"You were once one of Rhaegar's most trusted friends, his sword and his shield. It was because of you that the Battle of the Bells was lost, and it was Rhaegar who saved your life, allowing you to be exiled to Essos."
Viserys continued to press, breaking through Clinton's already shattered defenses. "Now, the true Targaryen stands before you, with true dragon and unstoppable power, ready to drag those usurpers and traitors to hell one by one, washing away the Targaryen humiliation with their blood."
"And you, Jon Clinton, are going to give up everything here because of a lie, letting the souls of Rhaegar, Elia, Aegon, and countless Targaryen supporters never find peace. Do you want Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister to have the last laugh on the iron throne, celebrating how they destroyed the will of Rhaegar's last close friend with a fake?"
"No..." Clinton let out a low growl from deep in his throat, a sound filled with suppressed pain and resentment.
He clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. He looked at the pile of ash on the ground, then at Viserys, whose eyes were like torches. Images of Rhaegar's face and voice flashed through his mind, along with the loneliness and persistence of his own exile.
Yes, Young Griff was a fake; like himself, he was just a victim in this game of thrones. But Rhaegar's blood feud was real, and the sins of Robert and the Lannisters were real.
His persistence over the years was loyalty to Rhaegar, faith in the legitimacy of the Targaryen dynasty, and hatred for the atrocities committed against the royal family.
Now, the true Targaryen was before him, possessing true dragon and power, aimed at the real enemies. If he fell now, that would be the ultimate betrayal of Rhaegar and the greatest irony of his life in exile.
Clinton's gaze changed. Though the pain remained, it was no longer unfocused but filled with determination. He took a deep breath, as if to inhale all of the past into his lungs and then crush it completely.
"Your Majesty, you are right. Past mistakes and deceptions cannot erase a true blood feud. My sword should not break here; I will raise it once more and swing it for you."
He paused, then added, "Within the Golden Company, I can persuade at least half of the forces, especially the descendants of exiles from Westeros and warriors dissatisfied with the status quo. Captain Myles Toyne values profit, but if most of the company defects, he will have no choice. I can turn the conspiracy of New Ghis around, purge the traitors colluding with them, and integrate the entire legion."
"What help do you need?" Viserys knew that he now held this sharp sword in his hand.
"No, I only need a time and a signal."
Clinton spoke quickly, seemingly regaining his composure as a commander, as if the breakdown just now was a mere illusion. "I will return to the Golden Company in secret and take control. When you decide to go to war against Volantis or any of the Free Cities, the Golden Company will raise your banner and take Myr and the Disputed Lands for you. We have been employed by Myr and fought against Tyrosh for many years, so we know Myr very well. Capturing Myr and the Disputed Lands will pose a huge threat to the surrounding city-states and draw their attention for you."
Viserys promised, "Once you take Myr, the Golden Company will no longer be a mercenary group, but the 'Golden Legion' of the New Valyrian Empire. You will also receive the rewards you deserve and the chance to swing your sword in revenge against your enemies."
Clinton thumped his chest heavily and gave a standard, powerful knightly salute.
He seemed to suddenly remember something and made a gesture to his squire. The squire immediately brought over a wooden box that had been carefully kept. Clinton took it personally and opened it, revealing three massive eggs.
The shells displayed beautiful patterns: one deep green with bronze flecks, one cream-white streaked with gold, and one as black as night, adorned with scarlet spirals. They were beautiful on the outside but very cold, with no hint of life. They were the very three dragon eggs that Illyrio had given to Daenerys in the original story.
"These are the dragon eggs Illyrio gave to Young Griff." Clinton's voice wavered slightly but quickly recovered. "They are said to come from the Shadow Lands east of Asshai. After Illyrio heard that true dragon had been born, he hoped Young Griff could also hatch them and become a king who rides three dragons. We tried every known hatching method, but to no avail. They are like beautiful stones."
"We came this time with a sliver of hope that you, a Targaryen with true dragon, might know how to awaken them. But now, it is clearly unnecessary."
He offered the three dragon eggs. "They belong to the true dragon."
Viserys took the dragon eggs; they felt icy to the touch. He indeed sensed no signs of life from them.
In the original story, Daenerys's dragons were born at the cost of blood and fire, hatching only after the sacrifice of the blood witch, Drogo, and the stillborn child. This was blood magic, an exchange of life and death, a miracle triggered only under extreme conditions.
However, he could let Ghidorah see if there were any other ways; after all, she had hatched Blackflame before.
"They might still be useful." Viserys handed the dragon eggs to the captain of the Unsullied behind him for safekeeping. "I accept them. I will remember this 'gift' of yours."
Clinton nodded slightly and said no more, preparing to leave.
Viserys reminded him, "Remember, regarding what happened to Young Griff today, you need to concoct a plausible explanation for Varys and Illyrio."
A cold smile appeared on Clinton's face, a smile filled with hatred for those two and a hint of mockery for his own past. "I will let them know that 'Prince Aegon' met with an unfortunate 'accident' on his way to Valyria to meet his uncle. As for whether they believe it or not, it no longer matters; they are no threat to us."
He had completely severed his ties with those two conspirators and was even prepared to strike back.
He took one last look at the three dragon eggs and glanced at the jarring remains in the center of the grounds. Then, he led his two squires and left Dragonwing Fortress swiftly and resolutely.
Viserys watched his departing figure with a smile. He had resolved this "hidden mine" planted by Varys and placed an important pawn in the Disputed Lands; he had already seized the initiative.
"Your Majesty." Ser Elissar walked over and reported, "News of 'lightbringer' appearing in Free Bay has been spread throughout Westeros via 'casual talk' from merchants and sailors, as per your instructions. I hear the Lannisters, especially that old lion Tywin, place great importance on this long-lost valyrian steel sword of their family."
Viserys nodded slightly. "Keep an eye out for 'wealthy merchants' or 'collectors' from the Westerlands lately. 'Entertain' them well, and set a price that would make Tywin's heart ache but leave him unable to resist paying. Then, publicize it widely." He wanted more than just Gold Dragons; he wanted to prick Robert's nerves and deepen the suspicion between the Westerlands and the iron throne.
Furthermore," Ser Elissar continued, "we captured a spy disguised as a parchment merchant who sneaked into the eastern border of Free Bay. After 'questioning,' he admitted to being Ser Ralph Royce of Runestone in The Vale, sent by the iron throne to verify if the rumors about true dragon are true."
"House Royce." Viserys thought of that ancient family from The Vale. "Bring him to me; I want to see him personally. Be careful to let him 'coincidentally' see a few things. For example, the military discipline of the Unsullied, the sight of Blackflame occasionally soaring through the sky, and the existence of Ghidorah."
"Is, Your Majesty."
It was time to proactively send some "news" to those nobles in Westeros.
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