𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫 // 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧

Chapter XVII

Human beings in a mob
What's a mob to a king?
What's a king to a God?
What's a God to a non-believer
Who don't believe in anything?
Will he make it out alive?
Alright, alright
No church in the wild
Tears on the mausoleum floor
Blood stains the Coliseum doors
Lies on the lips of a priest
Thanksgiving disguised as a feast

(No Church in the Wild - Jay-Z and Ye)

Dragonstone

Jocelyn and Erryk rode steadily through the night, never stopping except to water their horses. They arrived at Dragonstone a few hours after dawn, dismounting from their horses and handing them over to the stablehand. Vermax, olive-green scales and pale orange wing membranes, flew overhead, performing agile acrobatics. Strong smiled, knowing that if the dragon was there, Jace was there. Finally she would hug him again. When they reached the entrance of the castle, they found a multitude of men waiting for them. Targaryen, Stark and Arryn soldiers were all there, chatting among themselves while the fate of their lives was decided within those four walls. A man from the Vale, who had the task of controlling who entered or left the castle, approached the two, blocking their way. "Girl, go away. We are fighting a real war here, we have no time to indulge your stupid whims" the man sentenced with contempt while he was intent on looking at Jocelyn's armor and sword. He had mistaken her for a mercenary or perhaps a spoiled girl who had decided to oppose her father by putting on armor instead of a skirt. Strong, however, had no time for these clichés, so, without even fully realizing what she was about to do, she punched the soldier in the nose. She was surprised at herself. She hated gratuitous, undeserved violence, but she had so much anger and resentment inside her that her mind had stopped reasoning rationally. For the first time her instinct, what many called animal instinct, had gotten the better of her. She was tired of always acting right, polite, logical when no one else seemed to. Everyone did what they thought best, regardless of the consequences, and for once she wanted to do it too. The bone cracked funny, and a stream of blood immediately began to flow from the man's nose. "The little girl you just mocked is Lady Jocelyn Strong, Hand of the Queen. Pray to the Seven that she doesn't ask her nephews to feed you to their dragons. Now move aside, we need to speak to His Highness," Erryk said, glaring at the Valeman. The latter mumbled some excuses and then, still dabbing his nose, made a half bow, letting the two pass. “Thank goodness I’ve never made you so angry,” the Kingsguard muttered, trying to lighten the situation. Jocelyn looked at him, smiling sincerely, then almost imperceptibly caressed his hand. They walked down the long corridor to the Hall of the Painted Table, and when they entered, the room fell silent. Daemon and Rhaenyra looked at each other, and their faces showed fear, worry and confusion. Blood and Cheese had not written any letter confirming the success of their mission and Jocelyn and Erryk were not supposed to be there, not for at least a week. “Auntie…,” Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, who was at Lord Stark’s side, melted into a relaxed smile as soon as he saw the woman from Harrenhal, walking towards her. Jocelyn felt as if she were no longer in the arms of a boy, but of a man. The mission to the North and what had happened to his brother had changed him, it was clear. Strong took her nephew’s face in hers, kissing his cheek, then, holding back tears, proceeded to fix his hair. “*Skoros massitas naejot ñuha lēkia...Ziry iksos mirre ñuha fault. Nyke should emagon listened naejot ao.” “*Konir sagon daor drēje Jace. Ziry didn’t depend va ao, Luke iā Aemond . Issa se fault hen lī qilōni issi tolī blinded ondoso skoros gaomis daor emagon, qilōni gaomagon daor realize skoros pōnta could ojughagon.” Jocelyn said aloud, her eyes locked with the Queen’s. “Lord Cregan, Lady Jeyne, I would like you to meet Lady Strong, Hand of the Queen,” Prince Daemon said, trying to diffuse the situation. Jocelyn thanked the two guests, both for their presence and for their support of the cause and slowly approached the table. The Lord of Winterfell approached her, giving her a kiss on her armored hand. As for the Lady of the Eyrie, she seemed happy and satisfied to see another woman at the heights of power. "Now, if you don't mind my Lords and my Lady, I would like to speak privately with the Queen and the Prince. You too, Jace, leave us alone, you Erryk can stay" Jocelyn decreed. Soon the room emptied, and as soon as the door was closed, a sign that they were finally alone, the Queen's Hand advanced furiously against the Targaryens. "How could you even think of organizing such a thing! Daemon hired two assassins to have little Jaehaerys killed, and you, Nyra, agreed to it. An innocent... Your sweet little sister's son!" The Queen put her index finger to her lips, signaling her friend to be silent. Perhaps she did not want prying ears to hear what had just been said, or perhaps she herself did not want to hear the brutality of her order. Grief, especially that of a mother whose son's life hung in the balance, could lead to madness and terrible things. "They must pay for what they did to my son." "What happened to Luke was not Jaehaerys' fault." "My son was innocent, and yet now he is in a coma, and without a leg." "Jae is innocent too! By the Seven Rhaenyra, that child is only six years old, he understands half of what is happening and you wanted to take it out on him?” The two women looked into each other’s eyes, amethyst against brown, madness against reason. “What happened to Blood and Cheese?” Daemon asked, walking over to his wife and holding her close. Jocelyn knew that the Rogue Prince was the mastermind of this heinous plan, but that didn’t change the fact that the Queen had approved it all. “In the dungeons of the Red Keep. One with a blade in his chest and the other without a head on his shoulders,” Strong replied, moving even closer to the Targaryens, facing them proudly. Erryk put a hand on the hilt of his sword, torn between his duty as a Kingsguard and his boundless love for his woman. “Helaena and the children?” Rhaenyra asked, a note of real concern in her voice. “Safe, far from the Blacks and the Greens, far from the war and your senseless vengeance,” the Targaryen rubbed her forehead in frustration, as her husband slammed his hand hard on the stone slab. “You are like a sister to Rhaenyra, and you are her Hand, and you betrayed her! You prevented her son, your nephew, from being avenged, and you helped the enemy escape. That is high treason!” the silver-haired man exclaimed furiously. Jocelyn laughed bitterly, picked up Rebel and threw her at the Queen’s feet, then laid her head on the Painted Table, in a grotesque imitation of an execution. “If I am a traitor, then I deserve to die. Come, Nyra, take my sword, and let’s end this. Kill me!” the woman of Harrenhal shouted, her face on the cold stone, tears streaming down her face. “If you mean to punish Jocelyn, you will have to punish me, too. I am a traitor too, and I hate to admit it, Your Highness, but if I could, I would kill those bastards a hundred times over. Prince Lucerys was the victim of a terrible accident, but he chose to meet his fate. Instead, Prince Jaehaerys would have died without knowing why," Erryk said, throwing his sword at the Queen's feet and resting his head on the Table. Strong looked at her sun and stars and smiled. As a child, she had believed that such a love could only exist in the songs of bards, and instead there they were, united in life and death. "I have no intention of punishing you, stand up," the Queen said, picking up the two swords and handing them to their owners. The Targaryen stared at them for a long time, then wrapped them in a hug and cried so much that her eyes swelled. "Oh gods... Curse me! How could I let myself be blinded by so much rage? A child... I was about to have a child killed..." the silver-haired woman stammered. "The worst has been avoided, but as soon as they find the bodies of the two cutthroats and discover that Hel and the children are no longer here, they will come here. And you will have to behave like a true Queen, you will have to put aside any personal grudge and think of the well-being of the people." "Will you ever forgive me for what I did, Lyn?" The Queen's Hand did not answer. It was clear that from that day on he would never see his friend the same way again. Perhaps he would forgive her one day, but not right away. He would remain by her side, for the cause and the office she held, and also for her grandchildren and for the love that had bound them for years now. But the Nyra and Lyn of old had ceased to exist since she had overheard the conversation between Blood and Cheese. The door to the Hall was suddenly opened, and a figure with thick brown hair entered the room. "Mother, Luke is awake!" little Joffrey exclaimed in seventh heaven, running back to catch up with his older brother.