Frozen Flames: The Saga of the Ice Dragon (Completed)

"I dreamed of all the things the two of us could do once, you know?" Aegon asked. "Conquer Essos, when I was younger. Bring peace when I got older."

His purple eyes gleamed. Aegon sat with his knees to his chest, leaning against the dark wall of his cell. Ser Barristan held a torch, standing by the entrance while Jae sat opposite Aegon. The shadows danced on the walls, the dark eager to reclaim its lost territory, but Aegon's haunted eyes remained as clear as ever.

Does he expect me to show mercy? "I dreamed the same."

"I know." Aegon took a sip from the skin of wine Jae brought him. "I rather failed, haven't I?"

Their eyes met and the slaughter of the Battle at Death's Doorstep returned to the forefront. Jae could see the crows circling in the sky. It's only been weeks. Surely the memory will fade.

"Not entirely," Jae said. "There will be peace now. You've pulled all the traitors down with you."

"I rather hoped I'd be alive to see it."

Aegon handed back the skin of wine. Jae took a sip and wiped his lips with his sleeve. "Traitors go to the Wall. Their leaders go to the block."

"I know." He stared at Jae. "So why are you here?"

"The entire Realm is converging on the capital for the trials, and to beg mercy." He paused for a beat. "The Lords of Dorne are among them."

"Ah." Aegon nodded in understanding. "You wish for me to confess."

The cold, black stone pressed against his back as he watched Aegon. "You said you wanted peace. Your confession gives me a chance to secure it."

"And ruin the Martells." Aegon took another sip from the skin. "You get to avoid all cries to free Oberyn."

Jae stared at him, at the flour sack Aegon had been made to wear as he'd been paraded through the streets of the capital That might've been a mistake. "There are no cries to free Oberyn. Even Elia has confessed."

"Why do you need me to confess then?" But as soon as Aegon asked the question, he perked up, and the answer came to him. "You're afraid people will cast me as another victim of the Martells, aren't you? That they'd deceived me as well, and that I simply fought for what I believed was right."

Aegon had hit the nail on the head, but Jae couldn't admit it. "There are others who will testify you were fully aware of your lineage long before you came to the capital."

"Which will be dismissed by everyone." Aegon's sharp, bitter smile cut through the dark. "Coerced lies made by people looking for mercy."

Jae decided to change his tune. "Most likely. It won't make any difference to me. It will determine your place in history, however."

Aegon cocked his head. "Will it now?"

"You'll hardly be the first pretender who'll go to his grave trying to cause as much damage as possible."

The two stared at each other for a long moment, then Aegon burst out laughing – a high, cruel sound that bounced around the cell. "A good attempt, Jaehaerys. But it won't convince me."

"You want more war?"

Aegon snorted. "Why should it make any difference to me? I won't be alive to see it. But the knowledge that I can stick to you…" Aegon licked his lips. "That's enough to make me drool, and there's nothing you can do to convince me otherwise. It's one of the benefits of losing, I suppose. You have nothing left to threaten me with, and even you, the great Ice Dragon, could never convince people to follow your noble ideals without having something to offer or someone to threaten."

"You think there's no one I can threaten?" Jae regarded him with a serene expression that, more than his question, seemed to perturb Aegon.

He searched Jae's expression for clues, and spat, "You have nothing! What're you going to do, kill the Martells? I hate them even more than you do, you fool!"

"I know." Jae felt a slight smile come on his face. "That's why Arianne is pregnant with my child and will become the next Princess of Dorne. The Martells have left you behind and knelt for me, Aegon. Why would I want to harm them?"

"You—Arianne… Who then? What do you have?"

Jae took his sweet time with the answer, pouring more wine into his mouth. "Myrcella."

Aegon paused, then fell back against the wall, laughing. "What? You think I'm in love with that foolish little girl?"

"No. But that foolish little girl is carrying your child. If you don't confess, what kind of a life do you think that child will live?"

"You're lying." Aegon closed his eyes and started shaking his head. "They would've told me."

"Who would've told you? Tywin Lannister? You know, when I found out that they kept her pregnancy secret, I started thinking that maybe Tywin didn't plan for you to survive the battle, what do you think?"

"You're lying!"

Jae got to his feet with a groan. He capped the wineskin and threw it in Aegon's lap. "You confess, and I'll ensure that child has a good life. Knighthood if it's a boy. A good marriage if it's a girl. But if you don't… Well, I'll let you ponder that one."

As he moved through the doorway, Aegon said, "Tywin said we should execute Daenerys and send her your head. He said the rage would've blinded you, and kept your mind away from the politics you love so much."

Jae turned back to him, fighting back the tide of dread that rose in his chest at the very thought of it. "Why didn't you?"

"Didn't want to win the war that way." He bit back a snarl. "Though I'd have done it if I knew it was the only way to win the war."

"You're not the first one to become a monster in the face of defeat, Aegon. You should be grateful I'll make sure not many will get to see you this way," Jae told him and walked away without another word. Barristan's torch lit their way through the darkness and up the stairs out of the Black Cells.

The cells on the next floor were far kinder to its prisoners; they sat behind bars rather than in closed cells, and the thin ray of light from above gave them at least some respite from the unending darkness. Some sat inside, fully accepting of their fate. Tyrion Lannister watched Jae pass with quiet eyes, saying nothing, but Cersei Lannister gripped the bars as she saw him approach.

"Traitor! Usurper!" she screamed, a look of unholy madness on her face. Her once-flowing golden hair had become a matted mess of dirt and grime. "Lannisters always pay their debts!"

Yes, and you'll pay them in blood. Jae walked on without a word. When Jae and Ser Barristan emerged outside, Ser Barristan said, "Forgive me Your Grace, but Lady Myrcella is not actually pregnant, is she?"

Jae began walking in the direction of Maegor's Keep. "No, of course not."

"I see," Ser Barristan replied, though he clearly didn't.

Jae did not have the time to explain himself. He took them through the gates of Maego's Holdfast, and up the wide staircase to the first floor where the least distinguished and the most unwanted guests were always given quarters. At the end of the hallway, he found a pair of Baratheon men standing before a door.

They snapped to attention when they spied Jae's approach. "Is she in?" he asked them.

"Yes, Your Grace," one of them replied.

Jae nodded and they opened the door for him. Inside he found the Lady Myrcella sitting on a sofa in front of the window, her gaggle of maidens arrayed in a half-circle of pillows on the floor. Jae heard a gasp as they recognized him and hurried to their feet.

"Your Grace," Myrcella said and curtsied, still the picture of courtly manners and grace.

Jae's eyes fell on her maidens. "Leave us."

Without looking to their mistress, the maidens bowed and hurried out of the room. Jae made his way into the room proper. Myrcella stood in front of the sofa, hands clasped before her. She wore a green dress, the shade of an emerald, and her golden curls tumbled past her shoulders. Her doe eyes still had the same innocent look to them, as though she wasn't a woman wedded and bedded to a traitor, as though her family did not stand on the brink of ruin.

Jae kept his eyes on her and said nothing, wondering how long it would take before her mask began to crack, and found his answer when Myrcella averted her gaze and her hands began to fidget. "Are you pregnant?" he asked.

She looked up and seemed more scandalized than terrified by the question. As though the assumption that she had been bedded was too much for her sensibilities. "No, Your Grace." She shook her head.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Princess Daenerys asked me the same question. And she told me to drink moon tea to prove it."

Jae's eyebrows shot up. A good precaution on Dany's part, though undoubtedly a ruthless one. Knowing she's capable of it might come in useful, though. "You recognize the position of your family, do you not?"

"I do," she said with the same tone that she undoubtedly used when the Septons asked her about her belief in the Seven. "Though I am not sure what is to become of them."

"Lady Cersei will go to the Silent Sister. Lord Tyrion will be executed, same as your brother Joffrey. Only you and Tommen will remain."

Myrcella swallowed and tears began to pool in her eyes, but she kept her composure. "I understand."

Jae put on his stern mask and clasped his hands behind his back. "They tell me I ought to do more. Kill Tommen as well, and take the Rock. I must admit I am tempted. Your family has broken every law laid down by Gods and men."

 Myrcella stared at him. "And—And will you?"

"That depends on you, my Lady."

"How so?"

"Your husband is facing execution. But before he dies, he must confess he knew of his false claim to the Throne. And only you can convince him."

"I do not think he will listen to me, Your Grace."

"I did not suggest you should talk to him," Jae said in a harsh voice and took a step closer. Myrcella found herself trapped between him and the sofa. "You will stuff some pillows in your dress, make it seem as though you are pregnant. And when he is marched to testify in front of the Court, you will cry tears of tragedy at the fate of Aegon and his unborn child. And if anything in your performance makes him doubt the truth of these claims, I assure you, you will die alongside your brothers."

Myrcella fell back onto the sofa and instantly broke down in sobs.

"If you succeed, however, you will spend your life here at the Red Keep, a Lady of the Court to ensure Tommen's behavior. You will never want for anything. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Myrcella replied through her sobs. "I promise, I will find a way to convince him."

"Wise choice." Jae stared down at her, and wanted to offer some comfort, but it would be of no use – she needed to feel the fear. Let her cry at the sight of Aegon, not out fear for their child but out of fear for herself. Maybe Aegon won't be able to tell the difference.

Jae stood in the courtyard of the Red Keep once more, the entire Court arrayed behind him. But this time Jae was happy to welcome guests because the Starks of Winterfell had traveled down the King's Road to attend his coronation and witness the fate of the traitors.

The Dornish Princesses were absent from the welcoming party, but the rest had come, and Jae couldn't help but notice that Daenerys chose to stand to the right of Lord Orys, the two of them whispering between each other the entire time. Daenerys placed her hand on Orys' shoulder on three separate occasions as she laughed at his comments, and Orys himself seemed more than pleased to enjoy the attention of the Princess, though entirely clueless as to what it might mean.

Jae had to restrain himself, double down on his decision, and keep his eyes ahead. He'd sent a carriage for the Lady Catelyn and her daughters, while Lord Stark and two of his sons led the procession through the gates of the Red Keep.

Eddard looked much the same as he always had – grim-faced, wearing a leather brigandine, the famous Ice at his hip. But the lines on his face seemed more pronounced, and Jae saw the first strands of silver hair in his ponytail.

Robb was dressed much like his father, but his auburn hair seemed to have darkened, and boyhood had escaped his features. Now he had a stubble of a beard and he seemed to have grown into his wide shoulders, filling the gaps with muscles.

The younger boy who could only be Brandon, looked exactly as Robb must have a few years ago. But there was another man with them, an aged knight by the look of him, though Jae couldn't place his face.

The three Stark men dismounted their horses and walked to the carriage to help the woman of the family out. Lady Catelyn came out first, wearing a dark blue dress, the hair her boys had inherited pulled up in a braid. Lady Sansa followed, and Jae saw a number of young knights try to hide their reactions at the sight of the northern beauty, her rosy cheeks and smooth features so enchanting.

 Together, they all approached and went down on one knee. "Your Grace," Lord Stark said, his head bowed.

"Rise, nuncle, please. Welcome to the capital. It is very good to see you."

The Starks rose to their feet, a smile of relief on Ned's face. "And you, Your Grace. All of the North celebrated when word reached us of your victories."

"I am happy to hear that, Lord Stark." Jae's eyes went over the children Ned had brought along. "I was under the impression that you had two daughters and three sons, did they not come along?"

"No, Your Grace." Ned offered a wry smile. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell."

Jae hadn't heard of that line before, but its tone seemed to match what he had come to expect from the family. He turned and gestured toward the gates of Maegor's Holdfast. "Chambers have been prepared for you and your family. I am sure you'd like to get some rest."

"Sansa and Brandon would need some, I am sure, but the rest of us were hoping if we could talk to Your Grace as soon as possible."

Jae paused and examined the faces of the Starks. Ned seemed hesitant, bashful even, and Robb looked much the same, but Lady Catelyn and the stranger both seemed tense. Jae took a step closer. "I apologize, I don't recall your face. What is your name, Ser..."

"Ser Brynden Tully, Your Grace. An honor to meet you." The man's face looked like beaten, wrinkled leather, and he had silver hair, but he was tall and had a presence to him. Jae imagined he would not enjoy a duel with the man.

"The Blackfish," Jae said, suspecting what the conversation would be about. "I was very sorry to hear about the death of your nephew."

"Thank you, Your Grace. But Ser Edmure made some unwise decisions."

Jae kept his eyes with the Blackfish's until the man averted his gaze. Then he offered an olive branch. "Yes, but necessity makes slaves of us all, does it not?"

"Yes, Your Grace. As you say."

Jae turned to the Steward. "Lead Lord Brandon and Lady Sansa to their quarters." He turned to the grown-ups. "You follow me."

He led them across the outer courtyard and through the doors of the Throne Room. They walked the length of the hall behind him, Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan providing a screen, and he took them past the Iron Throne into the Small Council chambers.

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the chairs as he took his place at the head of the table.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Lady Catelyn said. "And my apologies for this hurried audience."

"That's quite alright, my Lady." Jae waved her apology away. "Now, is this about Lord Brandon's inheritance, or the role of Riverrun in the Riverlands."

Lord Stark, Robb, Lady Catelyn, and the Blackfish all exchanged looks.

Jae did not deign to wait for their answer. "I was under the impression that the Blackfish was a man famous for his resistance to the concept of wedlock. Has that changed?"

"No, Your Grace," the Blackfish replied, looking at Jae as though he thought him a very interesting phenomenon.

"So you object to the loss of the Wardenship?"

That's when Lady Catelyn leaned forward. "Your Grace, our family has held the position since Aegon the Dragon landed in Westeros. We've heard rumors of your decision to revoke that title, and wanted to ask you to reconsider."

"I understand your position, my Lady, but your family line will die out with the Blackfish."

"But Brandon can still assume the position, Your Grace."

"That gives House Stark control of two kingdoms, my Lady. I cannot allow such an imbalance in power."

"So you'd rather take advantage to seize power for yourself, boy?" the Blackfish asked.

Lord Stark and Robb both threw him a sharp look, while Lady Catelyn went stiff. "Your Grace," she said, "please forgi—"

Jae raised a hand and she fell quiet. "I cannot give the Riverlands to the Starks. I cannot give it to any other house of the Riverlands, either, or I'll have to mediate a war within the year. So tell, good Ser, what alternative would you choose?"

The Blackfish stared at her, huffed, and got to her feet. He looked to Lady Catelyn. "I'm sorry, Cat. I should've listened to your father long ago." And without another word, he walked out of the Small Council chambers.

Lady Catelyn said, "Your Grace—"

"That's quite alright, my Lady. I understand emotions will run high in such situations. I am very sorry that your family has to go through this."

She swallowed and nodded. She made to leave the chambers, Robb following her, but Jae gestured for Lord Stark to stay behind. When the doors closed, Lord Stark said, "I told them the same. But they had to hear it from you."

"I understand," Jae said. "How are your lands? The Wildlings cause you much trouble?"

"Enough to keep me from helping you," Ned said with a guilty look. "I would gladly kill Mance Rayder all over again just for that."

"Ah, don't worry so much, Uncle, it all worked out in the end." Then a puzzled look came over Jae's face. "I understand why you've brought Lord Brandon with you, but why Lady Sansa? Looking for a southern marriage?"

Ned nodded, rubbing his beard. "Cat is keen on it, though I'm not sure."

Jae hummed and immediately a thought popped into his head. He wanted to hold it back, but it sprang from his mouth before he could stop it, and then his resistance crumbled completely. "Lord Orys might be a good match. Have you considered it?"