Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Chapter VI.

Author's Note- Thanks to those who reviewed. This next chapter is a little shorter and more of an interlude and a bit of a filler. It does show just how much Harry's magical abilities have grown and some of what he's capable of. This chapter resolves the JonCon and Faegon question for this fic and is also really the last chapter of their childhood's. While not quite grown, events will have them all forcibly maturing quickly. It's also because I have a hard time writing children and their dialogue, and am ready do get that part over with- again this is a bit of a filler, but necessary. I'll be posting the next chapter hopefully tomorrow. Thanks again!

Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.

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Jaehaerys POV. II

Three Years Later

Pentos, 292 AL.

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His father, grandmother, and Jaehaerys were all ensconced within his father's solar. He looked up at his dad then and couldn't help his thought's.

'His dyed black hair just looked...wrong somehow.'

Himself, his father, and likely everyone else would be glad when he could be rid of the disguise. He knew that he certainly did not like to have to conceal his identity in public. Their time would come though, of that he had no doubt.

His father looked like something was troubling him.

"Papa, what's troubling you so? I know we have a great deal on our plate at the moment, but you don't usually look so troubled." He asked.

Rhaegar looked at his brilliant son and heir. He hated bringing his battling thoughts to his son's notice, but his mother was right. His boy could handle nearly anything. No man could have ever been prouder of his son than Rhaegar Targaryen was of his beloved boy.

"Your grandmother believes you to be ready to be included in our councils, and I cannot fault her arguments. You are uncommonly intelligent, as you well know, and you often have perspectives none of us would think on." He said.

"Thank you. I shall always help you in any way I am able, Father." He replied with a touch of formality and pride in his tone.

Having parents in his life was such a wondrous experience that he sometimes almost needed to pinch himself to make certain it was all real. He'd never previously experienced authority figures and loved ones being proud of him before, and he always strove to make his father especially as proud of him as possible.

"What's wrong?" He asked again.

Rhaegar let out a deep sigh.

"I have received a rather detailed report from Lord Varys that is both...insidious...and frightening."

"A report of what nature, My Son?" Rhaella asked.

Rhaegar sat behind his desk to fully face his mother and son.

"There is a magister here in Pentos, a Magister Illyrio Mopatis, that Lord Varys had long thought to be a staunch ally. His report's tell us he is in fact anything but an ally. He is an enemy possibly worse than any we've yet faced since our exile began." Rhaegar began worryingly.

"Illyrio, isn't that the magister that spoke up for us in my name to the Council of Magisters?" The Queen asked.

"Indeed, he is Mother. Varys has apparently worked hard for quite some time to discover the truth of the man, for evidently some things were beginning to make him suspicious. Of course, Lord Varys is suspicious of everybody, but he noticed a pattern of discrepancy between word and deed in Illyrio. What he found...well, it is worrying to say the least. It seems as if perchance our old enemy is not quite as dead as we'd have liked to believe." Rhaegar informed them.

The Queen gasped in shock at that revelation, while he was more confused.

'Old Enemy'? Who could he be referring to? Surely not the name that immediately came to mind when thinking of old enemies of House Targaryen? Weren't they all supposed to be dead?

'Weren't most of you?' His own mind retorted sarcastically.

If it was possible for them to fake their death's, who's to say Daemon's line did not do the same?

"You're not speaking of the Usurper, are you Father?"

Rhaegar shook his head.

"No, My Son. He has no ties to the Usurper; at least not any we're aware of. Apparently, Illyrio himself is the last known descendant through the female line (that I was unaware even existed) of Daemon Blackfyre." Rhaegar shocked him by saying.

"That's it? That's all the plotting concerns?" Haery asked his father.

"Would that it was." Rhaegar lamented.

"No, it gets worse. Apparently, Illyrio's second wife, Serra; was the last known descendant of Aerion Brightflame. She was the daughter of Prince Maegor Targaryen; the man's youngest and only surviving child." Rhaegar told them gravely.

"King Maekar's son? The crazy elder brother of Grandmother's grandfather; Aegon the Fortunate? The one who drank wildfire thinking he'd become a dragon? That Aerion Targaryen?" Haery asked shocked.

That was bad. Aerion Brightflame's son, Maegor, potentially had a better claim to the Iron Throne than they did, but the Great Council of 233 bypassed Aerion's son due to his father's madness.

"Rhaegar, did you say that Illyrio's son was Aerion's descendant through the female line?" Queen Rhaella asked piercingly.

Blackfyre's were one thing, they were so far removed by that point, they could barely be called cousins; let alone kin. Aerion's descendants though...they were rather close kin.

"Yes, Mother. The male line thankfully died with Aerion's son, Prince Maegor." Rhaegar replied.

"Neither my father nor my grandfather were ever able to find out exactly what became of Maegor. He was supposed to have joined the Citadel, but went missing right before he was to enter. They traced him in the Free Cities for a number of years till he just vanished. They assumed he'd died. They'd both been worried that he'd produce a son. That would have endangered our own claim...a daughter however...that's much less dangerous. Rhaenyra ruined the only chance we had to restore the old Valyrian succession laws with her failure."

That was as close as you'd ever get to hearing Queen Rhaella utter a word of reprove about Rhaenyra Targaryen, whom she generally admired.

"However, it gets even worse than that." He added.

"Worse?" The Queen asked.

"How could it possibly get worse? Don't tell me one of my Uncle Duncan's children somehow bred into that line of pretenders too?" Rhaella questioned; fury beginning to fill her vein's at the threat so close to her darling son and sweet grandchildren.

Rhaegar actually managed a grin at that.

"No, Mother. We are not that unlucky."

"Thank the god's for small mercies." He heard the Queen mumble near inaudibly

"However, we do face a large problem. Varys has discovered that Illyrio and Serra had a son near to Jaehaerys in age. Apparently, the boy bears all the traditional traits of our bloodline. So much so that the boy is...supposedly...being raised by a somehow suddenly alive Jon Connington aboard some ship pretending to be my so-called...son, 'Aegon'."

The disgust and anger was easily manifest in his father's voice. That those pretenders would take advantage of the memory of his supposedly dead 'son' to try and foist him off on the people of Westeros as Aegon VI was infuriating to Rhaegar.

The eyes of both his grandmother and his own were huge by that point; such was their shock and incredulity.

'This was bad. This was very bad.'

He would have to remedy this before it had the chance to devolve into a true threat to them- by any means necessary.

"Lord Varys is certain the man is truly Lord Connington?" Rhaella asked.

"There is no doubt about it. It is he, or so Varys claim's. He also thoroughly believes the boy to be my son and heir." Rhaegar confirmed.

"Well, he'll be in for quite the shock I'd imagine. Jon Connington was never informed of our ruse, was he? I can't seem to recall if he was let in on the truth or not?" Rhaella asked.

"No, Jon never knew the truth. He thought Aegon to actually be my son. You remember his feeling's towards Elia. I did not fully trust him with such knowledge."

'Ah, yes. He remembered now hearing certain rumors about Jon Connington and his...affections...towards his father. He also despised the Princess Elia and thought her unfit. No, he would not have told him the truth either.' Haery thought silently.

The Queen let out an inelegant snort of derisive amusement. His grandmother apparently shared his own opinion of the man.

"Yes, I recall Lord Connington's...distaste...for my good-daughter...Or any other young lady that had eyes for you for that matter. I would not have shared the truth with him. He'd have been too tempted to let something...slip...where Aerys could have gotten wind of it just to have gotten rid of Elia." Rhaella said.

Rhaegar had no reply to that except to merely nod his head in silent agreement.

"Well, obviously they shall all need to be dealt with, in my opinion at least. Illyrio's assets and contacts are vast, as are his connections to the Golden Company; too vast to ever be allowed to work against us. It would need dealing with before we gave them the offer we were planning on." The Queen said firmly.

His mind was whirling with possibilities. He knew of course that they could simply have Illyrio and the Brightflame-Blackfyre boy killed. He was not too naïve as to not believe such things were at times necessary. However, he also had another idea that just might put them to much better use.

He was also curious about what 'offer' his grandmother was referring to.

"What 'offer' to the Golden Company were you speaking of, Grandmother?" He inquired.

She briefly looked to his father who nodded his head in unspoken permission to inform him.

"Our revenues are now such between the incomes from our shipping enterprises, our fleet's for hire, and the massive returns the canal has brought to us that we are presently in a firm enough financial state to afford to buy out the Golden Company's contract. We planned to put them on permanent retainer. We know that any day now, we could easily be exposed. The Usurper cannot be allowed to learn that there are so many of us alive until we have at least one professional army at our back." The Queen explained.

"Brilliant. If we can now afford that, we can soon begin to step up our plans. The longer Baratheon believes father to merely be Aerys' bastard son, the further our plans may proceed unhindered. With the Golden Company at our disposal, we'd also be able to really step up construction of the new town at Kingsport. We'd not be forced to rely upon quite so many of the Lord Admiral Velaryon's marines to guard it and our people." He agreed.

"Now, I would like for you both to consider something. We could of course simply have this threat disposed of, and be done with it, but I believe I can put them to much better use." Haery told them.

"How could we possibly use them to our benefit?" His father asked while his grandmother raised a curious silver brow.

He swallowed involuntarily. He did not like the thought of using his powers in such a way...in even contemplating doing what he had in mind...but there was nothing he would not do to protect his family. Besides, it was surely better than the alternative for all involved.

"My magic is strong enough now that I know I can do this. You already know I can gain access to a normal persons mind, yes?"

They both nodded their head's in confirmation.

"Well, I'm strong enough now that I can also bend a mind to my will- a normal human's mind anyway. I doubt it would work on anyone with very much magical ability. I know it would not work on any of the family, but I believe Illyrio's blood would be too diluted for it to be able to protect him from my powers. That, I'm certain of. I can make him give us his full and unequivocal support, as well as remove certain facts from his knowledge. He will no longer even remember his connection to the Blackfyre's or his wife's to the Brightflame. With a couple of subtle spells, I can also insure the boy is totally loyal to us always if it proves necessary. Considering his age though, he may not require such methods, and when you combine both sides of his bloodlines...well...he is family and may prove useful. Illyrio would just need to remain in fairly close proximity to my magic some of the time. There would be no need to dispose of them, and we would have access to all of Illyrio's political and financial capital." He explained calmly.

His grandmother looked not only thoroughly intrigued by the prospect, but also deeply impressed. His father on the other hand looked anxious, but did not appear immediately dismissive of the idea either considering what the alternative was.

"You are certain you can do it? If you failed, they'd have to be disposed of immediately. We could not allow the man to find out who I truly am. I don't like the idea of controlling someone like that, but considering what they'd have done to us, and what the man planned to do to us (as well as what we'd have to do to them otherwise)- it is preferable." Rhaegar said with a sigh.

He really did not like the idea of his son having to be involved in such matters, but he supposed it was better than the alternative.

"Yes, I'm certain I can do it." He promised.

"It is agreed then, yes?" The Queen asked.

"Aye." His father said.

"Alright, I shall invite the good magister to tea. I'm certain he'll bring a couple of guards with him but Jaehaerys can handle them easily enough, Unsullied or not." Rhaella told them.

"I'll be ready. It will work. It's better than the alternative, and considering what I'm certain the Magister would likely do to us, I don't have any qualms about it." Jaehaerys told them; standing up as his father and grandmother did the same.

"I don't like it, but you're right, and sometimes we are forced by circumstance to do things we'd rather not. I'm proud of you, Jaehaerys. You'll make a fine king some day." His father told him with a proud look.

"Thank you, Papa. I won't let you down." He replied seriously.

"You never have." Rhaegar said quietly as he hugged his firstborn son close to his side.

Haery watched through a non-descript iron vent set into the wall as his lady grandmother stood to welcome their...guest...as the man and his guard's entered the room. The first through the door were two Unsullied guards in the usual uniform. Following behind them was a monstrously fat man by the name of Illyrio Mopatis that happened to be the reason for the gathering.

Or so he thought. Though, he supposed in a way, he was. Just not the way he was certain the pretender would like.

He had never seem anybody as fat as the man before him in his entire life. Actually, he did not think he'd never seen anyone that fat in either life (and considering how massive he remembered his so-called, 'uncle' and, 'cousin' being that was really saying something). He had unending rolls of fat that flowed off the his massive bulk in huge waves. His gargantuan weight was truly enormous. The man had yellow-blonde hair and a forked yellow beard. Haery could smell the man's loud perfumes attempting (and failing) to conceal the disgusting pig of a man's odious and rank stench. Every single finger on the man's bulbous hands were adorned with large bejeweled rings that appeared to him to be an excess of gaudiness. The rich fabric of his expensive robes could have served as a feasting tent, so expansive were they.

All in all, Haery thought the man to be a disgusting parody of the personification of gluttony and greed in all it's decadent excess.

On mere sight alone, he liked him not, and that was without taking in to consideration what the vile man and his aim's would have seen done to his family.

No, he would have no problem bending this filthy mass of flesh masquerading itself as a human to his will. His power's were already swirling around him, eager to do his bidding. The man was sweating profusely from the fire he had asked to be lit in the same room to help him bind his spell's to the beast permanently. He was not going to force his lady grandmother to abide the filth's presence any longer than absolutely necessary.

Not wasting any time, he summoned his magick's into his hands as he began to maintain a steady flow of magic from the veritable ocean of power he normally kept tightly leashed within him.

First, he pointed the index fingers of each hand at the two Unsullied guards; sending what was essentially a modified, raw Stunning Spell at the two eunuchs.

Like puppets whose strings had been cut, they dropped to the floor in unceremonious heaps- now unconsciousness.

He walked to the door that separated him from the hidden spy room and the reception room his grandmother and Illyrio were in.

Opening the door, he again wasted no time in sending a third Stunning Spell at the now-frantic Cheesemonger.

Luckily, the man collapsed against a sofa. He would have feared for the manse's structural stability whilst trying to support his massive bulk if it would have crashed down to the floor. As it was, the man's massive weight still managed to shake the very foundations of the house.

"I'm impressed, Jaehaerys. That was some quick work." The Queen praised her most beloved grandson.

He sent her a smile in smug self-satisfaction.

His royal grandmother always appreciated a job well done.

"I couldn't abide forcing you to endure that odious man's presence any longer than necessary, My Queen." He told her grinning.

"Why thank you, My Prince." Rhaella said; grinning right back at him.

They had a special relationship together. Their mutual love of each other as well as magic and dragons insured that. Each of them both greatly loved their family, and neither of them had any problems using any means necessary to aid in their family's restoration. Both of them would rather take on the more unsavory or unpleasant tasks needed unto themselves rather than force others of their family to compromise their morals. Despite his young age, she knew Jaehaerys had both the power as well as the inclination needed to do whatever was necessary to safeguard their family. He had rather strong moral tenets himself, but after losing so much in his last life, and being well aware of the risks his current life presented, he would not shy away from getting his hand's dirty to protect all those he loved.

That was something Queen Rhaella greatly admired about her firstborn grandson.

He approached the downed bulk of the Cheesemonger and handed his grandmother a pair of gloves.

"I thought you may like these. I need you to prise his eye-lids open while I work on him." He explained to her questioning look.

"Much appreciated." She replied as she set herself to do as her grandson asked.

She had not been looking forward to actually having to physically touch the disgusting pig of a man.

Moments later, he was staring into the still-unconscious man's eyes as he used his own version of legilimency to slip into the fat man's mind.

As an interesting side note, his legilimency powers were aided greatly by what he suspected were abilities inherited from his mother's Stark blood. He had gained the ability to warg into both animals and even people from the ancient blood of the First Men (his Wizarding magic then amplified the ability numerous times over) and when one combined that with Wizarding legilimency, he had an extremely formidable form of the mind arts at his disposal.

This would be his first real test of just what he was capable of when he put his mind to it. Failure was not an option, as the scum below him could never be allowed to bring his nefarious plans for their family to fruition.

He simply would not allow it.

Thankfully, he found the man's own Valyrian-based abilities to be just as he had hoped: entirely negligible to the point of virtually being non-existent. What little ability the man had been born with had never been trained, and had been more or less lost in it's entirety.

He would not face any resistance in the Cheesemonger's mind.

He dived into the man's psyche; delving into the depths of his mind to discover all he would rather keep hidden, as well as all of the very many long-term plans the man and his dubious allies hatched together.

What he found shocked and disgusted him utterly.

The man was foul beyond doubt. He would do anything to get what he wanted and to get what he thought he was 'rightfully due'. He made sure to make careful note of every last detail of the man's plan as well as anything he knew of note or consequence to them.

Once he was certain he had learned all he could, he called upon a truly massive amount of his magic to surge through the man.

The moment he did that, the fire in the grate roared as it shot flames upwards through the chimney like the breath of an angered dragon; feeding off his own emotions of anger and rage.

The fire itself almost seemed to be contemptuous of the gluttonous man and his odious plan's.

His magic burrowed itself into every facet of the man's mind; altering him...changing him on a fundamental level.

Everything about the Cheesemonger that made him who he was, all he'd ever striven towards, and all he'd hoped to gain...all of that was now being altered beyond the scope of repair or hope.

Never again would this man be a threat in any way to his family. Never again would he work from the shadows to plot his insidious desires at the expense of House Targaryen. No more would he act as the puppet master; forcing all to unknowingly dance to his tune.

Now...now he was a puppet.

He had reaped what he had sown.

He was now (and in all ways) the staunchest and most loyal supporter House Targaryen would ever have.

He had no other will but that of pleasing the true member's of the Targaryen Royal Family.

By the time he pulled out of the depraved (though admittedly ingenius) mind of Illyrio Mopatis, he was drenched in sweat as his magic had worked thoroughly to bind the man to his will for the rest of his miserable days.

The only thing he could liken the magic he had just cast to was a distorted, raw version of the Imperius Curse with a mass of permanent Compulsion Charms.

He all but flopped down exhausted into the chair waiting nearby.

"It is done."

"Are you alright, Darling?"

Nothing was worth risking her beloved grandson's health over- not to her anyway.

He gave her a slight smile.

"Yes, Grandmother. I'm fine, merely exhausted. That took alot out of me, but it is done. I learned all we needed to know...and alot I almost wish I did not know. His will had been completely subverted and altered. Never again will he be in any way a threat to our family. He will now be our staunchest supporter...ever."

He couldn't quite hold in the slight grin at his accomplishment.

Though exhausting and not something his own morals would allow him to ever do to an actually decent human being, he had just won what was essentially a large victory. That it had been successful was a boon that could prove useful for the future. After all, many of their enemies were rather morally reprehensible in nature. Someone like Tywin Lannister certainly would not bother his ethics in the least.

Also, after learning what he'd just learned, he felt nothing but disgust for bastard laying beneath them.

The Queen was more than impressed with her grandson's magical capabilities. He had such wondrous gifts. She just knew Queen Visenya would have adored her grandbaby. Never before had there been a sorcerer in their bloodline as phenomenally powerful as he. She doubted their ever would be again either.

"Do we have time to...discuss events...while they are out?"

She pointed towards the unconscious trio.

"We've got as much time as we like. They cannot wake till I awaken them."

"Alright, what did you learn? I have a feeling I'm not going to particularly like this."

Her grandson was looking far too pleased with himself for the fat man to have held even a modicum of decency. She well knew that otherwise there was no other way he'd have taken such pleasure from using his powers in manner as forcefully as he had.

He sat back further into his seat as he thought over all he had learned and how best to word it.

"He had many...many...plans that were either already in the works or ready to begin. We already knew of course about the man's son. It would have been a brilliant plan, and may even have held the possibility of succeeding, if my father were actually dead like he believes. He has Jon Connington completely convinced he really is raising Father's heir. He hoped that having him raised by Father's supposed, 'best friend' would lend legitimacy to the Blackfyre boy. Hopefully, when he has seen that Father is still very much amongst the living, his loyalty will force him to accept the truth." He said.

Rhaella nodded her head in concurrence.

"What else was he planning?" She asked him.

"He has many contacts in the Golden Company, just as we expected. Those contacts shall now be used to insure they accept the contract we plan to offer them. It will insure they are now working for us rather than against us. Also, the man controls several of the other Magisters in the City. That will come in very handy for us when we propose our alliance and he sells us the extra land we wish to buy in the gulf between here and Myr to better sustain Kingsport. Our proposal to the Council will carry as his influence amongst the Conclave is vast and far-reaching. Braavos will support it as well. He may even be useful in arranging an alliance with Norvos and Qohor. His own former plans will play well with that."

"That's all very good news. What other plans did he have that may be of aid us?" She asked.

"The vile pig already had plans in place for you, Visy, and even Dany." He all but spat in the fat man's direction.

He had been thoroughly disgusted by that particular bit of knowledge in the man's mind.

"What were those plan's?" Rhaella asked with a small amount of trepidation; alarmed by the loathing that was now present in her grandson's usually happy countenance.

He was normally not one to show such malignant thoughts about anyone. Whatever he had planned must have been truly despicable.

"Firstly, he planned to arrange an 'accident' to befall you quite soon. He believed that would leave Visy and Dany unprotected and with nowhere to go. He also planned to get rid of, 'Daenarion'. Without either you or grandfather's supposed 'bastard' around to help, he felt they'd be ripe for him to sweep in and offer them aid and support. In exchange for that help, he planned to destabilize Viserys- through either hardship or potions or both. He knows Viserys needs a gentle touch, and he planned to turn him in to something resembling Grandfather." Haery spat disgustedly.

Rhaella's eyes had narrowed to near slits at hearing that. She looked like she dearly wished to kill the man and be done with it right then and there.

Nobody messed with her children or grandchildren.

Nobody.

"What he wished to do to Dany though was even worse." He added softly.

"What exactly were his plan's for Daenerys?"

The thought that if they had not intervened...and what that bastard had planned for her children...it sent shivers down her spine.

"His plan's for her were many and dark. You know how the Dothraki have been growing so much bolder of late?" He asked.

"Yes, their raids are getting much worse. They've even begun raiding as far as Pentos itself. In the past, Norvos was as far west as they dared come."

He nodded his head in concurrence.

"Illyrio here, has been subtly encouraging several of the Dothraki Khals; one Khal Drogo in particular. Drogo apparently lead's a large khalassar. It grows stronger by the day. Illyrio has informed Drogo that if he grows his army to sufficient strength, he will ensure a Valyrian bride for the Khal...a Targaryen Princess in fact!"

His blood boiled at the mere thought!

He would never allow some savage to get his hand's on his sweet Dany.

Never!

Rhaella saw her grandson's reaction to that plan and hid a smile. He may not know it yet, but she knew there would never be anyone else for her little girl than Jaehaerys. The bonds held between Jaehaerys, Daenerys, and Rhaenys were special and unbreakable; of that she was certain. He was the only one meant for either of them, just as they were destined for him.

"He planned to convince Visy to actually sell Dany to the Khal, supposedly in return for an army that would never cross the Narrow Sea. He planned for 'accidents' of some kind to befall both Viserys and this Khal Drogo, and to then wed a desperate and completely alone Dany to the Blackfyre boy. Even if some questioned 'Aegon Targaryen's' legitimacy; none could challenge Daenerys' position as a Targaryen Princess. Like I said, his plan's were vile and disgusting, but I cannot deny their brilliance. Especially since it took the Lord Spider himself this long to discover his treachery."

Rhaella would have to admit, beyond the disgust at the man's plan and his action's, they were remarkable and deviously well thought out. The vile excuse of a man was a true Machiavellian.

"Well, I suppose this makes the idea of using the vile man far easier on the conscience. I know your father at least will be able to take some comfort from that." The Queen said.

A noise to the side caused them to both turn their heads sharply in the direction of the sudden disturbance.

Walking out of the door Haery entered from earlier, was his father.

"After everything I've just heard, I can categorically state that I have absolutely no problems whatsoever with using this disgusting excuse of a man thusly. I entered the hidden room from another door as soon as you left, Son. I heard everything. I'm proud of you, Jaehaerys. This man would have been a terrible danger to us and we might have never known till it was far too late." Rhaegar told his son with his paternal pride well evident.

"Thank you, Father. Now, how about we meet our new...'benefactor'?"

His amethyst eye's met two sets of matching violet orbs alight with pleasure at the thought of binding this treasonous scum to their own cause after learning what he had planned for them and their family.

"Yes, let's." His father agreed.

He waved his hand first at the Cheesemonger and watched as the man slowly came back to awareness. His new will and loyalty were now forever and firmly in place.

The fat man looked around blankly for a moment before his eye's alighted on the three Targaryen's in the room.

"Hello, Illyrio." Rhaegar said kindly with a patently false smile on his face.

"Allow me to introduce myself and my family. I am Rhaegar Targaryen, rightful King of the Seven Kingdom's of Westeros. These are my mother, Dowager Queen Rhaella Targaryen, and this is my eldest son and heir, the Crown Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen- Prince of Dragonstone. We are so very pleased to make your acquaintance and happy you have so...generously...offered us your full support and aid in the re-taking of our birthright and throne." Rhaegar told the man.

His father's charming smile was nearly all teeth.

Haery too was smiling in joyful contentment. They had just brought themselves that much closer to regaining their homeland.

The extremely fat man was down on his knees faster than any of them would have thought possible given his more than impressive girth; bowing his head in obsequious submission.

"My King, My Queen, My Prince; I live to serve you in all things." Illyrio swore to them with near-fanatical devotion plainly evident to all three of them.

'Yes, things were now beginning to go their way.' He thought to himself as he smiled down at their formerly treacherous new minion.

He knew events would now be moving forth was increasing rapidity and importance as the race for the Iron Throne truly began. Everything leading to this moment had merely been a warm up. It was time to begin playing for keeps.

Less than a moon's turn from the day he'd bound Illyrio Mopatis to their cause, Haery and Rhaegar were aboard one of their ships heading to a quiet harbor not too far outside of Volon Therys. They had instructed Illyrio to get word to Jon Connington to lay anchor there and await the arrival of some...'important guests'. He and his father had discussed the issue in depth and hoped they'd found an appropriate solution.

They had hope that when Jon Connington laid eye's on Rhaegar and learned that 'Aegon VI' had never actually existed, he'd willingly choose to serve Rhaegar once more.

It was up to Haery to determine the fate of the boy. Going by what he learned in Illyrio's mind, he learned that the boy was quite close to his own age; being less than one name day older. From what he'd seen, the boy was luckily not anything like his degenerate father. That was certainly a blessing as Haery never would have bothered with someone even a bit like the Cheesemonger.

He'd learned that it had only been quite recently that the boy himself had been told of his supposed 'real identity'. It worked in their favor that the boy was having a difficult time believing what he'd been told. He could understand that. The boy had lived all of his life believing that Jon Connington was his true father, only to be told it had all been a lie for his purported 'safety'.

He would scan the boy's mind to determine if he really was a threat to them or not. If he was accepting of his real identity, than Haery had no problems allowing him to come live with them. The boy was kin. As the descendant of both King Maekar through the Brightflame, and Aegon the Unworthy (not to mention the Dragonbane) through Daemon Blackfyre's line. They had agreed to name the boy a Targaryen cousin and Prince of the Blood should he prove to be loyal and worthy of the honor. Considering what he'd seen in the mind of the boy's father, he appeared to be a good-natured and easy-going young lad, he had hope that he'd be amenable to his change in circumstances.

Haery himself certainly would not mind having a boy of his own age around. While his best friends were...and always would...be Rhaenys and Daenerys, there were not any other boys his own age to befriend. His younger brother Aelyx was the closest in age to himself, and he was three full name days younger than Jaehaerys. While that may not sound like much of an age gap, considering he was only nine, given his own intelligence and 'past experiences', it was somewhat difficult to connect to a normal six year old such as his next to oldest sibling. Aelyx himself was closer to little Valarr and Valaerie than to his elder brother or sister, though that in no way meant he did not love all his siblings and they him- he did. He was just not as close to them due to the age disparity. He did have hope that time and age would change that as they all grew older. Viserys was the closest thing to a brother he'd ever had, and he was a great deal older than him.

He could now see the vessel they were approaching; the Shy Maid, it was called.

"Here, Son. Put this on before we reveal ourselves. I need to make certain he is the real Jon Connington and not an imposter or an enemy." Rhaegar told him as he handed him a hooded black cloak of the appropriate size.

"Yes, Papa." He agreed; taking the dark cloak and putting it on over his clothes and making sure his distinctive silver-blonde hair was fully covered.

He'd be so glad when they no longer had to ever worry about disguising their identities.

It had gotten very old, very fast. He also hoped he'd be able to take off the damned cloak quickly as it was bloody hot. There was very little in the way of a breeze, and being this far south meant it was sweltering. He doubted his Northern blood helped. His mother sometimes looked like she was about to go crazy with the heat of an Essosi summer. Of course, to her it was also quite a normal to see snowfall in the middle of summer. He just could not fathom snow in the summer. It just didn't seem possible, but he had been assured it was quite common in Winterfell. He definitely looked forward to seeing such a thing for himself one day.

Slowly, their ship laid anchor at the small pier where the Shy Maid was docked.

The men raised a gangplank from their warship to the docks, and he joined his father to make their way over toward the much smaller vessel moored on the other side of the pier.

Walking out into the sun, he saw a man that looked to be around his father's age with what he assumed was dyed blue hair awaiting them.

To him, the hair color looked absolutely ridiculous as he was fairly certain the man was a natural red-head; which would mean that the man standing before them really was the supposedly deceased Jon Connington.

His first glimpse of Jon Connington was not what he would describe as a pleasant looking man. He looked aggravated and short-tempered by the way he seemed to be grinding his teeth.

He was humorously reminded of his grandmother's description of Cousin Stannis. He doubted Connington would care for the comparison.

He was relatively well-built; indicating that he had at least kept himself in decent enough shape. He was also considerably shorter than his father was. Of course, most people were considerably shorter than his father.

As they approached, he saw the man's eyes getting wider and wider by the moment as his mouth hung open in dumb-founded shock.

He'd obviously recognized his father.

"Rhaegar? No...No, it can't be..." Connington trailed off uncertainly looking as if he'd seen a ghost.

He supposed that in a way, that was exactly what he was seeing.

Considering his father merely nodded his head and beckoned him to follow him onto the other ship for more privacy, he assumed his father was now assured that the stricken man before them was indeed the real Jon Connington.

He followed his father obediently as they walked onto the smaller ship.

Rhaegar led them over to a more secluded area of the deck. Once there, his father nodded to him, and they both removed the hoods of their cloak in unison.

Jon Connington's eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw the two of them standing there side by side in all their Valyrian-blooded glory.

"My Prince! How? How are you...how are you even alive, let alone here?" Connington asked amazed.

"Ah, Jon. I have missed you my friend. Allow me to introduce to you my eldest son and heir, the Crown Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen. Son, this one of my oldest friend's, Lord Jon Connington of Griffin's Roost."

If possible, the man's eyes widened even further when his father introduced him. He did not fail to notice his eye's narrowed slightly in something resembling suspicion. No doubt the man planned on informing them that he was not in fact, Rhaegar's heir.

He almost found the situation amusing. He could already tell that he just did not particularly like this man much at all.

Chairs were brought out and once everyone was seated, his father began to speak again.

"After Cousin Robert defeated me on the Trident, I awoke upon my funeral pyre unharmed and mostly healed. There had been legends in my family that such things were possible for the old Dragonlord's powerful in sorcery, but I had never placed much stock in such things. I'm certainly a believer now. Ned Stark saved me, and then sent me to Dragonstone where my family was residing. I was greatly relieved when I arrived. Ser Jaime had helped Elia secret away Rhaenys. She sent her to my then second wife Lyanna, who was in Dorne at that time. When Rhaenys arrived, Lyanna had the Kingsguard repair them back to Dragonstone. Not long afterwards, she gave birth to Jaehaerys. Now, my mother with my brother and sister, my wife and our five children, all live in our manse in Pentos. That's the quick version of events." Rhaegar told his old squire who was hanging on to his every word in rapt attention.

"My Prince...I...I don't know what to say, except that I am supremely grateful Your Grace survived. God's be good, it is a miracle I never dared to even hope for! I must confess something to you though My Prince, this boy...this boy is not your heir. Your eldest son yet lives. I have been raising Crown Prince Aegon these past four years mostly aboard this boat." Connington said as he cast a glace at his best friend's supposed, 'eldest son'.

Connington appeared to be highly confused to see the boy smirking at him with a knowing look.

He knew Connington probably thought he would be upset that he was soon to be set-back in the line of succession.

"Ah, yes. That farce."

Rhaegar's voice was clipped and cold just then.

He looked out over the water for a moment before returning back to the conversation at hand.

"Frankly, Jon. I'll never understand how you could confuse 'Young Griff' as a son of mine. You have been played by the Magister in Pentos. The boy's a Brightflame on his mother's side, and the last Blackfyre on his father's." Rhaegar told him calmly.

"What? Preposterous! He...he...that's not possible! He is Aegon! He is! I know it! He has been raised as your successor and heir! He..." Connington interrupted fiercely; standing up and looking quite panicked and perturbed all of a sudden.

For a moment, Haery thought he saw a slightly mad glint in Connington's eyes.

Of course, he supposed when told that the sole purpose of one's life and all their dream's are essentially horse-shit, one would have a difficult time accepting matters to the contrary.

"Sit down, Lord Connington!"

Rhaegar's voice was iron, and brooked no opposition.

Haery had to restrain a snicker. Even at he and the girl's worst pranks, they'd never been subject to that tone.

'Ohhh, someone's woke the dragon.'

Connington seemed so stunned he complied instantly.

His father sighed deeply.

"I will tell you again, you...have...been...played."

"Do you not think I'd not know about mine own child? Aegon VI Targaryen never existed. Elia could no longer bear children after the birth of the Princess Rhaenys. Had my father known...well, I believe you can imagine just what he'd have done to her. That was why she had no problem with me taking a second wife. She knew I needed an heir. For the time being, we faked her second pregnancy with the help of my mother and the maester on Dragonstone who was more loyal to me than my father or the Citadel. No one else was aware until I married Lyanna. No one else could have been made aware. It was simply too dangerous. The boy you remember as Aegon was the twin brother of Aurane Waters, the Bastard of the Driftmark. That was whom was murdered within the Red Keep by that mad dog Clegane. Rhaenys was swapped with one of Prince Lewyn's illegitimate grand-daughter's. Jaehaerys most assuredly is my eldest son and heir."

Rhaegar's tone was matter-of-fact and absolute.

Jon Connington looked positively devastated and shocked beyond belief by all he had just been told as he sat there motionless in his chair.

A shock of blue hair darting away in the corner of his vision caused Haery to quietly take his leave to allow his father to discuss things further in private with his old friend whilst he went in search of whom he had a suspicion was the boy he had come here to meet.

He had a feeling he had been listening in, and had consequently heard his father's words to Lord Connington. He could only imagine how the boy must be feeling; being told you whole life was a lie not once, but twice!

He would try and find some way to help the poor boy because he was truly innocent in all of Illyrio's schemes. Also, regardless of anything else, the boy was his family, and that meant something to him after living an entire lifetime devoid of any familial affection or care.

He went below deck and followed the path he suspected the boy had fled towards.

Really, he had no idea what he was supposed to say to the poor lad.

When he came to a hallway, he stopped and listened quietly.

There, at the end of the narrow corridor with the door just slightly ajar, he thought he could hear sniffling.

He slowly crept through the darkened corridor until he stood before the door.

Steeling his resolve, he cracked the door open a little more and took in the scene before him.

Laying down on a small bed was the blue-haired boy with his arm's wrapped tightly around what appeared to be a small stuffed red dragon.

Haery quietly made his way into the small quarters and sat down on little bed next to the boy.

When he felt someone sit down next to him, the blue-haired boy shot up like he'd been scalded; looking around with an all too desolate look in his eyes.

Looking at Jaehaerys, his blue-violet eye's widened in shock.

Haery couldn't help feeling his heart break a little for the other boy as he watched his lower lip tremble. After all, his whole world had just been shattered.

He was visibly reminded of another boy that lived in a broom cupboard once upon a time that had also been lied to all his life. He remembered how that boy had once so longed for even a single true friend that would have made all the difference to the lonely boy in the cupboard.

He gave him a small smile.

"Hello." He told him quietly.

He seemed stunned that he was speaking to him and looked as if he didn't quite know how to reply.

"Hi." He replied shyly.

"Your name's Aegon, right? Like the Conqueror?"

Of course he had known the boy's name, if that was what it really was. He'd been called that all his life so he supposed there was no harm in keeping it as such.

The boy looked at him warily.

"Yes." He whispered, his voice even quieter.

"I'm sorry you had to find out something like that in such a manner. I can't say I know exactly how you feel, but it's alright to be upset or confused."

"You're Rhea...Rhaegar's real son?" The boy asked.

"Yeah, he's my dad. You know...we all have to live in hiding too." He told him; hoping to find some common ground between them.

The boy widened his eye's at that.

"Really?"

"Yeah, we'd likely all be killed by the Usurper otherwise."

"Can I ask you something?" The boy inquired.

"Sure, you can ask me anything you want." He told him easily enough.

"If...if I'm not really Aegon...err, I mean if there never was an 'Aegon Targaryen'...Who am I? Griff...er Jon only told me I was Aegon Targaryen nearly a year ago. Before then...before then, I just thought my name was Young Griff. I think I was happier when I was just Young Griff anyway."

The last part was whispered almost to himself more than him.

"I'm not entirely certain, I mean I don't know both of their exact names, but I do know that your mother was by rights a Targaryen Princess. Her name was Serra and she was the grand-daughter of Prince Aerion Targaryen. Her father was Prince Maegor." He told him.

No need to bring up the Brightflame's madness just then.

His eye's widened at that.

"And...and my father?" He asked.

"Well, I know your father was the grandson of Maelys Blackfyre; the last male Blackfyre. Through him you are descended from Aegon IV and the Dragonbane." He explained further.

"You know what?" He asked the boy with a smile.

"What?"

He appeared to be still trying to wrap his young mind around all he'd been told.

"We are family though. You are my cousin on both sides. You may not be who you had been told you were, but that does not mean your not still a dragon. You are a dragon too; just like me." He told him; smiling even wider as he pointed towards the stuffed dragon he was still holding on to.

The boy eye's had gone huge at that and he could see the makings of a smile beginning to form on his face.

"Really?" He asked.

"Really. If you would like to, you can come and live with us. We're building a new city and we even have our own real live dragons too! We are family, and I don't have hardly any friends my own age, only my sister Rhaenys and my aunt Dany. I have younger brothers and a younger sister, but their not very old."

He had entered the boy's mind when they locked eyes. What he saw made up his mind beyond any doubt. The boy before him was truly an innocent. He was sweet and good-natured and did not hold any malicious thoughts. If he gained that boy's loyalty, he'd be more true and loyal than most men were capable of. He was also so very lonely and had reminded him a great deal of himself as a child when he was Harry Potter. He'd not wish such loneliness on another child ever.

"You have real dragons? Really? That's amazing! I'd love to see a real live dragon!"

He smiled at Aegon's enthusiasm. All Targaryen's were obsessed with dragons, even his regal grandmother would still sometimes play with her dragon with child-like wonder plainly visible in her eye's.

"You would really want me around? Even though somebody was trying to trick your family by using me?" He whispered.

The boy was apparently fairly intelligent too if he was able to put the pieces together so quickly for the only reason someone would have attempted such a ruse.

"Absolutely! Like I said, I don't have any boys around my own age, and we are family regardless of anything else, and I protect my family."

He gave him an easy smile and he meant what he promised him.

"Could Griff come too?" He asked shyly.

"Of course. He's one of my father's best friends. Just remember, you're our family. You'll always be welcome with me." He told him.

What he did next shocked him.

Without warning, the other boy all but dived over to him and wrapped him in a hug.

"Thank you! I promise I'll be a good cousin, and an even better friend! I don't have any other friends either; not even girls. I'll be the best friend you ever had!" He promised him.

His naturally boisterous and happy nature seemed to have returned full force with his acceptance.

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him anymore than he could help the fact that he found the other boy to be a delightful breath of fresh air. He was completely different to anyone else he knew in either life. He also reminded him so very much of just how desperate a young Harry Potter had been to have friends and people that would care about him in his past life.

He also could not explain it, but he felt an inexplicable connection to the sweet young boy when he hugged him.

Death's word's briefly flashed through his mind as he remembered being promised a life-long friend unlike any other he'd ever had that would always be more loyal to him than any he'd ever known.

He had a distinct feeling that he'd just met that life-long friend. He'd just be glad when those he was closest to were a bit older and he'd not be forced to pretend as much as he did about his own maturity level.

He gently hugged the other boy back before they broke apart and grinned at one another.

"I think you'll make a great friend." He told the boy with a bright smile of his own now gracing his face.

Aegon beamed even brighter at him as he held out his hand to shake.

"Do you have a nickname? Jaehaerys is kind of a mouth full" He asked Haery curiously.

He raised an amused silver brow before he replied.

"My sister call's me Jae."

"Okay then. Friend's, Jae?" He asked with his hand still held out.

He gave his new friend a genuinely warm smile as he shook his out-stretched hand.

"Friend's, Egg." He agreed.

If he was going to endure another nickname then so would he.

Aegon scrunched up his nose at his own nickname, but then merely shrugged his shoulders in careless gesture not at all bothered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father looking on from the doorway with a soft smile and one of the proudest looks in his eye's that he'd ever seen directed towards him.

He shot him a subtle wink.

He knew that while it may take the lad a bit of time to become acclimated to them and grow enough that he'd not feel such an age disparity mentally; he also somehow just knew that he'd gained a true friend in this life. While he adored his girl's whole-heartedly, he did sometimes wish for another boy of his own age to be around. He had no doubt that he'd gained just such a companion in Egg.