𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ( 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬. )

chapter fifteen.

( ACT I; sleeping dragon. )
⟵ ◊ ⟶
chapter 15: thievery and suspicion.

AT mid-morning the day after Xaro's garden gathering, the Targaryen's arrived to the villa of the Spice King, a man they didn't know the true name of but still needed his assistance if they planned to get to Westeros with an army or ships. They'd arisen early, Vaegon eager to acquire the assurance they so desperately needed. Yet, his weariness of their host still hung in the midst of his anxious thoughts. The Spicr King's villa was similar to Xaro's, with plenty of expensive decorations of gold and gemstones which seemed to be the choice way to show off wealth in Qarth. Birds sang and the wind blew lazily, yet tension was still thick in the air.

They stood in a small courtyard, the sun shining down and birds singing as they waited at the basen of a stone stairway. Vaegon paced back and forth, his mind racing as Jorah and Daenerys watched, their expressions painted with the same concerned expression he had. He was still angry about Xaro's preposition to give Daenerys to him, so he'd chosen to stay well apart from their host.

"Must he make us wait all day," Vaegon muttered in annoyance as he absentmindedly rubbed his chin. Upon their arrival, he'd been optimistic. It didn't take long to wear away, for Vaegon was an impatient man. His other hand clenched and unclenched, a habit he often practiced when filled with agitation.

"This is the Spice King, Your Grace," Jorah pointed out from where he stood off to the side, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword as he often did. "He does not seem to be a man of proficiency."

"We can only hope our wait will gain us ships," Daenerys voiced in an effort to stay positive. She looked to Vaegon, who still paced angrily. "I'm sure he will be here soon, Vaegon. And once he is, we can negotiate the beginning of our conquest."

"Perhaps he will," Xaro shrugged from where he stood, muscular arms crossed. "Or perhaps he will make you wait as he does everyone else who comes for his aid."

Vaegon shot a silent glare toward their host, who didn't even seem to see it. Luckily, though, commotion at the top of the stairwell finally brought the Spice King to their presence as well as an entire entourage of tastefully dressed nobles following behind him. The merchants's followers peered down with hungry looks, as if they couldn't look at the Targaryen's close enough.

"The Begetter's of Dragons!" The Spice King exclaims welcomingly as he pauses halfway down the steps. He sweeps his gaze a crossed them all before continuing. "Welcome to my humble villa. Xaro tells me you have come to ask me of some assistance. What is it that may be?"

Vaegon, having found a place at the base of the steps, looks up to the Spice King with slitted eyes and a hand blocking them from the shine of the sun.

"We've come to ask for your assistance in acquiring ships for our return of Westeros," Vaegon states simply. "You are the only one we could come to. You have the most ships in Qarth."