable conclave has already promised Prince Maegor three thousand pounds of gold for his services,” Prince Nevio began and I could see that he was dreading what was coming next. Which meant my allies in the Conclave had done their part.
“Yet that promise is insufficient for the services received by our fair city. The honorable conclave has decided to reward Prince Maegor with not only an extra thousand pounds of gold and a large estate in the Velvet Hills. The honorable conclave has also decided that Prince Maegor is fit enough to be one of their ranks!” Prince Nevio said through barely hidden grit teeth and the crowd celebrated in jubilation.
‘Perfect,’ I thought with a cocksure smile sent Prince Nevio’s way. He was willing to belittle me in his speeches but the Conclave could not be so easily brushed aside. They decided whether he lived or died after all.
I had presented my allies in the Pentoshi Conclave a list of things I desired. Membership to the Pentoshi conclave was first and foremost. As I could properly play politics there and further increase my power if need be. That was the only demand I was completely demanding on. All other ones could be negotiated down if necessary and I would have been satisfied with just my three thousand pounds of gold and membership but it seemed they went the extra mile in the negotiations on my behalf.
‘I suppose I will have to reward their loyalty in some way,’ I pondered while the crowd continued to cheer in jubilation. I would need to keep them on the side as well. A decent portion of the conclave were either my allies or aligned with me but having more of a cushion could not hurt.
Pentos was not a democracy and was not even a republic but the people still mattered. They might not have political power but a rowdy mob was still dangerous, and I would rather have the mob on my side than poised against me. Earning their favor could not hurt at least, so there was no real reason to not give it a try.
Prince Nevio began speaking again and rewarded Magister Thorello with lands on the Little Rhoyne and even more gold than I had been rewarded with. Even if our totals remained lopsided thanks to the original arrangement.
I cared little for that, however. I was instead planning for the celebration that night. Along with the myriad of conversations I would need to hold with my closest allies.
…
The celebrations held at my manse following the day-long celebrations in the city were perhaps more muted. I invited my closest friends and allies in the city so it was a more private affair. There was still plenty of wine and music so it was certainly not boring but compared to the opulence on display at the Prince’s palace earlier in the day. It paled in comparison.
It was mostly intentional, however. The real reason I invited my inner circle to my manse was to discuss what to do going forward. Especially now that my short-term goals had been achieved.
It just so happened that my manse had a wonderful dark room with no windows for such a clandestine meeting. My enemies had no doubt made their fair share of plays over the last few sennights of my being in the field and I would need to respond in kind.
“How about one more toast before we begin properly?” a clearly tipsy Rego Draz said from his seat two people to my right and the rest of the table reluctantly lifted their glasses. I had been fighting to not get plastered this day but the wine was good and celebrations were to be had. So I was also a little tipsy, just like everyone else at the table.
“What was it that you said again, Aeron? The soldiers were chanting it earlier. ‘Victory or death’ was it?” I tried to remember the chants but I remember being too focused on my dragon to really pay attention.
“It was To Victory. Which sounds like a better toast. I kind of wish I said Victory or Death though, it certainly invokes more courage,” Aeron spoke quickly, swirling the fine Pentoshi vintage Illyrio pulled out for this occasion in his glass.
“Well then, To Victory!” I said, raising my glass and the rest of the table followed suit.
Illyrio Narratys to my left. Gessio Brenyl to the left of him. Aeron Velaryon was to my right. Finally, there was Rego Draz to Aeron’s right. Making a five-man table.
“Now then, you called us here to talk, Prince Maegor. What is it you wished to discuss?” Magister Gessio said clearly, he was perhaps the second least drunk among the five of us. Sticking mostly to the watered-down wine like myself.
“Before we get into that, I wanted to thank you and Illyrio once again for your aid in the conclave. I will repay your generosity,” I promised wholeheartedly. Without the help of the two magisters to my left, none of my politicking until now in Pentos would have been possible.
“Of course Prince Maegor, you have been a stalwart ally of our fair city and more importantly, our families,” Magister Illyrio said with a smile. It seemed alcohol only made him more jubilant and friendly.
I nodded his way but then turned to Magister Gessio. “The immediate threat is gone and a major victory has been achieved but it would be fortuitous to not rest on our laurels. Enemies continue to stir and I need your advice and your support,” I laid out my position clearly. I was with trusted advisors, backed by years of friendship for one, plenty of favors owed and taken, along with plenty of assurance from my wife of their cleanliness. I could afford to lay my deck of cards on the table.
“I suppose I can begin, the Black Company lost a lot of men in the battle. It will take a while to organize the soldiers back into coherent units and recruit new people,” Aeron began and I sought to assuage his fears. Truth be told, the army was the least of my concerns. It was a problem to be certain but with the Militia sent back home and the massive casualties sustained by Pentos’s proper forces. Our smaller Sellsword company would remain a useful threat.
“Well, the Black Company remains employed by Pentos, and surely warfare will not cease. As now Norvos is wide open and I doubt the conclave would just allow Braavos or Lorath to stick their grubby paws onto our fallen sister,” Magister Illyrio seemed to sober up instantly and slid right into the conversation with no issue.
“So long as the gold from Pentos continues to flow and The Terror continues to fly above them. The Black Company will not be at great risk,” Rego Draz continued the conversation seamlessly. He was thoroughly glued into my finances so it was only natural he would have a hand in the running of the Black Company as well. Especially because one of his disciples was the quartermaster.
“I am sure we can keep the gold flowing with little issue, and with any luck. News of our great victory will inspire new recruits,” I said, gesturing toward Illyrio and Gessio.
“Hmm, hopefully, that luck translates to Westerosi recruits,” Aeron said and I agreed with him. Westerosi were far less likely to have their loyalties compromised in Essos. Not to mention the martial culture breeding a drive that was rare among Essosi.
“So we have discussed the issue with your free company but our victory over the Dothraki will surely stir up trouble among the other free cities. The Dothraki depopulated the upper Rhoyne Valley and raids in the Flatlands kept farms risky. Both are no longer issues now,” Gessio cut in next and this was something I would prefer to speak with Rego and perhaps Shiera and Aeron too but getting my allies more land and power couldn’t really hurt me. So long as I kept them loyal that is.
“Land is surely going to be contentious. We should pounce before the rest of the city realizes the golden opportunity,” Illyrio spoke next and I gave a glance toward Rego Draz, who nodded readily.
“Ideally farm lands in Old Andalos and the Flatlands should be the first to be bought up. Then again, I was just granted an estate in the Velvet Hills,” I thought aloud and I saw both Illyrio and Gessio wince.
“The Velvet Hills are currently filled with outlaws. What with the incessant raids keeping most of our influence from the region. We tried to get you an estate elsewhere but the opposition in the conclave was crafty. They hope it will be nothing but a drain on your resources,” Gessio elaborated and I could see why they did that.
“Do they want me to control the Velvet Hills? It seems like a foolish play on their end,” I could not help but say. I absolutely could wrangle control of the Velvet Hills, with both an army and a dragon at my command.
“They want it to be your problem, it is a less profitable and wild region that Pentos has little control over. It also happens to be between Pentos, Braavos, and Norvos. It was mostly a ploy by the more centrist members of the conclave. The hardliners wanted to give you nothing,” Illyrio continued to fill in the gaps but my mind was racing.
“Then I will center my investments in the Velvet Hills and Old Andalos. I would recommend you two buy up as much land as possible in the Flatlands to deny our enemies more wealth, along with convincing some of the lesser aligned houses to do the same,” I spoke to the two on my left and they readily agreed, before Illyrio began laughing.
“You are speaking like a true Pentoshi Magister. Tell me, Prince Maegor. Do you intend to go back to Westeros even still?” Illyrio asked me and I could not help but frown.
“I do not wish to remain here all my life but I cannot be complacent. Recent events have proved that to me,” I said with a dejected tone.
My brother not visiting me left a sour taste in my mouth. I would have absolutely visited him if our situation had been reversed. Not to mention that it boded poorly for the idea he would lift my banishment come the death of our father. It was clear that I needed to shore up my position here at the very least. I hoped that my brother would lift my banishment and even return Dragonstone to me but if all else fails. Being wealthy and powerful in Essos would be a good start.
“Well, do you want to be Prince of Pentos then?” Aeron asked me that and my frown deepened.
“Prince Nevio will forever be an enemy to you. It would be fortuitous to deal with him quickly and you would be a popular candidate,” Illyrio jumped on Aeron’s line of thinking and my eyes drifted around the table.
“We should make preparations then, or at least have a plan in place should he be foolish enough to endanger his position. I do not know if I am ready to take said position but we can replace him with either myself or a loyalist if we must,” I offered noncommittally. I certainly did not want the current position of the Prince of Pentos, as it was an odd position with little power. It would also likely cement me here, which I did not want.
“Then I believe we are good here. It is late and I can feel that tomorrow's Conclave meeting will be a long one. I shall retire now.” Gessio Brenyl stood up then and it seemed like the rest of the room wished to do the same as they all also stood up.
“Very well, do your best to not forget what we spoke about today,” I spoke to all of them but mostly to my magister allies. As they had more important roles.
‘Speaking like a true Pentoshi,’ I thought before frowning again. This was the problem with increasing my power and wealth in Pentos. The more I did so, the less easy it would be to merely return to my home.
____________________________________________________________________________
Shiera X
31AC
“So… what do you think?” Maegor asked with a smile and Shiera looked up from the desk she had taken a seat at to give one back.
“It is nice, albeit cozier than the one in Pentos,” Shiera said, taking a glance around the rather small solar. It was not the main one, which belonged to Maegor but this small villa in the Red Hills happened to have two. So she found herself with a solar of her own.
“Sure it is cozy but is that a bad thing?” Maegor asked from his position at the door and Shiera shook her head.
“No, did I say that?” she asked playfully and Maegor merely shrugged.
“You said albeit, I personally like the cozy feeling. This is a nice retreat from the city,” Maegor walked away from the door and moved toward the closed window, peering out the fine myrish glass.
“It is just different, that's all. I do not find it better or worse than the one in the city, for now at least,” Shiera moved to assure herself while Maegor just chuckled.
“It certainly is different, and I think that is a good thing. A little change in scenery sounds amazing right now, especially if the scenery looks like this,” Maegor said while looking out at the snow-covered hills and Shiera thought about standing up and joining him there but she decided against it.
“A good thing? You know I have asked you to decorate the manse in the city more,” Shiera said with a lightly teasing tone. She would watch herself of course, with Queen Visenya’s reprimand still fresh in her mind but she could afford to have a little fun with her husband.
“It is not merely the decorations the gracious previous owner of this estate bequeathed us with, Shiera. It is the landscape. I would like to make sure my children grow up not just surrounded by brick and stone,” Maegor spoke with an energy and fervor that could only make her smile.
Ever since Tyanna died, Maegor had been much less paranoid and more cheery about being a father. They must have shared a hundred dozen conversations about lessons on magic, politics, writing, swordplay, money, and a myriad of other things. Maegor deeply desired to be in his children’s lives.
‘Perhaps that is because of his father,’ Shiera could not stop the thought from appearing in her mind. Even if she cast it away immediately, thinking about King Aegon made her sad. He was always kind to her in King’s Landing and he was the entire reason she was even sent to King’s Landing. She could indirectly thank him for falling under Queen Visenya’s tutelage.
Yet it had all fallen apart and now she and Maegor were banished. With no time limit on the banishment either. As far as she and Maegor knew, they could be living here permanently.
The room suddenly got very quiet and Maegor was suddenly sitting right in front of her. Pulling the chair across from her desk away and taking a seat readily.
“Do you feel alright?” he asked, concern coloring his face.
“Uhh… yes I feel fine, why?” Shiera rushed to answer.
“You got very quiet and got this sad look on your face, is something troubling you?” Maegor asked with a firmness to his tone that she had not seen in a while.
“No no, I apologize. I was just thinking,” Shiera moved to assuage her husband’s concerns to the best of her ability. The words of her goodmother rang in her mind like a bell.
The memory of Queen Visenya’s explosive tirade was one that she would never forget. She could still recall her words with no issue, almost as if her lecture occurred just a few moments ago.
“How is it possible you could be so reckless!? After everything I have taught you! Did you think you were so capable as to not need to heed my words?!” Queen Visenya’s explosive anger was so great as to almost shake the very foundations of their mansion.
“No, Your Grace,” Shiera offered meekly, unable to respond with anything else.
“You not only put yourself in grave danger but your child too! The babe in your womb is your only responsibility now. How many times did I say that on Dragonstone?!” Queen Visenya was beet-red, a ferocious anger radiating off of her like a heatwave.
“I do not remember, Your Grace,” Shiera replied quietly once again. She agreed with everything Queen Visenya was saying but hearing such anger directed at her from someone she held so highly was not fun.
“Enough that you should remember! You have gone against everything that I taught you! Thrown caution to the wind! Placed your trust in snakes! Shown a cavalier disregard for not only your own life but your child as well! You put this entire family in jeopardy! Put my grandchild in danger!” Queen Visenya’s rage rolled off of her in great waves, only pausing for her to take breaths.
“I apologize, Your Grace,” Shiera offered meekly but she found it to be a mistake.
“You apologize!? Apologies are not enough! You have already shown that your words mean nothing, as I distinctly recall you swearing to be a good wife when you wed Maegor. Yet you seem to have failed in that!” Shiera winced at the claim and she could feel tears brimming in the corners of her eyes.
“What good would apologies do if your child was dead in your womb Shiera?!” Visenya continued to yell with the same ferocious rage.
“They would do no good, Your Grace,” Shiera offered again, tears now streaming down her face. She wished Maegor was in the room with them but Queen Visenya had forced him to leave.
“Right you are! You will rectify this Shiera. I do not wish for my son to have multiple wives but if you are incapable of fulfilling the role I set out for you. I will find another,” Queen Visenya promised, venom practically dripping from her tone but this time Shiera spoke out, her meek tone cast aside.
“Please! Anything but that! I will redouble my efforts. No more mistakes, I swear on my life!” Shiera dropped to the ground to beg. Queen Visenya was correct of course, she had completely failed but she would not allow it to happen again. She could not allow everything to go to waste.
“Your actions will speak louder than any oath you could give me. Especially after what just happened,” Queen Visenya’s dark purple eyes had a fire behind them, and Shiera’s own filled with determination.
“No more mistakes, Your Grace! That I swear!” Shiera promised yet again.
That promise continued to ring in her head. She did everything she could to not cause Maegor trouble and to give him all the support she could give. When he asked for advice, she would give it. When he asked for help with some paperwork, she would happily sit down to do so. When he wished for some fun at night, she was ready for that too. She was his wife, that was her role. That was her duty, and she swore to make no more mistakes.
“Still thinking about Tyanna?” her husband spoke again, clearing the rather unpleasant memory and Shiera shook her head.
“No, I have not thought about her since she was hanged. The rotten wench got what she deserved, I would not dare to dwell on such a traitorous snake,” Shiera said with surety, the hatred returning to her tone.
Seeing Tyanna swinging from the gallows was perhaps the third-best day of her life, surpassed only by her marriage to Maegor and the birth of Daeron. Tyanna’s wails and screams trying to proclaim her innocence were like music to her ears, the crescendo capped off by a delightful crack.
She got a deserving fate. That was Shiera’s opinion. Tyanna had taught Shiera a valuable lesson that she had forgotten from her time with the similarly rotten seahorse. Trusting strangers is like playing with fire and Shiera was no pyromancer.
“Then what has you so troubled?” Maegor asked again and Shiera looked a little abashed.
“I was just thinking about King Aegon,” Shiera answered truthfully. She was causing her husband to worry and that could not stand any longer.
An annoyed look appeared on Maegor’s face and he suddenly nodded. “That is fair,” he said with a small frown on his face. Maegor still wished to return because of his love of Dragonstone and his brother but it was safe to say Maegor held similar opinions to Queen Visenya regarding King Aegon.
“You said it would be good to have our children here, why is that?” Shiera decided to change the conversation. She was trying to be happier ever since Daeron was born. She would retain her vigilance of course but life was not worth living if all one did was frown.
“It is away from all the politics, all the threats and deals and grime and muck. Pentos has treated us well but as I wade deeper into politics, I do not want that affecting my family,” Maegor said with a small smile. He had thrown himself into Pentoshi politics proper and Shiera recalled quite a few nights where Maegor would complain endlessly about foolish magisters and their whims.
“So, how much time are we going to spend here?” Shiera said while placing a hand on her stomach. She was with child once again. ‘Does he want our child born here?’ Shiera thought with a little worry. This villa was nice and all but she was finally getting comfortable in their city manse again after the Tyanna debacle.
“We are just here to scope out the area for now. I have purchased much of the surrounding lands and once this winter is over. I intend to spend at least a few moons out of the year here. Until then, we will remain in the city,” Maegor clarified and Shiera let out a breath she did not know she was holding.
A silence broke out between them before Shiera decided to break it forcefully. “So… any ideas for names?” she asked with a light tone and Maegor smiled in response.
“Visenya if it is a girl, if it is a boy… hmm” Maegor began and Shiera nodded along happily. She liked discussing her children. Daeron was her pride and joy and surely her secondborn would be just the same.
“So you finally came around to Visenya, huh?” Shiera asked lightheartedly again and Maegor nodded.
“Indeed, my mother deserves the honor,” Maegor said with pride in his voice and Shiera understood the feeling. Compared to her own mother, Queen Visenya was an entirely different beast. A figure that would surely be remembered for generations after her death. One of the three who shaped Westeros. It was a worthy legacy to pass on and if the seahorse would take the name Viserys from her. Shiera would take the name Visenya for her daughter.
“Boys then… we already took from my family. Perhaps we take from yours?” Shiera offered diplomatically. Shiera was deeply grateful for Maegor choosing the name Daeron. Especially once she learned her father’s health had declined since she left Westeros. She hoped he knew about her son, even if he could not visit her to meet him.
It was only fair that the next name would be from Maegor’s more esteemed lineage. Visenya was an obvious choice for a girl but if it was a boy, they should have a name ready.
“Hmm, I recall I liked the names Baelon and Aurion. You liked Gaemon and Aelyx right?” Maegor looked to the ceiling before seeming to pull the words from his memory like pages ripped from a book.
“I have soured on Gaemon and Aelyx,” Shiera said flatly, continuing to rub her flat stomach. She was not yet showing but the far better healer they had since hired already confirmed it. That and with her own tests, she knew that she was pregnant.
“Any particular reason?” Maegor asked and Shiera just shook her head.
“Aurion carries a disappointing legacy, no?” Shiera moved onto another name and Maegor brought his hand to his chin and hummed loudly.
“Hmm, I suppose you are right. While he was the self-proclaimed Emperor of Valyria, he also died in the Doom with his whole army and was never seen again,” Maegor flexed his historical knowledge and Shiera smiled along.
“That leaves Baelon,” Shiera said flatly and Maegor hummed loudly again.
“It sounds good to me,” Maegor said with a light nod.
“That… I like that,” Shiera decided. It sounded a bit odd but she decided she would stick with it unless she could come up with a better one.
“Now then, do I get to hear some of your plans for the Velvet Hills or are you jus-” Shiera began before a loud cry cut her off.
“Oh, looks like someone is upset,” Maegor said with a cheeky smile and Shiera just sighed. She knew what was coming.
Before long, the sounds of crying got louder and louder, and eventually, one of the maids she thoroughly vetted appeared at the doorway.
“Forgive me, m’lady, but the little Prince just won’t stop cryin’,” the young girl looked apologetic and she worked quickly to dispel her fears.
“No need for forgiveness, Hela. I will take care of it,” Shiera said while standing up. She was still early enough into her pregnancy that her mobility was not hindered so she moved to pick up Daeron quickly.
“Shhhh, you are alright, Muna is here,” Shiera whispered to her son while lightly bouncing him. She was still learning the ins and outs of motherhood but Shiera thought she was getting the hang of it.
Hela bowed and left when Maegor also got up from his seat and brought her and Daeron into a hug.
‘Perhaps this place could be a home after all,’ Shiera thought with a smile.
Comments
Benjamim Farah
Maegor will ended up getting a cruel rep with those purges and how the whispers will be distorted when they reach Westeros
Morel
None yet, but he will get some soon.
Omar
So does Maegor have any epithets yet? And pretty cool that Maegor’s dragon is called the Terror.
