A Young Woman's Inevitable Dance with Dragons

[Failninjaninja]

jesus fucking christ who just dumps 300k all at once how am i supposed to read this in a weekend

Click to shrink...

lol - I legit thought most folks would have already read it from my prior posting on AO3 and SB. Just recently registered here.

 

[KharnTheBrotrayer]

This was the worst thing to happen to me in the last two days of binging it, do you know how little sleep I have gotten because I couldn't stop reading?

Awesome story cannot wait for more.

 

[Failninjaninja]

This was the worst thing to happen to me in the last two days of binging it, do you know how little sleep I have gotten because I couldn't stop reading?

Awesome story cannot wait for more.

Click to shrink...

Thank you! I'm so glad you are enjoying the story. I'm still actively working on it and aiming for about about a chapter every two weeks but it doesn't always happen. I'll also be cross-posting my other stories over in a bit as well, though I think this one is my most popular and well-received.

 

[unlawfulwaffle362]

The Dark Storm on this degenerate forum?! It must be a plot by that insidious Apiary Warlock...

Quickly, we must shelter our most gentle and innocent Targaryen Princess from their ruthless and cruel intentions!

(Great seeing you on other platforms. Love your stories. Please keep up the good work!)

 

[Failninjaninja]

The Dark Storm on this degenerate forum?! It must be a plot by that insidious Apiary Warlock...

Quickly, we must shelter our most gentle and innocent Targaryen Princess from their ruthless and cruel intentions!

(Great seeing you on other platforms. Love your stories. Please keep up the good work!)

Click to shrink...

Thank you! I'm kind of hoping some people will step up and post some spicy Omakes, but if not I have some thoughts about a Laena scene, but we'll see!

 

[bruhdude]

Thank you! I'm kind of hoping some people will step up and post some spicy Omakes, but if not I have some thoughts about a Laena scene, but we'll see!

Click to shrink...

I actually thought you got pretty close to nsfw when Kevan was glazing (metaphorically of course, we are on QQ) Eleana in the bath

 

[Failninjaninja]

Big thanks to @MARch_Of_Time for all their assistance with this chapter!!

Chapter 56

Few contests display as little restraint as war does; our opponent is just as committed as we are. It's important to keep a close eye on the enemy's moves. -From the Saga of Tanya the Evil Vol. 14



Daenora grinned as she felt her betrothed tighten his grip around her waist. Kermit Tully was a brave man to mount Silverwing, that courage fitting for someone who was to wed into the House of the Dragon. The impropriety of it was hardly an issue to her, for they were to be wed soon after all, and it was certain that Kermit had no carnal delights in his mind, as she could feel him quake behind her.

Over the roaring wind and Silverwing's triumphant shriek as she soared into the sky, Daenora asked, "Are you well, my lord?"

"A-Aye!" Kermit said bravely despite the quaver in his voice.

Daenora admitted to herself that she mayhaps had taken too great a delight in her betrothed's fear, but her brother had always told her there should be an undercurrent of fear when wed to a dragonrider. She was quite pleased when a raven had come from Essos, bearing word that her favorite brother would be returning to see her wed.

I hope he does not imitate Daemon and seek to duel my betrothed!

It was an idle thought, but one she would oppose him over if he made the attempt. Kermit was a good match. One day he would be the Paramount Lord of the Riverlands. His form was pleasing to the eye, and he was a bold knight. While he had yet to win a major tourney, the latest one in King's Landing had seen him unseat a member of the Kingsguard in an early round. Her grandfather had also stressed the importance of the match, for while Lord Grover Tully had fiercely supported a son over a daughter to sit the Iron Throne, others in his family leaned more toward Rhaenyra.

That likely included his heir, Elmo Tully, Kermit's father. However, by agreeing to the match, it seemed as if their loyalty might be swayed. Daenora was rather bored of all the court intrigue. She could only find passing amusement in such things, and her grandfather had always pushed for everything to flow through him as Hand and not to muddy the waters in any way without his explicit instruction. Daenora considered the old man a bit of a bore and preferred to wash her hands of it altogether.

She had Silverwing swoop low and heard a panicked cry from Kermit. Over the wind, she shouted again, "Fear not! Silverwing would never crash, she may be large but she is as agile as Sunfyre!"

Daenora loved her dragon above all else save her family. Silverwing was a part of her, and she delighted in going out flying with her. The dragon often looked to the east, and Daenora well understood the reason. Her brother and his dragon, Vermithor, lie that way.

Aemond returning was good for more than just her spirits. There were more Targaryens than there were dragons. Neither of her younger brothers had dragons, for Uthor's egg stubbornly remained unhatched. And of course, she hoped to prove fertile and raise strong sons and dragon-riding daughters herself! If Silverwing could lay another clutch, it would solve so many problems.

News that one of the few remaining wild dragons had been bonded to young Fraedrik had filled her heart with joy. Her sister Elaena's growing brood well deserved dragons. Daenora could not help but view Aemond as her favorite brother, and Elaena as her favorite sister. Helaena was sweet and kind, yet it was Elaena who had taught her to fly, and she would forever be grateful to her for that. She missed her, and feared that living in the Riverlands would make visits between them all the more rare.

I can time my visits to King's Landing to coincide with hers. Once a month for a day or two is better than none at all.

Silverwing flew higher, and she felt Kermit's grip tighten against her leathers. Smiling, she gave a joyful whoop and sent her dragon into a dive back down to the multi-hued earth below. The leaves on trees were now a delightful array of colors, and from the sky it looked particularly enchanting.

Upon landing, a very shaky Kermit dismounted and promptly recalled his breakfast onto the ground.

"My apologies, 'tis not a common occurrence for me,"

She let out a slight laugh. "Worry not, my lord; I should have warned you to break your fast after riding. I do appreciate you holding it in until we had landed."

"I hope it has not changed things betwixt us and our betrothal."

"Nay, my lord, we are still to be wed. Whether I will it or no, that would be the case; yet I do will it. Only what remains is to determine the timing. Jacaerys and Baela are to be wed soon, and there will be no dual royal wedding this time!"

Kermit gave an uncertain chuckle. That had been an event for the ages, but it had turned sour due to conflict.

"I'd imagine not."

Daenora grinned; it had been an interesting day all the same, even though her pious brother had received the worst of it.

"My father wishes to attend both, so we must not schedule them at the same time. Fret not, my lord, it shall be soon."

Kermit stood up straighter. "I await it with gladness, Princess Daenora. It will be a great honor, and I thank you again for the experience today."

She stepped closer, laying her hand lightly on his arm while her eyes sparkled mischievously.

"You took to the ride well, for your maiden flight. Though you shall surely find my experience as a rider teaching you much, after our wedding."

He looked confused and then his ears turned red in quite the adorable way. She gave a mischievous laugh at how flummoxed he looked. Daenora looked forward to teasing her betrothed quite oft until they were made one by the septon.

***

​

It was quite rare for Alicent's husband to be in an ill mood after Elaena had visited. She knew the source of his disappointment and knew not how to mend it. In truth, she missed her daughter of the heart quite strongly as well. But the girl was now a woman with babes of her own and had fashioned a home with her agile mind that was wrought of wonders.


Viserys being upset was his right, but the fact that he had not once expressed anything close to this manner of disappointment when it was their own children made her bitter. Daeron had been fostered for years when he was young. Uthor was now in Dorne and Viserys seemed to care not one whit.

Everything to Rhaenyra and Elaena and nothing to our own children save that which my father has had to arrange on their behalf.

At least Aegon was able to sit on the small council now, providing much-needed assistance so that her father alone did not need to carry the heavy load of their cause there. A servant advised her that the Hand had asked for her in his study, and Alicent made the trek over.

"How is the King's mood today?" her father asked.

"Still sour. Normally her visits put him in good cheer, but not so this time. I fear I will not be able to move him one way or another on any particular issue until he is less morose."

Her father nodded. "It is good that Elaena is distracted by womanly pursuits. A keen mind, but a soft heart. Had she been as resolute and stern as Princess Rhaenys, and exploited her father, our cause would almost certainly be dust."

Alicent sighed. The long argument was ever beneath the surface. She knew her daughter would never countenance going against the King's declared wishes for the succession, but that sprang from filial loyalty. If Viserys decreed it was to be Aegon, or even a non-Targaryen, the loyal Elaena would name it his mandate as King. Yet perhaps it was that very nature of hers that granted her such influence over him. Had she sought to bend Viserys toward undoing his own stated goals, she would never have stood so near his counsels in the first place.

Father still thinks she is Laenor and Daemon's puppet, carrying out tasks at their whims. It is not so, but he will never be convinced.

"As you say, what need do you have of me?"

"Two things. Attempt to dissuade him from choosing Alan Beesbury. Elaena supported that selection, try to get him to see not choosing her suggested choice as a fitting rebuke for her refusal to take on the post. Such a delicate conversation is best conducted through a whisper in a bed than in a council chamber."

Alicent kept the frown that wanted to form off her face.

"The second is that we should have the wedding celebrations for Daenora and Kermit in Riverrun as opposed to King's Landing."

"Why?"

"Few Blacks will attend one there, but if it is within King's Landing many would come for a tourney. Tell your husband that Daenora wishes to be seen by the people she will help rule one day, or whatever else you think will sway him. I will approach the angle of the cost and expenditure for another tourney after we have just had one. With our allies overwhelming any of the River Lords who support Rhaenyra at the wedding, it will help convince them to fall in line."

Alicent would do as he asked, but she also had her own request.

"I will be busy with those preparations then and will not attend Jacaerys and Baela's nuptials. I do not care to be near such a den of iniquity, nor do I wish my children to be there."

Otto put down his quill and looked at her.

"You are the Queen and Aegon is the true heir. Both of you should attend."

"I will not. There will be needless tension and animosity. I will not put him near that beast of a man, nor will I want to listen to Daemon's nattering veiled threats. That is Rhaenyra's place of power and I will not allow her to humiliate me and my children."

Otto was irked, but instead of exploding at her he waved it off.

"No matter, you have failed to keep your children from making fools of themselves in the past, this is probably for the best. Prince Aegon will attend. I trust him to comport himself properly. He's proven he can hold his tongue and he's a clever mind besides. The rest of my grandchildren can remain in King's Landing or join you in Riverrun for the preparations."

"Helaena will most like wish to stay in King's Landing with her own children. Daeron will return for the wedding, but seems well pleased by the Arbor. Who knows what Aemond will do, or if he will even return."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Your daughter said he was returning for her wedding."

Alicent tried to recall if Daenora had mentioned it to her or not, sometimes she was forgetful about these things as the girl would speak endlessly at times.

"Well, I will try to control him as best I can then, but I fear he has lost all sense. Refusing knighthood, affronting the allies we need, blaspheming against the Seven, and then running off to Essos? Truly, he wars with Daemon as to who should most fit the title of Rogue Prince."

Her father's rare chuckle surprised Alicent.

"That comparison was called to my attention most recently. Let us hope Daemon can be dealt with before the succession is upon us."

Alicent frowned. "Will you not tell me what you have planned? I can count dragons, same as the realm? What hope is there?"

"You are ill-suited for these games of intrigue, but I will remind you that more than one army of greater size has been routed by surprise. Where once enough lords might have supported us to render the risk of war foregone, now I plan for all the greater harshness the odds entail. When we strike, it will be swiftly and a dragon without its rider is susceptible, as they are beasts with animal cunning, but not true intelligence."

I am not so sure.

The dragons had always frightened her to some degree. They were smarter than any dog or horse and the bond between Targaryen and dragon was unnatural.

"You mean… to slay the dragons when the succession is upon us? Or before?"

Alicent didn't know how to feel about this news.

"Rest assured, my daughter, my plans will work. They require some fortune to favor us, but less than what you might think. I fear I have said too much already, you must ensure your tongue is fully guarded. Speak of this to no one, not even your sons or any of our close allies. A lack of surprise will undo us."

She bowed her head in agreement. It would be her children who would carry this war on their backs, and she feared it. Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron were stout warriors all. But gentle Helaena and wild Daenora? Did her father plan to use her darling daughters in such a way as well?

Seven protect our house.

***

​

In the weeks that followed Baela's arrival, Rhaenyra found herself filled with joy. It was a delight to converse and gossip with her niece. In so many ways, she viewed Baela as a little sister and was enjoying planning the wedding with her in a way she had never truly been able to do with Elaena.


No, I mustn't think of her now. 'Tis a time for joy.

Everything had to be set to perfection for the marriage between her son and Baela. She was to be the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms one day, after all. The decision to have them wed in Dragonstone as opposed to King's Landing was part political and part practical. With so many matches occurring, and the memories of the dual wedding still causing ill humor, it was for the best to have it here. It would also mean she could better control events as the host instead of a guest.

Harwin would see to making sure everything was secure. He was pleased to see his son wed. He had spent more time with him of late when his duties allowed, and it was good to see that Jace loved both Harwin and Laenor as parental figures.

"Rhaenyra, are you sure that is the proper styling of my hair? I fear it will hinder easy movement during the feasting."

Rhaenyra nodded. "Baela, we can do something simpler, but why? This is your only wedding, so why not make it memorable for all who attend? The many pins to hold it so high may distract you some on the dance floor, but I promise you that people will remember it."

Baela looked unsure, but then gave her a smile. "It is to be a grand affair, so even my hair should be grand, is that the right of it?"

"Indeed!" They both giggled, and Rhaenyra felt her heart more at ease than it had been for some time.

Daemon, for half a decade now, was still upset that he could not have his little war in Essos. The last time they had met she had snapped, and nothing prevented him from flying over and setting fire to some horse lords as Aemond was doing. He had not taken the comparison well, and he had shut out both her and his wife from their nightly pursuits and instead spent time with his whore from Lys.

Her heart had ached for Laena, who had been caught betwixt them.

Daemon has Tyrosh and the Stepstones, more than he could have hoped to inherit after he was removed from the line of succession. I have even allowed our son to be his heir even though it sets tongues wagging afresh. Will nothing ever appease his appetite?!

Dinner that night was a lively affair. Aenar jested with Baela and his dry wit caused her to lose her courtly composure. Rhaenyra was glad to see her so gay. She had enjoyed herself on Dragonstone and soon it would be time for the wedding. There was no trepidation in her manner, she was eager for the match.

Joffrey joined in the merrymaking and Rhaenyra felt another swell of contentment. It took a few moments for Baela to recompose herself and then she looked across to Rhaenyra.

"Oh, there is some good news. My grandmother will be attending the wedding after all; I received a letter from her earlier."

Rhaenyra smiled openly. "Has Daemon ceased worrying about Essos, finally?"

Daemon had regularly stated that there must always be a dragonrider on Tyrosh to prevent Essos from attempting to dislodge him.

"No, my father worries still, but he has grudgingly accepted your sister to watch over the island."

Jace frowned. "Aunt Elaena isn't coming to the wedding?"

Rhaenyra frowned. This was just like her.

"Most like," Laenor said in a light tone, "she wished to allow Rhaenys the opportunity and there was no one else. Your grandmother has missed many family events due to her service on the small council. It is right that she see her grandchildren be wed."

Rhaenyra took a large swallow from her cup.

"You would think that, but then, you have ever viewed her most fondly," Rhaenyra said.

Laenor stiffened. "What other reason would there be?"

"She obviously fears my displeasure at her taking a dragon from the island without so much as a by-your-leave. Does she think I would deny her son the legacy of our house?"

Laenor just looked at her. "She was denied an egg by you explicitly." He held up his hands. "I'll not quarrel with you over something that has already been done, but she was denied a dragon egg and then her half-sister bestowed Dreamfyre's eggs upon other kin. There is a saying from Essos, I believe, that goes 'one time is happenstance, twice is coincidence, and three times is a pattern.' Perhaps she did not wish to see her son being denied become a pattern among her kin. Wild dragons are by definition unclaimed, and thus a potential rider might see denial only in the face of that dragon's nature."

Rhaenyra scowled and Luke agreed with his father.

"Mother, your Grey Ghost was almost impossible to spot. Aenar and I once flew around trying to find where he nests and Arrax could never find it. To claim him was to best long odds."

"That is not at issue, what is at issue is her refusal to make that case before me. I am her elder and the heir to the Iron Throne. It would have been proper, and now she makes excuses not to attend and packages it as benevolence!"

"Mayhaps," Harwin rumbled, "but 'tis good for Rhaenys to attend, regardless of the reason. She will gaze upon this blessed union with joy in her eyes and 'twill be well-deserved for all hardships she's faced in the service of your cause, Princess Rhaenyra."

She exhaled and nodded. "As always, my loyal knight, you cut right to the heart of the matter." Rhaenyra raised her cup, "To Rhaenys! We will be glad to have her and the Red Queen attend this union, the union of two branches in the ever-growing House of the Dragon!"

Conversation moved on as the night waned, and on the morrow her son Jace found her in a private moment.

"Mother, it bodes ill that there is tension between you and your sister. She is well loved by all here and I speak for all your children that we would wish you were on better terms."

"Come here, sweetling," she patted at the chair next to her.

"Understand that I love Elaena. Even as she pricks me. It is what has me so upset. I have extended a hand of continued friendship time and again. Do I not open my home to her visits? Though I suspect her fears will keep her away for some time."

Jace nodded. "You do. It is just that… of late you have spoken ill of her more often. It makes father uncomfortable, you know he credits her and the Dragon Bank with even allowing for a victory in the Stepstones. Lord Corlys agrees as well."

Rhaenyra just shook her head. "Laenor and Lord Corlys are quite diplomatic and they dote on clever little Elaena, but it was my husband's prowess that won the day, not a reduced repayment for debts."

Jace looked as if he wished to argue the point, but then thought better of it.

"Regardless, I do hope you continue to extend your hand. Elaena has always been good to us. I'm not half the flyer I would be if she had not shown me all those tricks. And Cyvasse is quite the diversion, even if I fear I'll never catch up to some others who play. We just want the family to be on good terms."

"Oh, my sweet boy," she rubbed his back with her hand, "already you act kingly. But fret not, families sometimes argue. How many times did Viserys exile his brother? And yet they still love and respect each other. Know that my patience is quite long, even as she tries it. Once she has seen her error and begged my forgiveness she will of course have it!"

Jace looked worried still, and she wished he would relax a bit more. It was likely the jitters a man gets before a wedding that had him out of sorts. Once it was done and the joys of bedding Baela began, he would be more at ease. She kissed his forehead and dismissed him so that she could go spend more time with Harwin.

***

​

The wind was fierce, but that made it all the better in Aenar's mind. Tyraxes soared through the clouds with agile ease. He could tell his dragon enjoyed their flights together, and he oft took to the skies, assuming there was time. His days were busy with lessons from the Maester, arms training with Ser Harwin, and of course feasting. He took pride in his appearance, and it was arduous to get himself properly attired and bathed between lessons and feasts. Flying at night was something Rhaenyra did not wish for them to do often due to increased risks, and dragons were not so silent in their flights.


To give truth to that thought, Tyraxes let out a roar, and Aenar felt as if he wished to issue a cry from his own lips as well. His mount spewed purple flames into the sky in a riot of intense color. With a laugh, he called it a day and directed Tyraxes to lazily circle back down in the morning light. He could afford to go to arms training with dragon scent upon him, and since he intended to wash up after time in the yard anyway, he found the early morning the best time to ride.

Aenar was told he was an apt pupil, but having his older brothers and Braxton Strong prove to be his betters meant he did not oft look forward to it. He didn't begrudge them their skill and laughed off his defeats. It was most unlikely that he would ever be good enough for a tourney win, but what of it? Let those poor fellows who could not even fly a dragon have some glory. For surely riding the clouds was a greater feeling than any victory on the field.

Baela was there to watch and cheer them on. She enjoyed seeing them fight and often had a saucy jeer for a clumsy stroke or fall. Aenar thought it trod the line between mockery and a bit of feminine spice in the yard, but Jace seemed aggrieved.

"Nervous over the wedding?" he asked his eldest brother.

"She is still so young. I know she will outgrow some of her childishness, but I wonder if she has the bearing a Queen ought to have."

"Baela is ten-and-four and will mature. Our grandfather is still hale, as is our mother. She'll have several decades unless the Gods prove needlessly cruel."

Jace smiled at him. "Oh, says the wise old man of ten-and-five!"

Aenar returned the grin and picked up the practice blade. They danced in the sparring yard beneath the brooding stone draconic figures along the curtain wall as Ser Harwin called out mistakes in footwork. That part he did well. It was the striking that he found difficult. His brothers made it look easy to will their blades where they wished with speed and precision. Soon enough he was in the dust.

"'Tis a dull affair, my love!" Baela shouted. "At least fight Luke so you'll have a proper challenge."

Jace looked annoyed and about to say something, but Aenar kicked him lightly.

"She's to be your wife. Don't make a fuss on my account. Plus, Luke looks eager."

Jace nodded with a flash of gratitude and went over to Luke. Aenar looked over to Braxton and began another spar, one he also lost, but Harwin had praised his defense this time. He knew Harwin was his father, even before they had told him, just by dint of how alike they looked. He thought of his mother's sworn shield fondly, but he could never not see Laenor as his true father, the man who had taught him how to speak, how to conduct himself in court, and to comport himself with honor and dignity.

After sparring, he bathed and prepared for lessons with the Maester. The keeping of ledgers and accounts while a lord of a demesne was an important skill. While it was easy to have others do it, that is how fraud could occur. The reforms made many years ago deterred it, but he was always taught that once he ruled a holdfast or town, it would ultimately be his duty to see that it all was in good order.

A review of the major and minor houses of the Reach was next, and then finally time for one of the enchanting feasts he so enjoyed. The food was always a joy. Aenar took pains not to overindulge, only taking bites from the dozen or so confections that would be prepared each eve. Honeyed pastries filled with cream, all spiced in different ways. Candied fruits and tarts with multihued sugars sprinkled over them. Lemon cakes and puddings of every flavor. He had dined in King's Landing, in Driftmark, even in Tyrosh, but none could compare to what was artfully created on Dragonstone. Every succulent dish imaginable.

Aside from the feasting, he enjoyed the dance floor. Baela would dance with all of them, and she enjoyed the dances that held faster rhythms. In between bouts on the dance floor, the lords who had begun to arrive were a delightful assortment of leal lords. Many a toast to the beauty of Rhaenyra and Baela were made, and more than a few mirthful tales.

"Prince Aenar, my daughter tells me you are quite the dancer," Lord Simon Staunton told him with a smile.

"Has she now? She is too kind."

The girl was younger than him by a few years, and she had smiled shyly at him the entire time.

"Care to visit Rook's Rest after the wedding? We would be honored to host a member of the royal family."

He bowed his head lightly. "I would, of course, be honored; however, it is my mother and father who make those sorts of decisions, my lord."

Really now, Lord Staunton. Just how wrapped around the finger does your daughter have you?

"Yes, yes, but perhaps you might indicate that you'd like to visit before I bring forth the subject?"

He supposed he could acquiesce. Most likely his parents would deny the match Staunton was looking for, but it did not hurt to have lords remember a kindness given.

"It would only be the truth, so I will do so immediately upon the morrow," Aenar promised to a grateful father.

The rest of the evening continued to be pleasing, and he went to bed eager for the upcoming wedding, a chance to celebrate and for the realm to behold their future King and Queen united in front of Gods and men. Such events only occurred a bare handful of times in a decade, and he didn't want to miss a thing.

***

​

Drummok was the captain of an old whaler converted to a trading ship. There was far more coin to be made these days in trade and he would soon be wealthy enough to grow fat off his profits. After he arrived at Braavos he would set his sights on White Harbor. In times past, many would skip that port and make straight for Pentos and then Myr. Perhaps they would go to King's Landing, but the trade within Essos itself was oft more profitable.


That was no longer so. White Harbor had coin to spend and from Braavos his vessel would carry him to White Harbor, then to Gulltown, and even bypass Pentos altogether to reach Myr with greater haste. Myr would take him to King's Landing to unload bulky Scorpions, and then he would carry other goods back to White Harbor. A tidy profit and little fear of pirates in these days.

There are other dangers. Storms seemed to be gathering more swiftly from the North these days.

From his vantage over the deck, Drummok caught one of his crewmen slumped over. He had the look of a new hand, so the captain asked his first mate about him.

"Oh? He's a good lad, but his mum, Maryth, took a chill. Not wealthy folk, so in order to get coin he signed up for advanced pay to get her care."

With so many ships and increased trade, finding hands was difficult and one of the ways they recruited was providing the pay in advance of a journey instead of prior.

"Well, see to it that he looks livelier, I've not patience for the luskish."

"Aye, captain."

He watched the interaction and the new lad's nod. The young man livened up, but he would keep an eye out. Over the next several hours he watched as the new crew member worked hard at the tasks of keeping a ship afloat during rough seas. He approached to lend a kind word when he noticed the burgeoning reddish hue of his features.

"You look as if you've been out in the sun too long, yet there's been scant of it."

"I don't know, captain, I just feel warm, is all."

Warm this far in the north? I have an ill feeling about this…

Not two days later, the lad collapsed in a shivering mess.


Author's Note:

I've been out of work since January and thankfully I am in no immediate distress as I did get a severance. Several people have encouraged me to try writing fulltime and while I think it is a bit of a moon shoot, but hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? I'll be plugging my Patreon more often I've published over a 100k words in Feb , mostly BattleTech but also chapters for both ASOIAF stories, and that sort of sustained writing is not really possible with a full time job and other life responsibilities, but while I'm out of work, I've enjoyed doing this. If I do get enough support it would be incredible to actually keep doing this fulltime. We'll see, I'm keeping my expectations firmly in check here.

https://www.patreon.com/cw/failninjaninja

Thank you to the MVPs who have already donated - I had not expected that and honestly it is an amazing feeling. Thank you! I currently have voting for what my next project will be and that project will have early access chapters up on Patreon before posting them to here and AOE.

 

[Xodarap]

Daemon has Tyrosh and the Stepstones, more than he could have hoped to inherit after he was removed from the line of succession. I have even allowed our son to be his heir even though it sets tongues wagging afresh. Will nothing ever appease his appetite?!

Click to shrink...

Oh fuck Rhaenyra announced Aelyx as the stepstones heir with Daemons consent that is a obscenely scandalous move against the right for daughters to inherit not to mention Maegor hearing this.
Edit
Further fuck this is basically her neutering the children of Corlys and Rhaenys which must be why Elaena is subbing for her

 

[Kristoff Umber]

Further fuck this is basically her neutering the children of Corlys and Rhaenys which must be why Elaena is subbing for her

Click to shrink...

There's also the whole thing where Rhaenyra wants Rhaena and Lucerys to marry and for Luke to become the next lord Velaryon. That makes a ton of Velaryon branch members upset.

 

[HoxShorelight]

Funny thing is when the Winter Fever come in canon Desmond Manderly and his first born son Medrick Manderly die because of it and his younger son Torrhen Manderly then was Hand of the King and Regent for Aegon III have to leave and come back home to take over as Lord of White Harbour not to mention Medrick doesn't have a wife or any children
But in this story Medrick is married , child might be incoming and he is up in the True North , he might survive both the Winter Fever and The Others but his father and brother might not ,let hope his wife will

 

[Fellow Human]

What will Tanya do once civil war starts? I'm still not sure.
Though it looks like she will form a third faction, but whether she fence sits or cobra strikes first! I have no idea.
I suppose she could back Aegon.
Lfmao Tanya doesn't even know that brat Rhaenrya carries percieved grudges.

Rhaenrya, Daeron, Aemond and Daemon need to die, others are all optional I think.
Ofc Laena would carry a grudge WHEN Tanya kills Daemon, and so on.

I've been out of work since January and thankfully I am in no immediate distress as I did get a severance. Several people have encouraged me to try writing fulltime and while I think it is a bit of a moon shoot, but hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

Click to shrink...

Good luck mate, just keep in mind that making a hobby into a job can potentially ruin the fun. Being your own boss you would have to take into account pension which is normally deducted from salary and health insurance.
If you're organised and disciplined, then this could be great for you. Go write stories while renting a bungalow on Bali like other digital nomads do.
IMO best if you find some ez job that gives you a lot of idle time.

 

[Failninjaninja]

What will Tanya do once civil war starts? I'm still not sure.
Though it looks like she will form a third faction, but whether she fence sits or cobra strikes first! I have no idea.
I suppose she could back Aegon.
Lfmao Tanya doesn't even know that brat Rhaenrya carries percieved grudges.

Rhaenrya, Daeron, Aemond and Daemon need to die, others are all optional I think.
Ofc Laena would carry a grudge WHEN Tanya kills Daemon, and so on.

Good luck mate, just keep in mind that making a hobby into a job can potentially ruin the fun. Being your own boss you would have to take into account pension which is normally deducted from salary and health insurance.
If you're organised and disciplined, then this could be great for you. Go write stories while renting a bungalow on Bali like other digital nomads do.
IMO best if you find some ez job that gives you a lot of idle time.

Click to shrink...

That's where thinks get fun, people Elaena may truly love and like hold a grudge because one of their loved ones was a horrible monster who was now killed... that's when things get juicy!

Thanks, and yeah I'm a bit wary of that but I'm going to give it the old college try for the new few months while I live off my severance. Putting the job search on hold for now and truly giving this a solid chance. I'm keeping my current Health Insurance until June and then its ACA for me, premiums look awful for the good plans, so we'll see what it ends up coming out to. Leaving for a low cost of living country would have been ideal several years ago if I wanted to try this, but now I have obligations here stateside, including some family stuff. On the other hand I'm driving A LOT less so gas isn't as bad and I've adjusted my car insurance for extra savings.

 

[Turncoat]

Oh, neat. This got posted here.

 

[Failninjaninja]

A HUGE thank you to @MARch_Of_Time for their help with proofreading and greatly enhancing the chapter. The drums of the Dance begin to quicken...

Chapter 57

"I can't believe we're going about setting up government agencies and ruling so haphazardly… I'm so torn whether to celebrate our excellent coping skills or lament our lack of principles." -From the Saga of Tanya the Evil Vol. 6



Viserys had become used to flying as a passenger on a dragon. Not all dragons and riders had the skill to allow such a thing, but his cousin had always had a strong bond with the Red Queen. Meleys had been taught, or did so instinctively, to shield her riders from the full press of the wind as she soared. After he landed upon Dragonstone, his daughter and good-son were there to greet him, along with their children, Jace, Luke, Aenar, and Corwyn.

"Ah, my precious daughter, now you too get to feel the joy of seeing your firstborn wed."

Rhaenyra returned his hug, and Viserys was glad that past grievances between the two of them had been buried. He was proud of his daughter. The time in the Vale had done her well. The Arryns, both branches, had done well.

As always, Laenor looked courtly, bearing the smell of perfume and rosewater as opposed to blood and brimstone. At times, one could scarcely believe the man capable of the horrors he had wrought. Marrying his daughter to the Sea Snake's son had been among his decisions that were the wisest.

"You look well, Your Grace," Ser Laenor said with a cheerful smile. The man was seeing his eldest son wed; he had every right to look happy.

Viserys turned to Jace who was a strapping young lad. The appearance and likeness of his cousin Rhaenys had shown through. The Baratheon black hair was a rarity among the Targaryen line, and it would be interesting to see which won out for Jace's own children.

Others presented themselves including Laena, her daughters, Aelyx, and Maegor. Daemon came strolling in after the children had gone on their way. He embraced his brother.

"You look well, brother," Daemon said simply. "The House of the Dragon grows ever stronger with this union. The bloodline of ours rejoined!"

"Indeed," Viserys agreed, feeling a swell of pride. "It is an auspicious day."

When the pleasantries had run their course, Rhaenyra took him gently by the arm and escorted him into the halls of Dragonstone proper.

"Has Elaena not arrived yet?" Viserys asked as they walked. "'Tis unlike her to not be early to these events, and the wedding is on the morrow."

Rhaenyra looked surprised. "Were you not informed? Elaena had other matters to attend to."

Laenor hurriedly cleared his throat. "Your Grace, your daughter was asked to ensure Tyrosh had a dragonrider present. The thought was that so long as the pirates and Essos believe a dragon is on the island, they dare not attempt anything."

Viserys felt his good mood begin to dissipate somewhat. He had looked forward to seeing Elaena again, and the idea of her being used as a weapon of war, no matter how unlikely an attack was on the island, felt decidedly off-putting. She was of such gentle disposition, the very idea seemed absurd.

But then, when has she ever shirked a duty? She faces her fears like those of the birthing bed with remarkable aplomb. Even if she could barely get the words out from fright, she would yet cry 'Dracarys,' all the same.

"That was kind of her, but I could have asked Daeron to do so. He is not planning to attend."

Laenor leaned in curiously. "Are your other children attending?"

"Only Aegon and Helaena. The rest are off at Riverrun preparing Daenora's own wedding, of which in turn I must ask: will you be attending?"

Rhaenyra smiled. "I would not wish to make them feel awkward by attending Daenora's wedding when she could not attend my son's."

Daemon chortled, and Viserys just patted his daughter's hand. It was best just to assume she was earnest in her statement. He had no desire to create any discord or strife at this wedding. It was an auspicious occasion. His heir's heir would be wed and would hopefully soon have his own heir. A line that strong could surely not falter. It gave Viserys a sense of peace to know that the Seven Kingdoms would have many generations of peace and prosperity.

I was fortune in many ways, but I must take some credit for my good stewardship. A different King would have sought to conquer Dorne or expand further into Essos and bring bloody ruin to the great prosperity that has been wrought under my rulership.

The wedding itself was a fine affair, the many courses a rare indulgence for him. Rhaenyra and her stewards had done fine work. Dragonstone boasted a table that rivaled his own. Course after course arrived, from succulent roasted meats and honeyed fruits to all manner of sea creatures, and of course sweet delicacies. He knew Elaena would have thoroughly enjoyed those desserts.

Baela was radiant in her dress, the picture of springtime youth. Her form had not yet matured into full bloom, but if her mother was any indication, Jacaerys would be a fortunate man. The septon was not so long-winded, and the oaths made to each other and the swapping of cloaks were done promptly.

"Now, make merry and revel! This is a royal command!" Rhaenyra said as she raised her glass and invited the musicians to play and fire-eaters to begin their performance. Mummers and more drew the eye in half a dozen directions.

Viserys enjoyed the dancing. He missed Alicent in that moment, but it was for the best that she was not there. He stole a dance from the bride, one from his daughter, his cousin Rhaenys, and then a final one with Laena. He knew there were times in the past when this would have winded him, but his regular morning walks for a full bell had left him with the stamina of a man half his age.

The thought of those calm mornings and respites of easy conversation over the decades dimmed his smile once more, for it pressed upon him deeply in the moment that the youthful days with his beloved Elaena, when she had suggested the practice out of care for him, had quite long since passed. But it stirred his heart once more to think that those days might be mirrored in the lives of his children's children, and their own children.

The bedding was a spectacle, one he had thought would not have occurred, but Rhaenyra seemed to be entertained by the notion, as was Laena. He would spend the night as a guest and on the morrow return to the duties he had as King. For Viserys, this had been a wonderful event, time passing without ought going ill. He hoped Daenora and Kermit would likewise be just as easy and sweet.

And Elaena had best be attending!

***

​

The wedding had been joyous for Laena, but not all were as content as she.


"Rhaenyra is yet unmoved," Daemon complained impatiently to his wife. His tone held no shortage of annoyance and pointed displeasure.

Laena sighed long and tired, feeling the urge to rub at her brow. She had spun some schemes, but nothing had taken hold. Rhaenyra remained stubborn, and though she was cordial and even more pleasant of late, nothing had changed in that regard. Laena supposed she could have pushed her daughter harder, but it was her daughter's wedding, not something she wished to spoil due to schemes and machinations.

"My love, I understand your impatience, but Viserys will not change his stance. Viserys the Prosperous is a mighty fine title, but your brother wishes for Viserys the Peaceful to be his epitaph. You are the man who expanded the Seven Kingdoms, made the Stepstones and Tyrosh a paramount lordship. Your daughter will be Queen, and your grandchild will one day rule over a prosperous and powerful Seven Kingdoms. You are the Rogue Prince–"

"Oh, do be silent," Daemon interrupted. "Your flatteries are amusing but they grow tiresome in their repetition. There is more to do, and I grow restless. The games and joys of the bedchambers are fine things, but I was meant for more."

Laena looked at her husband angrily, and then crossed her arms. She was done with this. His own repetition and ill-humors grew tiresome to her as well.

"Fine, then. Do as you will. What will that be, Daemon? Will you defy your brother? Will you challenge his rule? What is it that you think you can do?"

She was upset and he had tried her patience once too often.

"What did you say?" His voice was low and filled with outrage.

"What is it that you think you can do? You ask me to sway Rhaenyra, but to what end? Do you think the King will not hesitate to strip her of the heirship, or will he content himself with just exiling her again? Your will is thwarted, and unless you wish to do something as utterly foolish as trying to press your own claim to the crown, you will do nothing. No wars, no conquests, all you can do is voice your dissatisfaction, to and at me who has ever aided you, and it grows tiresome. I cannot fix a situation that has no answer."

Her husband's violet eyes narrowed dangerously. Daemon stepped forward, crowding her, but Laena stood straight and resolute. She refused to allow him to cow her.

"Do it. Lay hand upon me Daemon and see the consequence."

Why am I doing this? I risk everything, even if my family protects me and Vhagar is deadlier than Caraxes.

Her husband did not strike her, instead, he kissed her. He had closed the distance in one swift motion, his lips still carried the taste of the wine he had most recently imbibed.

"I had wondered where your fire had gone. No, I would not strike the mother of our future Queen. You should know me better than that, my love. My anger is at Rhaenyra and my foolish brother. It is detestable, but you are right. The King will not be moved, and I will not be able to wage the war I desire. I will bide my time a little further, but let there be no discord between us. Come, it has been too long since we have slept together without the company of others."

Seven Hells, you damnable prick. Now you will pretend your attempts at intimidation were all to draw out the dragon within. I can see through your mummery. And yet… I still wish to lay with you.

Her heart had ever been willful. The freedom that had been promised to her had been invigorating, but now her marriage and her affection for Daemon felt more like a cage. One that she couldn't will away, for despite his myriad flaws, she could not cease desiring or being desired by him. As she returned his passions and they made ready for their lovemaking, she wondered if others felt the same as her at times. A dissatisfaction that promised no resolution as the years lengthened.

She resolved to enjoy the moment and not overthink things. Why ruin the now for concern over the future? But when the now became the past, she would then think long on what she desired in life. Was it riding the untamed dragon that was Daemon? Or perhaps it was time to let him slake his desire on his new plaything while she took her son and spent time with her parents on Driftmark.

Something to consider, but not now.

***

​

Hamish was pleased to see Elaena again. She didn't visit Tyrosh frequently due to Daemon's hatred of her, despite maintaining correspondence with the rest of her kin and interests upon the isle. Daemon's irrational frustration with his niece was something hard for Hamish to understand. Few realized just how much the Realm's Blessing had truly blessed the realm, but Daemon should have known better than most.


Was it not clear that Elaena's efforts had facilitated and stabilized Tyrosh's integration into the realm? That her suggestions had substantially reduced the threat of assassins?

No matter, high birth does not mean one cannot be a fool. His foolishness makes his successes all the more ironic for how much they too came to serve Elaena's ends, and my own fortunes.

As they played the Cyvasse game, they began speaking of things that were going on in Tyrosh and the broader Seven Kingdoms. News of Tyrosh was tame, despite the general misgivings the people had for their ruler, and talk soon drifted further north.

"It is honestly a pity, the first winter where the old men of the North do not have to go out and allow themselves to die on a 'hunt' and my efforts may not even have been needed given the Stark ranging well north of the Wall."

Hamish chuckled. "And yet if you had not made those preparations, he would have sat in Winterfell, no doubt."

Elaena eyed him. "The buttered side of bread does not always land face down, Hamish. Life has enough ironies that we do not need to add to them."

"As you say," he said with a grin, and moved his Rabble on the board.

His Cyvasse opponent smiled with amusement and immediately moved one of her Elephants. Hamish leaned onto the table and looked closely at the pieces. After long moments he stretched a bit and asked, "Will you be attending Daenora and Kermit's wedding? With you overseeing Tyrosh while Baela and Jacaerys are wed, it might make sense to miss both weddings instead of just one."

"I only missed Jace's wedding due to watching over this island. I fully intend to see Daenora wed. She'll be living right next door, so to speak."

Hamish finally moved his piece and cocked his head. "The amount of trade flowing through Silvervale is impressive. The Riverlands are growing wealthy from it as well. It is a marvel how you managed not to spike the cost of things with how much more everyone has."

"It requires a balance. More gold has flooded in from Essos, but there are more things to spend gold on and it is easier to make necessary tools. Inflation has reared its head in some markets, but by and large, we've kept it contained and the average household has acquired more conveniences. Scarcity has decreased thanks to efficiencies in process and in technologies the clever craftsmen we fund have created."

He smirked. "Clever craftsmen? I wonder at that. More than one branch has attempted what you do, and yet you find so much more success with the inventors."

"I have a discerning eye, and I can tell if someone has a true belief or if they are just looking to make coin. Not all my loans have borne fruit."

Find then, keep your secrets.

Her statement was true, nonetheless. Sometimes an idea she championed just did not work out, but the ratio of those that succeeded compared to those that failed was enviable. Hamish never failed to be impressed by the breadth of Elaena's knowledge. Her predictions on what sort of labor-saving devices had potential were really something.

Had Hamish been more like Daeron, he would say she was divinely inspired by the Smith. He half-suspected she had found some ancient working of kingdoms past that spoke of marvels and directed efforts to rediscover them. A part of him doubted she would be selfish enough not to share with the Seven Kingdoms, but it sometimes felt the only explanation, beyond divine intervention, that allowed her to be right so often.

The game continued to go poorly for him.

"You know that some will make it a point that you visited Riverrun during the wedding and not Dragonstone, despite the reason for it. Does the succession and the endless attempts of lords to influence each other truly not worry you?"

Elaena shook her head. "No, Daemon worries me more than that. The succession is clear and Viserys is unlikely to perish soon. He has the Kingsguard and is in exceptional health. Should he ever fall ill, I will gather the best minds in Westeros and leave no stone unturned to ensure he weathers it. Few kings have had as much popularity as my father," she gave a light nod and waved a hand with an idle gesture over the Cyvasse board, "Otto Hightower and the Greens could only hope to sway him if Rhaenyra does something foolish again. But what I suggested to the King so long ago has been further sealed by the marriage and Jace's further maturation. The young man has a good head on his shoulders. If my sister does something beyond forgiveness, she will be bypassed in favor of her son, and several key members of the Blacks will support it."

Hamish nodded along. That made sense, though her words doubtless concealed a depth of influence or preparations beyond what he would be made aware of. The intrigue of the capital was by necessity a ship that Elaena must steer.

"And the concern over Daemon?"

She sighed, and looked up at him briefly with her sapphire-colored eyes shifting in the light. "Because he's most like to start a conflict. A conflict we can win, but one that will cause loss of life and damage our prosperity. Vhagar, Caraxes, and Thraezarys could annihilate armies. Trying to force them to comply would invite dragons to dance to their deaths. I know not if Viserys would even order the dragonriders who are loyal to bring them down. He loves his brother, despite everything."

More moves were exchanged and Hamish realized that he had lost. The game had not been close, but it had been thrilling. The way Elaena played was different than Maegor. In some ways it seemed less mechanically sound, but it was far more invigorating. She told a story as she played, while Maegor exploited meager positional advantage into a resource one.

"You fear Viserys will not enforce his edicts if his brother refuses to obey."

"Correct, for when dragons fight, the lore of Old Valyria is clear. Most oft both riders die unless there is a sizeable difference between the dragons. The ability to bring down three rogue dragonriders is not in question. It is the cost of the heart that may prevent my father from acting. Fortunately, I believe Daemon is not yet ready to move." Elaena sipped from a spiced tea blend, leaning back as the game neared its inevitable conclusion. "Your efforts in the city to keep watch of his comings and goings have been helpful. The subversion and consolidation of the harbors and tolls through intermediaries under Dragon Bank control was particularly wise, given Daemon's lack of interest in proper governance. As well, bankrolling the street criers and preachers."

Those efforts Hamish could admit dedicating no small measure of his attention to. Many paths of wealth and power intersected with his activities, and most such interests had plenty of reason to seek favor with the Dragon Bank in Tyrosh. Those who feared Daemon and those who revered Targaryens, those who sought the Seven worshiped by their saviors and those who feared proselytization from the mainland.

Merchantmen, tollkeepers, guardsmen, factors, harbormasters, builders, shipwrights, hawkers, peddlers, craftsmen, holy men, freedmen, sellswords, paupers, healers, and on and on it went. Everyone had looser lips and deeper bows when speaking to the man who determined what businesses succeeded or failed, and whether the city would have enough food.

More even, with those who recognized Hamish himself as more than he appeared. Those who understood what the silver he wore truly meant. Most recently, it seemed that agents of those back home in the Vale were among the most interested in tracking Hamish's own moves, having perhaps caught on to threads of Elaena's influence spanning across Westeros.

Hamish felt his smile slant deeper into amusement. Elaena paid him honest compliments as if he had not learned a whole set of his more clever tricks from her when she accomplished much the same with the Dragon Bank in Lannisport. Perhaps to the Realm's Blessing, merely noticing the depths of her efforts merited acknowledgement. It was hard to disagree, when so much of the realm remained blind to her influence, both willfully or ignorantly. Hamish could scarcely imagine the full scope of her actions, despite years of knowing her.

Any competent merchant stayed abreast of winds and words, but since his early days in Gulltown, Hamish had grown far beyond merely keeping a thumb upon the pulse of the city. He had instilled himself and the Bank's operations at the heart of Tyrosh and aught it touched. And with Elaena's control of the Dragon Bank back at the capital, he was confident he could arrange just about anything she directed of him.

"I would not see the city marred with war, nor any other. Viserys the Prosperous has overseen a time of unprecedented plenty. I believe we even near the marvels of Old Valyria at this rate!"

Elaena smiled. "Yes, life has become much better. The smallfolk love him. Literacy is rising, and keen minds and able swords can rise high. I am most pleased with how everything has gone these last couple of decades."

Hamish could but shake his head at that. He and Elaena both were born just over a couple of decades ago, but to hear her speak of it, she might already have been running the small council. The thought of a tiny princess Elaena, not five name-days old, already plotting financial policy for the kingdoms filled him with hysterical sense of it being impossible, yet amusingly believable.

"Another game?" he inquired over his chuckling.

Elaena nodded, quietly amused in that manner she was when being politely sly. "Of course. I've not had chance to play as frequently as I'd like. My son has learned all the moves and is learning the strategies, but it is not much of a game yet. And after all, Viktoriya needs no rider to make herself seen by the little ears in the employ of Essos."

And just as she said, an almost eager roar echoed distantly from above the city.

***

​

"That is who you are to marry?" Aemond scoffed.


Daenora slapped him on the arm. "Behave, brother. I am to wed a Paramount House, one of the major powers in Westeros. Who else is fit for a Targaryen? Those were your own words."

"The ship has passed beyond the horizon, but Aegon wed Helaena, that was a proper match."

And in Aemond's mind, more's the pity for that fact. Daenora was a picture of Targaryen beauty. Her hair was cut shorter than was fashionable, but it gave her a bold look that he found thrilling. No blemish marred her features, and she stood a slight bit taller than her sisters. Her hair of platinum and violet eyes made her look even more Targaryen than those with purer blood.

"Grandfather would not have allowed it, he says we need the strength of the others houses to ensure our place."

He rides no dragon.

"If war is to come, the doings of those earthbound are of no concern." He put up a hand against her rejoinder. "No, allow me to finish. I myself have been wounded in battle, in the east. A dragonrider is not invulnerable, ill chance can let a stray bolt or arrow inflict harm, but in truth all must understand that in any conflict it is the dragons that will decide the outcomes."

As Aemond said those words, he could already envision those he would face in battle. The way Vermithor could be used to shield against another's flame. How to use the mass of the beast to his advantage. What safeguards he had against common forms of attack. Those moments would be among the most exhilarating of his life, and he could almost taste the smoke upon the air.

Daenora just shook her head. "As you say, the ship has passed beyond that horizon, so there is no use complaining over something unless you choose to change it. Elaena was always clear on that, and in this matter, you will not attempt to change it. Are we clear, Aemond?"

He bowed his head with a dramatic flair.

"I'd not do something so tawdry when your wedding is on the morrow. If I had meant to object, I'd have done away with Kermit long ago. Fret not, your betrothed is safe."

It is good to see you smile again, sister.

Most of the guests had arrived, but the true celebration was not until the morrow. The King and Hand and all the others had been there for a few days now. He made his way over to his grandfather's chambers.

"The prodigal son returns."

Aemond quirked an eyebrow. "I've sent chests full of gold to you, grandsire. I hope you've done more with it than purchase those Myrish contraptions."

Otto gave him a thin smile. "Those scorpions, individually, are unlikely to strike true, but given enough opportunities, it is not too much to expect that we will get lucky at least once. And no, I have not only spent coin on those devices. Other expenses have arisen, but rest assured, our numerical deficiency in dragonriders will be corrected when the time is ripe."

It isn't sporting, but even I would have difficulties facing multiple dragonriders at the same time.

"And I will do my part as well. I relish the arrival of that day."

Otto gave him a meaningful look. "You realize that is just another way of saying you long for your father's death."

Aemond gave a short bark of laughter. "I hold the man no great grudge, but he has never been affectionate with me, so I have no qualms in looking forward to his departure, given that it means my legend can truly begin to be writ. I will mourn for the way some of my siblings will mourn, but they are resilient."

His grandfather seemed about to say more, but then halted.

"I would urge you to stay within easier reach. Traveling to and fro in Essos makes it difficult to reach you; the coin has been welcome, but if we miss our window of opportunity… that would be unfortunate."

Aemond shrugged. "It has been too long since I've seen some of my family. The short time here for the wedding will not be sufficient. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a game to get to."

Otto grabbed his arm as he turned.

"Just remember, none of your siblings can know what we plan. Some would not understand."

"I am not a fool," Aemond said with a smirk, turning his head slowly to look askance. "I know my siblings better than you do, so do not presume to lecture me on caution."

Otto released him, and Aemond went to find Elaena for their Cyvasse game. The murder of dragons was something he knew she would not approve of, but with the odds so heavily stacked against Aegon's claim, there was little choice. Either way, he would give the scholars much to ponder when the dragons truly began to dance to the drums of war.

A thought lingered in his mind, though, from the ghost of touch where his grandsire had grabbed his arm.

His grip... was weak.

***

​

Viserys could not help but compare the two wedding celebrations. Riverrun was playing host and they seemed to have spared no expense for the celebrations. The ancient Tully seat had looked different in his memory before the extensive decorations had shaped the vision before him. Banners carrying the trout of House Tully were not equal in number to the black and red of House Targaryen. It made his heart swell with pride at how honored Riverrun was to have his child join their house.


Riverrun was crowded with people, partly due to a royal wedding, and partly due to the massive tournament that had been organized. No such tourney had occurred for Jace's wedding, and Dragonstone could never have hoped to accommodate so many people. As King, people always approached him, but after the first few dozen it had grown wearisome at the feast. Finally, he found time to just sit and talk with his daughter, Elaena. His Lord Commander had formed a cordon around the table and firmly rebuffed everyone who came near.

"Ah, I had hoped you would attend. I was most disappointed not to see you at your nephew's wedding."

Elaena's husband bowed his head deeply. "Forgive us, Your Grace, but more than a few of Prince Jacaerys and Lady Baela's closest kin had concerns for the security of Tyrosh, and those who might otherwise have kept a dragon flying over the island to deter any adventurism had so dearly wished to attend. How could we refuse when they requested it of us?"

"Yes, but," then he waved himself off, "no, never mind. 'Tis no longer important, I am just glad you are both here."

"I am glad as well. Father, these weddings seem to suit you, you look well."

Viserys felt a genuine smile form without any effort. "Few things are better than seeing your child or grandchildren wed. Our dynasty is more secure than ever and reminders such as this are good for the soul."

"Speaking of ensuring that continued security, I've heard troubling reports from White Harbor. A disease has taken root and, given the amount of trade White Harbor does, it may already be spreading. This is a joyous occasion, but there are some steps that we should consider. Steps that may bring short-term economic hardship, but are necessary if this is as bad as I fear it may be."

Viserys frowned. "I have not heard of any reports of this."

"It is somewhat fresh, but scores have already died. The disease strikes quickly and most who fall ill by it end up perishing. We need to put a halt to shipments from White Harbor for the time being, and hold vessels that arrive in quarantine for at least a week with confirmation that no one aboard is ill."

"That seems a bit extreme," Viserys replied.

"The week is already a compromise; I have no idea yet as to how long the delay period is before a victim begins to show illness. After this, I plan on visiting directly."

No, you will not!

"I forbid it. If such an illness is so dangerous, you will not go near it. Elaena, your knowledge has always been a boon, but there is no reason for you to put yourself at risk personally."

Kevan gave him a grateful nod, something loosening in his shoulders, but Elaena had the look of someone about to argue.

"The Maesters are the ones who should be learning more of this. Please, Elaena, I will consider your proposal to delay the disembarkation of the sailors for a time, but only if you do not try to investigate such a thing personally!"

Elaena looked at him with inscrutable eyes.

"I will delay going to White Harbor personally, but I will fly individuals who will investigate on my behalf. This is on the condition that we allow the quarantine of incoming sailors to ports across our eastern coast."

Viserys made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "I will speak of it to Otto this very night. Now, let us not let talk of disease and worry cloud the next several days. We have a wedding, dancing, several feasts, and a grand tourney to enjoy!"

Elaena proved biddable and no more talk of this 'Winter Fever' was held. He was free to sit back and enjoy all the festivities. The Tullys were proving to be affable hosts and many a toast was made to his health, the House of the Dragon, the bride, the groom, and the union between trout and dragon. The food was indulgent, if not quite as grand as the culinary artists of Dragonstone. Fish was one of the items he could eat with relish, provided it was prepared properly, and Elaena nodded approvingly as he skipped over venison and beef in favor of an abundance from the sea.

Ironic that these two weddings, separated by so many leagues, both had so many fish dishes.

Later, Viserys did indeed speak with Otto, who sounded unconvinced.

"Your Grace, holding over sailors coming from a long voyage, sometimes with goods that require timely arrival, is too much. Perhaps a personal inspection by the dockmasters to ensure no one is obviously ill instead."

"I've already agreed to it. If you have concerns, talk to Elaena, but unless she comes to me and says otherwise, the decision is final."

Otto looked discomfited. "Your Grace, I will do as you command, of course, but your daughter is not even on the small council. Why hold her counsel with such weight? She may be learned, but she is no Maester. I ask again, let me send ravens to the Citadel and delay…"

"No, my friend. I have already given my daughter my word. If you wish to convince me otherwise, save your breath and instead consult with Elaena."

I am not going to risk Elaena doing something foolish such as visiting a town rife with a deadly ailment. But all the same, I wish not for any to know that I was willing to upend the course of commerce for a time, just so that my precious daughter would heed my request and prioritize herself, instead of seeking ever dutifully to serve the realm…

Otto bowed his head and went to seek Elaena, and Viserys smiled to himself. His sweet daughter was not someone people wished to butt heads with. Even accomplished men with keen wits would prefer not to argue with her. He truly did wish she had relented and become the Master of Coin, but she had begged off, pleading that she was happy with her life in Silvervale. That being around Kevan and the children in their wonderful home away from the court was something that gave her genuine joy and contentment. When put that way, with all she had ever done to support him and the realm, how could he object?

As the night moved on, Viserys spoke with Kermit and concluded the lad would be good for Daenora. He seemed grounded, a bit overwhelmed, but had a good head on his shoulders. He spied Daeron there as well sharing some words with Daenora, his own betrothed looking quite fetching as she laughed with merriment at some jest.

It was a surprise to see Aemond again. He looked well, and at times he reminded the King of a younger Daemon. Viserys despaired over Aemond's future and wondered if he should have simply ordered him to marry. As King, and father, he had that right, but with no pressing need to secure an already formidable house, he felt he could let the young prince choose his own path.

Aemond chose not to wed 'beneath him,' but his arrogance was such that it meant he would never find anyone. A Targaryen alone in the world is a tragic thing, but Viserys wondered if Aemond even minded. His son prowled the festivities without apparent care or trouble creasing his features.

'Tis his life, and thanks to his siblings, I now have nine grandchildren. Even if he never sired an heir or took a proper wife, the Seven Kingdoms will remain as indomitable as ever.

Author's Note: If you would like to support me writing fulltime - please check out my Patreon.

https://www.patreon.com/cw/failninjaninja

Currently, my new story A Young Warg's Game of Thrones has its own story thread with five chapters, but my Patreon has a full four extra chapters. Additionally you can vote on new projects to begin work on. That story actually narrowly won out over a Solo Leveling idea.

 

[bruhdude]

Very nice. Tftc

 

[Fellow Human]

We finally get Tanya's comment on the upcoming civil war...and she naively thinks it won't happen? What?
Has she been cozy for too long?
She didn't even mention contingencies, yeah she made sure Visyerys is healthier, but anything can happen.
And obviously the biggoted medieval nobles will be patriarchical so what clear line of succession is she talking about, when they're open secretly preparing for war?

Unless this talk was half truths and omissions as she doesn't even fully trust Hamish?

 

[Failninjaninja]

We finally get Tanya's comment on the upcoming civil war...and she naively thinks it won't happen? What?
Has she been cozy for too long?
She didn't even mention contingencies, yeah she made sure Visyerys is healthier, but anything can happen.
And obviously the biggoted medieval nobles will be patriarchical so what clear line of succession is she talking about, when they're open secretly preparing for war?

Unless this talk was half truths and omissions as she doesn't even fully trust Hamish?

Click to shrink...

Her thought is if Rhaenarya does something stupid and gets disinherited, Jace is competent and would still have the backing of the Dark Storm. The Waywardens are essentially her organization now. She's having Hamish keep tabs on things in her most likely hotspot (Daemon). She's built two 'safe houses' her bunker protocol for her family.

 

[Fellow Human]

Her thought is if Rhaenarya does something stupid and gets disinherited, Jace is competent and would still have the backing of the Dark Storm. The Waywardens are essentially her organization now. She's having Hamish keep tabs on things in her most likely hotspot (Daemon). She's built two 'safe houses' her bunker protocol for her family.

Click to shrink...

So she doesn't know even Jace doesn't have much support, even the Blacks know he's a bastard.
Or that the Greens will rebel whether Rhaenrya fucks up even more or not. Sure she made Silvervale as safe as possible, but it's better to strike first.

What about her neutrality, if she's really all for supporting the chosen heir, then why hasn't she actually sided with them?
I thought she was planning to thrive in chaos and choose neither of the fucked up family, even though she doesn't want to rule.

 

[Aeden Emrys]

Thanks for the great story so far !
I hope to be reading much more of this greatly interesting story of yours !

 

[The Overlord]

Love to see a Tanya fic, especially one with some actual length, cant wait for the rest of whatever you have planned for this story!

 

[Failninjaninja]

Thanks for the great story so far !
I hope to be reading much more of this greatly interesting story of yours !

Click to shrink...

Love to see a Tanya fic, especially one with some actual length, cant wait for the rest of whatever you have planned for this story!

Click to shrink...

Thank you both! I've got the next chapter to my editor, but it may still be a few days as they got busy with IRL stuff. I'm pretty excited for the next few chapters as the build-up phase is almost over!

 

[Failninjaninja]

A HUGE thank you to @MARch_Of_Time for their extensive help with this chapter!!

Chapter 58

"We must prevent this plague that would eat away at the Empire. If we don't prevent it, the cost to society…" -From the Saga of Tanya the Evil Vol. 3



For Jace, the first months of married life had not changed his day-to-day much, though evening feasts and the nights afterwards were more pleasurable. Baela enjoyed dancing, feasting, and dragon riding. She was also at times impatient and had quite the sharp tongue.

"Jace, you must do something about this. I enjoy fresh fruit and we are at the nexus of multiple trade routes!"

"Baela, you know trade has been strangled of late, and why. White Harbor has been hit hard by the Winter Fever, as has Pentos. My grandsire has been clear on his orders to the harbormasters across the realm. Vessels must remain docked for seven days before unloading any goods and must swear that none aboard are ill."

"'Tis folly, let us just fly somewhere and pay orchard keepers and vineyard owners directly. We have dragons, Jace!"

Jace was taken aback by the suggestion.

"I would not even know where to begin, and would that also not cause danger? People are dying in the Crownlands and Riverlands as well. We have plenty of food here, my love, there's no need. But I will go flying with you if you'd like."

She turned away from him. "No, if you are too craven to go out and do something then forget it."

Jace felt his face flush, but he would not be goaded into folly. He was to be King one day, and that required an even temperament.

"As you will, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Baela looked annoyed and made a show of stalking off, somewhat ruined by her hesitant glance backward. With her gone to sulk somewhere, Jace went to the yard. Young Corwyn was working the pell with his sword and Jace gave an encouraging shout.

"Fierce, just like our father!"

Corwyn turned and his concentrating look gave way to good cheer; he was nearing his tenth name-day and since his dragon, Rusthrax, was still too young to fly, he spent most of his free time at play or in the yard.

"Jace! Look, I finally figured out the combination of strikes Joffrey taught me."

Jace smiled and gestured for him to be shown.

Corwyn took a two-handed stance and demonstrated. It was a feint, followed by a strike to the mid-section, that bled into a parry from an invisible foe, a step forward and then a low sweep. The move was designed to take a foe off their feet and made use of the raw physicality that the sons of Rhaenyra all had.

"Well done! Soon you'll be entering into a melee or two yourself."

Jace spent some time helping Corwyn out, including a mock duel. Jace pushed him hard, but effectively and took time to praise his improvement. His youngest brother bore a serious expression, one that was a younger mirror of Ser Harwin's. Jace knew that whispers and accusations would likely dog his life and his reign, but he still would not change a thing. His family may not be the way the septons would have liked it, but he cherished it. Both Harwin and Laenor had taught him much, and he was grateful to both.

After a pleasant time in the yard, he saw two dragons in the air heading east. Moondancer and Arrax.

No… surely Luke isn't foolish enough to join Baela in looking to purchase fruit on a lark!

"Seven hells!"

He dashed up the stairs and sought out his father. After locating him, he explained that Baela had talked of finding a fruit merchant or farmer and just purchasing the delicacies Baela so enjoyed in Tyrosh, and would normally also have at Dragonstone were it not for the difficulties in trade.

"East, you say? I am not certain either of them would even know where to look. I'll go northeast and then once the shore is visible I will fly south. You go southeast and then fly north upon sight of the shore. If you lay eyes on them, use the battlefield voice over the wind and say I've instructed them to return. I'll inform your mother and then be off. If we have not sighted them after crossing this area, then we return and await them here."

Jace nodded and quickly took Vermax into the sky. In truth, there was little risk, but Essos was already on guard thanks to the situation in Tyrosh. Daemon had made it no secret that he desired more of Essos under his control. There were tales that Myr had a hundred scorpions ready to sting any dragon who flew near. Myr was nowhere near where Baela and Luke may have gone, but still, he had the edge of worry in his mind.

Contagion was unlikely, but that too could take place. He assumed neither was as foolish as to accept goods from someone visibly ill.

Well…

He flew and flew and eventually spied Laenor in the meeting point of their paths, and Laenor shouted to return. Unease rose in Jace's stomach. The sky was vast and they had left before he did. It was quite difficult to find someone unless one knew where they might be headed.

Jace and his father arrived back on Dragonstone where he saw Baela, Luke, and the others waiting for them. His mother gave a chaste kiss to Laenor and then turned toward him, a bemused smile on her face.

"Jace, it warms my heart to know how deeply you care for Baela and worried over her so, but you must learn some trust as well."

Jace's confusion must have been writ upon his features.

"I went flying because you made light of my complaints, my lord husband. I've flown with Luke and Aenar before, you really can't think me so silly as to go off to Essos after you said we shouldn't," Baela said sweetly while her eyes danced with amusement.

His worry twisted into anger, but he mastered it. It was clear to him Baela had done this deliberately as some sort of jape, but what was important was that both were safe.

"All is well that ends well. I am sorry for worrying everyone on my assumption."

His mother kissed his brow. "Worry for those you love is never wasted. Come, we may not have oranges and peaches, but a fine table will still be laid."

Baela took his arm as they entered the feast hall. She whispered to him.

"I still want you to find a way to get me what I desire, husband. I care not if it isn't profitable for a merchant; send a raven and arrange for it. I'm to be Queen one day, and being denied something so simple as a peach is beneath our dignity. We are the blood of Old Valyria."

He wasn't even sure if she was being serious or not. And he doubted she would give him a straight answer. Trade had greatly diminished and many merchants were forgoing Westeros, with their harbors all enforcing the rules. Essos, Dorne, and the Summer Isles were more lucrative for the time being, especially for items like foodstuffs. Silks, furs, glass, and jewels were still traded as the extra time quarantined in port still made the journey worthwhile.

But was any of that even the matter to Baela? She already knew the nature of the problem and what little might be done, did she even try to handle it herself? Were the fruits just a convenient excuse or inciting spark to have her fun? Would she really grow more spiteful or teasing of him over this... minor inconvenience, one that was a reality faced by the whole of Westeros?

Life with Baela will not be uninteresting.

***

​

Kevan suspected that other people had no idea how worried Elaena was. Or that she was truly worried at all. She continued to carry herself with the effortless grace she always did. However as her husband, he knew she was deeply concerned over the spread of Winter Fever. He could see it in the tightness around her eyes and the sharpness to her tone of late. Despite their efforts, the deadly ailment had spread. Silvervale was yet untouched, but White Harbor, Claw Isle, and Old Anchor had all been hit hard. From there it had begun to ravage the Riverlands.


In the south, Tyrosh was affected, but had weathered the storm better than White Harbor. During one of their many discussions of the crisis, Kevan had suggested that it might be due to the warmer environs dulling the power of the Winter Fever, but Eleana had looked almost pained, saying with a measure of exasperation that it was true, but not in the way he thought.

Elaena was no stranger to exasperation, much as she tended to hide such feelings, but the spike of frustration tightening the corners of her expression in that instant had clued Kevan in to the complexity of the factors she must have been weighing. Things he knew he would have an interest in understanding, had they the spare time for him to learn. He could almost see from moment to moment her struggle with a desire to explain and converse on the matter, warring with a need to focus on the immediate problems and preparations.

Kevan had felt significantly more disquieted about the spread ever since. Quiet preparations and procedures to protect Silvervale proceeded with his full backing, while special measures to protect his own wife and children discreetly redoubled.

The disease had come even to Storm's End. Borros Baratheon had fallen ill with it, but had survived the tremendous fever. Two of his daughters were not so fortunate. Other nobles had suffered, including Lord Errol's young son. Not everyone seemed to catch Winter Fever when it invaded a place, but those who did fall ill were almost certain to perish.

A terrifying game of chance, one that made his concerns for his own family feel more and more foreboding.

"Father will be displeased, but I must have more firsthand information," Elaena told him, the day they learned that Lord Darry had died from his fever.

They were in the large room that displayed a detailed map of Westeros. She'd devised a clever system to write upon the glass that housed the map upon the wall. She could erase her markings at will and as she received reports on the spread of Winter Fever, she marked symbols indicating the reported severity and extent of it. Kevan suspected nowhere in Westeros, or in all the world, had something like this.

Kevan shook his head forcefully. "You cannot. Elaena, if I were to lose you…"

"Husband, you will not. No Targaryen has fallen ill yet, and you know I never get sick."

He strode a few paces to burn off the spike of anxiety her words brought to his heart, before leaning softly to lift her hand and kiss it. "I remember that you had a brief spell of sickness early on when our Fraedrik was growing inside of you."

She gave him a cross look. "That was brief, and then when I… ah, the point remains the risk is significantly less."

It was unusual of her to look past legitimate concerns or arguments like this, but also painfully true to her nature when it concerned her own safety, as he'd come to understand. He had sworn to Elaena and her father both that he would guard her in all ways, even those her wise eyes remained blind to.

He wasn't going to let it go. He could do much to support her in any path or decision she made, but he would not let it go unsaid when he felt she was making a mistake. He knew from better times that she appreciated the spine to share his advice, and indeed expected no less of him. It was times like these where that mattered most.

"Targaryens have suffered from birthing fever. You yourself said Laena was very nearly lost when she gave birth to Maegor. Haven't you also made complaint of Rhaenyra forgoing your father's wishes when she seemed set on helping Daemon go to war with Lys and Myr? Now you are suggesting open defiance yourself!"

"That all- 'tis different, Kevan! I know more about disease vectors than the entire Citadel! My involvement will have an untold impact upon how well the continent weathers this disaster."

Kevan did not doubt that at all. Elaena was a font of knowledge that staggered the imagination. No Grand Maester was ever so learned. He was not certain how that came to be, only that it was undoubtedly true.

But her words belied something at the heart of what each of them were thinking... this was a disaster, chaos beyond any one person.

Kevan allowed his eyes to sting with unshed moisture as he met her gaze, slowly releasing her hand to ghost his own upon the sides of her shoulders.

"You say it true. No one knows more than you, which is why you are too valuable to risk. What if it worsens? You must ensure your health remains lest we flounder without your wisdom."

She narrowed her striking blue eyes at him.

"A clever attempt, and adequately reasoned, but insufficient. I will not be moved by words." Her own hands twitched and flew up across her chest to gently clasp at his where they lay against her arms, a slight tremor in them as her voice took on a more impassioned note, "I will not sit idly by while everything I have built for this kingdom falls to ruin from some disease! I will fly to Dragonstone first and speak with Laenor. He's to go to places yet untouched and remind them that any who disobey the King's orders for quarantine efforts will face his wrath. After I've ensured he understands his duty, I will make for Bronzegate. House Buckler is on the edge of the main holdfasts dotted around King's Landing. I've been mostly concerned about trade by sea, but if it comes to the capital over land…"

Kevan was still in awe of how Elaena managed so much influence over the Dark Storm, especially when she was at odds with the man's wife, her own sister. He was a man, of course, and had friendships and debts of loyalty like any other, but he was also so much more. Elaena was already the most powerful woman in Westeros for her work with the Dragon Bank and through the power of trade, as well as having her father's ear. But few realized, even without all of that she would still wield power unmatched through her sway over Laenor Velaryon.

"My love, please. Your children need you. Fraedrik and Alys need their mother; I don't know the first thing of how to teach them to be proper dragonriders, let alone share with them the depths of your knowledge."

Not that Alys had a dragon, but Kevan assumed more eggs would one day be forthcoming.

"All who love you would agree that you should not do this! Shall I write to the Queen and ask her opinion? Your father? Your other siblings? I know both Aegon and Helaena would be of like mind, and so would the others!"

Kevan let loose a slow exhale, adding softly, "Please, don't ask us to live without you. I can't live without you."

Her expression wavered for the briefest instant, then cooled.

"Your care and concern for me is rational," she bowed her head slightly, eyes closing for a moment and looking more tired than ought else, "but you do not know the capability of the blood that runs through my veins or the extent of the knowledge that ensures that I will be fine. I swear it to you – Winter Fever will not claim me. If you have any trust in my words, then abide by my decision and do not seek my kin's opinion on this."

A part of him wanted to put his foot down, but their marriage had never been one where he as her lord husband had any real control over her. It wasn't even that they were equal partners either, Elaena was far and away utterly without equal. Both from her connections to her family and from her personal authority as a dragonrider, along with her unrivaled mind that was only matched by her personal beauty.

As he ever did, Kevan would respect who Elaena was, above what he wanted.

He lowered his gaze, and closed the last bit of distance between them to wrap her in a quick embrace.

"As you wish, I will not inform the king or any of your kin. When will you return?"

"I do not know," she said from where she leaned into the curve of his neck, "but I will be cautious. While I am confident I will not be laid low by the disease, it may be possible that I carry it. I will need to wait a sufficient amount of time as we do with ships coming to a port. I must also… test some theories I have on treatment possibilities if the worst should occur and Targaryens can fall ill to it."

This is alarming. She had earlier suggested her Targaryen blood would prevent her from falling ill with it. I want to trust her, but I fear she is not as confident in the peril of Winter Fever as she claims.

Kevan felt himself pause, sense of perspective shifting back to reconsider the previous conversation. The subtle differences in the way she held herself, her shifts in tone, the logic she used or dismissed at will.

As his realization grew, he hugged her closer.

She is afraid, perhaps more than ever before. She wants to be ready in case her family grows ill, so she can find a means to prevent their deaths. Yet again, she places her love for family above even fear for herself. My sweet and brave Elaena, you do too much!

***

​

The gods could be cruel. It was a blasphemous thought, and Alicent hated herself for thinking it, but it seemed all too true. Despite all the precautions that gave voice to thousands of complaints, Winter Fever had come to King's Landing. The Red Keep had been sealed and if one were to leave, that person would be forbidden from returning.


But we must still eat.

According to Elaena's instructions, the disease may well be transmitted through objects that were within the possession of an afflicted. Time afforded safety, but no full assurance the danger had passed. Alicent knew some of the small council had voiced stringent objections to her husband enacting Elaena's suggestions, but in the end the disease still struck.

Larys, the Master of Whisperers, had said that over a dozen individuals had been found breaching the protocol at the gates, and had blamed a number of the household guard along with the serving staff. Alicent knew some swore innocence, but even so, they were now in the Black Cells.

It seemed cruel that the plague was causing so much suffering among those she held most dear, even more so than the smallfolk.

Perhaps we are being punished for Aemond's sin.

Everything was being kept quiet because her husband had fallen ill with the dreaded Winter Fever. He had ordered the Grand Maester to not send word out. Alicent knew he feared his children would come to visit him. Aegon, Helaena, and the children had been sequestered, and they had not fallen ill. Alicent could not visit them, for she had the beginnings of it as well.

So many did. Her maids, some of the guards, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Grand Maester Orwyle, and Lord Isembard Arryn had also been laid low. Fortunately, her father had sequestered himself in the Tower of the Hand with the Master of Whisperers and seemed to have avoided the fate of so many others.

Confined to the small section of the Red Keep she resided in, along with her husband and the other sickly notables, she could hear the delirious groans of Ser Harrold Westerling. The elderly knight was not expected to survive his ordeal, but Alicent still prayed for the Mother's mercy.

As she turned the corner leading to the king's separate room, she saw a seemingly hale and healthy Ser Criston, and her eyes widened in shock.

"Ser Criston, what are you doing here? Have you fallen ill as well?"

"No, Your Grace, but there needs to be more than just one Kingsguard protecting the family."

A healthy one, or at least one capable of fighting, he did not say.

"I'd rather you have not chanced it and stayed protecting my son," she snapped. "I can be assured of your loyalty, but I am uncertain of the others. That was foolish, ser."

Ser Criston stood erect in his white armor. No slouch or change in posture as he stood guard before the King's chambers.

"As you say, Your Grace," Criston intoned with a bow of his head. "'Tis too late now. Before the Grand Maester lost consciousness he gave strict instructions that any of the sickly are not to leave these areas. Only if the King himself commands it will I obey the order, and risk spreading this accursed affliction to the others."

Alicent could only nod. She knew her time of trial would come soon. The red flush on her face seemed etched in some indelible ink. Within the next day she would be strapped into a bed and ice would be used in an attempt to stave off the worst of the fever. She was fearful of it, but also knew that she was hardy. Seven children she had gifted Viserys; she would survive this as well.

She entered to see the other Maesters tending to her husband.

"My love," she said, though her feelings for him were complicated, "there may still be time to have your family see you should you not recover. Do you not want parting words to Aegon, Helaena, or Elaena?"

"N-n-n-o," he said between chattering teeth. "Y-y-you, know t-t-tha-at Elaena would come. P-perhaps t-too late n-now, b-but I may yet r-r-recover. And I'll not r-r-risk anyone else. I have p-p-prepared l-l-letters for each of my c-c-children."

They must have been dictated, for he was in no condition to write. Or perhaps he had written them earlier, even as soon as he started feeling unwell, had he resolved himself...

Fear gripped her, for her own possible journey into death, but also for Viserys, and what it would mean. Her father had once said Viserys would not live to be an old man, such was his indulgence in food and drink, but it seemed her father's predictions were in vain. Like so much else, Alicent knew it was due to Elaena's insistence on proper 'diet' and physical activity. It seemed cruel that one who had made effort to improve would succumb to such a wretched disease.

Father says war can be avoided. He has his plan that he will not speak of. But can it? Will the Dark Storm allow his wife to be usurped?

Viserys was shivering uncontrollably now. The vitality had leeched from him with the coming of Winter Fever and it seemed as if he had aged years in the span of just some days. The Maesters had warned that normally useful substances like milk of the poppy could make things worse, or at least they suspected it.

What seemed true in White Harbor was not true in Tyrosh, and the Grand Maester had no certainty to what he said, only conjecture. Alicent knew that Elaena had sent an exhaustive treatise, but much of it was couched in terms of 'if the disease does this' and 'but if the symptoms show that' and the Maesters had doubted it was of much use. Alicent thought them fools, her daughter in all but flesh was someone she trusted more than all the Maesters in the Citadel.

It was selfish, but she wished Elaena were here. Her presence was always a soothing balm to both herself and her husband. As Viserys groaned and shivered and the cool ice melted, Alicent sent yet another prayer to the Mother for her mercy.

***

​

Viserys Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men lay dying. The fever wracked his body with shivering cold. He would give almost anything to feel warm again. The Stranger loomed. He knew it did, for he had felt death once before. When the mighty Balerion breathed his last, Viserys had felt the touch of the grave. That same presence was here now.


He was not a man who had often thought to himself about what happened after death. Viserys thought often about how he would be remembered, the legacy he would leave, and the future of his family. But on a personal level, his mind had shied away from it.

The septons claimed that those who had lived good lives would enjoy an afterlife of sweet surcease, and sung often of voyaging to a far sweet land of light, honey, and feasting. Where all would be judged justly by the Father until the end of days. The idea of seeing those who had gone before him again in a place of eternal joy and peace was a delightful notion.

Like Aemma.

Viserys, however, had not been one to listen overmuch to the septons. He often found their pontification tedious and did not feel they held any special wisdom.

Death was not something he enjoyed speaking of and could only recall a handful of times he had done so with others. The High Septon had words of comfort when his wife had died, but they had done little for him at the time.

He had no desire to die. Not when there was so much left undone. His diorama had continued to expand beautifully and he had several other additions he wanted to pursue. His grandchildren were marrying now, and having great-grandchildren would be wonderful. Viserys had the love of his brother, his second wife, his children, grandchildren, and wonderful friends like Otto. There were few men, and fewer Kings, who could boast of having so many close connections.

Each of his nine children was precious to him. Elaena may have been his second-born, but his heart knew in simple truth that she was his favorite. Unlike Rhaenyra, she had never caused his heart so much trouble. A more dutiful daughter, no father could ask for. But she was so much more. Lyman had freely credited her with the extent of the progress the Seven Kingdoms had made, of their expanding influence around the world, her involvement ever able to quiet the usual discord and hectoring of his small council.

The cities of Essos were starting to fall behind the wonders of her Silvervale. Crops were more plentiful, tools were hardier and easier to make, glass gardens and ingenious new ways to protect the substance of the land from the chill of the earth were now being put to the test and were not found wanting. All the roads, the ships, the ports, the bridges, the suppression of bandits and pirates... the realm had grown and her contributions lay at the heart of it.

He hated that his last letter to her had been so terse, but she had obeyed him in not going to White Harbor, only then had chosen to go to Bronzegate when the disease had spread there. Lord Buckler had sent word to Viserys and the Gods had seen fit to spare him, no doubt for his display of loyalty to the King. He had worked with Otto to draft it and ensure that Elaena was commanded to return to Silvervale, and told directly to stay there until the dreaded disease was no longer an issue. His daughter was canny and sharp-witted in all her dealings; she could find ways to do as she willed when she truly wished it, while still following the very letter of his commands, so he needed to be certain she stayed put and most of all safe.

If she knew he too had fallen ill with the dreaded sickness, she would come to him. By the gods he knew in his bones that she would have tried to come, her love for her father and her caring nature compelling her to act. But Viserys would rather die than risk her.

Viserys loved Elaena best, but he loved the others too. Rhaenyra, difficult Rhaenyra. She taxed his patience, but her headlong embrace of life was a sight to see. The love she bore him and her children was easy to see. She managed to tame the raging Dark Storm and kept a lid on his inhuman wrath with an aplomb that made it seem as if she did nothing at all. He worried sometimes of her rule after he passed, but if she could manage someone like Laenor Valeryon, then the Seven Kingdoms would be easy enough.

Aegon was a fine young man. He and Helaena reminded him of himself and Aemma. The gentleness between them always soothed his heart, and their children were a delight. Aegon rode the most beautiful dragon in all the realm, and his cordial and well-thought, if infrequent, counsel when he attended the Small Council sessions filled Viserys with pride.

Aemond was as wild as Daemon. The boy was rash, but what a warrior! He was covering himself in glory as a dragonrider beset with a fury towards the despicable barbarians of the east. Some thought it beneath a prince, but Viserys thought he just needed to settle his wild oats. Fight some wars, bed some women, further a worthy cause, and return steadier, less quick to unsettle those around him.

Daenora was now safely wed and had been a beautiful bride. Joy and laughter were ever her way. Uthor had been such a serious child and was now a guest in Dorne, betrothed and a key tie to continual peace. He had been quite earnest in promising that peace would last so long as he drew breath. He reminded Viserys much of Aegon's seriousness.

Little Baelon was not so little any longer. It was with some regret that Viserys had not spent much time with the lad. He was doing well in the yard according to Ser Criston, and would one day make a fine knight.

Breathing was becoming difficult now. His thoughts lingered on his grandchildren but briefly before he let out a moan and a wheeze. It was not going to be long now. He hoped Alicent would survive. She had not left his side until recently when her own condition rapidly deteriorated. She could never be his Aemma, but she had been a fine Queen for the realm.

Yes, Viserys wished to live. But it was his time, and as he thought back on his life, he was content. He had kept the peace in spite of the best efforts of others. One did not get to choose one's moniker after they had passed, but if he was not known for being Viserys the Peaceful, he would be known as Viserys the Prosperous, and that was more than acceptable. In his life he had raised nine children, who had in turn given rise to nine grandchildren themselves. And more almost certainly on the way.

The pain was receding as his breath grew wispier. His final thoughts were ones of peace. During his reign he had secured the Seven Kingdoms for generations to come. The power and wealth of the House of the Dragon had reached new heights, and the succession was secure. He had been a gift to the Realms of Men. That was enough, and the last thought of Viserys Targaryen, who died with a serene expression on his visage.

***

​

The King was dead, but Ser Criston had his orders. That was why he had even been sent into the den of sickness. The Seven must have favored him, for he had not fallen ill despite the dishonor of his actions. What greater proof could be had than his vitality against such a potent scourge? The Seven could not abide the thought of the great whore upon the Iron Throne, and so moved their hand to safeguard those who would act.


It was necessary for none to know the King had passed for as long as possible. The Hand's grand plan needed time for the concurrent strikes to take place in the Vale, Tyrosh, Dragonstone, Driftmark, and even other locations that Larys had hinted at. Aegon would make a great King, precisely because he would never be party to such vile actions. Once they were completed, there could be no choice, but forward.

I pray that the Queen survives her battle with the Stranger. The Queen Mother will be able to temper Aegon's fury at the murder of dragonriders and dragons.

Criston's sole command was to ensure that word of the King's passing would not leave Maegor's Holdfast. Afterwards, he would need to secure the Red Keep itself against any of the lords who might prove treacherous against Aegon.

While he did not know the details, he knew that the most important ones would be Dragonstone and Tyrosh. Criston also knew that there were no certainties. If Otto's assassins and Aemond failed utterly, there would be no Green victory. All hinged on knives in the dark and the Bronze Fury.

May the Warrior guide their hands and end the specter of a bastard upon the Iron Throne!

Author's Note: Let the dance begin!

Also plugging my Patreon where you can get Early Access to my new Stories: A Young Warg's Game of Thrones and Tanya/Halo - Yes the title is still pending, hah

https://www.patreon.com/cw/failninjaninja

Transitioning to writing as a fulltime career has been a journey, and I really want to say thank you to all those who pushed me in that direction! Also big thank you to everyone who engages with my stories! The commenters, the artists, the omake writers, the POV count tracking etc. All of y'all really make this come to life!!

 

[Aeden Emrys]

And so it begins !

Thanks for another great chapter !
I can't wait to see what happens next!
When's the next chapter !?

 

[MaeHartchenko]

Noooooooo. Elaena is caught flat-footed after all. :O

 

[bruhdude]

Peak. The (dark) Storm is coming