The waters around Dragonstone shimmered as the Redwyne fleet returned, the black cliffs looming like sentinels against the fading sky. Paxter stood at the helm of the Gilded Vine, Grey Worm silent at his side. The voyage from Casterly Rock had been tense, Grey Worm observing Paxter with undisguised mistrust. The Unsullied commander appeared capable of ending Paxter's life at any moment.
Paxter had tried civility—ensuring the Unsullied had fresh water and ample provisions after their hardships—but Grey Worm remained distant. Despite witnessing Paxter bend the knee to Daenerys and his frequent presence at the queen's small council, Grey Worm still saw Paxter as a plotting traitor, waiting to be unmasked.
The irony wasn't lost on Paxter. He had set out to liberate the Unsullied, yet felt like a prisoner himself. Paxter understood Grey Worm's mistrust; as a former slave, Grey Worm would naturally distrust a merchant lord reminiscent of his old masters. Paxter knew friendship wasn't necessary, merely cooperation.
Only as Dragonstone appeared in the distance did Grey Worm visibly relax. Overhead, three dragons roared, seemingly welcoming their return. As the Gilded Vine docked in the newly rebuilt harbor, Grey Worm finally offered a brief acknowledgment of thanks, which Paxter, understanding bits of Valyrian, appreciated.
As the Unsullied disembarked, Grey Worm turned to Paxter. "Come," he said, gesturing toward the castle. "We should report together."
Paxter nodded, understanding the intent if not every word. They ascended Dragonstone's steps side by side, entering the throne room where Daenerys sat, flanked by Missandei, Varys, and Tyrion.
Both men knelt. Paxter saw Daenerys and Missandei brighten upon seeing Grey Worm unharmed.
"Rise," Daenerys commanded.
They stood, and Paxter listened quietly as Daenerys and Grey Worm discussed the recent battles. Eventually, Daenerys turned to him.
"Lord Redwyne, you have done well."
Paxter bowed slightly. "I serve at your pleasure, my Queen."
Daenerys nodded approvingly. "Your counsel proved wise."
"The Gold Road was a notable victory," Paxter replied diplomatically.
From the corner of his eye, Paxter noticed an awkward glance exchanged between Tyrion and Varys. Something was amiss, but he decided to inquire privately later. More pressing was another matter:
"And the gold?" Paxter asked cautiously.
"We were too late," Tyrion answered grimly. "According to prisoners, it reached King's Landing just before we attacked."
Paxter's jaw tightened. "Cersei will use it to repay the Iron Bank."
"True," Tyrion continued quickly, "but we seized the grain stores. Our armies will be fed, while Cersei's will starve this winter."
"A victory nonetheless," Paxter agreed, though he silently wondered about Randall Tarly's fate, resolving to discuss it privately.
Stepping forward, Paxter withdrew sealed parchments from his coat. "Your Grace, letters from Houses Rowan, Oakheart, and Merryweather, pledging fealty. Soon, the entire Reach will be under your banner."
Daenerys accepted the letters with quiet satisfaction. Varys interjected gently, "Your Grace, further good news—Prince Quentyn Martell has replied to our raven. He sails here now, commanding a fleet from Dorne."
Daenerys narrowed her eyes cautiously. "What does he want in return?"
"To be formally recognized as Prince of Dorne," Varys answered.
Daenerys turned to Tyrion. "Your thoughts?"
Tyrion considered briefly. "More ships strengthen us greatly. Dorne's naval support could prove decisive."
"I agree," Varys echoed smoothly.
Paxter nodded his agreement as Daenerys deliberated briefly, then said, "Very well. Upon arrival, he shall have his title."
Paxter felt a sense of relief; more ships meant greater strength.
Just then, Missandei whispered something to Daenerys, prompting a nod from the queen. Paxter watched the doors swing open, revealing a tall, scarred man with blonde hair, surrounded by Dothraki guards. Daenerys visibly drew a breath, her composure momentarily shaken.
"Your Grace," the man spoke softly, kneeling before her. Paxter noticed Tyrion and Varys exchange shocked glances.
"Ser Jorah Mormont," Daenerys said softly, "you look healed. Did they find a cure?"
"I am cured," Jorah affirmed, eyes fixed upon her. "I have returned to your service, if you'll have me."
"It would be my honor," Daenerys replied warmly, stepping down to embrace him. Paxter observed the quiet intensity of their reunion, noting its implications.
Their reunion was interrupted by a Dothraki messenger, who handed Daenerys a scroll. She read it carefully, intrigue evident on her face.
"What is it?" Tyrion asked.
"Jon Snow has discovered something in the dragonglass caves," Daenerys explained.
"Is it wise to enter the caves with him?" Missandei asked cautiously.
"I believe we can trust him," Tyrion assured. "His reputation speaks highly of his honor."
Daenerys considered briefly before nodding. "Then let us see what the King in the North has found."
With the council dismissed, Tyrion caught Paxter's attention discreetly. "Lord Redwyne, a moment, please."
Paxter exchanged a curious glance with Tyrion and Varys, sensing there was something of importance to discuss—privately. As Daenerys's footsteps faded down the hall, Paxter wondered what secrets awaited.
He took a deep breath, calming his thoughts. Whatever Tyrion and Varys needed to discuss, Paxter was ready. His loyalty was pledged, his strategy clear. He would secure the Reach for Daenerys and, in doing so, secure his family's legacy for generations to come.