The Splendid Times of Braavos

[Erik]

"I apologize, my prince," Mortimer tells Aellion, averting his eyes so as to better suppress his laughter, "I shall keep her firmly in the middle of my memory, neither forgetting her nor remembering her too closely. I would never consider laying a mouth on a royal body."

[The Smith]

Aellion returns to watching the boat slowly burn, "I suppose you must place your mouth on a Royal body if commanded." He scratched his nose, "I suppose you want my permission to seek vengeance on the man. Granted."

[Erik]

"Thank you, my prince." Mortimer says, bowing, though he had no intention of asking permission. "I will hurry as much as I can, while still savoring it. Should Westeros know that the deed was done by a servant of the Dragon?"

[The Smith]

Aellion clapped giddily, "Oh yes burn him. And take his tongue." He waved a hand airily, "You can decide in which order to do that."

[Erik]

Mortimer smiles. "Aye, my prince. There may need to be more than one death, as well. Just the thing to strike fear into the hearts of the usurpers."

[The Smith]

"Yeah," His eyes are still on the boat, "I wish I had miniature horses that would burn at the proper rate. Do you think the Inn keeper would let me burn a donkey in the stables?"

[Erik]

"Perhaps not in the stables. They have a tendency to be flammable. But I don't see why he would mind, should he be compensated fairly."

[The Smith]

"Good good." Aellion crooned, "That is all Mortimer."

[Erik]

Mortimer bows low, saying, "Thank you, my prince," and leaves quickly, making for the harbor.

[Aerys]

Ser Godry Farring follows Mortimer Greyjoy out of the inn and asks for a private word, before he leaves.

[Fel]

////

Sol Hunter enters the inn, it was not difficult to find, the Targaryen prince's court was still hot gossip around Braavos. He approaches a guard and begs a moment of Prince Aellion's time.

[The Smith]

The guard yawned, "Aellion sees every one as long as you go before him with no weapons, armor, and understand your life is completely in his hands."

[Fel]

Sol smiled at the guard. "Then I'd best hand over these," he said, as he started pulling small knives out from various places on his person. Then he unslung the bow from his back, and handed it over with his quiver and the sword at his side.

He then approached Aellion and bowed low. "It is an honour to finally be in the presence of a true prince of Westeros, Prince Aellion, too long have my eyes seen usurpers parading around your lands, bearing false titles they have no right to. The Seven Kingdoms were forged together by the great dragons, not lowly stags."

[The Smith]

Aellion nodded, "Of course." He was sitting at a large table stabbing the wooden length over and over with a barbed dagger.

[Fel]

"My prince, I represent a number of lords from the Vale, who had heard tell of a possible Targaryen return. They dream of the Targaryen reign, two decades ago, that brought them peace and prospeprity, before children and usurpers brought them death and ruin. These lords yearn in the hearts to rise up for you, but they are not blessed with the fortitude of dragons, nor the wisdom of royalty, and they fear that tales of your return to Westeros are nothing more than that. A man cannot rise up and fight on the hope of a tale."