"I suppose I owe you my thanks," Tyrion said as he limped toward Jaehaerys. The prince refused accommodation in the castle and preferred to live with his dragon for a few days. A sign of mistrust toward his father, a strong one.
"You suppose?" Jaehaerys said lightly. "Thank your family's gold... and the fact that I found the culprit," he said.
"Ah... I can't imagine his fate. That's a lie, of course I can. I've spent the last few weeks imagining fun ways you would kill me," Tyrion said.
"I've thought of several myself," Jaeherys said, playing along with the joke, although his unchanging face suggested he was completely serious. "I thought about burying you alive in gold... or giving you a custom-made suit of armor, liquid gold over your body, completely adapting to your figure," the prince commented.
"Wonderful. I knew your mind was brilliant, now I know it's also a little terrifying," Tyrion said. "Honestly, all the ways I thought of involved dragons. In one of them, you would carry me up to the sky on the back of a dragon and drop me. Then the dragon would catch me before I hit the ground. Of course, it would catch me in its jaws, and I would end up in its stomach," Tyrion shook his head slightly as he remembered his nightmare. "Although a Lannister dying for gold? That's quite poetic. Although I remember that, in King's Landing, you said you were bad at the arts," he tried to bring him back to the past. In the capital, on the eve of the prince's wedding to Daenerys, they had shared words. From one scholar to another.
"Art is a type of communication..." said Jaehaerys. "Communication of emotions, and believe me... hatred is a pretty intense emotion. Given the need to express such emotions, anyone becomes an artist," he said, smiling slightly.
Tyrion nodded awkwardly, wondering if he should run. Although his legs were short, perhaps he could run a foot or two before the prince blew his head off with a single blow.
"To tell you the truth," Tyrion used his mouth without meaning to. "I don't feel hated," he told the prince.
"Because I don't hate you. I hated my daughter's killer, but you turned out not to be him," the prince shrugged.
"So... may I ask how he died?" Tyrion asked.
"I ripped out his tongue," Jaehaerys said. "The guy wouldn't shut up," he added at the end, as an afterthought.
"I see... Do you hate the Lannisters?" the Imp asked, even though his instincts told him to stop.
"Not all of them," the prince replied, his voice firm.
"We don't wish to be your enemies—"
"GRAA!" The prince's dragon let out a burst of fire into the sky. Tyrion couldn't help but watch, mesmerized. The fire was white, with hints of gray, and difficult to see during the day. But it was beautiful.
"Gold is welcome," said Jaehaerys, walking away from Tyrion. He didn't let him try to convince him to form an alliance. At the end of the war, he would kill Tywin. He still hadn't decided about the rest of the family. Jaime had approached him days ago with an offer in exchange for Tyrion's freedom. The Lannisters already owed him too much gold for the tournament. Jaime added 50,000 golden dragons for Tyrion's freedom.
Jaehaerys accepted; honestly, he didn't even remember the Imp. Getting gold for not trying to kill an innocent man was pretty good.
His relationship with the Lannisters remained bitter. If, after Tywin's death, Jaime followed in his footsteps...
"A man does what he has to do," thought the prince as he walked.
--------------------------------
"You took your time, Tohrren," Jaehaerys greeted his captain.
It had been almost two moons since he last saw the Northerner. Traveling along the coast of Westeros had taken them quite some time.
"We had to coordinate with the royal fleet, and we were looking for straggling Ironborn; that's why we were delayed," said Tohrren. "We don't adapt easily," he bowed his head apologetically. He gave his reasons and admitted it was a mistake, which made him a valuable man.
"Did you manage to catch any squid?" asked Jaehaerys.
"Not as many as I would have liked," Tohrren said calmly. He was mad because they hurt his brother. But Altair trusted in him to keep his head calm.
Tohrren was the calmest of the brothers. He was the most diplomatic and the one who usually kept a cool head. Jaehaerys remembered the first time he killed someone, a bandit. Brandon almost threw up, but Tohrren didn't even flinch. It was strange that this side of him was not entirely known to Brandon.
The man was not a psychopath or anything like that. But he was the kind of person you would call on to do things others would not dare to do. It's not that he had no limits; he did. Tohrren would not touch children or women. But torturing a man for hours until he begged you to kill him? He was in.
"Well, they're here," Jaehaerys said.
"All the actors are here... even the king has arrived," said Jaehaerys with a frown.
Myrcella's health remained a mystery to everyone. Not even the Lannisters had heard from her; in fact, it was Jaehaerys who brought them the news.
"Has it been discussed where we will attack?" asked Tohrren.
"Yes," said Jaehaerys. "We will divide the ships into three groups. We will attack all the islands except Pyke, which will be left until last... I want Balon to despair," the prince commented. Tohrren, the loyal soldier that he was, simply nodded.
"Which islands will we attack first?" he asked.
"We will attack Blacktyde. How many ships do we need to mobilize the men you brought?" asked the prince.
"Thirty ships are enough," said Tohrren, and Jaehaerys nodded.
"Good... after Blacktyde, we will take Orkmont and Harlaw," the prince nodded in his direction.
"Just us?" asked Tohrren.
"Moonfyre will be there... you will be there," said Jaehaerys with confidence.
"Fine." Tohrren shrugged.
"Don't you want to ask why we're going alone?" asked the prince.
"Because our strength is sufficient," Tohrren replied quickly.
"No..." Jaehaerys whispered.
"I don't want lords interfering when I execute the Ironborn who kneel," many lords would brand his actions as war crimes.
"The children...?" Tohrren began to ask.
"They will be safe. Those who have not been corrupted will be taken to Argentstone, with their mothers," Jaehaerys needed population. If he could rescue unspoiled apples from the Ironborn, he would take them. He wondered how deeply rooted the culture of plunder would be in a small child.
"Will all the adults die?" He did not question that fact, even if the answer was yes.
"No. The adults will mine. The Iron Islands are rich in iron," Jaehaerys said. "I'll make a deal with Aegon, I'll get the iron from the islands," Jaehaerys couldn't wipe the Ironborn off the map. Not yet.
"Fine," Tohrren didn't ask any more questions.
Jaehaerys looked into the distance, accompanying the Manderly ships was Stark. Eddard had come, but not alone; his heir, Robb, was with him. A man with a stocky build, blue eyes, and thick red-brown hair. Despite wearing the Tully colors, his bearing always revealed who his father was. Father and son approached him.
"Jaehaerys," the younger Stark greeted him, his tone neither warm nor overly formal. They were not friends, and he was probably angry about how things had turned out with Sansa.
"Robb," Eddard reprimanded him for the informality. After all, Jaehaerys was a prince and should be addressed with respect.
"Prince Jaehaerys," Robb said after sighing. He was a sensible man after all.
"Lord Robb. You've grown since last time," Jaehaerys greeted him back. Although he didn't really mind being called by his name by Robb.
"Not as much as you. Although you cut your hair, eh?" While at Winterfell, Jaehaeryshad long hair, but now it was short. His hair was initially lost in the fire that gave birth to the dragons. Since then, he had kept it short; Daenerys liked it that way.
"A fire," Jaehaerys smiled.
"We will be allies in this war... it will be interesting to fight alongside you," Robb said, a little confused. The rumors about Jaeaherys were interesting, like those of a budding legend. If he didn't know him, he might have admired him greatly. But that prince had taken his sister's chastity and given her a bastard child. How could he admire someone like that?
"So you came to learn," said the prince, even though he himself had never fought in a war. "We won't really fight together until the siege of Pyke," Jaehaerys added.
"Will you be off your dragon by then?" Robb said, boldly.
"I never needed a dragon to put your head in the mud," Jaehaerys smiled, and Robb blushed with embarrassment.
"That was in the past," Robb tilted his head slightly, ashamed.
"When I barely set foot on the training ground, things changed," Jaehaerys continued, looking at Eddard, his expression somewhat unreadable, between guilt and relief. "After the war, I will fulfill our agreement, Lord Stark," Jaeaherys turned away after saying those words. Ned just nodded.
"Are Sansa and Rhaelle all right?" Robb asked. He was not a good politician, after all, he was Eddard's child, so he tried to make conversation to get to the question he really wanted to ask.
"They are both safe," Jaehaerys said, a kind smile unconsciously appearing on his face.
"Rhaelle will be legitimized after the war," he said as he resumed walking, not seeing the expressions on their faces.
His relationship with the Starks was neutral; they were neither his friends nor his enemies. But when the first harvests filled his storehouses, he believed they would at least become allies.
After all, the North remembers.