Kingslayer [Game of Thrones] ✓

Cold hands

Medusa Meer, surrounded by her family enters the meeting before the reminants of the red keep. Her green eyes look calm, holding her youngest son in her arms with her husband holding their eldest. Olenna Tyrell to their right. Oberyn to their left. Ellaria had stayed behind in Matos, looking over her children with the older sandsnakes and Willas Tyrell, who they just didn't want to burden with traveling, considering they had just barely managed to get him walking without crutches over short distances. She settles into the chair with Jaqen getting seated beside her, Oberyn on her other side and Olenna to Jaqens. Smiling lightly the viper motions for her to hand over her son to him, which she carefully does, the man carefully holding Eden in his arms, allowing the mother to straighten up, while Avalon scoots over into Olennas lap, having accepted her as his sort of great grandmother. "Welcome Queen Medusa H'gar, King Jaqen H'gar. Lady Olenna Tyrell. Prince Oberyn Martell. Prince Avalon H'gar. Prince Eden H'gar." Medusa smiles lightly at Bran, Stark. "It is good to see you again. Alive and well.", Medusa says, her voice ever so cool however, much to the surprise to those aside from Bran and those who know her, a certain gentleness lingers in her tone. "Thanks to you, Queen Medusa. It was you who fired the arrow that killed the night king." Everyone looks at the woman now, sitting elegantly and proudly, yet relaxed in her seat. "Flatter me not. Every man and woman there that night fought hard. And it was due to every single one of them that we won. Not merely due to me. I am well aware of that." The boy smiles lightly and nods.

They all watch as Tyrion Lannister is marched out by a group of unsullied soldiers.

"Where is Jon?"

"He is our prisoner."

"So is Lord Tyrion. Both of them were to be brought here." "We will decide what we do with our prisoners. This is our city now." "If you look outside the walls of your city you will find thousands of Northmen who will explain to you why harming Jon Snow is not in your best interest." "And if you look.." "Silence!" Medusa Meers voice is sharp as a swords blade as she speaks, her eyes looking towards the unsullied as she gets up. She walks towards him and stops right in front of the man. "There are many things that the Targaryen has not explained to you and that you will never truly be able to learn. Before I became Queen of Matos, I was the highest born daughter of the noble family Meer of Pentos. My father kept many slaves. Hundreds of them. If not thousands. One of them I fell in love with as a little girl and smuggled out of the city before one of your tortured and no longer truly sane men could have done terrible things to him. Now.. he is my king." All eyes look at the faceless man who smiles softly at his wife. "I have never supported slavery. And in fact, when the noble families of Essos sent hundreds of men to me, begging me for my help to slaughter your armies and your dragon queen, which I easily could have done and can still do, I instead killed any man daring to think I would support their frevelous claim on another human beings life. Leaders are important, yes. But merely when what they do is in the best interest of their people. Tell me, unsullied. When did your dead queen ever have the common peoples best interest in mind since she set foot on westerosi soil?" The man stares at her, clearly angered at her words, yet he answers. "She wanted to bring freedom to all. To break the wheel." "That was a concept that may have worked in Essos, yes. But you see. The problem about this is that Westeros has no slaves. We have subordinates with no other choice to follow their leaders. Plenty of those in fact. Subordinates that have had to learn the hard way that they should never meddle in politics for it usually ends up with them dead. Those people gathered the strength and courage to go against their leaders the days YOU and YOUR MEN marched through those gates UNDER YOUR QUEENS COMMAND and murdered thousands of men, women and children, that were like you. Like those who your queen promised to free. Who is left to be freed when everyone is dead and not even a soul remains to mourn the dead? WHO IS LEFT OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY SUFFERED UNDER THAT SO CALLED WHEEL?!" The mans face contorts. "I assure you that those men, women and children would have still lived if Cercei Lannister, as much as I hated that woman, would have been victorious. Believe me when I tell you I hate her just as much as you must hate her. Maybe even more. But I still respect her. As my enemy. As a fellow mother. A fellow queen. I respected your queen and hated her the same way. Because neither of them know what truly liberating people means. I beheaded my own husband who sold the lives of the people of Matos for ashes and dirt. I reformed my entire countries agriculture. Our trade. Our tax system. The care system that assures that no person has to live without a roof over their heads and warm food in their bellies, even if they can not work. I killed every noble unwilling to make their job beneficial to the people we as highborns are to protect, to guide through hardships and to love and care for as if they were our children. WHERE WAS YOUR QUEENS CARE WHEN SHE BURNED ALL THOSE HOMES, ALL THOSE PEOPLE TO ASHES? Jon Snow did what he had to do in order to save the people from the woman becoming the same terror she freed you from and you ought to tell me HE is the one who has done wrong? I am not only terrified but disgusted at your own mindless hypocracy. There are many other things I'd ought to say to you right now. However.. I feel as if I'd waste my breath on men for the first time actually having to think for themselves and overwhelmed by this new responsibilities. Your minds have always been your own. They are like your spirits unbroken and always yours to use. Think very deeply about this. I will give you this one chance to redeem yourselves for having aided a manic woman in her tyrannic act against human life and for you to prove yourselves worthy of the heads on your shoulders. Seeing as you have forgotten that there are no more walls around this city you could use to protect yourselves and I have arrived with a good 45000 men and women ready to destroy the last people that truly are the ONLY THREAT to a unanimous peace."
No one dares to breathe. Every single one of them they know her to be right. She had spoken out what they all thought about the actions of Jon Snow and the violent death that dragonfire had brought to Kingslanding.

The unsullied stares at her for a moment, his knuckles turning white as his hand clutches to his spear and helmet. Finally he drops down to his knees, bowing down deeply, his spear hitting the dirt beside him. One by one the unsullied throw down their arms, kneeling before the serpent queen.

"I ask for forgiveness.", the man says slowly and Medusa nods her head slowly. She kneels down until their eyes meet again. Her deep green eyes gaze into the dark ones. "I understand." She reacts quicker than he ever could, blood splattering over the ground as the man had raised a hidden knife to stab her side. She gets up, parting her lips to form words in high Valyrian. Her first language after all. "You are forgiven. Take his body and bury him honourably in a grave befitting his status as your leader, a loyal commander, your friend. Bring Jon Snow to me. Alive. Then take your ships and leave this place. Sail to where your families roots lie. Settle. Find yourselves again. And forget about the guilt that stains your fingers. Every drop of blood you've spilled. Find peace." The men take their leaders body and retreat.

No one dares say a thing. Everyone breathlessly waits as Medusa H'gar stands there, strong as ever. Her head with the golden crown held high. And all of them there in her shadow.
Sansa Stark gasps as she watches them drag the white wolf towards them and dump him in front of the serpent queen, bowing deeply to which she in return elegantly bows back, placing her hand on her chest and stretching it out to them in a gesture common for Essos. It meant well wishing and love.

They leave and Medusa unshackles the man from his chains, taking his hand into hers, brushing her fingers over his bruised knuckles. "Your hands are cold, Aegon Targaryen.", she says, her voice echoing throughout the pit. The mans dark eyes are filled with tears as he grasps onto her hand, his slowly warming up through her touch. "Thank you."