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

He stared at the ceiling. He'd been doing a lot of that lately.

He woke up from his poppy-induced sleep to have Pycelle tell him he should make a full recovery, even if his left shoulder might give him problems for the rest of his life. Might give me problems for the rest of my life? What the fuck does that mean? By the way it pained him with every move he made, Jae could well believe it.

Pycelle offered to give him some more milk of the poppy, but Jae would have none of it. He preferred the pain to addled wits. He couldn't be heard murmuring incriminating things in his sleep.

Thus, the wound confined him to his bed for a fortnight, with nothing to do but read and talk to Jaime who altered between chastising him for risking his life "for a bloody snake" and praising him for the skill he showed during the battle. Neither one mentioned the boy who'd informed Jae about the attack on Oberyn. The official story claimed they'd been riding through the city and overheard the commotion.

Jae had long run out of books that were of any use, so his boredom and desire to be distracted from his thoughts led him to read books on the economies of the Free Cities. He read them because he had nothing better to do at first, but they grew on him with time.

An economy could reveal quite a lot about a certain country, culture or people. Each of the Free Cities provided something, whether it be location, a desirable commodity, or knowledge, all of which they traded among themselves and the rest of the world. But they based it all on slavery, no matter how hard they wanted to deny it.

The idea of cities where a person's lineage did not matter fascinated Jaehaerys, but the slavery repulsed him. Every empire and every kingdom to ever exist had been built on the bones of its enemies – Targaryens understood that better than most – but it sounded better than to sustain the state through the continued suffering of others.

Besides, it made them weak. Jaehaerys could just imagine if someone appeared before the gates of any one of the Free Cities with an army, claiming to want to free all the slaves.

Why didn't my ancestors take the opportunity? he wondered with no small amount of frustration.

People enjoy talking about the folly of Viserys I in naming a woman his Heir, but in Jae's opinion, the problems began much sooner than that. Jaehaerys Conciliator was widely regarded as the greatest King ever to sit the Iron Throne but Jae thought him an idiot.

He was too peaceful. He had an army of dragons at his command and more Targaryens than anyone knew what to do with. Surely he could have found two or three competent commanders among them and sent them to Essos to conquer everything in their path. The realm had enjoyed five decades of peace and prosperity under Jae's namesake. There must've been thousands of knights itching for a chance at glory and no place to find it.

If Jaehaerys had proposed the conquest of Essos, they would have jumped at the chance, and the narrative would have shifted. Targaryens would have begun to rebuild the Valyrian Empire of old and all ambitious members of the House would have focused their attentions on it. Instead, Jaehaerys consolidated his power and settled to rule over a peaceful realm.

A generation later, dragons fought dragons for control of land they already owned. Jae sneered at the very thought of it. If he met any of them in the Seven Hells, he'd line them up and spit in their faces.

Arrogant fools, he snarled to himself, they thought nothing could bring them low. They were right, in a way. If history has proven anything, it was that only Targaryens can destroy House Targaryen. And the fuckers certainly tried. Small men with small dreams who treated their dragons as pets instead of destructive engines of conquest.

The pain in his shoulder flared and visions of magnificent dragons disappeared from his mind, leaving only a dull ceiling in their wake. There's no point in getting worked up over the past. Dragons had disappeared from the world long ago, even if dreams of soaring through the sky on top of one kept plaguing his nights.

There was nothing left but petty politics and sharp blades. Gods help us. He sometimes wondered about the Tragedy of Summerhall and King Aegon's attempt to bring back dragons. Did he know something everyone else forgot or was it...

A knock on his door interrupted his musings.

Ser Jaime opened the door and stepped inside, revealing Prince Oberyn.

"Prince Oberyn is here to see you," Jaime said. "His breakfast was subpar, so he's come to blame you for it."

Jaehaerys wanted to laugh, and would have, if he hadn't caught the look on Oberyn's face.

He tried to smile welcomingly at the Prince, inwardly steeling himself for what was to come, and said, "Please, Prince Oberyn, come in."

He instinctually tried to sit up in bed to make himself look at least close to presentable, but his shoulder exploded in pain. He subsided back into a lying position, giving it up as a lost cause.

Oberyn nodded and stepped inside, moving to the chair at Jae's bedside as Jaime closed the door. He sat down and glanced back at the door. "Never thought I'd meet a loyal lion."

Jaehaerys said nothing, watching this strange man. He'd taken a bolt for him, no matter how foolishly, and now it was time to capitalize on it. Would the act itself be enough to convince Oberyn of his trustworthiness? No, most likely not. The conversation that followed would come to decide Oberyn's true feelings.

The Prince of Dorne had tested the waters by using Connington, learning Jaehaerys had nothing to hide, but now came the time to decide if Jaehaerys could be trusted to help protect Aegon.

Oberyn's eyes turned to Jaehaerys then, and he said, "But I've seen stranger things."

A good start if ever there was one. Jaehaerys only nodded in response. He had played this conversation in his head many times and decided he should be closed off at first. Insulted, even. It would be the expected reaction – Oberyn had accused Jaehaerys of plotting to kill him moments before Jaehaerys saved his life.

Oberyn sat up straight in his chair, most uncharacteristic of him, as though steeling himself for what he had to do. "You saved my life, my Prince," he said. "I am eternally in your debt and..." He cleared his throat. "I apologize for my words. I—I let my fears get the better of me."

Jaehaerys respected him for saying so in spite of his struggling apology. Or perhaps because of it. "Apology accepted, Prince Oberyn," Jaehaerys replied, his tone clipped.

"Please, call me Oberyn, at least when we're in private. I owe you a life debt, there is no need for such formalities."

Ah, yes, life debts, Jaehaerys thought, remembering all he read about them during his studies of Dornish history and culture.

The Rhoynar considered them sacred and believed the people who shared them bound for life. To harm a man you owe a life debt would be akin to breaking guest right in the rest of the kingdoms if it weren't for certain... caveats. If the man who saved your life should come to threaten your family, all talk of life debts would quickly be forgotten. Having read his fair share of Dornish history, Jaehaerys knew better than most that this little clause had been exploited quite a few times over the centuries, and that Oberyn's paranoia about Jae's ambitions might seize on the opportunity.

All in all, it would grant him some favor with the Viper, but not much beyond that. Though Jaehaerys had no plan to harm the Martells, Oberyn could easily produce a justifiable reason for acting against Jae. The former Lord Regent came to mind.

Still, Jaehaerys should've felt ecstatic. His plan had worked perfectly, ignoring some of the minor problems, but he couldn't help but lament the knowledge that only through scheming could a man like Oberyn look upon him with anything other than suspicion.

To prove them wrong, I have to prove them right. It might've been the most ridiculous thought Jaehaerys ever had, but it also happened to be the truth. He couldn't escape the taint of his parents' actions without resorting to plots.

Except for Ser Jaime, he thought, but another part of him quickly countered, he was there when Queen Rhaella was raped. He couldn't save her, so he chose to save you. Another situation that stirred up feelings of loyalty in Ser Jaime, even if you weren't the one to set it up.

But he would be the one to do so with everyone else. He doubted even the honorable Eddard Stark would be able to look at him without the ghosts of the past clouding his sight.

"Then you may call me Jaehaerys, my—Oberyn." He allowed a sheepish smile at his almost-mistake. Yes, be nervous as a maiden before the bedding, it only makes you appear more honest.

"Is your wound healing well?" Oberyn asked after a moment of awkward silence.

Jaehaerys glanced down at the bandages covering it. "Grand Maester Pycelle claims I will make a good recovery."

"Good, that is good. It isn't your sword arm, but still..."

"I would like to lift my left hand over my head again, yes."

"You'll get to show it around and brag how you saved me to anyone who will listen."

"Judging by your reputation, some people might not thank me for that," Jaehaerys replied, feeling bold. Too bold, he thought worriedly when Oberyn froze, only for him to throw his head back and laugh.

"You might be right," he said. "Especially should you ever find yourself in Lys."

"I'll keep it in mind."

After the smiles died down, somberness returned when Oberyn asked, "I trust you've been told King Aegon is arriving to the capital in a fortnight?"

"It's hard to miss all the maids who are buzzing with the news."

"It's not just them." Oberyn ran a hand through his hair. "All of Westeros seems to be descending on the capital, hoping to welcome their new King."

Jaehaerys grimaced genuinely at that. "Mayhaps I'll rip my stitches and stay in bed for another couple of weeks."

Oberyn huffed in amusement. "I can just imagine Lord Stark's reaction if you weren't there to greet him."

Jaehaerys vaguely pictured a hulking man rampaging the halls of the Red Keep in search of him, and found the idea quite comforting. With nothing to say, a silence fell upon the room. Jaehaerys did his best not to fidget because he had a question he wanted to ask, and before he could think it through, he blurted out, "What is Aegon like?"

Oberyn, whose eyes had been on the floor, looked up at him. "Are you asking about your half-brother or your King?"

"Is there a difference?"

"I suppose not," Oberyn allowed. "He does not hate you, of that you can be sure. People of Dorne were angry and insulted when Rhaegar escaped with your Lady mother, but Dorne... we understand passion and how it drives people. Aegon does as well."

"Even after thousands of Dornishmen died on the Trident?" Jaehaerys asked.

Oberyn winced and answered all his questions. Jae did not bother to point out Oberyn did not truly answer the question about Aegon. Madman, weakling, or a fool? I just hope he isn't a foolish weakling.

"They fought for Elia, to protect her from the Mad King."

And the only reason she needed protection was because of Rhaegar and my mother, Jaehaerys concluded, knowing better than to press the point.

"I should let you rest." Oberyn stood. He moved to the door, but paused with his hand on the door hands, and looked over his shoulder. "I've been told you are a well-read man. You know what life debts mean to the Dornish. Should you ever have need of me, you need but ask."

Jaehaerys gave him a solemn nod. "I thank you, Prince Oberyn."

He got a nod in return before the Red Viper left his chambers, closing the door behind him.

Jaehaerys let out a deep breath. That had gone even better than he could have hoped. The faces of the mercenaries he'd killed to win Oberyn's trust flashed through his mind. The face of the man whom he used to arrange the entire affair. But more than anything, Dennis haunted him, the young boy who'd alerted him to the time and place of the attack on Oberyn.

Jaehaerys had sneaked out of his chambers two nights earlier to meet with him. He was only a few years younger than Jaehaerys, but brave and clever, and loyal! Jae could not erase the boy's face from his mind, the shock and betrayal when Jae's dagger found the boy's throat.

It haunted his dreams along with fears that the mercenary who arranged the hit had talked. Jaehaerys had paid him a small fortune but the information that the Crown Prince had paid for the assassination of a Prince of Dorne was worth even more.

He had no chance, Jaehaerys told him. Jae had given the order, then followed the mercenary as he relayed those orders and paid the men who would do the deed. Jae promptly slew him after that.

The worst part was that he could do nothing but wait. If he had made a mistake, if he hadn't countered the Spider's methods as well as he thought, then one night guards would appear at his door and that would be the end. They hadn't so far, but Jae did not know how long he would have to wait before he could consider himself in the clear. 

Above all, he prayed it was worth it.

He'd made himself a murderer for it, so it better be.