We took all their horses. The nomads looked broken. Small wonder—a horse was the very symbol of life to them.
I did not know what the Dornish intended to do with the Dothraki or the Unsullied. We had no use for them either. There was no slavery in Westeros, and sending such men to the Wall would turn the Night's Watch into a laughingstock. Eunuchs and illiterate horsefuckers would bring the North more trouble than benefit.
Perhaps the Dornish would divide them amongst their castles, make servants or hired labourers of them. Perhaps they would send them back across the narrow sea to Essos, or simply kill them… Though we all understood that in taking in so many people we were strengthening Dorne, we also knew inevitable losses would follow. Every one of those men had sworn themselves to Daenerys Targaryen, not to the Dornish lords. Conflict was certain to follow..
In the end, it no longer concerned us.
***
The next day, after settling the most pressing matters, we departed for home — for the Red Keep.
Dany had spent nearly a week delirious with fever before regaining consciousness, yet for another ten days she lingered between life and death. I paid her a visit out of courtesy. I wished to see the girl with my own eyes and simply make her acquaintance.
Looking upon her pale, exhausted face, her utterly hairless head, the dark circles beneath her eyes and the expression of endless weariness, I even felt a flicker of pity for her.
She did not wish to speak and, I think, longed for death. All her ambitions had turned to ash, two of her three dragons were dead, and the loyal men around her had perished as well…
We exchanged a few hollow pleasantries, then I left her be. The time for serious conversation would come later, once we were all safely home and the girl had recovered some of her strength.
For now, I merely wished to deliver my valuable captive to the castle.
A week later we rode through the River Gate. The people greeted us with cries of joy and exultation. The three of us — myself in the centre, Jaime and Randyll on either side — led the host. Immediately behind us rode the Kingsguard and our sworn shields, followed by the standard-bearers carrying magnificent banners. Behind them marched the army itself in perfect ranks, solemn and majestic.
I looked back upon them, and pride filled my heart.
This was a proven host, tempered by battle, the finest of the fine. They believed in me, and I believed in them.
***
Near the gates of the Red Keep awaited the entire Small Council and every notable figure of importance. Margaery looked unwell — she was still grieving for Loras.
We spoke long into the night — of ourselves, our children and kin, the war, and the future…
The next morning, three merchant ships departed for Dragonstone. I needed obsidian. I also sent a letter to the Wall, inquiring when exactly they intended to provide us with a wight.
Two days later, a magnificent feast was held, with more than a thousand guests in attendance. For the commons, tables were laid within the Dragonpit itself. The people drank and celebrated for three days whilst we provided wine and food in abundance. The victory at Cloverfield was celebrated in grand fashion.
At the very end, a knightly tourney was held with rich prizes, and by its conclusion the Kingsguard had been restored to full strength once more.
By then, Mace Tyrell and Paxter Redwyne had cleared the Arbor with scarcely any resistance. We were now at peace with Dorne, and the Dornish calmly withdrew back to their own lands, but the ironborn had to be driven out by force.
It did not take long. The Greyjoys had effectively been left alone, they never managed to rebuild a proper fleet, and they were easily cast from the island.
Afterward our fleet sailed into Oldtown, replenished its losses in men and ships there, and then continued onward — to Casterly Rock.
And then, at long last, the time came to speak with my captive.
***
Daenerys Targaryen
A short, fragile girl with the unmistakable Valyrian look — violet eyes and very short silver hair — paced thoughtfully through her cell somewhere within the Red Keep. Though, truth be told, the cell resembled a comfortably furnished chamber far more than any dungeon.
A strong steel grate barred the single window, aye, and the heavy door outside was secured with an iron bolt and constantly watched by guards.
Yet in every other regard the conditions were more than tolerable — a large comfortable bed covered in clean linens, a table and chairs, a privy in a separate corridor, a jug of wine and a basket of provisions upon a side table — bread, ham, fruit…
She was a prisoner, yet King Joffrey still granted her little comforts to distract her and ease the ache of melancholy.
The girl picked up a book — Songs of Westeros — climbed onto the bed with her feet tucked beneath her, leaned against the wall, and opened it at random somewhere near the middle.
Thoughtfully, she read the title aloud.
The Autumn of My Days.
Though the song had been written for entirely different people, though it was sorrowful and lyrical, Daenerys nevertheless felt her heart pound heavily within her chest.
Everything written there suited her life and present condition all too well.
***
Ah, how beautiful the endless grasslands of the Dothraki Sea had been! The fresh wind scented with wild grasses, the bright sun, the soft earth warmed beneath her feet. At first it had not been easy to grow accustomed to the customs of the horselords, yet once she learned their tongue and found her place amongst them, life had begun to shine with new colours.
Her first true companion — Jorah Mormont.
Her first love — the stern and mighty Khal Drogo.
She had melted within his arms and embraces, and knew what sort of man truly hid beneath the savage silence and fearsome exterior…
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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