𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ( 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬. )

chapter eight.

( ACT III; the dawn of the dragon. )
⟵ ◊ ⟶
chapter eight: devotion and oaths.

A long day was on the horizon for Vaegon and his house as they awaited the presentation of the fighters that would compete in the pits during the events to unfold in the coming days, upon his selection.

It was an early rise, the king and queens dressed, readied, and traveling to the event site all before the sun had begun its slow crawl into the Essosi sky. The journey through the city to the district that contained the pits had been long, a wheelhouse carrying Raina, Daenerys, and Hizdahr. Vaegon rode ahead of them on horseback with a substantial Unsullied guard to discourage any attacks from the Sons of the Harpy.

The king was anxious about bringing either of them along. Yet, Hizdahr had been adamant that a full-force showing of the king's house, no matter how few numbered, would be wise. Vaegon had been suspicious, considering that the Mereneese noble may be setting the possibility of an attack on purpose, but his anxiety had become manageable once he ensured they had a retinue of well over four dozen Unsullied to guard them along the way.

The Second Sons and the remaining Unsullied guarded the pyramid and patrolled the streets, per usual. Grey Worm still recovered within the safety of its depths, closely monitored by Missandei.

Raina and Daenerys had vehemently objected to Vaegon riding in the open, fearful of another attack by the Sons of the Harpy. Their arguments over a well-placed arrow had been countered with him adorning a solid breastplate of polished steel and brandishing his spear, promising them anyone who might harm him would be swiftly dealt with. The dozens of Unsullied would see to that. The two women had still been unhappy by choice, but they relented.

The heat was particularly unbearable as they awaited fighters to be presented to them. Even after removing his breastplate, sitting under the shade, and the constant fanning from servants, the king felt as if he were melting. The sun hadn't even reached its zenith for the day, further turning him disgruntled in anticipation of the grueling hours to come. Hours he would have preferred doing anything else other than being where he was.

"I assure you, Your Grace," Hizdahr said from where he sat at Daenerys' side as her defacto prince-consort. "Choosing to be present for the selection of the fighters for the Great Pit of Daznak was a very wise move. I understand it is beneath you to be here in your eyes, but rulers of the city often visit to show good faith for the event."

Vaegon sighed heavily, grabbing a chalice of water from a plate held by a servant. He took a swig, sneering at its lukewarm consistency.

"I hope it fulfills its purpose," Vaegon replied bluntly. "My presence should surely not betray my displeasure for this spectacle." He glanced to Raina at his side as his conversation with Hizdahr was cut short, his northern wife appearing to be struggling in the heat just as much as he despite her wearing a loosely fitting summer gown of gossamer and linen. He waved a hailing hand, gesturing for the servant to fan faster for her. He would not have her overheat while they waited for the spectacle to come. "I know you are still not accustomed to the heat that consumes this continent. I'm sure you miss your summer snows."