Chapter 45
"I can see that she's examining me. Honestly, I didn't expect to lose myself to such an extent. But once the words are out, there's no taking them back. After she observes me at length, Lieutenant Degurechaff replies deliberately, like a shrine maiden delivering a divine message." -From the Saga of Tanya the Evil Vol. 1
Jace felt good about the height he was gaining. It wouldn't be long now until he could enter a joust – maybe a year or two. At ten and two, he was four years off from adulthood, but he longed for it. He longed to be able to enter the lists and prove himself capable. He was an able rider, and Ser Harwin said he had excellent instincts.
He knew that martial talent was only one facet of his future. He was destined to be a king – a heavy burden, and one he strived to be ready for. Currently, he was in High Tide, dining with his grandfather.
"And that is why the essence of power for any major kingdom is naval," Corlys said firmly. "Yes, dragons are a fine substitute for defeating your foes, but you won't see dragons bringing grain to and fro."
"It echoes what I've heard before, grandfather – that logistics is the heartbeat of any kingdom, and waterways, coasts, and ports are the arteries through which lifeblood must flow."
Jace recalled a particularly striking example from his younger days, when his Aunt Elaena had visited. In fact, he remembered her using that exact phrasing, so strong were those moments in his mind. His younger self had wanted to know all about his father's glorious one-night conquest of Tyrosh. How they'd done it, why they won so overwhelmingly, who fought whom, how many ships had they fought, why the fleets were where they were or were not - he was eager to learn all and forge himself into a man capable of such feats.
Though he was a loving father and a powerful warrior, Laenor Velaryon was not a man to oft speak of his own fearsome deeds, a rare but stubborn humility. Jace had learned not to test his father on this, both out of respect and no little wariness. So a younger Jace had pestered any kin who would listen for more details to sate his hungry mind.
Aunt Elaena had answered him steadily, took his curiosity seriously, and treated him with calm respect. Where other adults shied away from complexity and left details vague as if he were dumb, or eventually learned to ignore him, Elaena would answer with a kind of simple clarity, flowing from one idea to another, that made everything seem obvious.
Even while she played with or entertained Jace's younger siblings, she explained with a gentle patience. In turn, Jace had given her words great weight, and listened with rapt attention.
She had answered all of his first questions with a single one in kind:
'What if they had attacked Tyrosh without a fleet?'
Unraveling the consequences from this one question, one after another cascading into endless problems, had taught Jace the limitations of dragons when one sought to conquer, and keep one's conquests. If one could not even attack and hold an enemy island off the coast despite all the armies of their entire realm, then what wars could they win?
But Elaena had not stopped there.
Once she saw him beginning to understand, she asked him to consider what to do if they only had a small fleet. Or an unreliable fleet. Or a large fleet that could be beset upon by other large fleets at the worst time if other nations got involved. To truly hammer the point, she had outlined a 'scenario' - as she called it - asking him how the Seven Kingdoms would invade Dorne, if they had been truly responsible for the assassination attempt on his father.
Jace's childish anger at the time, still full of half-hearted hate for the Dornish assassins who invaded High Tide, saw him eagerly attempt this 'thought exercise.' His answers then had been foolish, he would readily admit, too steeped in awe and pride for his father, in the glory of reputation and knighthood.
Then she asked him to think of how to do it without a fleet.
He still shuddered to think of the cold, bleak horror painted by his aunt's grave words, her kind voice almost sad and frustrated, but powerful and riveting as he could not help but listen to her spin a tale of doom. Any choice he could make or question he asked, only further revealed disaster in the end. It was as enthralling as it was mortifying, and Jace would never again doubt that armies without logistics were akin to bodies without hearts.
When he'd said something similar back then, Aunt Elaena had given him a small smile and said he'd make a better king than most. He treasured that memory along with the likes of flying his dragon for the first time.
His grandfather's praising response shook him out of his reveries.
"Precisely, my boy! No matter how vast and fearsome a host may be, if it does not have food, it is worthless. Gods be good, let it be so that I will have long since passed before your reign begins, but I would have you remember these lessons regardless."
"I shall, Lord Corlys. Between dragon power and sea power, there is nothing the Seven Kingdoms cannot achieve."
'Tis true, with our might we are a match for any enemy. Even if some of those would be far more troublesome than others.
His grandfather smiled. "Good, good. Well, will you stay for the feast, or will you be off again?"
In truth, Corlys' stories and lessons were fascinating, but Jace had gotten his fill. However, the man was without his son, daughter, grandchildren, or wife at his side, and Jace believed it was good for him to dine with family.
"I would be honored to stay; I can always leave in the morn." Jace paused. "What do you think of having someone other than your wife help oversee the Small Council? When I am wed to Baela, I would not wish to be so long apart as you and Rhaenys have been of late."
Corlys waved aside his concern. "I do miss her, but she's best suited to watch those vipers. One of us should be here ruling over Driftmark. It will not be forever, and we have seen each other half a dozen times this year alone. Though perhaps it would be best to allow Laenor a chance to rule while I stay in King's Landing for a time. But then I would be separating him from his own wife. In any case, some level of hardship is required to hold power. 'Tis the way of things."
Jace didn't quite agree. Castellans existed for a reason, but he wouldn't hector his grandfather over it. Perhaps, when he reached maturity, Jace would ask to take on that role. It was best to look the enemy in the eye and show that you are unafraid, rather than sit and wait.
"As you say, grandfather. It seems as if my Aunt Elaena's match has borne fruit. I miss her more frequent visits to Dragonstone," Jace said, changing the subject.
"She's another you should consider listening to. If you'd hear Lord Beesbury speak of it, she is the one who truly runs the Dragon Bank," he said with a laugh. "Gods watch over her during the birthing. The weakness of the mother did not pass to Rhaenyra, but who can say if it will not find Elaena?" Corlys said in a grave tone.
Jace felt his eyebrows draw down, for he had already well learned to value his Aunt Elaena's words. To hear that her knowledge extended even further than he recalled was heartening and piqued his interest, but his grandfather's later words...
"I wouldn't worry so. Elaena has always had such vitality and energy. I could not imagine her being laid low by the birthing bed."
Corlys shook his head. "In that, my young prince, you are mistaken. My own daughter has the energy of three, and she too had a close call while doing a mother's duty. What goes on inside the womb, not even the Maesters can guess. It is a mystery. Liken it to that of a sea captain, if you will. Even the best can be beset by a sudden storm through no fault of his own."
Jace nodded uneasily; he didn't like to think that his kind aunt would face such danger.
I should visit before her labors near… just in case.
The next morning, he flew back toward Dragonstone. There, he would have lessons in dueling with Ser Harwin, lessons with Maester Gerardys, and perhaps a game or two of Cyvasse with Aenar. The routine was comforting, but he wished he could see his betrothed more often, as well as Daemon and Laena. The conquest of Tyrosh was a magnificent event, but the distance was frustrating. He could visit them in the future, but for now, there was still concern about unrest there.
Luke had been glum of late, ever since he was told that Arrax was still not quite large enough to safely ride. It wouldn't be long now, but his brother was impatient. Jace would try to cheer him up, but until he could fly in the clouds with him, Luke was determined to view everything in the worst light. Well, Jace could understand the impatience, but there was little sense in dwelling on it day after day.
'Tis a good thing I will be King and not him. It would be hard to imagine the dreary cloud that would be cast over the realm with a ruler who only dwells on what he cannot have in the moment.
***
Daeron moved his heavy horse piece deep into enemy territory. Across from him sat Isembard Arryn, Lord of House Arryn of Gulltown and known as the Gilded Falcon. Isembard had firmly carried out the King's will, but he had not been odious in its execution. Daeron had proved obedient and cordial and had been denied little – save for what the King had explicitly forbidden, the things Daeron wished for most, his family, and his dragon.
Isembard moved his dragon to defend against the assault, and Daeron immediately advanced his elephant to support the attack. Isembard studied the board and withdrew his crossbowmen. Daeron pressed forward, but after a quick exchange of pieces, Isembard emerged with numerical superiority – his offensive had failed.
"A daring move, but one doomed to failure," Isembard commented. "My young friend, know that letting an opponent win is only helpful if he does not realize that is what you are doing."
Daeron smiled. "I did not allow you to win, but it is true this was not the best strategy."
"Oh? Is not the purpose of the game to defeat your opponent?"
"Not always. The strategy I used was one I wished to test. Rather than playing to my strengths in our respective positions and winning a grinding technical victory, I opted to put my pieces in a unique circumstance that would give me experience in future games. It made for a more enjoyable game and taught me that this strategy is either ineffective or in need of refinement. Time well spent, my lord."
Isembard laughed. "Very good, Daeron. You have grown much in your time in Gulltown. I believe I could appeal to your father, though I must be certain. Tell me, what will you say of your royal nephews?"
Daeron bowed his head. "I have a plan for that as well. I wish to speak an oath to the Septon, and perhaps repeat it to the High Septon when I am granted leave to return to King's Landing. That I will forevermore refrain from speaking of their birth in any capacity."
The man in fine clothing across from him was nodding sagely. "Thus, you will never be forced to admit they are trueborn children of Laenor and Rhaenyra, for your oath binds you."
Daeron remained silent. Better to be patient than to misspeak at this critical juncture.
"You tread a dangerous line, but given where you place your ultimate loyalties, I understand. In fact, I am even willing to advise the King that this will bind your tongue more securely than any royal decree."
"Thank you, my lord. You have been a gracious host, and have treated me better than I would have thought."
Isembard smiled. "It is always wise to befriend those with power. You, Daeron, are a dragonrider. You are a prince. You have opportunity to make mark upon the world. I am a great believer in an exchange of favors, but a one-for-one agreement over specifics is gauche and demeans us. Keeping a ledger over such matters offends the sensibilities.
Always another lesson.
"I hold no quarrel with this, and a friend you have proven to be, but I am curious what favors you would wish of me."
"A time may come when my own house has a prospect for more. My liege lady will have no heir of the body. An opportunity when age or accident brings the Stranger to her door."
Daeron nodded. "So long as we are clear, I would countenance nothing that could hasten that day."
There was no guarantee Jeyne Arryn wouldn't live another forty years, but Isembard's plans extended years, if not decades or even generations. His young son was heir to much wealth, but little true power outside Gulltown and this portion of the Vale. As Paramount Lord, with the wealth of Gulltown at his disposal, it would elevate the branch house of Arryn to the heights of power, second only to the Targaryens and Velaryons. Isembard was ambitious, but also cautious. Elaena had used the phrase, 'measure twice, cut once,' but with Isembard it was more like measure three times, obtain a second review, consider it further, measure a final time, and then cut.
And given how my rash actions led me to this predicament, I cannot say he is wrong.
"I would expect nothing else, and I also know that you will never betray the path of righteousness, and would never call upon you to do such a thing, nor permit others to work toward an end with base means," Isembard replied smoothly.
I wonder if that is true. You've done well by me. You are wise and ambitious, but I have never seen you do anything untoward. And yet… I know you are a master at wearing many guises. How can I know you speak the truth, when I know your talents for deception?
"It is good that we are of the same mind. Do you think the King will lift his sanction?" Daeron asked.
"It's hard to say, but I believe the time may be ripe. Joyous news arrived of your sister, Elaena, being with child. It may be more advantageous to ask after the birth, but there is the risk that if some tragedy were to befall the child, mother, or both, the King may be even less forthcoming in mercy."
Daeron grew cold at the thought of something happening to Elaena.
"I ask that you seek leave of my punishment sooner rather than later, my lord. I would like to visit her before she enters labors."
Isembard agreed and even said he would seek to enlist aid from those who might have the ear of the King. Daeron longed for his exile to end. He found comfort when he prayed in a Sept, but always after he left, the longing for his dragon and for his family would strike him. He had not done wrong by speaking up, but neither had he done right. Isembard had taught him patience. If a move yielded no fruit, what purpose was there in making a move? Better to wait until the critical juncture, the correct time where a wrong could be righted, to do something.
"If you are successful in convincing my father, I intend to reside with my family in King's Landing. But I would welcome the chance to return regularly and speak with you over a game or two of Cyvasse."
"Of course, my prince." His smile was warm and inviting, but it always was with those in his favor. "My home will always be open to friends."
***
Rhaenyra was taken aback at the flash of rage that flew over Daemon's face.
"What do you mean, 'no?'" Daemon hissed.
"My father hopes to be remembered as Viserys the Peaceful, dearest. But what you are suggesting would bring war upon us."
"A war we would win swiftly. These cities will fall one by one, and fear of drawing our ire will keep the rest at bay until it is too late. The time to strike is now. My wife has secured Baratheon cooperation, and we have our excuse. Lys will fall as Tyrosh did, and Myr will follow in turn," Daemon reasoned, his voice quick and harsh. "The rest of Essos will be mollified when we claim it is only the Triarchy we wish to punish for their past transgressions. We have never gone to war with Volantis or Braavos."
Rhaenyra thought back to the almost painfully damning reasons Elaena had given in her letter condemning further wars in Essos. She recalled them as she spoke to her lover. "We are still integra… integrating the Tyroshi. The Seven Kingdoms having a foothold in Essos itself will turn them all against us. My father has taken great pains to reassure the ambassadors of the various cities that we seek no further expansion. Would you have him break his word of honor?"
Daemon stalked around the table and seized her chin, locking eyes with her.
"Who has put those words on your lips? Was it Rhaenys?" he demanded.
Rhaenyra glared up at him. "You think I do not know what goes on in the realm I will inherit?"
Daemon's harsh laugh flushed color into her cheeks. He released her jaw. "You are often a delight, but matters of state are not what interest you. Someone has been whispering in your ear – someone bound by secrecy."
They must have talked to Rhaenys about this, but she most like tried to dissuade them. Daemon thinks she then told me, but it was truly Elaena. I don't wish to cause further animosity in either direction…
"You know my sworn shield's brother is the Master of Whisperers, yes?" Rhaenyra lied through her teeth, her voice dripping with scorn. Larys was in King's Landing, and Rhaenyra was on Dragonstone, so there had been no talk or reports from Lord Larys Strong about the realm.
Daemon studied her carefully before nodding. "So you refuse me knowing your realm will not grow? You do not want to be Queen of all the world? To indulge in every delicacy from every corner, every form of silk and jewel at your fingertips—is that not what you desire?"
Rhaenyra leaned back, fiddling with her wine cup. It was an enticing thought. But still… it had been Elaena's words, yet her logic rang true. Their father had given his word, and to make the world believe him a warmonger and untrustworthy would be a cruel blow.
"When I rule, we can consider it. Or we can take it to my father and lay it before his judgment. But I will not support going against his word, Daemon."
Daemon stared at her in silence for a long, tense moment, eyes considering before he shifted. "After all I have done for you? I have supported you, stood by your side, protected you from Alicent and Otto, and now you deny me what is mine? Assassins from Essos nearly killed Laena! Do you care so little for us?"
Rhaenyra swallowed from her cup.
"I do care, but there's no certainty it came from Lys or Myr," she said as she tried to regain her stomach for defying Daemon with drink.
"Who else?" Daemon let his voice drop low. "Who else but those who know they have wronged us? Will you seek vengeance only after one of us is slain? Does a corpse make a better bed companion for you?"
Rhaenyra shot to her feet. "You go too far!"
"Too far? I do not go far enough! You deny my adoption of my son. I acquiesced so that your claim would remain stronger and so he could be by your side. You withhold support for necessary action, and you care more about my brother's reputation than the lives of the two you claim to love."
Daemon turned away and stalked away from the hall, and Rhaenyra's heart lurched in her chest.
"Daemon, wait! Please!"
Daemon opened the door to the private sitting room adjoining Rhaenyra's bedroom. She chased after him before he could reach the next door leading to the hall.
"I would not see you leave with a bitter heart. Come, return, and we can speak more," she said in a quieter tone, mindful that beyond this room was a hall that servants frequently traversed.
He looked at her. "You must choose, Rhaenyra. Me and Laena, or those who seek to bring us down. I will not let you sacrifice my children on the altar of my brother's reputation."
Rhaenyra thought desperately. "They can stay with me on Dragonstone, Laena too. You can employ food tasters and guards. If they try again and there is evidence, we can take it to my father. Then I can support you in your ideas of conquest."
Daemon's face shifted slightly, his countenance softening. "Not even Dragonstone may be safe. Essos is home to the Faceless Men." He advanced a step and caressed her face. "Do you know that Laena weeps with fear sometimes? My brave and beautiful wife fears not for her own sake, but for Baela, Rhaena, and Visenya."
She closed her eyes as Daemon pressed his forehead to hers.
"You love your father, but he is weak. Above all else, we must look after each other. Can you not see that?"
Rhaenyra wavered, she didn't, perhaps couldn't, deny him outright. She had to try to convince him, so she wracked her mind seeking a possible alternative.
"Yes… yes… of course, but there are considerations beyond. What if your actions spark even more fear in Essos, and they become more serious in their attempts on you and Laena? Would it not make sense to avoid upsetting so many cities that are making overtures of friendship? Would not the risk become even greater?"
Daemon's face twisted at her words.
"Ever an excuse to not do anything. Truly you are your father's daughter," he said with spiteful contempt.
Worry and fear turned into a flash of rage. Rhaenyra responded with a slap to Daemon's face, only he caught her hand, used his other to seal her mouth and push her against the wall away from the door.
"And now you even raise your hand to me? Me?"
Rhaenyra tried to speak, but words failed her, and Daemon simply held her there, studying her as a cat might study a mouse.
"I am leaving now. Do not speak as I go. I cannot tell you what I will or will not do about the threats against my family, against our family. But unless you fly to Tyrosh and apologize to me and to Laena for your betrayal, we will have nothing to do with you."
Daemon let his grip linger for several more seconds before releasing her and stalking out of the room.
Rhaenyra shut the bedroom door and fell onto her bed, tears coming freely now – tears she had held back while arguing with her uncle. She truly knew not what to do. She needed Daemon and Laena in her life, yet… upsetting her father, Elaena, and doing something she knew was most like the wrong choice for Westeros felt impossible.
Gods, what am I going to do?
***
Selene Falwell frowned as she examined the cloth. "The yield improved, yet not to the level expected."
The weaver looked nervous. "Perhaps the loom still needs more refinement, my lady. The shuttle's speed is good, but the tension on the threads could be causing unevenness."
Selene sighed, tapping a finger on the edge of the table. "The foot-powered loom should be making more of a difference according to the inventor, but it seems there's more to be done. We'll mark this as a partial success."
"As you say, my lady."
Selene dismissed the weaver and then went back to reviewing the letter from the Reach. The Alan Bridge was nearing completion; that would make Elaena happy. The two years had seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. She had no idea her days could be filled with so much effort, with her mind pulled in so many directions. It shocked her that, as much as she and the other handmaidens did, it was a pittance compared to Elaena's own workload.
In truth, Selene loved what she was doing. Elaena had opened an entirely new world for her, and she was fascinated by it. Important decisions about her future needed to be made soon, as she now had several potential offers of marriage. Her own father had advised her that whichever match kept her in the good graces of Princess Elaena was the one she should pick. The princess, someone who valued self-determination, had simply said that whichever match pleased Selene would be the one she desired as well.
The problem was that few men were like Kevan Lefford. Few would tolerate their wives having such autonomy and power. Additionally, Selene did not wish to leave Golden Tooth and its new wonders. The bones of a new city were being laid down, one that would one day compete with the other great cities of Westeros. Elaena had shared her vision and had admitted there would be difficulties that only the vastly improved roads and economic efficiency could overcome.
Every major city in Westeros was also a port, but the Lefford lands were landlocked. Elaena had said that urban planning would be important, and if done correctly, they would be enjoying some incredible amenities thanks to the water systems that Elaena had dubbed 'plumbing.'
Hmm a heated bathing area you can walk into sounds divine.
But first, the work must be done. Returning to the matter of suitors, she considered once more her problems. Ser Medrick was everything she once thought she wanted in a match, but it would require her to move to White Harbor.
And be parted from all this heady progress? Be parted from the wonders Elaena builds here?
He was fair to look upon, chivalrous, a great warrior, and took an interest in her. And yet, she struggled. She had four other potential matches, and three paled in every aspect, save for location, compared to the future Lord Manderly of White Harbor. She liked Medrick, but she did not like the idea of the cold North. The last option was one not as fair to look upon, but could grant her more of what she desired. Lord Larys Strong had spoken plainly that he had no desire to keep her from her work; in fact, the few in-person discussions they'd had in the last couple of years showed he was insatiably curious about the work going on in Lefford lands. Obviously, she knew part of his curiosity was due to his role as secret collector and revealer, but the spark of life in his eyes when they spoke of such matters was difficult to feign. Even if such interest was conflicting to consider in retrospect.
Larys had said that he had no lands given to him, though the King may well reward him for loyal service, but that he would be tied to King's Landing for the foreseeable future. His needs were minimal: a few weeks a year by her side to produce a child or two, though the travel could prove annoying or disruptive for them both. Most like Elaena would simply take her along on her frequent trips to King's Landing, but she sometimes took Kevan and three would be too many. He would also be able to provide a sizeable bride-price for her father, though her father already approved of her efforts enough that she had little need to please him further.
This appealed to her desire to stay a part of what Elaena was doing in the short-term, but there were other considerations. She didn't like the look of him, both in general and in his oft-strange demeanor; she knew many ladies would openly scorn and pity her for being tied to a man with such an affliction. Others would be wary of ever speaking to her about anything of note, due to her husband's role on the small council.
Perhaps most disturbingly, the idea was present and she knew from Elaena's own elaborations in the past that marrying one with malformities would risk any children of hers or her descendants inheriting the same or worse. Such a thing was disquieting to the extreme, and no small problem.
Still deep in thought, she was joined by Cerenna Sarsfield.
"You look troubled," the pious woman remarked.
"I am contemplating the future, but it is not something you can assist me with. How is she doing today?"
"Her mood is as always," Cerenna said simply, "and she's still stubborn about reducing her daily tasks. I tried to speak with her about it while I did her hair, but she shut it down quickly."
"We figured as much, but it was wise to make the effort," Selene replied. "How are the new arrivals settling in?"
"Well enough, they can see how prosperous the Tyroshi we took in are doing, and the comparison has made them pliable." Cerenna's expression changed to one of satisfaction. "I've won over several more converts to the Faith of the Seven among that group."
"So long as it is clear that wasn't a requirement, you know how Elaena feels about those who come falsely to the Seven," she warned.
"I do not forget the instructions, no requirement was made of them, they chose to come freely after I spoke about how much the Maiden and the Crone has helped me in my life's path," Cerenna replied.
"Good, you came here with purpose, what was it?"
Cerenna nodded, "The Dark Storm has arrived and there will be a feast within the next two hours."
"Ser Laenor? Did Princess Rhaenyra come with him?"
She shook her head, "No, it was just him. One of the guards said that he seemed remarkably hurried. I thought Lord Lefford's immediate announcement of a feast was premature, but he insisted."
"Why wouldn't we want to honor Ser Laenor?"
"The Dark Storm… hurried? Elaena has not spoken to her good-father before he made the announcement. It will be embarrassing if he doesn't have time to feast. I can think of few reasons for a man such as him to be hurried."
Selene pursed her lips; she had a point.
Chapter 46
"If you're too dimwitted to remember orders, how about I split open your skull and pound them in for you!?" -From the Saga of Tanya the Evil Vol. 1
Daemon kissed his wife and then sat down to break their fast. Laena had been an unexpected delight, originally a mere consolation prize when he could not take what was his due. There had been no hunt, no slow toying and endearing himself to her. He had not drawn her in, as he had his first prize. Many thought he was impatient and hasty, and that was oft true, but he had been patient with Rhaenyra.
A gift here, a raised eyebrow there, the lingering touch of his hand upon her had all served to bring the girl closer to him. He had only to wait until she was ripe… and Viserys had put an end to it. He would never kill his brother. His weak, soft-hearted, and frail sibling was the King, was the closest blood relation he had. But Daemon always knew the man and his vices would succumb to themselves while Daemon still drew breath. His plan was to take the Iron Throne through marriage and rule as only a strong Targaryen could.
When his path became blocked, he had settled for Laena and the power she held through Vhagar. There had been no prolonged hunt; the carefree girl had leapt into his arms and joined him without hesitation. She had delighted in how he had killed her previous suitor, a man she held in contempt. In truth, she had chosen him as much as he had chosen her.
To his surprise, Laena cared not if Daemon fucked others, and even wished to be drawn in to his eventual affairs with Rhaenyra. As the years passed, and Rhaenyra became less fit from her many births, Laena instead remained supple with her original youthful figure that had made her a worthy replacement.
Perhaps my brother did me a service. I will still rule in every way that matters, but without a crown. And yet, I will wear the crown as the ruler of Essos – Master of the Triarchy, Hand, and true power behind Queen Rhaenyra, the first of her name. Ruling just Westeros seems such a small thing, now.
Such a dream required but a few more things – the deaths of the Greens, for one. But most importantly, Rhaenyra had to do as she was told. In this, Laena had once again shown her loyalty. When no word had come from Rhaenyra, he had pushed Laena to put additional pressure on her. His wife had attempted to demur, but after some cajoling, she had become enamored with adding additional creative touches. A 'tear-stained letter' asking Rhaenyra what wrong Laena had done to her, and then the desperate plea to take in their children when she and Daemon were slain by their enemies… Daemon had thought it too dramatic, but it had worked. The raven sent to Rhaenyra had been the final push his insolent niece needed to come crawling back to them in Tyrosh.
Laena's eyes held an amused glint. "You seem pleased this morn."
"It was a pleasing evening, and today dawns with possibility. We will soon add Lys and then Myr to my domain," Daemon said proudly.
"The Master of Essos, and I am wed to him." Laena was smiling broadly, but then her face turned thoughtful. "Mayhaps, we pressed a bit too far last night; Rhaenyra had been pulled betwixt divided loyalties."
Daemon scoffed. "You enjoyed her apology well enough."
Laena's face colored prettily, but she laughed. "She was so earnest and biddable—how could I not? And when… no, we have too much to do today, and the more I talk of it, the more distracted I will become. We have Baratheon gathering supplies and men. House Drumm and Wynch will have sailed past the Arbor by now. 'Tis almost time, my love."
He did have much to do. Gathering, planning, and leading men in these petty tasks was exhausting. He enjoyed war planning in terms of tactics, but it was an utter bore to worry about such things as supplies and how many men could fit on a ship. Normally, others would do it, but a level of secrecy was needed. When they conquered, it needed to be resolved in one fell swoop before his brother could interfere.
They were done with their meal by the time Rhaenyra joined them. But no sooner had she arrived than a hue and cry was raised from outside. Alarmed, Daemon took up his blade, and his guards opened the door. A messenger shouted, "D-D-dragon! Dragons!"
"How many?" Daemon demanded even as he was rushing toward the door.
"F-five, my lord."
"Wake Rhaena, and get her mounted on Thraezarys."
"She's too young," Laena protested.
"Do as I say, no, wait. Get on Vhagar." Daemon snapped at her and then turned to the guard. "Wake my daughter and tell her get to her dragon immediately."
Rhaenyra looked shocked. "What is happening?"
"What do you think? Five dragons, that means Vermithor, Dreamfyre, Sunfyre, Silverwing, and Tessarion."
"But Daeron has been forbidden his dragon, and why would they come here now?" Rhaenyra asked, tension and worry in her voice clear as she followed him.
"And? Do you think Otto fucking Hightower cares about my brother's wishes? The Greens see their chance to strike down my family with their numbers while they think we are separated from Meleys, Seasmoke, Syrax, and Vermax. But with you and Syrax here, that makes it four against five, and we can still triumph with those odds."
Caraxes and Vhagar both let out a roar as they flew down to the courtyard that Daemon had deliberately cleared before their seat of power. Some of the nearby homes had to be laid to waste, but it had been worth it.
"Fetch a horse and take Rhaenyra to Syrax, go!"
One of the knights held up a Myrish eye. "My lord, we spot five dragons; one can only be Vermithor, the Bronze Fury. The other two, by size, must be Dreamfyre and Silverwing. The final two are gold and silver, the first assuredly Sunfyre, but the silver…"
Silver?
Rhaenyra, who had just mounted the horse, yelled, "Daemon! Stop, that can only be Laenor or Elaena, and neither would come here to make war."
"You think Elaena would not?" Daemon snarled. "She has long hated me and has ever worked to further Otto's schemes."
"My love," Laena said, "I cannot believe Elaena would fly to war with child. I would not trust her with our son if I feared she would do us harm like this. Perhaps something else is afoot."
Daemon scowled up at the sky and then grabbed the far-eye from the knight. He looked through it and saw that Vermithor had two riders.
"Others take him! Rhaenys must have told Viserys. I told you your mother couldn't be trusted!"
"If she had, she would be with Viserys," Laena countered. "My mother has never shied away from confrontation."
Daemon conceded that was true. Rhaenys was an ally but also a thorn in his side. She was a true Valyrian and as bold as brass. The blood of his people had clearly shown through in her spirit, if not her hair.
Then who has betrayed me?
The dragons slowly circled down in a lazy spiral, making clear their intention was not violence. Daemon stood stiff-backed, his form as rigid as stone, as the expansive courtyard became crowded with dragons. Viserys looked angry, his hair quite the mess thanks to the whipping wind.
An angry old man, come to lecture me and protect his fragile peace. Be thankful for my love, brother; if it were anyone else trying to stop me from taking what is mine, I would have already removed their head.
***
Viserys was wroth. A wroth of mind and heart alike smoldering embers beneath his skin, fueling a simmering tension that would not abate, ever readying him to act. Neither the long flight over nor its harsh winds had done aught to diminish the burning ire towards his brother. He knew that Rhaenyra was most like to be here after his discussion with Elaena, but still he had hoped it was not the case.
Today I have drunk from a bitter cup.
"Well, brother, will you compound foolishness and treachery with rudeness as well? Invite me into your home."
Daemon recoiled and then summoned servants. Bread and salt were given and Rhaenyra went to her father's side.
"Father, why have you come here?"
"To prevent war and to remind you who is King," he replied with a sharp tone.
"Father, there is more to this situation than you know. Daemon is only trying to keep his family safe."
Daemon thundered, "Be quiet. I will speak to my brother."
"Mind your tongue, brother. That is, at least for now, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms you raise your voice to."
Rhaenyra's face crumpled. "What are you saying?"
Viserys wanted to embrace her; he despised the vulnerable look on her fair features. Instead he stayed silent and moved deeper into his brother's home. The idea of her siding with his brother and inciting an all-out war with Essos twisted his insides. His rule was now synonymous with peace, prosperity, and advancement. Across the breadth of the land, yields during harvest were up, travel had been made easier, and banditry was becoming a rarity. Just the other day he heard a knight complaining about how it was too difficult to make a name for himself when there were no foes to slay!
An excellent problem to have.
The dining hall of his brother's manse was cleared. Aemond wished to stay, but Aegon pulled him away. Helaena tried to do the same with Elaena, but a bland look and a polite refusal sent the younger sister scurrying after her husband.
"Welcome to my home, brother. It appears the snakes from Hightower have been whispering in your ear again. Come, tell me what amusing lies they have foisted upon you."
"Will you deny it? You are planning for war in Essos. You have conspired with lords, great and small, to launch an invasion. I flew in and saw your harbor full of ships."
Daemon glanced at Rhaenyra and Laena before turning back to Viserys. "Deny that I am prepared to defend myself against Essosi aggression? No, never that. I have laid down an ultimatum – strike at me again, attempt to assassinate me in my own home, and I will conquer them. This is all a grand threat, but should they not see reason, I will teach them." Daemon smirked. "Is that not how our conquest of Tyrosh came about? They sought to slay your good-son. As your brother, am I not also entitled to your vengeance?"
Viserys scowled. "I've heard of the assassination attempt; it gladdens me that it was so easily thwarted. Unless you have proof you have not shown us, how can you be so certain it was Lys or Myr? You rule Tyrosh and have not made many friends. Everywhere you go, Daemon, you make enemies. It would not surprise me if a bitter lord of the Vale paid a small sum for a knife in your back. The man who tried to kill you was an opportunity, no great threat. He could not have been paid much."
Daemon's eyes widened, before his expression changed.
"You think there was only one? You think my own guard and my own people have not disrupted multiple plots? Your Master of Whisperers may do well enough in Westeros, but Essos is outside of his ken."
Viserys was about to respond, but Laena bowed her head. "Your Grace," her distraught voice carried in the near-empty room, "'tis my fault. I have lived in fear over my children for so long that I pushed my husband to send a message. How can I live within the shadow of death? They send a man with a knife once, but perhaps next time it is a servant who delivers poison in a cup rather than on a blade. After what happened to my brother… that fear haunts my very dreams."
Viserys saw Rhaenyra put a comforting hand on Laena's back, to which Elaena's gaze narrowed. What was his daughter thinking? She was the one who brought the issue to his attention, and like so often, she was right. Daemon had been preparing for war and had conspired with other lords.
"Lady Laena, given what happened to your brother, I can well understand your fear. This course of action he has begun places you at more risk, not less," Viserys gently said, his earlier fire temporarily set aside to soothe Laena. He had to consider what it must be like for her, in a strange land, dealing with his brother, and how, of course, she would be terrified after her own brother was nearly slain by an Essosi assassination plot. "If Daemon attempts to conquer more of Essos, there will be far more attempts than if he does not."
Daemon laughed, short and sharp. "Brother, people know fear. Show them our strength and they will not dare to. Remember the last King of the North? Torrhen Stark? A warrior king who kept the savage North under his iron rule. A great wolf of a man – savage, strong, and fierce. But after the Field of Fire, he knelt like a pup to his master. I aim to teach these curs the same lesson Aegon the Conqueror taught Westeros."
Viserys gave him a baleful look. His brother had always had the gift of using words to mold circumstances to his liking. But he had not come to mince words with him. Had he prepared these arguments and brought them to the small council, petitioning him properly, it would have been one thing. But no, he had gone behind his back.
"Even if what you say is true, it does not excuse your attempts to thwart my desired aims and to keep me in the dark. This scurrying about like vermin in the undergrowth is beneath you, brother. There will be no more talk of war in Essos. Should you attempt to strike Lys, Myr, or any other city-state, you will answer to me. I will strip you of Tyrosh and the Stepstones."
Daemon stood up. "Those are mine, brother. I have subdued and built this place for two years. Has not your treasury grown fat from the tax my city pays? Do you think I will let you…"
Daemon managed to master himself and sat back down. "When will you act? When I am dead? Laena? Rhaena? Baela? Visenya?"
"It is my hope that none need die," Elaena spoke serenely. "To that end, perhaps a dedicated set of knights should be employed to protect you and your family. The King has the Kingsguard, but why should the Paramount Lord of the Stepstones, and other Paramount Lords, not have their own dedicated protective order? It need not be for life, nor involve oaths against holding lands like the Kingsguard, but a professional order sworn to your family's security seems most fitting."
Viserys saw that his daughter's comments caught the others off guard.
"What nonsense are you speaking of, I have guards." Daemon replied.
"Guards, yes, but you seem to find them wholly inadequate, necessitating a costly and dangerous war due to your limited faith in their utility. Daeron Velaryon petitioned the King to expand the Kingsguard after the attack on Laenor, but was declined due to the veneration of the number seven. Perhaps, Lady Laena, you might call upon your cousin to help craft this parallel order for the defense of your house."
Laena gave Elaena a grateful nod. "Thank you for the suggestion, Elaena."
"We aren't done speaking on matters of import regarding the other cities; I wish to root out the source of the danger, not merely guard against it," Daemon said hotly.
Elaena nodded, "That decision is the King's, your brother, and the man you swore fealty to, uncle. Since he has made that decision, I aim to address the concerns your lady wife has raised. Perhaps I should take Laena and Rhaenyra while we leave you two alone to come to an understanding?"
Viserys was puzzled. Elaena had requested to be present when he confronted his brother, yet now she wished to depart? Daemon, though, appeared even more vexed.
Will I ever understand my family?
Laena and Daemon looked at each other, and then at a nod, Laena got up. Viserys however did not wish Rhaenyra to leave.
"Rhaenyra, stay. I have been remiss in preparing you for the throne. Why were you assisting Daemon in this, instead of coming to me?"
Rhaenyra looked down, but when she looked up, there was a fire in her eyes. "Because he's right. Fire and blood. It was my husband whom Essosi assassins nearly struck down. My uncle and good-sister are in peril, and I would gladly act and spill an ocean of Essosi blood to keep them safe. They are dear to me, and the world should know that if you strike at one of Targaryen blood, you strike at us all."
Viserys sighed. "War is a terrible thing, Rhaenyra. I've met with trusted advisors on the issue, and their consensus and my own view are aligned. War with Essos enhances the risk you describe."
"Ah yes, Otto and his daughter – as ever, I am right in who has been murmuring in your ear."
Viserys growled. "Otto was agreement, but he was far from the only one, nor was he the one to bring your madness to my attention."
"Who then?" Daemon demanded.
Viserys chuckled. "Who else? My perceptive daughter continues her work with Lord Beesbury within the Dragon Bank. Do you think Baratheon taking out loans and sellswords gathering would go unnoticed? Do you think vessels altering their trade routes to join your armada did not raise questions? As a loyal daughter, she informed me of what was likely afoot."
Daemon glared at Rhaenyra, then turned back to Viserys. "Elaena regards Alicent as her mother and came to know venom for me at an early age. She seeks to undermine me out of spite, not out of any loyalty to you."
Viserys looked at his brother with incredulity, his jaw opening in surprise. "You are mistaken, brother. Despite your oafish behavior toward your niece, her advice regarding you has only aided you."
Daemon snorted in disbelief.
"Believe what you will." He turned to Rhaenyra again, "As for you, what would you do if you were Queen and lords conspired to act against your stated wishes?"
"I…" she looked lost, and glanced briefly at Daemon before returning her gaze to her father, "I would, ah, examine the unique circumstances of the situation and tailor a plan that best resolved the issue and strengthened the Seven Kingdoms."
Viserys blinked.
It seems more than one daughter of my beloved has inherited the silver tongue.
"An apt avoidance, Rhaenyra. That is not the answer I seek. How would you handle rebellious lords?"
Rhaenyra frowned and nervously rubbed at her wrists. They looked chafed; had his daughter picked up a nervous habit? That would need be broken if she were to become Queen. One could not have a visible tic of that nature, for it would be perceived as weakness.
"Some form of penalty would need to be applied." Her voice began softly, then she gained more confidence as she continued. "Perhaps a fine to be levied, or an increase in taxation for a set period. Alternatively one could mandate a royal overseer to be added to that lord's court and report to the King directly."
Not bad ideas, but she shies away from any stiff penalty.
"Daemon, I know what you would do. You would simply lop off their heads and call it justice. Tell me, brother, do you prefer your own mode of governance or do you prefer Rhaenyra's?"
Daemon's eyes were wrathful, but even he knew he had crossed a line that should not have been breached.
"Your daughter is wise, and I yield to that wisdom," Daemon answered.
Viserys nodded. "Then here is my judgement. The houses that participated in this will face financial penalty for the next five years. The Houses of the Iron Islands, as well as the Targaryen branch of the Stepstones and Tyrosh, House Baratheon, and the Targaryen branch on Dragonstone. Moreover, an agent of the small council and several knights will be dispatched to Tyrosh to ensure no further treasons take place. Additionally, Rhaenyra, I find your lack of loyalty disheartening. You have clearly surrounded yourself with poor counsellors."
Viserys saw Rhaenyra swallow thickly as she waited for him to continue.
"As such, you are to stay for an extended visit in the Vale of Arryn. Jeyne Arryn can help prepare you for your ascension; she has faced unique struggles due to being a reigning Lady Paramount, and it is time you become truly prepared. Your sworn shield will remain on Dragonstone to guard your children, where they will remain, save for Corwyn who due to age will remain with you. Your husband may visit you, but no others."
This was a matter he had spoken of with Elaena. Rhaenyra was being swayed by Daemon, and while it was unfortunate, Daemon had always possessed a more striking and martial presence than he did. It was natural for Rhaenyra to seek guidance from elder kin… though Daemon offered none of the wisdom she sought. To separate them, whilst also preparing her, would serve two purposes at once.
"No, you can't do this. You can't take me away from everyone! Jace, Luke, Aenar, Aelyx, Daemon, Laena, Harwin, my family, I didn't do anything! No ships from Dragonstone set sail, no, father, you cannot do this."
Rhaenyra was visibly distraught, but Viserys sat unmoving.
"I can, and I will Rhaenyra. Or, you can forfeit your right to the throne. Cease being my heir and send Jace to me and I will prepare him to be the next King of Westeros."
Daemon interjected forcibly, "Brother, see reason. This would throw the succession into turmoil. For over a decade your lords had expectations of who would rule after you."
I don't want to strip Rhaenyra of her rights, but if she would be willing to give up her throne for temporary exile to the Vale, to avoid a stay with her mother's kin and valuable insights for her own future rule, then she is not fit for it.
Rhaenyra blinked rapidly and struggled to compose herself. "For how long?"
"A year, perhaps two. I will consult with Lady Arryn as to how well you heed her lessons."
Daemon slammed his fist on the table. "Oh yes, what a Queen Rhaenyra will be when she has to simper for one of her future vassals."
"'Tis no different than having a royal heir foster somewhere. She is past the age of it, but Lady Jeyne has been one of Rhaenyra's staunchest supporters ever since I announced her as heir over you, Daemon."
"That's because she despises me!"
"I already know she has wisdom, no need to further prove it," Viserys bit back.
"Fine, father! You wish to penalize me for doing what I thought was best for those I love, I will accept that. You are the King, and we must obey." Rhaenyra looked drained of life, but her jaw was set and her determined expression was clear.
Excellent, you did pass the test my daughter.
"I will grant you a week to make your arrangements and set your house in order. I do this out of love, Rhaenyra. For when you ascend to the throne, I shall no longer be here to guide and protect you. You must gather wisdom before that day comes."
***
The King's arrival in Tyrosh had been a complete surprise to Laena.
'Tis still better than open battle, like we first thought when the dragons were sighted.
Laena idly wondered how that fight would have gone in truth. She put her trust in Vhagar and Caraxes, but her daughter and Rhaenyra… she did not feel it would have gone well for them. It inspired a new sort of unease that she was loath to dwell on. She glanced at Elaena cautiously as they entered one of the sitting rooms.
The long-haired princess was only barely beginning to show, but the sight of her brought a warmth to Laena's heart. Her good-sister had grown splendidly into a lady of immense beauty and grace, her condition bringing about her a glow of health and tenderness. A tenderness that Laena's heart cried out fiercely to protect upon first impression. Daemon had long harbored an undeserved hatred for the girl, now young lady and expecting mother, and it would take careful steps to ensure he did not do something unfortunate.
A pity that he hates her. It would be quite interesting to see if she were anything like her sister. Ah, I suspect not. Much too pious. And diligent, besides. While I am grateful for her hours of prayer and comfort by my side when I suffered births both harsh and eased, it does not bode well for her interest in 'comfort' of a more pleasurable nature. Her support for me and my children is enough, gods know her diligence and study spared me from the folly of Maesters!
"I'm dreadfully sorry to have played a part in bringing you all this way, Elaena. You aren't too far along yet, but soon I'd recommend you avoid strenuous travel."
"It was not strenuous, flight for Viktoriya and I rarely is, but I thank you for your concern nonetheless. Laena, my sister is married to your brother, I am raising your child, and we both wish to see the Houses of Targaryen and Velaryon prosper. I would prefer not to be at odds."
Laena smiled at her. "Oh, Elaena, we aren't at odds. I'm sure my beloved husband will be wroth indeed, but I will calm him down, you shall see."
Elaena stared at her, and Laena grew discomfited. Those eyes seemed even more glacial blue than usual.
"Then do not attempt to manipulate my father."
Laena tried to put on a giggle, but those eyes stole any mirth that she might feign. Suddenly uncomfortable in the room she was in, she twisted her neck around to ease the tension she felt.
"A mother has fears," she managed to get out, "'tis all. My… my…"
Why can't I stop looking at her eyes? Why do they feel like they are boring into my skull? I need to further plant the lie from earlier.
"My husband listens to me. Yes, he listens to me, and that is what caused him to go around his brother's back. A mother's fears, he took too seriously. I was just explaining to–"
"Don't." The coldness made an odd counterpoint to the stifling heat that was making her sweat. Tyrosh was warmer than Driftmark, but she thought she had gotten used to it.
A sigh escaped her. "What matters the reason? I do not wish my good-brother, the King, to be at odds with my husband!"
"Perhaps, then, you should discourage your husband's adventurism. My father sees clearly the damage that war with Essos would cause. Do not allow Daemon to do this again," Elaena said with a sense of complete finality in her tone.
Laena could scarcely breathe; she didn't know what was coming over her, but when she nodded, Elaena smiled.
"I'm glad we had this discussion, Laena. I believe both your mother and brother share my opinion on the matter of further unnecessary conflict." Elaena looked hesitant for a moment. "My, it does grow warm in these side rooms. Perhaps a cool drink will be a balm for the heat."
Laena gave a nervous laugh and agreed.
What in the Seven Hells was that? It reminded me of when I first attempted to bond with Vhagar. The dragon fear nearly unmade me; it felt almost the same. She's a pregnant princess with no power save that of her father's, yet why did I become a stumbling mess when she tried to push her views on me?
They eventually discussed plans for creating a set of guardians, specifically trained to provide 'holistic protection' against all types of threats – poison, knives in the dark, arrows in the back, conventional assaults on the manse, and more. Elaena's imagination was quite vivid, and the businesslike approach to the conversation helped lessen Laena's growing unease. For indeed, much of Laena's concerns about assassination plots were genuine, and she had mostly just channeled her feelings on the matter into supporting Daemon's cause. But the alternatives that Elaena offered, well, she found her original worries assuaged to a surprising degree.
She's a delicate flower with unexpected steel in her spine. Add to that the fear of my daughter fighting on dragonback and the worry that Daemon won't control his temper with the King, and it left me unsettled. Yes, that must be it.
Within the hour, the King and his children were gone. Laena recalled Aemond catching her eye and smirking. It seemed he would remember her jests at Storm's End and hold a grudge. She wasn't worried – though the boy's dragon was fearsome, Vhagar was the larger of the two. And a boy so easily tweaked would be similarly easy to lead into traps or mistakes. Just as he had at Storm's End.
When Laena learned of Rhaenyra's exile to the Eyrie, she embraced her tightly.
"It isn't fair, but you must endure it. If for only a little while. A year will pass in a blink." Laena soothed.
Daemon, however, raged. "That copper-counting whore has ruined everything! You," he pointed a finger at Rhaenyra, "have always insisted that she hasn't allied herself with Alicent's cause. And yet today, she flies with the Greens to see me punished and you exiled."
Rhaenyra meekly shook her head. "Elaena isn't siding with Alicent, Daemon. She just finds ledgers and coin counting fascinating. Recall how she initiated the audit of taxes and levies. Remember how her actions made the Lannisters and Hightowers squirm."
Daemon grimaced. "Aye, that was in the past. Now Lannister fawns over House Lefford, showering them with gifts. She has been bought by them. Why are you too blind to see what's right before your eyes?"
Rhaenyra stayed silent for a moment. When she began to speak again, Laena put an arm around her shoulders.
"Let us not quarrel in the little time remaining to us. Daemon is upset that we are going to lose you for a year or more. It will be hard on us all, but we will get through it and be stronger for it. I will help look after your children, as I know my brother will defend them with all his might. You have nothing to fear for their safety."
Daemon seamed as if he would argue, but Laena gave him a look and a small shake of her head. He had begun to trust her read of people in social situations, and with a huff, he simmered down.
I swear to the Seven, it is like herding cats. I do worry about Rhaenyra. Her fire has ebbed considerably; the timing of this visit was poor. We... were not kind the prior night, and now this morning has sheered away much of the foundation of her confidence. I will speak to Daemon later; we must rebuild her sense of self before she departs – at least a little.
Laena knew she had difficult tasks ahead of her. She would need to find Daemon some sort of distraction so he did not dwell on his anger toward his brother or Elaena. They had discussed opening fighting pits like those in Slaver's Bay. They could use criminals – those facing death or gelding for their crimes – who would fight, and should they win a set of duels to the death, they could escape their punishment.
Yes, something like that could keep him preoccupied.