read my new story : American Fast & Furious NSFW
Pentos.
The manse of Magister Illyrio Mopatis was as opulent as ever.
But the man himself—a figure whose bulk rivaled a small mountain—was acting out of character. He wasn't reclining on his soft divan today. Instead, he was pacing anxiously back and forth in his study.
His expensive silk robes clung to his body with sweat, outlining the exaggerated curve of his belly.
"Magister, you have been walking for nearly an hour," a servant reminded him cautiously.
Illyrio had heard that Lynn detested slavery, so upon receiving news of Lynn's success, he had freed every slave in his household overnight, terrified of offending his new partner.
"Shut up!"
Illyrio waved his hand impatiently.
Only one word was spiraling madly through his mind.
Sugar.
White Sugar.
When Jorah Mormont had appeared before him, dusty and travel-worn, placing that small silk pouch on his desk, Illyrio had been dismissive at first.
But the moment he put that powder—whiter than snow—into his mouth, the Magister, who had tasted the world's finest delicacies, completely lost his composure.
It was a sweetness extreme enough to make the soul shiver.
Pure, noble, without a single trace of impurity.
He instantly understood the terrifying value represented by this substance.
The nobles of Westeros would start wars for this!
No, not just Westeros!
Essos, Sothoryos—the entire world would go mad for it!
"My Lord," Jorah's voice had been calm and confident. "Lord Lynn is willing to grant you the exclusive trading rights for this white sugar in exchange for leasing all your merchant ships."
Illyrio's heart had skipped a beat.
He knew this was a business deal that could change the geopolitical landscape of the world.
But he also knew this meant tearing up any treaties with Meereen and Yunkai. The fleets of those two cities had already blockaded Slaver's Bay.
But, as Lynn had predicted...
No merchant can refuse a profit of three hundred percent.
Illyrio wasn't just a qualified merchant. He was a top-tier speculator.
Illyrio stopped pacing abruptly. Greedy light burst from the beady eyes hidden behind layers of fat.
"I will order my entire fleet to set sail immediately!"
"Go to Lys, Tyrosh, Volantis!"
"Buy every scrap of grain, every ounce of iron, every bolt of cloth on the market!"
"Then, ship it all to Astapor!"
"But Magister, the fleets of Meereen and Yunkai..."
"To hell with them!"
A hideous expression appeared on Illyrio's face.
"Tell them that if they dare touch a single one of my ships, Lord Lynn's dragon will burn their cities into glass!"
He didn't actually believe Lynn would deploy a dragon just for him. But he understood the concept of the "fox borrowing the tiger's terror" better than anyone.
---
Astapor, The Manor.
Lynn listened to the news Jorah brought back, a smile of 'just as I expected' playing on his lips.
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
Just then, an Unsullied guard walked in briskly.
"My Lord."
"Viserys has been secured."
He dropped to one knee.
The smile vanished from Lynn's face. Before, he hadn't had the time to deal with Viserys. Now that the biggest problem—the blockade—was solved, it was time to address Viserys's attack on Daenerys.
Lynn nodded.
He turned and walked toward Daenerys's room.
Jorah moved to follow, but Lynn stopped him with a single look.
The door was unlatched.
Daenerys was sitting by the window, watching the busy figures outside, lost in thought. Her profile, bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun, was as beautiful as an oil painting, yet tinged with a lingering sorrow.
"I heard," Lynn said, walking up behind her and gently pulling her into his arms.
Daenerys's body trembled slightly as she leaned her head against his chest.
"I'm fine."
Her voice was muffled.
"Just... a little sad."
"I thought he retained at least a shred of Targaryen dignity."
"But he didn't."
"He was like a mad dog backed into a corner, wanting only to drag everyone down to hell with him."
Lynn offered no empty platitudes. He simply tightened his embrace.
"I'm sorry," Daenerys looked up suddenly, guilt in her violet eyes. "If I hadn't been so meddlesome, if I hadn't brought that healer..."
"This is not your fault," Lynn interrupted, kissing her forehead.
"You are simply too kind."
"Kindness is not a weakness, Dany. It never is."
"But for some who are beyond saving, mercy only emboldens them."
Daenerys fell silent.
She knew who Lynn was talking about.
"What will you do with him?" she asked softly.
"Everyone must pay the price for their mistakes."
"Death is the only destination left for Viserys."
Lynn's answer was simple and direct.
Daenerys stiffened. She had expected this outcome, but hearing it aloud made her heart clench as if squeezed by an invisible hand.
"I understand."
She closed her eyes, burying her face deeper into his shirt.
"I just... I don't want to see his hateful face again."
"Alright."
Lynn looked at her.
"Then let him make one final contribution to House Targaryen."
---
That Night.
The Plaza of Punishment.
Torches lit the square as bright as day.
Fully armed Unsullied stood silently around the perimeter, forming an impenetrable wall of humanity. Their faces were devoid of expression.
In the center of the plaza, a tall wooden platform had been hastily erected.
Viserys was pinned firmly to the platform by two Unsullied.
His hands were crippled, his mouth gagged; he could only make desperate, muffled whimpering sounds from his throat.
He stared at the object resting quietly on a velvet cushion near his feet.
A dragon egg.
It was pitch black, covered in fine, dark red veins that looked like magma flowing slowly beneath the surface.
Viserys's pupils constricted violently.
He instantly understood what Lynn intended to do.
He began to struggle frantically, his pale lilac eyes filled with begging.
Lynn didn't look at him.
His gaze was on Daenerys beside him.
Daenerys had changed into a black dress, her silver-gold hair dancing in the night wind. Her face was expressionless as she watched the figure twisting on the platform—her brother, who no longer looked human.
"Some say only death can pay for life," Lynn's voice rang out in the silent plaza.
"Others say only life can be exchanged for life."
"Today, let us verify this ancient prophecy."
He finished speaking and drew a dagger from his waist.
It was not Longclaw, but a dagger chipped from dragonglass. It was pitch black and radiated a ghostly chill.
Step by step, he walked up the wooden platform.
Viserys struggled even more violently.
Lynn crouched down and ripped the gag from his mouth.
"No! You can't do this to me!"
Viserys's scream pierced the night sky.
"I am the Dragon!"
"My blood is noble!"
"You cannot use it for this filthy ritual!"
"I am your King!"
"Dany! Save me! Save me!"
Daenerys just looked at him coldly, saying nothing.
"The Dragon?"
Lynn smiled.
He gripped Viserys's chin, pressing the edge of the dragonglass dagger against his throat.
"A dragon that would sell his own sister? A dragon that cannot even control his own emotions?"
"You are not a dragon, Viserys."
"You are just a cockroach that learned to speak."
With that, Lynn hesitated no longer.
Hand raised, blade fell.
Schlick——!
The sharp dragonglass easily sliced open Viserys's throat.
Hot blood gushed out like a fountain.
Viserys's eyes went wide. The light of life faded rapidly from his pupils.
Lynn grabbed him by the hair, positioning his neck over the black dragon egg.
"Blood of the King, awaken thy spirit!"
The scorching blood of the Targaryen line poured entirely onto the cold dragon egg.
A magical scene unfolded.
The moment the black egg touched the blood, the dark red veins on its surface began to glow faintly. It was as if a dry riverbed had been refilled with the water of life.
The entire egg began to tremble gently.
But that wasn't enough.
Lynn looked up at the sky.
Winter was already circling above, its three massive heads looking down curiously.
"Winter!"
Lynn called out.
"Dracarys!"
Winter let out a low growl.
It took a deep breath.
A second later, scorching dragonfire descended from the heavens, precisely enveloping the glowing, heating egg.
King's Blood and Dragon's Breath.
Crack——
A sound like the breaking of a shell at the dawn of creation rang out in the silent square.
A crack appeared on the surface of the pitch-black egg.
Then a second, a third...
Countless cracks spread rapidly like a spiderweb.
Boom!
The shell shattered completely.
A hatchling—pitch black all over, save for the spine and the edges of its wings which were accented with an eerie blood-red—poked its head out of the broken shell.
It shook off the sticky fluid coating its body and looked curiously at this brand-new world.
When its eyes met Lynn's, it let out a crisp cry, full of attachment and affection.
"Scree——!"
It moved its tender limbs, wobbling as it walked to Lynn's feet, nuzzling its small head affectionately against his boot.
In the plaza, after a brief moment of deathly silence, eight thousand Unsullied dropped to one knee in unison.
They raised their spears high and slammed the shafts into the ground, offering Lynn their most fanatical respect!
[You have killed Viserys Targaryen. XP +0.2]
Lynn ignored the system notification ringing in his mind.
His gaze looked past the newborn dragon to Daenerys.
Daenerys's face was wet with tears.
Looking at the newborn black dragon, she felt a hundred emotions mix in her heart.
The old Targaryen had died with the spilling of Viserys's blood.
And a new Targaryen had been reborn from the ashes of blood and fire.
"Grey Worm."
Lynn's voice rang out.
"Here, my Lord."
"Cut off his head. Treat it with lime and spices."
Lynn glanced at Viserys's still-warm corpse.
"I need to take it with me when I return to Westeros."
He bent down and picked up the black hatchling that kept rubbing against him.
The little guy was light, but its body was very warm.
Lynn looked into its golden eyes, which resembled molten lava, and suddenly smiled.
"From now on, your name is Night Fury."
Holding the hatchling named Night Fury, Lynn walked down from the platform and stood before Daenerys.
"Do you like him?"
Lynn held the hatchling out to her.
"He will stay by your side from now on."
Daenerys reached out a trembling hand and gently stroked Night Fury's smooth, warm scales.
The hatchling let out a comfortable purr.
She looked up, gazing into Lynn's eyes which looked exceptionally deep in the firelight, and nodded with all her strength.