The Unyielding Stag (Game of Thrones AU/Invincible)
Chapter 37: The Last Targaryens

A/N: Finding out what's going on with the last Targaryens~

-x-X-x-

Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen, the last living children of the Mad King. They'd grown up in exile over in Essos, having fled from Axel's father many, many years ago. But it sounded like they hadn't necessarily given up on their claim to the Iron Throne…

"If the rumors are to be believed, Viserys Targaryen is dead."

Well now. Axel raises an eyebrow as he looks at his Master of Whispers in surprise. The whole of the Small Council is sitting at the table, including their new Master of Ships. Davos Seaworth, now technically a Lord in his own right by virtue of his new position, doesn't look entirely comfortable in his seat… but maybe that's a good thing. Those who do look comfortable, such as Lord Baelish… Axel doesn't trust them one bit.

Frowning, Jon leans forward, suddenly quite interested.

"Explain, Lord Varys."

Inclining his head, the Spider does exactly that.

"It would seem, amidst all the chaos caused by the death of King Robert and his sons, as well as Renly's madness, that events in Essos have proceeded faster than anticipated. What I can say with certainty is that Viserys married his sister to a Dothraki Warlord some time ago. This marriage was meant to solidify an alliance, in which the Dothraki Warlord, a 'Khal Drogo', agreed to lead his horsemen across the Narrow Sea to take the Seven Kingdoms and secure the Iron Throne for Viserys."

Axel's brow climbs at that. Truly? From what he'd heard of the Dothraki, they weren't exactly sailors. And Jon seems to agree.

"Preposterous. The Dothraki have no stomach for sailing. They'd never cross the Narrow Sea, especially not for a single bride."

Varys dips his head again, still smiling.

"I cannot claim to know the workings of this Khal Drogo's mind, Lord Hand. All I know is what my sources have told me. The wedding between Daenerys Targaryen and Khal Drogo definitely took place, after which they and Drogo's army, also called a khalasar, began the trek back to the ancient Dothraki city of Vaes Dothrak as is required by their traditions."

Axel won't lie… he's hanging off of Varys' every word by this point. It's a little exciting, isn't it? Essos, the Dothraki… even the Targaryens. It's all so distant, so exotic, so… foreign.

"Unfortunately, that's where my sources become muddled. More recent events are less clear, but one thing they're all certain of is that Viserys Targaryen has met his end."

Eyes narrowed, lips pursed, Jon grunts.

"How, exactly?"

This time Varys shakes his head.

"That is the problem, my Lord. There are two stories at play here. The first is simple. They say that Khal Drogo got angry with Viserys' repeated demands to cease traveling in the 'wrong' direction and turn around to find ships and sail for Westeros. In this telling of the tale, Viserys apparently demanded the crown he was promised… and Drogo gave it to him by melting down some gold and pouring the molten mixture upon the Targaryen's head."

Even Axel winces at that. Viserys might have been his enemy, albeit a very distant one, but shit that sounded like a bad way to go. Hm, would that kill Axel himself? Not that he would allow such a thing to happen to him in the first place, but would he survive it?

"… The other version of events is far more troubling, I'm afraid."

Oh? Varys looks downright discomfited. Intrigued now, Axel leans forward.

"What is the other version of events, Master of Whispers?"

Looking right at him, Varys' smile vanishes.

"They claim that a Red Priestess has attached herself to Daenerys Stormborn, Your Grace. Furthermore, the young Targaryen was gifted a set of three Dragon Eggs, long turned to stone but nevertheless worth a fortune, at her wedding to the Khal. And… they say that the Red Priestess has begun instructing Daenerys Stormborn in her religion's ways… in the ways of flame and sacrifice."

An uneasy silence has fallen over the room, but Axel finds himself more excited than anything, holding his breath as he waits for whatever Varys is going to say next.

"Some say that before Drogo could finish Viserys off himself, that Daenerys interceded on his behalf. Not to save him… but to use him for her own ends at the behest of this Red Priestess. They say Viserys was burned alive… to hatch the Dragon Eggs that Daenerys was given at her wedding."

Holy shit. That was… fucking insane. Axel tries not to look too excited. He knows he's supposed to be perturbed, disturbed, and worried by everything Varys just said. He definitely isn't supposed to be nearly jumping up and down in his seat while considering the prospect of there being real live dragons again.

Still, he was confident that he wasn't alone in always wondering what actual dragons would be like. They'd been such a huge part of Westeros' history, only to die off and be gone from the world for a hundred years. Imagining them flying through the air again… is it any wonder that Axel finds his blood pumping at the mere thought?

Forcibly calming himself as everyone else is too busy reacting to Varys' news to pay him much attention, Axel waits for a moment before speaking in a level tone.

"And of these two stories… which do you believe to be the truth, Lord Varys?"

Smiling a wan smile, Varys sighs.

"I'm afraid that tales from Essos always have to be taken with a grain of salt, Your Majesty. In fact, I suspect that neither tale is entirely the truth. There are always details that get lost over such great distances. I hope with all my heart that the truth is closer to the first tale. I suspect, to my greatest chagrin, that the truth is really closer to the second tale though."

Axel nods, absorbing that as he sits back in his chair and ponders Varys' words. Dragons. Sacrificial fire magic. These things might be dangerous to him, admittedly. Valyrian Steel cut him after all, and that was said to be magical metal quite literally crafted with lost Valyrian magical arts… and dragonfire.

And yet, he finds his heart pumping in his chest, not out of fear but out of excitement. It might be fun, testing himself against such creatures. They would have to come close to the ground to kill him. And Axel could leap very, very high.

"What are our options, Varys?"

Jon's voice cuts through the silence, causing Axel to blink and raise an eyebrow at the Spider, curious to see what he says. Varys hesitates for a moment before speaking again.

"… We have a man close to Daenerys Stormborn's side. He has sworn himself to her service, but spies for us instead. Some of this information comes from him. I imagine, if we were to offer him a full pardon for his crimes and allow him to come back to Westeros after the deed was done… we could convince him to assassinate the Targaryen and her dragons, especially while they're still so young. Maybe this Red Priestess as well if we're lucky."

What? Assassination? Axel waits for Jon to decry the idea as dishonorable, but to his surprise the Lord of the Eyrie is quiet… contemplative even. He's actually considering it. Meanwhile, the very idea turns Axel's stomach. Yes, he understood that this Targaryen woman was his natural enemy. His father had fought a war that ultimately saw her entire family dead and dethroned after all.

And yes, dragons might very well be the most dangerous thing he could expect to face in his life too. He might be confident of facing off against a hundred men, but he had no idea how he would do against a dragon. So seeing them dead when they were too young to be a threat might very well be the smart thing here.

But… Axel didn't want to do the smart thing. And he definitely didn't want to stoop so low to making use of assassins either. That was the sort of thing his enemies tried to do to him. Cersei Lannister, for instance. Renly Baratheon was another example. But not Axel. Never Axel.

Hunting for a way to shoot down the idea for a moment, something comes to Axel and he speaks up.

"Who is this man? What crimes has he committed, Lord Varys? Besides swearing his service to an enemy Princess, of course. What exactly saw him exiled from Westeros in the first place?"

Varys blinks before dipping his head.

"Ah… his name is Jorah Mormont, Your Grace. He was caught slaving, I'm afraid. Ser Mormont captured some poachers stealing from his lands, you see. Instead of handing them over to his liege lord to see justice done, he decided to sell them into slavery to help fund his wife's expensive habits, purportedly."

That worked.

"… Then no. We will not be using such a man. Slavers have no place in Westeros. In fact… we won't be using any assassins. Keep an eye on the situation and keep me informed about how it develops, but I will not have us resort to such underhanded tactics. Not while I'm King."

There's a ripple of surprise at the table, but Axel also senses approval from some of the men, such as Lord Seaworth and even his uncle Stannis. Assassins… they were not the weapon of a strong King, but the crutch of a weak one. And Axel was not a weak King.

Fortunately, Jon seems to understand and accept his position. His Hand nods in support of Axel's proclamation.

"It will be as the King says. Continue to keep us up to date on the movements of the last Targaryen and her Red Priestess, Lord Varys. But take no further action at this time."

Retreating from his suggestion with good grace, Varys simply sits back and wordlessly inclines his head.

Just when Axel is wondering if they should dismiss the Small Council for the day, however, another speaks up.

"Ah… while we're all here, Your Majesty, there was something I had hoped to discuss as well, if you have a moment."

Lord Baelish. Axel looks over at the other man and frowns. His private conversation with Jon from the day before is still fresh in his mind and he's reminded of his thoughts about perhaps being biased against the weaselly man. He would try to be better, he supposed.

"… What is it?"

Smiling in what Axel can only describe as a weaselly manner, Baelish taps the table.

"I wished to ask when you might want to hold the next Royal Tourney, Your Grace. With the death of King Robert and then this war with Renly, it has been quite some time since King's Landing had some proper entertainment. I suspect the reason so many of the knights of the Realm have lingered so long after everything was resolved is because they're waiting to see if one will be announced, but they won't wait forever."

His smile growing slightly, the Master of Coin leans forward, as if excited.

"Perhaps we could hold a Tourney where the grand prize is the final opening of your Kingsguard, Your Grace! With appropriate monetary winnings on top of that, of course."

… Axel's first instinct is to say not just 'no', but 'fuck no' and 'never again if I have anything to say about it'. Half of the reason that the Realm was in such a ruinous state right now was his father's disastrous tourneys. More than half, really. Robert's drinking, whoring, and feasting weren't nothing… but they were a drop in the bucket of debt that Axel and Jon were now dealing with when compared to the tourneys.

Minding his temper, Axel nevertheless shakes his head.

"There will be no Tourneys for the foreseeable future. My father has left the Realm in enough debt without me adding to it. No, we'll be cutting back as much as possible for as long as it takes to get ourselves out from under this vast weight currently pinning us down."

Again, Axel gets a sense of approval from his Master of Ships and Master of Laws. Varys and Pycelle are both as neutral as can be in their reactions. Baelish, meanwhile… looks pained.

"Ah, well… that may not be the best move if we wish to keep the smallfolk placated, my King."

What? Axel furrows his brow in confusion, his irritation rising.

"Explain."

"Tourneys aren't just for Royalty and Nobility to enjoy and for Knights to make names for themselves, Your Majesty. They also present a welcome reprieve to the smallfolk, giving them a moment to breathe and get out from under the crushing despair of their… lesser lives. As things stand right now, I believe that the smallfolk have much love for Your Majesty."

Petyr pauses briefly before continuing with an apologetic grimace.

"However, that could turn on a dime if it is announced that there will be no more tourneys for the foreseeable future by Royal Decree. Each time they attend such an event, the smallfolk are incentivized to work all the harder so that they might be able to attend the next one. These events are like pristine stepping stones in the otherwise muddy quagmire that is their lives, giving them something to look forward to. Take that away… and they might very well riot."

… Truly? Axel frowns for a moment, turning Baelish's words over and over in his head. Finally, he looks to Jon, to his Hand. And the man… isn't exactly denying Baelish's words either. If anything, Jon grimaces but eventually nods, signaling that there might be truth to some of what Baelish is saying.

"Fine. But the prize amounts must be reasonable. And there must be fees to make up for the costs. If we can break even, I will allow a tourney to take place here and there."

Baelish continues to look pained at that.

"That might anger some of the better fighters, Your Grace. They have become used to demanding rather large prizes under your father…"

Axel scoffs and waves a hand dismissively, as done with this issue as he is with the issue of the Targaryen and her dragons.

"Let them get angry then. In fact, let it be known that any who have a problem with the smaller tourney prizes can challenge me to a duel instead. If they manage to best me, they can have a hundred thousand golden dragons. But when they lose, I will cut off their sword hand."

"Axel!"

That gets Jon to snap his name, but Axel just shakes his head, fixing his Hand with a look that says all he needs to say. Jon better get with Baelish sooner rather than later, because Axel was already tired of all of his father's debts. And he definitely wouldn't abide by anything that put the Realm even worse off financially. Not while he still drew breath.

"Dismissed."

With that, he rises and sweeps out of the room first, leaving his Small Council behind to get back to work and do their damn jobs.

-x-X-x-

Petyr Baelish finds himself being squeezed now that they're at peace. Worse still, they have a responsible King and Jon Arryn is finally doing his job properly. This was… less than ideal, all things considered. Even his ploy to get them back to spending unreasonable sums via tourneys had been shot down.

And now here he was, meeting with Lord Arryn alone after the Small Council Meeting, hearing the Hand of the King talk about how things weren't exactly adding up and that some of their lesser debts to organizations like the Faith and other local lenders weren't making sense.

Of course they weren't making sense! Petyr knew full well why that was. Fortunately, Jon still trusted him far too much and was coming to him for help in untangling the mess that HE himself had made. That meant Petyr had a chance of fixing things before they could get too much worse.

Unfortunately, that was about where the good news ended. With Stannis Baratheon as Master of Laws and Davos Seaworth as Master of Ships, Petyr's life had never been harder. Stannis' inflexibility served the man well as Master of Laws, while Davos was far more cunning and underhanded as Master of Ships than his predecessor had been.

The amount of smugglers and ship captains that Petyr had had to cut from his payroll as a preemptive measure alone was staggering, and that was before Seaworth had even got much of a chance to clean house. Unfortunately, Petyr simply couldn't risk being found out.

Furthermore, Janos Slynt had been arrested and sentenced to the Wall to take the Black. The former Commander of the Goldcloaks was just the start of a purge orchestrated by Lord Arryn and approved by their young King, and it represented yet another way in which Petyr felt like he was being bent over a barrel.

He'd had to rush to calm down the rest of the Goldcloaks of course and even sacrificed a few of the more corrupt ones along with Slynt to avoid things boiling over. Jon Arryn and Axel Baratheon thought that they could just get rid of Slynt and his toadies and that would solve it, but no… if Petyr hadn't intervened, a good portion of the City Watch might have tried something truly inadvisable.

… Robert Baratheon's Small Council had been incredibly dysfunctional and ill-managed, acting like a mirror of its King at the time. It was just the way Petyr liked it, really. But despite Axel Baratheon's Small Council being almost all of the same men, it was still far different. They were actually being held accountable and that… that was a problem.

Still, Petyr hadn't gotten as far as he did by panicking. Opportunities and costs. That was all life was, in the end. He just had to keep looking for opportunities to avoid the costs of his past actions and stay ahead of Lord Arryn's hunt. It shouldn't be too difficult, given that the man was unknowingly having Petyr help hunt himself.

Still, the Master of Coin would have to tread lightly going forward. Very lightly indeed. Frankly, what he really needed was a new distraction. The old ones, the ones that had kept Robert and Jon in the dark for so long, weren't going to work anymore. That much was obvious. And with Renly's war over and the conflict coming to a close, that too was out of the question.

… Or was it? Maybe another war was precisely what Petyr needed. And he just so happened to know just the man to start one.

-x-X-x-

A/N: Axel is done playing games. Petyr is scrambling. But just who does he know that can start a war of all things?!

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