Winter Rose.

lxxix.

"What are you doing here, Lord Connington? You were dead." Tyrion called out to the man, Rhaenar more confused than ever as she glanced between the two parties.

This red-headed Lord Connington waved him off, a large hand dismissing the claim. "Everyone's dead according to rumours, like you Lord Lannister. You were supposed to be dead in a ditch somewhere surrounded by bottles of wine." She could see that at times. As he came closer, kind pale blue eyes peek out of lines of wrinkles.

"Oh I wouldn't put it past me." He trailed off, looking down to the cup in his hand before placing it down. "That doesn't answer what you are doing here."

"Lord Varys sent us, he claimed it was time for the dragons to come together." To come together? He had a better claim than she did, there was no way they could come together.

Her jaw locked. "Before you can 'come together', how do we know you are who you say you are?" Oberyn asked, his eyes hard. She couldn't imagine how hard this must have been to Oberyn, the possibility of his nephew, his sister's only living child, to stand in front of them.

Aegon rifled through his pockets before passing out a tattered rolled paper, letting Oberyn take it as Rhaenar glanced over. A long opened seal still clung to the top, a spear shooting through the sun on deep orange wax. His thumb ran across it, feeling it for just a moment before pulling it open, neat handwriting settling within.

'I, Elia Martell, pass my son, Aegon of House Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone and claimant of the Seven Kingdoms to the protection of Varys. In return, he shall be kept safe before taking his position as King of the Seven Kingdoms.'

At the bottom laid two signatures, one of Elia's and one of Varys, a witness signed by Tywin Lannister. Their eyes met before Rhaenar shouted over her shoulder at one of the Unsullied. "Bring me Tywin Lannister." She all but hissed as she shot a glare at Aegon before back to Oberyn. "Can you assure me that this is your sister's signature?"

He nodded. "This is hers, without a doubt." Oberyn uttered in defeat, knowing what that meant. "In the first few weeks of Aegon being born, she wrote to me constantly about the babe as she knew I couldn't see him; in detail Elia described him to me, every mark that he had, the colour of his hair; even his eyes." There was a pause as he looked over at Aegon.

"If you are, who you say you are, then you wouldn't hesitate showing me your back." The midnight blue shifted to Jon's, before he shrugged, pulling off the dark cloak. Beneath he had only a thin shirt and a breastplate of armour that he tugged free before letting his skin bare. He was a wall of muscle, the skin rippling as his arms moved, turning away from them.

There on Aegon's back was a litter of scars that ran across the plans, one stretching from the top of the back to the base. But it wasn't the scars that drew their attention, but the birthmark that sat on his hip. Oberyn stepped back, eyes wide as he stared at the man. "Is that proof enough for you?"

"He's Aegon, the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms." Rhaenar couldn't believe what Oberyn said as she turned to look at Tyrion, fear within the indigo as he made his own way down.

"You told me I could trust this Varys." She hissed to Tyrion. "So far, he's sent an army but now he's sent the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms, effectively ending my rule before it has even begun." Tyrion stumbled for a moment, but she didn't let him get the words out as she then sent her fury to this supposed nephew of hers. "And you! Are you in on this too? You wish to be King of the Seven Kingdoms?"