( ACT III; the dawn of the dragon. )
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chapter two: difficult choices.

THE golden harpy of Mereen was sent toppling down the side of the great pyramid by a group of Unsullied, the soft metal folding and crushing in on itself by the time it had reached the streets below, which had been cleared by the king's men for the safety of the citizens. No longer would the symbol for bondage and suffering tower in the sky above those who were once held in its grip, that of which had been Dany's idea. To send a message, she'd said. Vaegon saw to it, as he was in a particularly victorious and eager of mind to rein his inner struggles and remain hopeful, a king excited to see change. The Targaryen's ruled Mereen now and it's people needed to learn that their old, barbarically traditions were gone. If it made the people despise him, Vaegon didn't care.

Just when the king thought he was able to focus on the shred of happiness he'd found in the many couplings he, Daenerys, and Raina had after their initial occasion, the king was brought forth an issue when he and his to-be queens broke their fasts in the common chamber in the royal apartments. Selmy presented the grim news to the king begrudgingly, likely saddened to dampen Vaegon's joy.

"His name was White Rat," the elder knight briefed Vaegon, the many years of age lines on his features seeming more prominent with his frown. In his hand was a golden mask much like the statue they'd sent tumbling down the pyramid. Horns and a smile made it appear more menacing. "My sources say they call themselves the 'Son's of the Harpy'. We found this at the scene." The king was handed the mask, that of which he held with a cool rage as he looked at it. At his side, Daenerys looked over with contempt. Grey Worm, who stood nearby, held the same anger as the silver-haired princess.

He sighed, passing it to Grey Worm before leaning back in the chair he sat in. It was one thing after another, it seemed, issue upon issue making his reign over Mereen sometimes seeming like a lost cause to the king. Part of him prayed that Westeros would at least have a separate set of issues that were more manageable than a rebel group of slave supporters. Wishful thinking may land him with a worse set of issues when they return to their home country.

"See to it that he is buried in the Temple of the Graces," Vaegon muttered while crossing his arms as every ounce of contempt was apparent in his slouch. "If they wish to play a game, then so be it. We'll send a message." A former slave buried in a place of honor originally intended for the nobility of Mereen was the equivalent to a slap in the face to their cruel traditions. What better way for the rebel group to hear his intentions? Vaegon had always been good at sending messages and these rebels would be no execration.

"That could provoke more retaliation," Raina stated at the other side of the table in response to Vaegon's' order. "And we already have enough going as it is. Would it not be better to see the group eliminated immediately? Instead of forcing them to play at our game?"

"Eliminating them would require us to be able to find them, my lady," Ser Barristan stated grimly to the dark haired Stark woman. "With their masks, they are able to bleed back into the common crowds at any given moment. Making it impossible to distinguish who is a member."

Raina frowned but nodded in understanding. Vaegon leaned forward once more to rest his elbows on the table, looking to Grey Worm. "See to it that extra patrols are sent out. And make sure they remain vigilant. For the time being, no more visits to these brothels for the Unsullied." White Rat had went there for comfort, he'd been told. To merely be innocently touched by another. The thought of taking away the choice from the Unsullied hurt him, but he couldn't risk loosing more of them.

Grey Worm nodded solemnly, lips in a firm line. "Yes, Your Grace," he replied before peeling away from the conversation, making his way to exit the royal apartments to carry out Vaegon's order.

"Surely there's some way we could barter an understanding with these rebels," Daenerys muttered. She swatted her hand in exasperation. "Before resorting to slaughtering them."

"We'll figure something out," Vaegon sighed, palming his face in his hands in frustration. Sooner or later, he knew, there would have been some form of resistance against their rule of Mereen and it's sister cities. Selmy and Grey Worm had warned it. Yet the Targaryen king hadn't expected it so soon. "For now, you two are not to leave pyramid. Am I understood?"

The two of them normally would have argued against it, Daenerys the ever rebellious one, but the agreeing nods from both of the women told Vaegon they knew the dangers outside of it's protection and that his orders were not to be challenged. Knew he'd level the cities of the Bay of Dragon's if they were touched, innocent or not. Pleased they didn't not argue against his order the king grabbed the goblet of wine he'd been working on and took a long swig. Setting it down, he clicked his tongue and said, "Ser Barristan, if you could see to it that the Second Son's are vigilant as well."

After Vaegon had rid himself of the sellsword Naharis, the Second Son's luckily did not choose to leave, or retaliate over their commanders sudden death. The king liked to think that they respected him for his prowess in battle and as a leader, that of which the elder knight stated he believed after they saw what he could do when he'd taken Yunkai. But Vaegon knew the promise of gold before they took Mereen had been enough to secure their interests. Nevertheless, the small mercenary army stayed under Vaegon's command. Therefore, Selmy was delegated to command them.

"Of course, Your Grace. I'll see to it immediately." Soon enough, the king, the princess, and the lady were left in silence once again.

"Such a tricky position we've found ourselves in," Vaegon muttered.

"It is the price we pay for freeing then enslaved," Daenerys agreed from where she sat. "Truthfully, I would do it all again."

WORD of Yunkai's Wise Masters willingness to obey Vaegon's orders to keep slavery banned within the Bay of Dragon's, that of which he, Daenerys, and Raina had coined together to replace the former name. The news was a relief for the king and his inner circle after the blossoming rebel group was willing to work with his demands, but wasn't enough to stave the king's worries over its security.

Hizdahr zo Loraq, the nobleman whom had come before them to seek permission to bury his father honorably after the executions of the Wise Masters, had been delegated by Vaegon to journey to Yunkai to barter peace weeks back. Yunkai had desired to reclaim slavery, but with the tactful convincing of their Merenese negotiator, the masters of the sister city agreed to turn over power to a council of former slaves and slave owners, that of which Daenerys was keen on happening and was vigilant in securing. In exchange, they asked for the fighting pits to be opened once more. An arena where slaves used to fight to the death, all for entertainment. A suggestion Loraq was supporting.

"We ban slavery, and in turn, the violence it presents," Vaegon exclaimed in irritated disbelief. "And now they wish for me to allow violence in the form if entertainment? After we've explicitly worked so hard to rid the Bay of Dragons of it?"

Loraq, whom had just returned from his long journey, seemed steadfast with his suggestion. "Yes, Your Grace. The fighting pits may seem like another cruel thing to you as someone who was not born here, but they have provided entertainment to both masters and slaves alike for generations."

"Opening the fighting pits alone won't soothe the cities' distrust and resentment toward us," Daenerys stated. "Nor will it stop the attacks from the Sons of the Harpy. Too much has happened to ease tensions with a quick solution. We need something else."

"What do you think would ease tensions?" Vaegon asked with a raised brow.

Dany pursed her lips as if she were contemplating the decision to say what she had in mind. "Marriages have always helped ease tension in past. Many of our ancestors have married members of the great houses of Westeros to barter alliances. We should do the same."

Raina watched quietly as she saw Vaegon's expression morph as he began to understand Daenerys' suggestion. It was almost frightening to see.

"And who do you suggest will do that?" He uttered. In front of them, Loraq shuffled weight nervously from one foot to the other.

Daenerys shrugged, though her violet eyes focusing on the floor betrayed her worry of Vaegon's reaction. "I am a princess of House Targaryen. It is my duty to help foster good relations with potential allies."

Vaegon shook his head immediately. "No. Fuck no."

"But Vaegon—," Daenerys tried saying.

"Why would you even say that? It's ridiculous—," the king fumed, but was cut off by Raina.

"She's right, though," Raina said loud enough to draw both of their attentions. "Is she were to take a someone to husband, it could stifle much of the unrest. She doesn't necessarily need to perform wifely duties." She looked between both of her silver haired lovers, seeing the appreciation from Dany.

"Listen to her, Vae," Dany murmured as she reached to touch Vaegon's arm. His eyes flitted to it momentarily before letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Your Grace, it is the best course of action," Selmy stated from where he stood, having entered the room at the beginning of their conversation. "A marriage pact to unite the Merenese to House Targaryen could stifle much of the anger and resentment you are facing and being more allies to your cause," the knight glanced toward Loraq momentarily before saying, "As for the fighting pits, their reinsitution may benefit you more than you realize. They may be violent, but they very well may save you the heartache of angering other cities further and facing out right rebellion while the Harpy's Son continues to make attacks."

Raina looked to Vaegon, knowing he was weighing his options as he held his clasped hands over his mouth in a contemplative manner. It was apparent he didn't like what was best for their situation.

"So be it," Vaegon finally muttered. He looked to Loraq through his brow. "The fighting pits may return." He then looked to Daenerys. "We will pursue an end to this mock marriage you think will save us."

Without another word, the king was on his feet and retreating from the room, leaving the two women, the knight, and the noble where they stood in silence.

EAGER to see if the animal handlers they'd employed to work with the dragons were finding any success, Raina made her journey to the field where the beasts made their nests. The day was hazy with the promise of rain, but the Stark woman welcome warm showers in comparison to the sleet that would often fall in the north, chilling one to their bones. A breeze rolling off of the coast made its way over the prairie, bringing all of the sweet scents of wildflowers and salt on the air.

Her coupling with Daenerys and Vaegon just over a week before had left her feeling invigorated, as it had followed with plenty of other occasions. Part of her prayed his seed quickened inside her, so that she may provide an heir for him. Another to strengthen House Targaryen. Unfortunately, the desire was a two faced coin. If she were to bore him a child before they were wed and she were proclaimed one of his queen's, her babe would be born a bastard. Just as she was, a thought she couldn't bare. She and Jon had once made a pact together in their younger years, each agreeing they shouldn't bring their own bastards into the world. What would he if she bore one to the King of the Seven Kingdoms?

Making her way from the horse she'd rode down on from the city with Selmy accompanying her, Raina's dress billowed in the direction of the wind blew as she wandered over the soft grass toward the dragons. The handlers were present, a table set up nearby with the ancient Valyrian texts that had cost the crown a pretty penny to acquire. With Mereen's gold, it's purchase had hardly made a dent.

Haelyx emitted an intuitive hum deep within her scaled chest, the she-dragon tilting her head as Raina grew close. Despite having sat on the dragon's back and lived to tell of it, the woman was still cautious. Mistaking a dragons kindness as given was a deadly decision she would not risk, especially after reading of those who perished trying to claim a dragon during the Dance. Though, the closer Raina grew to the emerald beast, Haelyx drew close from where she'd been curled on the grass ignoring the handlers that were so desperately trying to fulfill their roll to the king.

Smirking warmly at the dragon that gazed at her with her eyes of molten gold, Raina outstretched a hand upward to where Haelyx was now looking down at her. It took a moment for the she-dragon to respond, but soon her scaly muzzle was pressed against Raina's palm. As usual, her hide was radiating an inviting heat.

"You have a bond with the dragon," Selmy stated from where he stood behind her, the breeze pushing around his grey hair.

"It would seem one is growing," Raina agreed. She chuckled half to herself. "I wonder what my brother would think of such a thing. The last time he had seen me, we were bidding farewell at the crossroads outside of Winterfell." She sighed. "And with him, he took my direwolf, Ryder." Many moons had passed since then.

Selmy stepped up to her side, his eyes never leaving the dragon standing before him. Both Haelyx and Drokar were nearing the size of a carriage house now, perhaps adequate size to carry a rider soon. Would she try then? Heavens no. But the woman would be lying to herself if she said she didn't have the thought. The first time she flew with Haelyx, Raina wanted Vaegon and Daenerys to be there, on dragon-back as well.

Haelyx nuzzled against Raina's hand enough that she lowered it,

"Lady Stark," the green-bearded Sid Bathral greeted Raina as he made his way over, the wind catching the folds of his colorful robes.

"Good morning, Ser," Raina dipped her head

"I mean to ask you of the king's mount, Rhaellor. Has their been word on the beasts location?" Sid asked.

Raina frowns. "He has not been seen in weeks, I'm afraid. We have had scouts in pursuit of just a glimpse of him, but with no luck. We can only wait."

Sid frowned as well, but nodded. "It is sad to see the dragon king with no dragon," the animal trainer mused morbidly.

"What on the dragon's progress?" She asked. She looked passed him to the handful of other trainers, who were scouring over the texts and talking amongst themselves nearby.

"We have read through the texts twice," he tells her with a shrug. "It has not been easy. But we have managed to decipher the dialect enough with the help of the translators you graciously provided for us. The beasts have been slow to cooperate, but they are."

Pleased with the news of the dragons, Raina smiled. "I am pleased to hear. The crown thanks you for your efforts, Sid Bathral. Progress is progress."

Sid dips his head in appreciation. "Soon, they will grow into the mightiest beasts in the world. Me and my company will be pleased to serve under His Grace then."

Raina dabbled on the thought herself, liking the thought of the future she knew was ahead of them. Dragons would soon fly over Westeros again, instilling fear and awe and all who saw them. Her gaze flitted to Haelyx, where she found the she-dragon looking directly at her. Her heart fluttered momentarily before a smirk appeared on her lips.