Game of Thrones: Ghost of the Uchiha

Location: Essos, [Free City Pentos]

< Illyrio Mopatis >

The sweet tang of Myrish wine lingered on my tongue as I reclined in my shaded courtyard, savouring the soft caress of the sea breeze.

My estate, perched to the side of a hill overlooking my private port. Below, the ships sailed on the waves, carrying goods to distant markets.

Yet, today, my eyes fixed on a single vessel cutting through the water toward my docks.

Its beige gray sails, unmistakably familiar, I had personally checked this ship before since it carried precious cargo and regularly ferried between Essos and King's Landing. But its early return was an unwelcome surprise.

They were not due to return for a lot longer...

My mood became bleak, as a sour taste replaced the sweetness of the wine.

I swirled the goblet in my hand, its red contents catching the sun, staring into the wine as the light reflected my face in its ripples.

I was getting more and more upset, unable to suppress my rising emotions, I slammed my goblet onto the marble tiles, scaring the servants around me.

Ignoring them I headed towards the harbour, my steps keeping up with the etiquette I learned, as I continued I was joined by guards whose presence was enough for me to feel confident. I watched as the crew deboarded the boat, but they didn't keep the same enthusiasm they had when they left for King's Landing.

Some fell to their knees and kissed the ground, their hands trembling as though they had just survived a storm at sea. With that thought in mind, my face got colder.

"What's this?" I asked, my voice was approachable. "You returned early" I look on the ship and see nothing, literally nothing... "Empty-handed" my approachable tone turned gloomy. Then finally slowly turning cold "and in disgrace. Explain."

As if in response to my angry mood, my guards lower their spears and place them in a position of combat ready. Scaring the already frightened men even more.

Realizing this, I stop their action and ask my guards to be on standby.

The ship's captain, a man named Julian, an ex-pirate captain and a stout man with a reputation for steady nerves, stepped forward. He hesitated, his face pale beneath the dirt and sweat.

'Interesting.' I was genuinely curious about someone who was always so steady, suddenly looking frightened.

"Speak, Captain Julian," I commanded. "Do not waste my time." I once again had a calm tone before the storm.

"King's Landing," he croaked, the words dragging out like a man confessing a grave sin. "It's fallen, Lord Illyrio. The rebellion is over. The usurper... Robert Baratheon… with the Lannister army has taken the throne."

Shocked.

That's all I could feel, at first I thought this was an excuse, but it's too big for one, which means this excuse is likely true.

Just as I was contemplating what to do next with this news, the captain of the ship didn't leave, I wanted to shoo them away and leave me be to my thoughts, but before I could speak I saw the captain's face struggling from exhaustion and fear.

He signalled a woman to come behind him stood a woman clutching a swaddled baby to her chest.

The child, nestled against her perky bosom, appeared oblivious to the commotion.

My eyes lingered briefly on her before meeting the captain's gaze.

"Well?" I demanded.

The captain hesitated, then stammered, "Lord Illyrio… I was told to bring him to you." He pointed to the babe, but his hands trembling as he grabbed a crumpled letter with a broken seal imprint of a spider.

'Varys.' Thinking of a certain bald friend, I smile.

Taking the letter, I ignored the cracked seal and began reading.

"My Dear Friend Illyrio,

It is rare that I call upon you for a matter of such importance, but the winds of Westeros are shifting, and with them, opportunities arise, I write this after knowing that the city of King's Landing is about to be breached by the Lannister army and soon the end of the Targaryen dynasty will change hands.

I am unsure if Queen Rhaella has escaped at this given moment, but if she does not then fret not, as the child I will send you can deal with all of our problems. Should she survive and bring life to the child in her womb, we can use them as the true pieces on our board. I shall send you word on Rhaella more in the future.

The child I have sent you is no ordinary babe. He is of Valyrian blood, born from Daeryn Black, a bastard of King Aery's II.

This child may be a weapon we can use in the future to insert into Westeros as a sharp sword. His existence could be used to further our shared goal of restoring balance and order to the Iron Throne or as bait to those in Westeros as we train other potential kings or queens. Though this child may not be of the pure Targaryen line, he is a relic of their glory, a symbol that could rally those who yearn for the old dynasty. Or perhaps something more.

I trust you will keep him safe, away from prying eyes and the gossip of fools. Let him grow, let him be observed, and when the time is right, we will decide how best to play this piece.

Burn this letter after reading.

Your loyal friend,

Varys"

I folded the letter and placed it inside the pockets of my robes, my face no expression, as if what I read was irrelevant.

My mind, however, started thinking of the benefits this child would bring me. This child... this boy with Valyrian blood, was not the Targaryen heir I had dreamed of fostering, but he could serve a purpose.

I looked at the captain, my expression cold. He had seen too much.

"Guards," I said, signalling the woman and child to stand behind me. I kept my voice calm, though my decision was already made. "Escort them back to my estate."

Captain Julian looked at me in confusion, then in horror. "M-my lord...please! I...I only followed orders! Mercy!" He fell to his knees, grovelling before me.

I regarded him with the indifference of a man who had seen many people beg for their lives. "You followed your orders, yes, but you also allowed your curiosity to best you." My tone softened into something almost kind. "Curiosity is a dangerous flaw, Captain Julian."

"Wait! Wait! PLEASE!" His voice started to roar in misery, his eyes starting to look wild. "I've sailed these seas for years! I've seen things like monsters and sorcery things no man should ever see! And that boy... he's one of them! His eyes…"

The captain's voice dropped to a whisper, trembling. "I wanted to kill him and take him back for a reward originally, but when he looked at me with those red eyes… I couldn't move. Something stopped me. I felt trapped for an eternity, but when I came too we had already arrived here..." With each passing word, his expression became more and more crazy.

Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore and charged at me, forcing my guards to stab him, but even then he stared at the babe being clutched into the scared woman's chest.

He opened his mouth wanting to say something but could only spit out blood and choke on his blood.

This scene made me feel creepy. I have heard tales and I have been to the house of undying in Qarth, but I have never witnessed or heard about what he was talking about. 

The guards exchanged uneasy glances, but I merely observed the corpse, my mind racing. I had read tales of warlocks and sorcery. Now, this? It better confirmed my suspicions.

"Throw the body into the sea," I ordered. "Let the waves carry him." Turning to my captain of the guard, I added, "And the rest of the crew... leave none alive. But do make it quick."

'Looks like I have to hire a new crew for future trade' Thinking to myself.

The guard captain only hesitated for a moment before nodding.

My orders would be carried out. I did not tolerate loose ends.

As the cries of the dying began to echo faintly from the docks, I returned to my estate with the woman and child in tow.

Once inside, I summoned one of my maids. "Take the boy to the west wing," I instructed. "He will live there, away from the rest of the household. See that he is fed and cared for."

The maid looked around hesitantly but still mustered up to ask me. "Shall I raise him, my master?"

"No," I said curtly. "Find a wet nurse. Anyone who can provide milk. The boy's survival is still necessary...for now." I dismissed her with a wave.

The woman who had carried the boy into my home lingered nearby. A brothel wench, judging by her posture, she had likely been hired to entertain the ship's crew. Her usefulness now was at an end.

Before that, she still had one last purpose and that was serving me. Letting my eyes travel over her figure. "You will attend me tonight," I said, my voice soft and inviting. She nodded quickly but did not understand the full weight of my words. 

Later, she would serve her final purpose before joining the crew in their graves. These loose ends... after all were better killed completely.

Since she would be so cooperative later tonight though, I'll let her go in peace with a new poison I got from Braavos.

...Later that Night...

"Ahhh."

The scream pierced the stillness of the night, dragging me from a restless slumber. Groggy and disoriented, I blinked away the remnants of sleep, the faint scent of orchids still hanging in the air as a reminder of the evening's... activities.

Alone in the dim light of my chamber, I quickly draped a cloak over my shoulders, my sandals slapping softly against the cold floor as I moved toward the west wing to see what had caused all this noise to wake me up.

Guards soon fell in behind me, their presence was comforting in such a tense silence.

They were well-paid, well-fed, and given a comfortable life in exchange for their loyalty and vigilance. And for my protection, they would kill without question.

Some wise words I heard before was that a man goes from rags to riches, but never from riches back to rags.

That's the state my guards are in, without me they would be doing odd jobs and fighting for bread on the streets.

The further we closed the distance to the west wing, the more the air seemed to thicken, I know this was a psychological reaction, but it also felt real.

When I reached the door to the room where the noise had come from, I opened it slowly, almost cautiously.

Inside, by the dim flicker of a lone candle, a maid stood trembling in the corner, her skirt stained with food. She was muttering incoherently, "Don't hurt me... please... don't hurt me..." over and over. Her gaze was fixed somewhere beyond me, terrified.

I turned my attention to where she was looking, and that's when I felt it... a cold shiver that ran up my spine, the hairs on the back of my neck rising as if I had walked into the den of some ancient predator.

Through the slats of the wooden crib, I saw them. Eyes. Blood red, beating like twin hearts, spinning in wild, hypnotic circles.

Three black dots, each moving faster than the last, their rhythm erratic and unsettling. But it wasn't just the motion that froze me in place. It was the stare, the weight of it.

These were not the innocent, trusting eyes of a babe. No. This was something else, something I had never seen before. The gaze felt... powerful.

As though it spanned across time and space, seeing more than I could ever comprehend.

I had spent years in the business of understanding people, reading their faces, delving into the subtle workings of their hearts.

I prided myself on knowing people better than they knew themselves.

Yet those eyes, those eyes were beyond any reading.

There was no innocent light bloom a babe of a month old should be.

As crazy as it sounds this was my exact thoughts.

A deep unease twisted in my gut.

The stories of greenseers those cursed mystics of old flashed in my mind.

Their eyes were said to go white but this babe's was red. Still, the comparison froze me.

This wasn't a child, not a mere mortal babe, but something far more dangerous. Something else.

I should have been prepared for this, shouldn't I? After all, Varys had sent the child here, and his words painted a picture of the power of future dominance over the realm.

A future where we could once again hold sway over the Iron Throne.

But as I stood there, staring into those unblinking red eyes, I realized that the child would never be an ally.

No, this one couldn't be controlled. Not by me, not by anyone.

The thought made me sweat despite the chill of the night air. What I was looking at was not a pawn, not a piece to be moved and manipulated. This was something I had never seen before.

Something powerful. Something dangerous.

Varys might have plans for this child, but as much as I trusted his judgment, this wasn't a risk I was willing to take.

I had played this game long enough to know when I could use someone, but this child? He wasn't something I could use. He was a threat. My heart turned cold as I started to have murderous thoughts, but soon they were extinguished.

I moved away from the crib, my mind racing. The guards stood silent at attention, their eyes darting between me and the maid, who was still sobbing softly in the corner.

I had to act fast. The risks of keeping the boy were too great, but to kill him now would ruin everything. Killing this child would break more than just alliances. It would break the trust that Varys and I had been carefully cultivated over the years.

But I couldn't ignore the truth in my gut. This child, with those eyes, was not to be underestimated. He would need to be dealt with carefully.

"Take care of her," Pointing to the shivering maid, I told one of my servants, my voice seemingly unconfident, maybe it was fright. "Make sure she doesn't speak to anyone about what she saw tonight."

I turned to the others, the weight of the decision already pressing down on me. "Prepare my things. We're leaving. I'll move to another estate near the center. It's safer there."

I looked once more at the crib, the soft darkness now swallowing up the boy as his eyes fluttered closed.

A strange relief washed over me for now, I was free from his gaze. I knew this wasn't over.

No, it was just the beginning. If he proved to be a threat, I would deal with him, but carefully.

If Varys wanted to turn this child into a weapon, I would wait. And if he ever showed signs of alienation from me or my offerings, I would not hesitate. I had no qualms about killing him.

It would be better to face Varys as an enemy than risk my life over something as unpredictable as this.

As I walked away, the sounds of the city night grew faint behind me. Tonight, I was the one in control. And tomorrow, the child will be watched. Every move, every glance, under my watchful eye.

After some time to think, I realized I may have just been overly stressed and with the fear of the unknown I subconsciously thought he was something formidable, but then I remembered he was just a month-old babe, I believe I can groom him into a proper weapon.

It wasn't until I finally closed my eyes that I realized I was sticky with sweat, When I felt I wanted to kill that child, I felt something unexpected might happen and it would lead to the worst result... My death.