Ellena
For a moment, Ellena had to pause and consider Wimp's offer. He smiled a wide, almost goofy smile and despite his odd behaviour and the general lack of trust she had for him, it was admittedly a likeable expression. As far as pirates went, she'd take him over that monster Marak without question. Perhaps they could indeed be honest to each other. Besides, it was not that she had any problem with ratting Noelle out to the man she sent her to spy on.
Finally, she nodded. “Fine, I'll bite”, she gave in and Wimp chuckled enthusiastically. “Splendid!”, he exclaimed. “Now, tell me everything, all the details. Who are you working for?” As she opened her mouth to reply, Wimp cut her off. “Before you say anything...”, he began and he reached into his pocket. He pulled something out and held it close to the torch so that she could see it. “I bet you this coin that I can guess whom you're working for”
Ellena raised an eyebrow. It was a coin, alright, but none she had ever seen before. That was quite unusual. In her old life, the one she thought about only when she slept or on particularly bad days, she had often helped her father sort his earnings. As a merchant, he had customers from all over the Free Cities, many of whom would pay in their own currency. She had seen the square iron coins from her home in Braavos, the oval-shaped coins from Lys or the triangular currency the Qohoriks used for their trade. This one however was round, but with a hollow square in its centre, giving it an irregular shape. There were fine engravings on it, but in the darkness, she could not make out any details.
“That's an odd one”, she admitted. “Where's it from?” Wimp gave her a wink. “Honestly? I got no idea”, he revealed. “Found that one by accident on the shores of Sothoryos. We, uh, kinda stranded there that one time, crazy story, but anyways, I wandered down the beach, thought it was a seashell at first, so you can probably guess how surprised I was to find a coin in the sand. A couple actually, probably washed ashore. Turns out, no man I've ever met knew where these came from. I mean, not that I asked every man I ever met, but I asked at least... seven” He shrugged. “I'm quite sure at least half of them were experts on coin. Two bandits, a pirate and, worst of all, one banker”, he explained. “And now I'm willing to part with one of these mystery coins if you take the bet”
“And what if you win?”, Ellena asked, her eyes narrowed. Wimp's smile meanwhile widened. “Oh, thanks for reminding me!”, he exclaimed. “And I know exactly what I want. If I win, I want you to deliver a couple messages for me when the time is right, you understand?” Ellena crossed her arms. “What sort of messages?”, she asked, hoping she could get this oddly chatty man to talk a bit more about his plans.
“Oh, nothing dangerous, I assure you”, he spoke and his tone sounded honest enough. “It wouldn't even be my messages, but Gregor's. See, the way I see it, you're a respectable handmaiden to the queen, whereas there's nothing respectable about Gregor and his crew as far as these pompous dragonlords are concerned” He tilted his head. “We got us a deal?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine”, she spoke. “We got us a deal. Make your guess” Wimp looked genuinely excited for a moment. “Alright, alright, I got this!”, he exclaimed. “So... you're not working for the scary queen and not for Lord Goat either” He mumbled something to himself, before smiling widely. “You are working for the gentle queen!”
“You know she's her handmaiden, right?”, Asher remarked and Wimp shrugged. “Yeah, and she's spying for her”, he claimed again. “I get the feeling Rhaenys isn't as innocent as she likes to be seen. Bet she's got quite some corpses in her closet. I say she sent you to spy on Gregor” He and Ellena looked at each other, before the girl shot him a wide smirk. “You lost”, she told him.
Wimp sighed, but to his credit, he handed her the coin without complaining. Ellena felt a slight shiver running down her spine as she touched it. The coin was cold to the touch, colder than it should be after spending so much time in Wimp's hand and even though she clenched it, it did not seem to get any warmer. “Now I'm curious”, the pirate admitted. “Neither of the queens, not Velaryon either... you mean to tell me there's another one who could bear a grudge against Gregor?”
Ellena gave him a nod. “I'm spying for Noelle”, she revealed and Wimp did not seem to recognize the name, judging by his confused expression. “The Red Priestess”, she clarified and now he raised an eyebrow. “Now, that's surprising!”, he exclaimed. “But what reason would that lady have to spy on my friend? Gregor ain't the religious type, you know” His smile faded. “Is it still about that thing from Volantis? Because I can assure you, it's been all a big misunderstanding. That guy did not look like a red priest, he did stuff to those boys no priest, red or otherwise, should be doing and we paid good coin for any permanent injury that... man quite definitely suffered”
“I... what?”, Ellena asked, but Wimp dodged the question and she was too confused to push further. “So, the Red Priestess, huh?”, he asked. “Why would a lady this fine send you to spy on my captain? You know there's easier ways to meet him...” Ellena cut him off before he could elaborate. “She thinks he has ill intention for the king”, she spoke and Wimp raised an eyebrow. “Why would she ever think such a thing?”, he asked in genuine confusion. “Gregor never had ill intention for anyone his entire life. Well, there would be his father, probably his former king, also Anturion, all three of them...” He shrugged. “Alright, I can see how she gets the impression”
Ellena opened her mouth to speak, but Wimp cut her off. “Say, this Noelle...”, he began. “Damn fine woman, I must say. Then again, redheads are my only weakness. Wouldn't mind showing her my Lord of Light, if you know what I mean” He paused. “Seriously, I hope you don't know what I mean”, he added. “But whatever happened to her face? Still quite pretty and a body to gut a man for, but looks like someone beat her to a pulp” His smile faded. “Unless she was born with a crooked nose”, he spoke. “Gregor's got a soft spot for those who were born unfortunate and I suppose he rubbed off on me”
Briefly, Ellena could not suppress a grim smile as she thought back to that night. Not Terroma, she could not afford to think of him right now. But Raenna, atop the red priestess, nearly bashing her head in with her bare fists... that memory would never get old. “A dragon did it”, she told him and Wimp chuckled in disbelief. “My, those dragons...”, he mumbled. “Dangerous beasts, putting castles and armies to the torch, beating innocent preacher women to near death” He shrugged. “Guess I can still be surprised”
He turned around and his erratic way of talking had left the girl confused and slightly dizzy. “Well, I am glad that's out of the way”, he spoke. “Was really great meeting you, but I gotta go now. Gregor will want to hear this” He gave her a wink. “So, thanks a lot!”, he added. “And don't forget that me and Gregor, we ain't your enemy”
She nodded and mumbled a half-hearted goodbye, as Asher cleared his throat. “You've been forgetting about something, Wimp!”, he called out for him and the strange man stopped right away. He turned around, not with the look of sheepish guilt she would have expected, but with a mischievous grin. And then she realized what had almost happened. “You haven't told her why Gregor is here in Dragonstone”
As Wimp walked back, Ellena began to see him in a different light. His odd behaviour, fast way of talking, the utter amount of nonsense he managed to press into one sentence, all of it made him seem almost like a lackwit. But there was something in his eye, just a glint that made her realize she had to be wary of him. Perhaps he bore no ill intention, but Wimp was a lot smarter than she had given him credit for. He had confused her on purpose, then almost wriggled himself out of telling her anything actually useful.
“Ah, sorry”, he spoke. “My bad, I tend to forget things all the time. Drives Gregor mad, I'm telling ya!” He paused a moment. “Anyways... about him and his reason for being here...”, he began, before he shrugged. “Sorry, but you gotta ask him for that” Without breaking eye contact, he began to back off, as Ellena shot him a glare. “You gotta be kidding me!”, she exclaimed.
A moment passed, then another, until Wimp broke into a gleeful chuckle. “Just messing with ya!”, he spoke quickly, still chuckling as if he had told a hilarious joke. Ellena narrowed her eyes. She did not find anything about him funny at all. In fact, realizing how easily he had tricked her, she was deeply unsettled by how genuine he acted as a fool. “Drop the act and tell me what I want to know”, she hissed.
The man rolled his eyes. “You really look like you're about to cry, little girl”, he spoke and Ellena clenched her fists. “I'm not!”, she exclaimed, but even she noticed her voice was a bit shaky. Wimp sighed. “Whatever... Listen, Gregor is not here to, dunno, conspire against the king or something”, he claimed. “He wasn't entirely upfront about his reasons either, but he did not lie. We had many good years at sea, no master above us, going wherever we want, doing whatever we want. Those idiots at Merman's Rest, they had too much freedom for their own good. They value it even over their own lives. Gregor's a lot smarter than them. Smartest man I know, in fact” Now, Wimp seemed almost sad for a moment. “He knows our golden age has passed. Now it's either bending the knee or burning and Gregor's always been terribly bad at the latter”
“You said there's more than just him wanting to survive?”, Ellena asked and Wimp gave her a nod. “Oh yes, though what he said to the king is true as well”, the man replied. “He does want to stand on the winning side when this is all over. But more than that, he wants to support Aegon when he conquers Harlaw”
“He's got a grudge against his own house”, Asher deduced and Ellena, who knew not too much of the noble houses of the Ironborn, simply nodded in agreement. Wimp's smile faded into a thin smirk. “Harlaw Hall is home for me and him both”, he spoke. “Was home at least, though it's never been a good one. Old Lord Harrion, he's to blame for that. And Black Harren wronged my captain just as well. Aegon Targaryen might be the only chance we have in our lifetime to take revenge on both of them”
And now it all made sense. Ellena understood revenge quite well. Though she had given up hope of ever finding the soft-spoken assassin, the man who killed her father, she felt no different whenever she looked at Noelle. Perhaps revenge was enough even for a pirate to bend the knee to a king. “I understand”, she mumbled in a quiet tone and Wimp's smile faded entirely. “I really hoped you wouldn't”, he spoke, almost with empathy in his voice. “But yeah, that's all. I'll get going, else Serysha gets suspicious” He gave them a nod. “Good meeting. Asher, come around any time. And girl, if you need help, you can always ask me”, he spoke, as he turned around. “I'm not as dangerous as I look”
“But you don't look very...”, Ellena began, though Wimp was already gone, leaving her and Asher behind. She looked after him, before she sighed and turned to the boy. “What a strange man...”, she mumbled. Asher chuckled at her words. “That's one way of putting it”, he spoke. “Perhaps he worships his captain a bit too much, but I'll be damned if he isn't the smartest of the entire bunch”
“Do you believe him?”, Ellena asked and after a moment, Asher gave her a nod. “I think I do”, he admitted. “Do you think it was wise being honest with him? The red priestess could get into trouble now” Ellena merely looked at him, before she shrugged. “I don't care”, she replied and the boy folded his arms over his chest, as he leant against the stable wall. “You know, you seem quite callous over the fate of that woman. All I know is, you wouldn't be here if not for her”
Ellena narrowed her eyes. “Well, you don't know half of it!”, she hissed and immediately, her expression softened again as she noticed the surprised, somewhat startled look on Asher's face. “I'm sorry...”, she mumbled. “I shouldn't take this out on you. Without your help, I wouldn't have gotten this talk”
Asher's sly grin returned. “I know, I know”, he replied. “I'm basically a hero now” Ellena rolled her eyes. “You're an idiot”, she stated. “But still... thank you” She took a curtsy in front of him and Asher chuckled. “You wanna thank me?”, he asked. “Don't ever do that curtsy again. I think I just died a little inside. Maybe, get some advice from Hemys or something” He shrugged. “Just saying”
Instead of protesting, Ellena merely smirked. “See you later, asshole”, she stated warmly, before she turned to the keep. Noelle had to hear about what she just learned. Though she hardly felt any sympathy for the priestess, she could agree with her cause. Helping House Targaryen meant helping Rhaenys and the queen was just about the only person who had shown her nothing but warmth since she had arrived in Dragonstone. Ellena owed her that much and more.
As she entered the nightly keep, Ellena felt a chill running down her spine. She had left Asher at the stables and Wimp was likely back at the gatehouse, where he and his pirates had gotten their tiny quarters. Ellena herself had helped the servants by cleaning out an old storage room earlier. It was in this moment, all alone, that she realized how unnerving this castle actually was. She had seen the castle of Raylansfair and the Hightower from afar and on her way east, she and Noelle had passed the beautiful palace of Highgarden.
Dragonstone, by comparison, felt utterly alien to her. It was unlike the lavish estates of the Braavosi nobility she had grown up in and certainly nothing like the castles the Westerosi had built. They say the old Valyrians used dragonfire and sorcery to construct these smooth, dark walls and as she moved her hand over it, she could almost feel the power that had went into this place.
Furthermore, she felt watched. It was just an odd feeling at first, as she crept through these dark halls. The moonlight that fell through the high windows was just enough to make out the way in front of her, but it cast deep shadows into every corner. And sometimes, just sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, it seemed they moved ever so slightly.
With clenched fists, the girl made haste. She vaguely knew the way to Noelle's chamber, though the darkness turned the hallway into a gloomy maze. Her heart began to beat faster, as she tried to make as little sound as possible, silently navigating through the shadows, while listening to any noise that might indicate she was actually being followed. Though she heard nothing, she couldn't shake off the feeling that there was someone nearby.
“H... hello?”, she finally managed to ask. No one was following her, what a silly notion! This was Dragonstone, King Aegon's seat, protected by three dragons. It was quite certainly the safest place in all Westeros right now. If anyone was here, it was likely a wandering guard, someone who could point her into the right direction. There used to be a time where she would have been afraid of the dark, but not anymore. Terroma had taught her to be braver than that.
“Is anyone there?”, she asked again, loudly this time, her thin voice echoing through the hallway. Immediately, fear overcame her and she pressed herself into one of the alcoves, next to some large, dark tapestry. As she stood there, trying and failing to regulate her breath, she finally heard the sound she had been listening for. Footsteps at last, slowly shuffling down the hallway, something heavy moving over the carpet.
In the darkness, she could hardly make out any details, but she saw a large shadow walking around the corner, looking around slowly, methodically. Was it looking for someone... looking for her. She clenched her fists harder and began to tremble, as this shadow slowly came closer. It barely looked like a human in the darkness...
And suddenly, as terror overcame her, she let out a gasp. Immediately, the figure flinched and jumped back, letting out a short, terrified and surprisingly high-pitched scream. As it stumbled into the light, she realized that the figure was indeed a person, a man to be precise, albeit a heavily obese one, holding a satchel in his left hand. He seemed faintly familiar, though she needed a moment to recognize him by his long, reddish-grey hair, the well-trimmed goatee and the puffy face with the small eyes and comparably large ears. Sneaking through the nightly castle was none other than Visedar Solus, advisor to the king.
“Seven hells!”, the man exclaimed, not quite as lordly as she would have expected. Indeed, he spat onto the carpet, though he swiftly regained his composure. “A little girl!” He shook his head, though his body language showed he was still very much on the edge. “Don't you know it is indecent to sneak up on a man of my status?”, he hissed, before he sighed. “Ah, who am I asking? Of course you wouldn't know!”
Ellena gulped, as she stepped from the shadows and into the moonlight. “Apologies, Lord Solus”, she stated firmly and the man narrowed his already small eyes. The wart on his upper lip trembled and she was certain she had given him a bad scare. “Nevermind”, he said, still eyeing her with suspicion. “You are Queen Rhaenys' new pet, aren't you? The Braavosi”
His tone was not just impolite, it was downright condescending. She had heard of such people before from the stories her father had told her about Westeros. There were lords, no matter how small and insignificant, who treated every lowborn with contempt, no matter how decorated and wealthy said lowborn was. Visedar struck her as one of those. Her father had also told her that these were the dangerous ones and as such, where she would have loved to reply with spite, she forced herself to smile politely.
“I'm her new handmaiden, yes”, she confirmed. “Ellena. Ellena Terys” Visedar rolled his eyes. “Good for you, Ellena Ellena Terys”, he replied. “Our queen is soft-hearted and lenient with the servants, but let me give you some well-meaning advice. This castle has its limits for your kind. You can't just walk around where it pleases you at night, startling good folk”
She sighed and rolled her eyes, an expression she was pretty sure he wouldn't notice in the darkness. “I'm sorry, mylord”, she stated, feigning respect and it seemed to have the intended effect. “I did not mean to startle you. I was on my way to meet with Lady Noelle and I must have lost my way. This place is a maze”
Slowly calming down, Visedar managed to sport a benign smile, as he carefully mustered her. “Yes, I suppose all of this must be quite different from the place you grew up in”, he spoke. “Very well, I accept your apology” He seemed to consider something, before shrugging and coming a little bit closer, now visibly more relaxed than before. “Actually, you are not even entirely wrong. Surely there would have been easier ways for you to reach the red priestess, but you were on the right way at least”, he revealed. “I have business of my own to attend to in that part of the castle. If you ask nicely, I could be convinced to accompany you for part of the way”
Ellena took a deep breath. The man smelled of expensive perfume and heavy layers of sweat beneath. It was a revolting combination, but she kept her polite smile. “I would appreciate it, Lord Solus”, she replied and the man smirked all of a sudden. The gesture looked a bit odd on his chubby face and immediately, she came to regret her decision to accept his help. “It'll be my pleasure, little girl”, he spoke in a generous tone as he pointed down the hallway. “Come. It's not too far from here”
He offered his hand and hesitantly, she grabbed it, immediately feeling his strong, sweaty grip and his surprisingly cold fingers. She tried to pull back out of reflex, only to realize he firmly clenched her hand in his. Just as she gave him a mildly panicked glare, another man cleared his throat from behind them, startling both.
Almost in unison, Visedar and Ellena jumped around, the man even let out a scream, though Ellena at least managed to break free of his grip. “Now, I wouldn't do that if I were you”, a deep, male voice called out from the darkness and slowly, a shadow approached them. The man was just as tall as Visedar, but in much better shape and as he came closer, she recognized none other than Gregor Harlaw, the man she had been sent to spy on to begin with.
“I'm meaning both of you, if you were wondering”, he spoke and he crossed his arms over his bare chest, only covered by his sleeveless longcoat. Slowly, he approached and this time, Ellena noticed that Visedar flinched. The obese man looked around, as if he was searching for a way out. “And I didn't mean to startle you either”, Gregor added, before he gave Ellena a polite nod. “Mylady”
With this, he turned to Visedar. “And you are.... Walton?”, he spoke, to which Visedar's eyes widened. “I am Lord Visedar Solus, how dare you!”, he spat. “Pirate!” Gregor shrugged and he stopped just in front of them. “Just saying, cause your nose, it really screams 'Walton' to me. You sure that's not your name?”, he replied, completely ignoring the aggravated, yet strangely scared look on Lord Solus' face.
“What are you doing here, pirate?”, Visedar finally managed to press through his teeth and Gregor tilted his head. “Me? Oh, I wanted to talk to you”, he told him firmly. “Been following you for the last couple minutes, though I didn't want to sneak up on you like that. A man of your age and... shape, sure your heart's not as good as it used to be, eh?” He glanced at the satchel Visedar still held in his left hand. “Say, what are you doing around here so late at night?
This time, a look of sheepish guilt flashed over Visedar's face. “I don't see how this is possibly any concern of yours, but if you have to know...”, he spoke and opened his satchel. At first, Ellena couldn't see what was inside, but then he reached into it, pulling out... a plain loaf of bread. “The wife doesn't appreciate me eating so much, so I gotta sneak out at night for a bite”, he revealed.
Gregor couldn't contain a chuckle. “And you settle for dry bread? My, what a lord you are”, he replied. “But I can't say I don't understand. I saw your wife at dinner. Or maybe it was your second daughter, but in that case the way you had your arm wrapped around her would have been indecent even by my standards. She's... what? Half your age?”
Visedar tensed up and even in the gloomy moonlight, she saw that the lord was blushing with anger. “The gods have blessed me with a youthful wife after the untimely death of my first love”, he spoke, his tone forcibly controlled. “Surely your kind won't judge me for being a man with needs” Gregor shook his head. “I would never dare”, he replied. “Though I bet she's a woman with needs as well and... please don't take that personally, but if your face is any indicator, then I doubt it's all in working order down there” An impish grin flashed over his face. “As I said, no offence”
This time, the lord growled in frustration, whereas Ellena was genuinely confused for a moment. The way Gregor just spoke to the nobleman... it could cost him his head and yet he was here, talking, openly insulting Visedar with visible glee, as if he knew him. Yes, as if he knew him better than the lord wanted to admit. It would explain the strange fear in Visedar's eyes. He was not startled by Gregor's mere presence, but rather by the man himself. And though he was an impressive sight, the pirate looked hardly terrifying.
“I could have your tongue for that, Harlaw”, Visedar growled and Gregor shrugged. “What for?”, he asked. “I never said a thing to you, didn't I?” He glanced at Ellena and the girl understood at once. “Not a thing”, she replied and the pirate gave her a wink. “Clever”, he complimented her. “I like you... Queen Rhaenys' handmaiden, aren't you?”
She nodded. “Yes, I'm Ellena Terys... mylord?”, she replied, unsure how to address him. Gregor chuckled, though his expression grew slightly more serious. “Just Gregor will be fine”, he told her calmly. “What is a girl your age doing here at night with Lard Solus?” Visedar opened his mouth to protest, but there it was again. He seemed hesitant to even just speak up in Gregor's presence. And the way he looked at him was familiar. What business had a Westerosi lord with an Ironborn pirate?
“I was on my way to meet Lady Noelle”, Ellena replied truthfully and Gregor's smirk faded. He shot Visedar an almost vicious glare. “And he was going to take you there? Down that hallway?”, he growled, to which she nodded again. “Then why was he about to lead you into the wrong direction?” His tone was sharp, cutting even, and Visedar's eyes widened. Slowly, Ellena realized what he just implied.
“It... it's not the wrong direction!”, he protested, but he cut himself off as Gregor placed a hand on his shoulder. “I'll get to you in a moment, Lord Solus”, he spoke and somehow, he made the man's full title sound like a curse. “Vis... I can call you Vis, right? Vizzy? No?” Visedar still mumbled something to himself and if anything, he looked almost embarrassed. Not ashamed, no, but embarrassed at being caught.
The pirate shrugged and looked back at Ellena. “I know where she's got her quarters because she caught Wimp's eye earlier and he just had to tell me everything about her”, he explained. “Dunno what he sees in her though. Why would I ever settle for a candle when there's a sun to chase?” He pointed over his shoulder. “In any way, she's got her room near the servant's quarters. Head that way for a bit, until you reach a large staircase to your left. You should know your way around a little bit by now, so I'm sure you'll find it from there”
Ellena gulped and she noticed that her hands were still clenched, her gaze fixed on Visedar, who was avoiding her glare. “Thank you, Gregor”, she said and the pirate chuckled. “You can thank me by telling your queen how helpful I was”, he spoke. “I like making new friends. You, maybe Rhaenys, certainly Vizzy over here!” He patted the fat man's cheek. “On your way then, little Ellena”, he said and she flinched at the sentence. “Give me and Lord Solus some space” He glared at the lord. “We have to do a proper talk. Grown up stuff, you wouldn't understand a thing”
“Yeah, I get it”, Ellena spoke, even though she had questions upon questions. For the time being, however, she preferred to get away from both men as fast as possible. “I'll better get going. Good night!” She turned away from them and with shaky feet, she did her first step. Her hands were painfully tense by now and still trembling.
“Girl!”, Visedar called after her and she stopped in her tracks, glancing over her shoulder and right at him. “This... this is a misunderstanding!”, he spoke and his voice was shivering. “You have to believe me!” She managed to give him a half-hearted nod, before smiling at Gregor and turning back to the way he just told her to take. “I'm sure I understand perfectly, Lord Solus”, she replied. “Good luck with your talk”
Then, she left the two men behind and swiftly walked back where she had come from. Behind her, she heard them mumbling something, but this time, even Gregor made sure to keep his voice down. She stopped and as she glanced over her shoulder, they were gone, undoubtedly vanished down some adjacent hallway. Now, with some distance between her and them, she leant against a wall and sighed heavily, trying to calm her shaking hands.
In this moment, an idea flashed through her mind. They were expecting her to go on her way to meet with Noelle. Quite clearly they were discussing something of great importance right now, maybe even giving her a hint at Gregor's true reason for being here in Dragonstone. He and Visedar seemed to know each other and if anything, the fat lord had quite a secret of his own. This could be her only chance to uncover his secret. At the same time, he did come to her aid when Lord Solus tried to... frankly, she refused to even imagine what that revolting man wanted to do. Was it really wise to push her luck once more by spying on them now?
[Go and meet Noelle] [Attempt to spy on Gregor and Visedar]
Jaron
Quietly, Jaron leant against the railing that separated the first floor of the mansion from the basement. Behind the grand staircase was a large window facade that allowed a generous view into the mansion's garden. It was almost a small forest of tall willow trees, between which a narrow path led past a series of ancient statues. Marble benches, even a small pool of dark water... it was beautiful.
And yet, Jaron found no peace as he stared at the serene scenery. He had agreed to kill a man he didn't even know, all so that a woman he didn't even trust would hopefully help him with finding a woman he wasn't even sure was still alive. In moments like this, he felt at his lowest. It felt surreal that just a little under two years ago, Ser Matthos had knighted him. Had made him swear an oath to be just, to be brave. And yet, in the world he had seen since then, there had been little bravery and even less justice.
He clenched a fist and slammed it down onto the marble railing in frustration. He had killed before, to defend himself or the ones he cared for. But this was something else entirely. He would do this and he was not sure if there was a way back for him, back to how he used to be. And yet, he had to do it. The thought of Harpy in Abbas' clutches, it was unbearable. Losing his honour, betraying his knightly vows, it was a harsh price to pay, but he was willing to go that far, if only... if only it would be worth it in the end. The only thing worse than losing her would be losing her and himself just as well.
In the end, it had to be worth it. It had to end well, or else... He frowned as he remembered Robb. It felt like the man had died years ago when in fact just a few months had passed. Back then, Jaron had a hard time understanding him. But now, he saw a lot of Robb in his own reflection. A struggling man, on the verge of losing himself to the darkness around him. That's how Robb used to be. If this would all be for nothing, then Jaron feared how much worse he himself could become. Perhaps he should ask Harrington about it, for it seems the man had been through a similar journey himself.
He frowned slightly as the door behind him got opened. Lysara and Bazaeya had continued their talk in private, with only the latter's manservant Zixun present for the details of their agreement. And yet, while Harrington and especially Arryn had been glad to accept the lady's offer of free drinks and a proper meal in the kitchen, Jaron had preferred some time alone. Time, it seemed, which he would not get.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw an unmistakable mane of silvery hair, as Lysara Rogare leant against the railing, resting her elbows on it as she glanced at him. There was a satisfied smirk on her face. “You did well in there, my knight”, she complimented him, as she placed a hand on his shoulder. Jaron was quick to shake it off. “I'm not your knight”, he growled.
Immediately, her smirk faded. “My assassin then?”, she asked and Jaron frowned. “This is the first and only favour you'll ever get from me”, he clarified. His choice of words caused her to chuckle. “Silly Westerosi”, she spoke and somehow, she made it sound affectionate. “That is more than a simple favour. You do that and I will be in your debt” She narrowed her eyes. “You realize what that means, do you?”
The hedge knight rolled his eyes. “I understand your family is richer than I could possibly imagine”, he spoke. “Don't count me impressed” She flashed him a grin, actually warm enough for him to smirk. “I don't intend to impress you with my families wealth”, she replied. “In fact, I don't intend to impress you at all. You however...” She raised an eyebrow, as she pressed her back against the railing.
“I know, I have that effect on people”, Jaron replied and she sighed. “Dry humour doesn't suit you though”, she told him firmly. “I must admit, I was wary of you. The rest of your little posse is easy to deal with. I got Aidan by the balls, much as he would never admit it. John and Temari are sellswords, Arryn is even indebted to my family. And Samuel Harrington, that's a name even this side of the Narrow Sea has already heard from” Once more, she mustered him from head to toe. “You however... you are a knight”, she added. “I have met your kind before and I found them to be terribly rigid in their views. Inflexible in an ever-changing world”
“We're not all like that”, he claimed and the woman gave him a nod. “As I have just seen”, she agreed. “To my defence, I did not know what Bazaeya was planning when she called me here. I suspected she had a scheme going on, though I underestimated her ambition” She shrugged. “Regardless, I knew your companions would help me. I suspect both have killed for coin before. You however? I expected you to protest, to decline even”
“And then what?”, Jaron growled. “I've been in the largest city in all Westeros, but Volantis makes it look like a hamlet. I could never hope to find Abbas and Harpy in this city. Not with John, not with Harrington, not even in a hundred years” He sighed. “I need you and Lady Bazaeya. If that means doing things your way, things I would have never even considered a few months ago, then it still sounds like a good price to pay” Briefly, his gaze met hers, though he immediately shifted his attention back at the garden. A group of children was playing beneath the willows by now and even from afar, he could make out the slave collars around their necks. “If it's needed to save Harpy, I'd cut through all three of the triarchs”
“She sounds like a truly special woman”, Lysara spoke calmly and he gave her a nod. “She is to me”, he told her, just before he noticed the expression on her face. “You're smiling?” Her smile widened as he commented on it. “I do that sometimes, yes”, she confirmed. “Contrary to what Aidan might have told you, I am not heartless. I have a soft spot for young love”
“Soft enough to help me?”, Jaron asked and she chuckled. “Only if you help me first”, she admitted. “But your willingness to do so is certainly admirable” She gave him a curious glance. “You have doubts”, she deduced. “Not unexpected. Many have them before they kill their first man, for coin that is... or so I have been told. Let me ease your troubled mind a bit”
She turned around, now also facing the garden. “I know a few things about Irrario Paenys and be sure of it, in this whole city, it couldn't have been a more deserving target”, she told him. Immediately, Jaron understood what she was trying to do. A few months ago, it would have worked, but he had learned enough from the Burned Man to see that she was trying to make him feel better about something he should, by all means, feel conflicted about. She was trying to paint the triarch in a bad light, possibly a worse than he truly deserved.
“Tell me about him”, he requested nonetheless. Lysara sighed. “Where to begin? It is no secret that many of my kind harbour a deep-seated conviction that they are better than those not of valyrian descent. Irrario is one of them. He genuinely believes all non-Valyrians are beneath him”, she explained. “That, while terribly outdated, is hardly the worst thing about him. No, he is a tiger through and through and that means he yearns for war. Though he is outnumbered by two elephants among the triarchs, sooner or later he will sway them and get the bloodshed he desires”
Jaron shook his head. “The Free Cities will tear this city apart if he tries something like that”, he spoke, repeating what Aidan had told him on their journey. Lysara smiled and she looked almost pleased in this moment. “Only if he starts a war with one of the Free Cities”, she clarified. “There's plenty of land to the east. Mantarys and Tolos would be easy to take and then, the First Daughter would come to blows with the slaver cities. She will win, of course, but how many lives will be claimed by this? I know your knightly oath, but if you truly wish to protect the innocent, protect them from war. Protect them from Irrario Paenys”
“You don't have to convince me”, Jaron growled. “I already agreed” Lysara fully turned towards him. “And yet you are struggling”, she spoke. “Alas, you will meet Irrario soon enough, perhaps then you will stop doubting your decision. Your friend Samuel has some experience on the topic, so he will provide the three of you with a cover story”
“Figures”, Jaron replied and this time, Lysara's expression changed. To his surprise, she stopped smiling and for a moment she seemed anything but pleased with the situation. “And if that doesn't help, the reward most certainly will”, she promised him. “See, you surprised me by agreeing to support the interests of the Rogare bank here in Volantis, so I decided to surprise you as well” She clapped her hands. “Zixun, please”
Like a trained dog, Lady Bazaeya's favoured slave appeared in the door, his hands crossed behind his back. His face sported a pleased, suave smile, as he slowly approached them. “You have called, Lady Rogare”, he stated, before he stopped at Jaron's other side. “I take it this is about what we discussed?”
Lysara gave him a nod, before she looked back at Jaron. “I told you before, my family earns a fortune through slavery, but it doesn't mean we know every slaver in Essos”, she replied. “So, I decided to make an inquiry with Lady Bazaeya. Maybe, I figured, she heard of him and knows where he might be right now”
Zixun chuckled mildly. “As if my lady would ever deal with this... Abbas”, he spoke. “Frankly, he doesn't sound important enough to even be tolerated within the Black Walls. Most of the Old Blood ignore the upstarts from Slaver's Bay” Jaron raised an eyebrow. “But?”, he asked, figuring that Lysara wouldn't have called the slave here just to tell him they had no idea how to help him.
“But luckily, there is one who has specialized in dealing with dregs from Slaver's Bay, as well as the honourable men and women who dwell within this part of the city. He lived here in the city once, but has since moved several miles up the Rhoyne, where he owns a modest mansion”, Zixun continued. “This man's name is Goranero Sanys, he's a very distant business partner of Lady Bazaeya, but she nonetheless spoke highly of him. Here in Volantis, he is your best shot at finding the man you're looking for”
“You just learned a name”, Lysara told him. “Even if you opt out of doing this little favour for me, I won't stop you from seeking answers from Goranero on your own. That said, I bet he'll be more willing to comply with a formal inquiry from Lady Bazaeya” She and Zixun exchanged a glance and the slave spoke up again. “My lady will call him over while you perform the task she has given you”, he promised. “Do it admirably and she will allow you a conversation with him, as long as you desire. She will even cover any expenses necessary to convince Goranero to help you”
Jaron's eyes widened. “Awfully kind”, he replied, though deep down, he had to suppress a smile. He was far from happy with the circumstances, but this could be what he needed. Help from one of Volantis' most powerful and from the heiress of the Rogare bank. “I may have misjudged you, Lady Lysara” The woman laughed brightly. “Don't forget that I'll be getting something out of this just as well”, she told him. “A proper trade deal to help my city and my father's favour to help my position within the family”
She gave him a wink. “That being said, I have always been fond of stories like yours”, she added and Jaron slowly raised an eyebrow. “Stories like mine?”, he asked, genuinely dumbfounded at the prospect of someone writing stories about him. “The bastard knight who crosses the world to save his beloved from the clutches of a dastardly villain...”, Lysara spoke wistfully. “I have read such a story a hundred times. Usually, it ends well” She placed a hand on his chest and they locked eyes. To Jaron's surprise, he saw a hint of genuine warmth in her ever-present smile. “For your sake and for that of your Lady Harpy, I hope yours does too”, she told him. “Truly, I do”
He gulped and gently shook her hand off, before he gave her a nod. “If it does, it won't be without your help”, he replied. “I'm going to kill this man, not for you, not for Lady Bazaeya, but for Harpy” Lysara sighed. “I wouldn't want it any other way, Ser Bastard”, she told him. “Now go, meet up with your companions. Perhaps Samuel has come up with some useful plan by now, or maybe you can at least stop Arryn from emptying Lady Bazaeya's wine cellar”
“I'll lead you to them”, Zixun offered and Jaron gladly accepted. He turned to Lysara and gave her the tiniest of bows. He couldn't say that his trust in this woman had dramatically increased after this talk, but he understood her a bit better. What she wanted, what she needed him for, even if he was still doubting her apparent fondness for his tale. The dress she wore right now, a beautiful mixture of silvery silk and golden chains, woven into corset in stylized scales, it was worth more than anything he ever possessed in his life. His mother barely owned a room in the brothel he grew up in. Lysara's family practically owned a city. He doubted a woman like her could feel any genuine fondness for someone so far below her.
“This way”, Zixun spoke and with swift steps, he led the hedge knight through the gloomy mansion. The man from Yi Ti carried himself with a grace and confidence that was strange for a slave. In fact, he walked around as if he owned the place. “Are you truly a slave?”, Jaron had to ask as they reached the basement, now walking past the massive window that overlooked the garden.
Zixun chuckled softly. “What an odd question”, he replied. “Can you not see my collar?” He moved a hand to his neck, where a thin bracelet hung. It was most certainly lighter than the massive chains he had seen around the necks of some slaves here in Volantis and probably more comfortable as well. In fact, it was barely notable and could pass off as a piece of jewelry.
“Though I can see why you get the impression”, the man continued. “See, it is easy for a free man to consider all slaves equal in their misery. That is not true at all” He spread his arms. “Look around you. Lady Bazaeya is no more or less free than you are, but only a fool would ever believe she and you stand on the same level. It is similar with slaves. You have those who waste away in a mine, those who are beaten and broken by their masters. And then you have those who are like me”
“Favourites...”, Jaron mumbled and Zixun gave him a nod. “It's not a bad life if you carve out a niche for yourself”, the slave replied. “And my lady is a generous woman. I know very well my life could have been different. With looks like mine, half the masters in this city would have sold me to a high-class brothel. I am fortunate Bazaeya recognized my many talents and decided to keep me for herself”
“You're warming her bed”, Jaron deduced and Zixun's mouth tightened only a little bit. “Obviously”, he replied. “She is generous to those who please her, in one way or another and I am truly fortunate to be hers” They walked past a flight of stairs and from down there, Jaron heard soft sobbing. This time, Zixun stopped and he slightly rolled his eyes. “One moment, please”, he spoke. “We'll take this way”
Instead of continuing down the hallway, he instead turned left and led the knight down the stairs and into a spacious cellar. At its bottom sat a young girl, with tears streaming down her face. He recognized her by her red hair as the one who had brought them refreshments earlier during the talk with Lady Bazaeya. “Melony!”, Zixun exclaimed, though he sounded not the least bit concerned by her grief. Sobbing, the girl looked up.
“What are you doing here? And in front of the ladies guest!”, the man spoke, though to his credit, he didn't sound particularly stern either. Melony took a deep breath. “Aentihys said they are going to hurt me”, she mumbled. “The red priests” Even in the damp twilight down here in the cellar, Jaron could see that she was trembling. “I don't want to serve them”
“Aentihys said that?”, Zixun spoke and just this once, his calm voice betrayed a hint of concern. “I must have a stern talk with her later. Where would she even get that from?” He knelt down next to the crying girl and awkwardly placed a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, child, the red priests would never harm you. They care deeply for all of us”, he told her, before he gave her a mild smile. “They will protect you from all who seek to harm you” He placed a hand beneath her chin and gently forced her to look him right in the eye. “Look to the light...”, he began and Melony took a deep breath. “For the night is dark and full of terrors”, she added.
Pleased by her reply, Zixun let go of her. “Now, dry your tears”, he told her. “I'll have a word with Aentihys later. And whatever you do, don't be afraid of the light” He gave Jaron a nod, before he continued on his way, simply leaving the girl like this. It wasn't until they had passed through a door, which he closed behind them, that the slave began to speak again.
“The Red Temple has expressed great interest in this child”, he spoke. “Usually, I'd be certain they'd just give her a teardrop tattoo and put her to work, but I get the feeling they have a different plan in mind. In any way, I should not doubt their intentions” Jaron raised an eyebrow. “You are a follower of R'hllor?”, he asked and Zixun nodded. “Most slaves are”, he spoke. “Even quite a few of the Old Blood. Lady Bazaeya for example, she introduced me to the faith. Her ties to the red temple are exceptional”
Finally, he opened a door that led to a large wine cellar. Arryn and Samuel sat there at a table and despite the early hour, a slave was tending to their needs, just filling another tankard for Arryn. It clearly wasn't his first, but aside from his cheeks being more red than usual, he showed no sign of being drunken.
“Ah, Jaron!”, he exclaimed. “Come closer! I think I finally managed to crack the Fang of Shadows” He grinned, as he turned back to Samuel. “So... you sure you want to play this game? Because I'm the best at it!” Samuel merely shrugged. “Just do what you gotta do”, he replied calmly and Arryn raised his tankard. “Alright then!”, he roared. “First things first... your parents are dead”
Samuel's neutral expression remained impeccable. “Drink”, he spoke and Arryn gave him a surprised look. “Could have sworn you're an orphan. You got this gloomy orphan look”, he stated. Samuel slowly narrowed his eyes. “Drink”, he spoke and the sellsword shrugged. “Alright, alright”, he was quick to reply, as he took a deep gulp from his tankard. “Not that I'm complaining. Next guess... There's someone in Westeros whom you're missing deeply”
This time, Jaron noticed how Samuel's calm expression grew more stressed for just a second. He doubted Arryn had seen the same, but the mere fact that his act almost slipped came as a surprise. “Drink”, he growled again and Arryn gave him a nod. “Yeah, that's been a long shot”, he admitted, as he took another gulp. “The Fang of Shadows cares only for blood and coin, that's what I've heard”
“Sometimes I also settle for peace and quiet”, Samuel stated dryly. “Is this game over?” Before he could look at Jaron, Arryn slammed his tankard down onto the table, spilling almost half of it in the process, much to the chagrin of the slave who had been ordered to serve them for the day. “You regret the work you did for Butterfly”, he guessed.
Samuel shook his head and while he has clearly been lying the first two times, Jaron found it impossible to guess if that was also the case this time. “Drink”, he spoke and Arryn seemed almost impressed. “My, you are one cold-hearted bastard, you know that?”, he stated and he drank deeper from his tankard than before. Then, he narrowed his eyes. “Wait a moment...!”, he exclaimed. “Next guess! Your name is Samuel Harrington”
“Drink”, Samuel just said and with a sigh, Arryn placed the tankard on the table. “You know how the game's played, aye? I guess something about you and if I'm right, you get to drink, not I!”, the sellsword explained. Samuel merely shook his head. “That's not the game I'm playing”, he spoke calmly, before he fully turned to Jaron and Zixun.
“Ugh, you're no fun, Fang”, Arryn sighed. “That's the only thing I learned of you in two weeks. You got literally no sense of humour” Samuel raised an eyebrow. “Then you still know too much about me”, he replied, before he gave Jaron a nod. “You learned anything from Lysara?” While Jaron sat down, Zixun remained standing at the table. “You're on a first name basis, already?”, he asked.
Samuel chuckled thinly. “She reminds me of someone”, he replied. “What did she tell you? Help you find your girl once the triarch is dealt with?” Jaron gave him a nod. “And you?”, he asked in return. “Help you find your brother?” Samuel rolled his eyes. “That woman is playing us”, he stated and he threw a grim glare at Zixun, who shook his head. “Don't look at me”, the slave told him. “I'm certainly not playing you”
“She is playing us”, Samuel repeated. “And there's not a thing we can do about it. All we can hope for is that she's keeping her word” Jaron sighed. “You consider that unlikely?”, he asked and Samuel shook his head. “She is Misario Rogare's favourite daughter. I doubt she got that position because she's fond of playing fair”, he revealed. “But as I said, we cannot do a thing about it. This city is the largest I've ever been to. If Ryder or Abbas are hiding here, it could take us decades to find them without help. And Lysara is the only one who even offered her help”
Jaron gave him a grim nod. “So, we have to kill the triarch for her”, he spoke, before glancing at Zixun, who was still smiling his polite, yet unnervingly calm smile at him. “For Lady Bazaeya”, the slave corrected him and Jaron rolled his eyes. “We need to kill the triarch”, he growled. “Irrario Paenys... what do we know about him?”
Arryn chuckled. “I heard he's a dick”, he spoke. “Get it? Cause Paenys kinda sounds like...” Thankfully, Samuel cut him off in this moment. “Yes, we get it, thank you”, he growled. “Though you might not be wrong. I have heard nothing good about the man. Though he's outnumbered by the elephant triarchs, this tiger is by no means toothless. He's a war hero, the one responsible for some of the most devastating losses the other Free Cities have suffered during the war. They say only Argilac Durrandon was able to defeat him in the field and of course, he was unable to do a thing against the Black Dread when Aegon turned his attention on the Volantene army”
“So he has a good reputation”, Jaron said and Samuel gave him a nod. “Though the Volantene are exhausted from war and unlikely to ever support another one in our lifetime, Irrario is one of the few tigers who escaped the political fallout of their defeat with his reputation and dignity intact”, he confirmed. “He is the only big name the tigers still have. If we eliminate him, the entire party might collapse”
“That would actually be a shame”, Arryn interjected. “War's good for my business. Then again, maybe I retire after I'm done with this” He glanced at Jaron. “After we found your girl, I mean. I'm a man of my word”, he promised, before he took a deep gulp from his tankard. “An opportunity like that doesn't happen all the time. Doing a favour for the Rogare bank, that'll open us all the doors back in Lys”
Jaron narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure you should be drinking while we plan... this?”, he asked and Arryn chuckled. “I think better when I'm drunken”, he replied. This in return caused Samuel to slam a hand onto the table. “Well, enlighten us then”, he hissed with barely concealed anger. “What's your grand plan for killing the triarch? Drowning him in that booze you chug all day?”
To Jaron's surprise, Arryn's expression grew serious at once. “Don't push me, Fang”, he spat. “You may have killed your fair share of people in Westeros, but I'm of a different breed. Your reputation won't help you here” Samuel reacted calmly, as he merely shook his head, before exchanging a glance with Jaron. “Is he actually related to Ayden Blackwell?”, he asked. “Because I actually liked Ayden, believe it or not”
“Yeah, sometimes I ask myself the same question”, Arryn interjected. “But aye, same mother, same father. Still, I'm the handsome one” He chuckled to himself. “So, Fang, you should listen carefully, because my plan will work”, he explained. “Maybe you know such things, I bet you did them all the time for Butterfly. See, the triarch is one of the most powerful men in Volantis. He's guarded by a myriad of slave soldiers, Unsullied even, who probably even wipe his arse for him. How do we get close to such a man, you may ask yourself...”
He made a dramatic pause, until Jaron sighed. “How?”, he broke the silence and Arryn gave him a wink. “We don't”, he revealed. “Not to him, at least. But Irrario Paenys has a daughter, hasn't he?” He glanced at Zixun, who confirmed it with a nod. “Alaela”, he replied. “A sweet girl... well, almost a woman grown. She's Irrario's only child, if that makes a difference”
“All the difference in the world...”, Arryn mumbled. “So, we don't get close to Irrario, we get close to Alaela. Precisely, we abduct her. Force her father to meet us somewhere secluded, then we give him the old slice and dice. If he doesn't comply, we send him bits of sweet Alaela until he does” He looked at Samuel and raised an eyebrow. “Sounds familiar?”, he asked.
Reluctantly, Samuel gave him a nod. “That's how Butterfly would do it”, he agreed and once more, his voice made it impossible to even just guess if he was displeased by this suggestion. “It's ruthless, but just as efficient. I'm impressed, Blackwell” The sellsword chuckled. “I'm doing my best, Fang, doing my best”, he replied. “But why do I feel like you got a better idea?”
“Because I have”, Samuel told him. “It usually worked for Butterfly, but we're not him and Irrario Paenys is not a rival crimelord” He sighed. “Plus, I might want to try a different approach. Something more elegant and... certainly less traumatizing for the girl”, he admitted and this time, Jaron spotted a hint of genuine reluctance in the usually stoic man.
“What's that, Harrington?”, he asked. “You, of all people, have moral objections?” Samuel shook his head. “Not for me”, he admitted, before he narrowed his eyes. “But if you kill the triarch and scar his daughter for life, could you truly life with yourself, Ser Bastard? You and I, we have a deal. Finding my brother will be costly for you, so I want to make sure it'll be worth your effort. What good is it if you cannot even look at your girl anymore when we finally find her?” He looked from himself to Arryn Blackwell. “You don't want to become like me and that miserable drunk”
How he could say this and still keep such a calm expression, Jaron would never understand. But to his surprise, he spotted what might be a hint of genuine care in Samuel's tone. “Surprising words for a man who used to do Butterfly's wet work”, he told him. “What's your approach then? Let's hear it, then I can still decide what I want to do”
Samuel smirked. “The girl still gets to play a key role”, he revealed. “But not as a hostage, but as a key for us to open the doors to Irrario's mansion itself. While you had your chat with Lysara, I asked the slaves. Some of them used to work for Paenys before he sold them to Bazaeya. They told me a thing or two about Lady Alaela” He placed a finger on the table. “First, she has a friend”, he explained. “Nea... Thea....” He looked at Zixun for help and the slave smiled. “Bea”, he revealed. “Her father is one of the richest men in Braavos”
“Precisely”, Samuel continued. “I found out that this Bea is staying here in Volantis for a few months. Apparently some sort of cultural exchange, promoting peace and prosperity between two former enemies. She and Alaela have grown to be best friends, never apart from each other it seems” He looked back at Jaron. “And that Bea, she's a wild one. The slave I spoke to told me that she's enamoured with tales from Westeros, of noble knights and valiant duels. The spitfire wants to be a knight herself”
“So what?”, Arryn asked. “I doubt she'll kill the triarch for us even if we offer her a knighthood” Samuel rolled his eyes. “Let me continue”, he barked. “So, we have Bea, who poisons Alaela's mind all these stories about knighthood and honour and swordfighting... what does Triarch Irrario do, I ask you, when his offspring becomes fascinated with such things? That's right, he hires a swordplay tutor to beat such silly notions out of his little girl. The sooner she realizes that there's nothing romantic about knights and fighting, she can focus on being an obedient daughter again”
“He's hiring?”, Jaron deduced and Samuel gave him a nod. “So far, no tutor met his criteria. He's being quiet about it, probably embarrassed, but it's an open secret here in the city”, he continued. “Lucky for us, we have a proper knight right here. Ser Jaron Storm, bastard son of Lord Dondarrion of Blackhaven”
Jaron narrowed his eyes. “I was born in Blackhaven”, he protested. “Doesn't mean I'm Lord Dondarrion's son” He sighed, as he realized that just a few months ago, it was still something he would have very much believed in, his mother's story about how his father was a mighty lord who took a liking to her. By now, he felt the truth was much more mundane. He was just someone's bastard.
“Yeah, but Irrario doesn't have to know”, Samuel stated. “And then there's me. There's only one man on both sides of the Narrow Sea who ever beat me in a fair fight, so I'm certain I can prove myself to the triarch no matter what he throws at me” He glanced at Arryn. “And I'm certain you have some hidden value as well”, he added sharply. “So, my suggestion is, we infiltrate the mansion by applying as the new tutors. It'll get us through most of its defences and it'll give us an excuse to bring weapons past his guards”
“And you think he won't expect that?”, Arryn asked. “I expected better, Fang” He shook his head. “Abducting his daughter is still our best bet. Maybe that friend of hers as well, so he has to comply if he doesn't want to risk tensions with Braavos” He sported a crooked grin as he looked back at Jaron. “But I'm yours to command, Ser Bastard”, he proclaimed. “I say you get to choose... unless you have a better idea?”
Jaron thought about it for a moment. “Not really”, he admitted. Truth be told, he didn't like this at all. He was not a killer for hire and though he had agreed to help Lysara and Bazaeya, every fibre of his being protested against even considering his own approach to murder this man. As such, with a heavy sigh, he considered his options...
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