𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ( 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬. )

chapter two.

( ACT III; the dawn of the dragon. )
⟵ ◊ ⟶
chapter two: difficult choices.

THE golden harpy of Mereen was sent toppling down the side of the great pyramid by a group of Unsullied, the soft metal folding and crushing in on itself by the time it had reached the streets below, which had been cleared by the king's men for the safety of the citizens. No longer would the symbol for bondage and suffering tower in the sky above those who were once held in its grip, that of which had been Dany's idea. To send a message, she'd said. Vaegon saw to it, as he was in a particularly victorious and eager of mind to rein his inner struggles and remain hopeful, a king excited to see change. The Targaryen's ruled Mereen now and it's people needed to learn that their old, barbarically traditions were gone. If it made the people despise him, Vaegon didn't care.

Just when the king thought he was able to focus on the shred of happiness he'd found in the many couplings he, Daenerys, and Raina had after their initial occasion, the king was brought forth an issue when he and his to-be queens broke their fasts in the common chamber in the royal apartments. Selmy presented the grim news to the king begrudgingly, likely saddened to dampen Vaegon's joy.

"His name was White Rat," the elder knight briefed Vaegon, the many years of age lines on his features seeming more prominent with his frown. In his hand was a golden mask much like the statue they'd sent tumbling down the pyramid. Horns and a smile made it appear more menacing. "My sources say they call themselves the 'Son's of the Harpy'. We found this at the scene." The king was handed the mask, that of which he held with a cool rage as he looked at it. At his side, Daenerys looked over with contempt. Grey Worm, who stood nearby, held the same anger as the silver-haired princess.

He sighed, passing it to Grey Worm before leaning back in the chair he sat in. It was one thing after another, it seemed, issue upon issue making his reign over Mereen sometimes seeming like a lost cause to the king. Part of him prayed that Westeros would at least have a separate set of issues that were more manageable than a rebel group of slave supporters. Wishful thinking may land him with a worse set of issues when they return to their home country.

"See to it that he is buried in the Temple of the Graces," Vaegon muttered while crossing his arms as every ounce of contempt was apparent in his slouch. "If they wish to play a game, then so be it. We'll send a message." A former slave buried in a place of honor originally intended for the nobility of Mereen was the equivalent to a slap in the face to their cruel traditions. What better way for the rebel group to hear his intentions? Vaegon had always been good at sending messages and these rebels would be no execration.

"That could provoke more retaliation," Raina stated at the other side of the table in response to Vaegon's' order. "And we already have enough going as it is. Would it not be better to see the group eliminated immediately? Instead of forcing them to play at our game?"

"Eliminating them would require us to be able to find them, my lady," Ser Barristan stated grimly to the dark haired Stark woman. "With their masks, they are able to bleed back into the common crowds at any given moment. Making it impossible to distinguish who is a member."