The Prince of Scrolls [ASOIAF / Game of Thrones AU]

[Walder Black]

Ros was sitting, drinking tea. The prince's new mansion was quite comfortable. By order of the princess, they even gave Ros a room.

"You're back quickly," said the prince.

"Your mother helped sell it," she said, taking a sip as she spoke.

"Our mother helped?" Dany imagined their mother in a market.

It would be absurd to see the Queen Mother selling trinkets. The princess wanted to picture her mother selling her jewelry.

Queen Rhaella would not sell her crown for anything in the world. (\*)

"Somehow she managed to find out I was coming to King's Landing. Oh! I must say that your new ships caused quite a sensation among the inhabitants." She paused to enjoy her drink. "Small enough to navigate the river and large enough to transport goods. I was offered a thousand golden dragons for one of them." She waited for his reaction.

"I was expecting around six or seven hundred," said the prince. "But you missed the point," he urged her to continue.

"Ah, yes. The queen received me. She tried the perfumes and bought several oils and soaps for herself." She smiled. "I sold everything the day I arrived. The next day, I had merchants asking me where I got everything. I just said 'ArgentStone,'" she said, looking as if she had done something mischievous.

Jaehaerys thought the buyers would arrive soon. The perfumes were in the Tower of Dread, where they used to live. It was the closest to the gates. It would make it easier to sell them.

"How much did you get for each product?" asked Daenerys. The girl had taken out a small notebook, probably following Qyburn's advice.

"Eighty dragons for each perfume," she said with a huge smile. "The queen bought it for forty, but the nobles want to be like her, right?" Rhaella's purchase had brought not only customers but also prestige.

It might be junk, but if the highest royalty purchased it, everyone else wanted it too. The rest of the products were also inflated in price. Each bar of scented soap sold for four gold dragons.

The oils were ten gold dragons, and the shampoo, an unknown commodity, was twenty gold dragons per bottle. Absurdly high prices that would decrease over time.

"Six thousand, one hundred and ten galleons, right?" asked Dany. "One hundred perfumes, one thousand soap bars, fifty oils, and two hundred bottles of shampoo." She tapped her pen on the paper.

"It was six and ten thousand. The queen bought everything cheaper. Suppose you take away the sailors' wages. I gave each sailor sixty silver deer. That would be ten dragons less," said the redhead, taking the last sip of tea and placing the cup and saucer on a small table.

"Good work." Dany smiled at her.

Jaehaerys quickly did the math. He had 820 perfumes in stock. About 5000 soap bars. 237 oils and 310 shampoos. He had focused on producing perfumes, so he had most of those.

Now he considered it a mistake. Perfumes are expensive, and only nobles buy them.

And not all noble houses can afford forty gold dragons. That was the price he estimated for when the initial boom was over. He could sell in Essos, but until his fleet of ships was ready, he would have to rely on Lord Manderly for that or sell to merchants. With any luck, some merchant would buy all the perfumes for eighty dragons and disappear with them.

Soaps, oils, and shampoos are consumed more quickly. Therefore, they would sell better. The first factories he would set up would be for those products, and he already had some apprentices: former slaves.

He ordered a building to be constructed near his mansion. It was nothing big or extravagant; it would have the basics. Divided into sections for each of the products to be created, it would be made of standard brick, not the magical kind used for the castle. He would have to tear down the building later; if it were made of indestructible brick, he would have some problems.

He felt Daenerys' warm hand take his cheek.

"Ros has left. She got tired of you ignoring her," she said, getting up. A maid entered the room to collect the empty cups and then left. "I wanted to talk to you about something," she said, gesturing for him to follow her.

"Very well," he said, accompanying her to their new quarters. In this mansion, the room was not large enough to also accommodate a desk, so his work area was limited to his solar room. It was connected to the bedroom by a door.

"Here." She pointed to a brazier. The flames licked the prince's three eggs. No one entered her chambers; a loyal guard stood watch at the door, preventing any maids from passing. The door had a rudimentary key that only Dany and Jaehaerys carried. "Touch them," she said.

He felt his heart skip a beat when he saw her hand approach the flames. She didn't touch them directly; instead, she took the eggs, one by one, and passed them to Jaehaerys.

"They're beating, like a heart," he said in surprise. He wondered if the magic of the weirwoods had accelerated the process.

The fire in the embers seemed abnormal, as if it wanted to reach his body, burn him.

"They're alive," she said, holding the black egg.

"They seem close to hatching," he replied. He gazed spellbound at the dark line on the silver egg as he ran his hand over it. "What do the books say?" He had left all that work to Daenerys, thinking he could review it later. He hadn't expected them to revive so quickly.

He felt an unprecedented emotion. 'Dragons.' He was not a man given to war or armed conflict. But a dragon would keep all the people away from his business. But dragons weren't enough. He had to be firm with those he let into his home. He didn't want a new Otto Hightower whispering to his children.

He forced himself to calm down. He left the two eggs on the fire and turned to his wife.

"There is a ritual. But I don't like it. There has to be a sacrifice," she said.

"Human?" asked Jaehaerys.

"I... it didn't specify, it just said 'Nykeā glaeson syt nykeā glaeson.'" Her voice became hoarse when she spoke Valyrian, a sound that Jaehaerys enjoyed immensely.

"A life for a life," he repeated, translating the High Valyrian. "It can be an animal," he said. The Valyrians were not good sorcerers; they were rather crude. They could not use magic effectively and resorted to mass sacrifices to complete their spells.

"They need to be burned. A huge pyre. Another said with magic fire, but I don't want to put the eggs in Valyrian fire. I don't want another Summerhall." The princess's hands caressed the egg so lovingly that Jaehaerys became jealous.

"Magic fire." He opened the door to his solar. He took the book of runes and began to leaf through it. He found the rune he was looking for.

Kenaz (ᚲ) was the rune of fire; well, fire was one of its meanings. He planned to use it in the forges, but he needed to hide the magic, and so far, he hadn't thought of anything. He would have to wait until he built better furnaces.

"Runes. They're from the First Men, not Valyrian," she said doubtfully.

"It's magic," he said. "Tell me, Dany. When did they start to feel more alive?" he asked her. The flames moved abruptly. The fire made him uneasy. No, it wasn't the fire, it was something else, but what exactly?

"When the curse was lifted," she replied. "I remember that during the curse, they felt bad, like they were sick," she said sadly. "That was when you planted the weirwood tree. Yes," she said, convinced. "When shall we do it?" she asked, looking anxious.

Jaehaerys hesitated. He had about six hundred men-at-arms at Harrenhal. He could be sure of the loyalty of five hundred of those men, the ones who had followed him from the north. He needed more protection. In the long run, the dragons would scare away all his rivals, but small ones would be targets.

He looked at the fire. The flames danced, lulling the eggs in a delicate embrace. He couldn't look away.

'What if I wait until the castle is comple-'

His thoughts suddenly died. He fell into a trance. He searched among the drawers in his study. A small jar with a brush. He took the eggs from the brazier and used them as a canvas.

"Jae?" It was a distant echo.

Before, he drew the runes with mastery, but they had never been so perfect as in that moment. The red ink covered the eggs. The rune Kenaz was inscribed next to Jera (ᛃ), a rune that meant natural growth, among other things.

He destroyed his shirt in one swift movement. He felt his hand forced to write Othala (ᛟ) on his chest. It was the rune that indicated sacrifice, offering.

Whose hand was guiding his?

'I've lived this before,' he said in his mind.

He closed his eyes and was no longer in the room. He was outside the mansion, looking down on everything from the sky. He recognized this feeling.

Warging.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

He dove toward the window of his room. He looked at his own naked body from the waist up. Dany looked like she was about to cry as the flames burned more and more intensely. The feeling was strange but strangely familiar. The body wasn't his, but he understood it perfectly.

With the body of his eagle, he descended and dug his claws into his human chest, right above the sacrifice rune. As if it were his hand, he closed his claws. The three front claws closed together, forming three lines that converged at the same point. He had to move away to dodge the blow his body unleashed.

He looked proudly at the three red lines. But one was missing. The heat in the room became unbearable. He hoped the eagle would get scared and fight back. But it lunged again. He had never felt so bad about having such a strong body. He barely managed to dodge it. He looked at Dany. The girl had brought her hand close to his chest, her index finger touching the nail where the three wounds left by the eagle's claws met. His body did not react to her touch; he just stared at the fire. But he could see his hands trembling.

Whatever was taking his body didn't want to hurt her.

Daenerys dug her fingernail in and, with a single scratch, made the last line. A primal rune ᛉ was engraved on his chest in blood. The whole rune glowed a dark red, so similar to the sap of the arcians that he could have mistaken it for it.

The eagle flew out the window, and seconds later, it watched the flames consume the entire room. But he no longer shared its eyes. The last thing he remembered seeing through the eagle's eyes was a red star splitting the sky.

He returned to his body with a jolt. He felt heavier, and his chest was on fire. With a quick movement, he kicked the book of runes, which had fallen to the floor during the possession. The book slid to the door leading to the makeshift courtyard.

The walls were brick; they wouldn't burn, but he didn't trust them not to melt. He looked at his wife, the flames dancing on her naked skin, avoiding burning her.

'Unburned,' he thought.

She would be fine. He took the jar of sap and, smearing it on his fingers, began to inscribe the wall and door with the runes Tyr and Elhaz. He wanted to protect his solar room and everything found within it.

He had seen magic before. But now he felt it. He felt the wall harden.

Finally, the fire melted the clay jar in his hand. The red liquid dripped onto the floor.

He felt Daenerys' embrace. Inside the fire, it was somehow cold. The princess's hair burned. She moved a few inches away from him.

It was a crazy sight if anyone could see them. Both of them were in the flames, the flames just touching their skin without causing them harm and dancing around them.

He had been burned before. Once, as a child, he touched a red-hot piece of coal. He cried in pain, but he healed without any scars.

This?

What was this?

Magic.

His wife looked beautiful. Her skin contrasted with the fire in a way that made her look like a fire goddess; her purple eyes glowed unnaturally, her pink lips were moist, unaltered by the flames.

Had she always been this beautiful? Was it the fire around her that made her so desirable? Their clothes had been consumed, and only their naked bodies were visible.

The furniture in the room was burning, and toxic smoke began to billow from it. But they were unaffected. It wasn't logical, but when had magic ever been logical?

It was impulse or desire, a mixture of both. He should have taken his wife and left the fire, but no, there was something he had to do there.

They approached each other, dazed by the reflection of the other.

It began with a kiss and ended with them joined together, just as they had been on their first night, and many others that followed. They were husband and wife: a man and a woman.

They were two dragons mating.

With no bed or furniture, he ended up taking her on the wooden floor. Even when the wood charred, they felt no pain, only the ash breaking under their weight.

Ros, Sansa, none of them had ever made him feel so good. Even when he had both of them at the same time, it was nothing compared to this. It wasn't just physical pleasure; it was something more spiritual. He could feel the magic around them vibrate with joy every time their climax were in sync. Their passion fueled the flames.

He split his seed inside her three times.

After the third time, the flames vibrated like never before; the wood on the floor was gone, and the walls looked as if they had been victims of dragon fire.

In a way, they had been.

Then, as she curled up on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, they heard them. Soft crackling sounds. Then moans, like an animal fighting.

They both felt claws climbing up their bodies, but neither moved. Their bodies remained entwined, their souls repeating the action. The peace among the flames was something they had never experienced before. They had never felt so at home as they did at that moment.

How much time had passed? Minutes, hours, days? There was no time when they made love, only him, her, and the magic.

He looked at a crowd of men near where the door should have been; the flames had melted the brick. They were brave men, but not stupid. The fire died down, and the men were finally able to approach. Jaeherys was forced to pull out of her and noticed that there was no trace of his seed between the princess's legs.

'Three dragons,' he thought. 'One life for a life... three.'

The fire took his seed three times.

With that last thought, he used his body to cover his wife's modesty. Even if the men were loyal, the princess's body was not for their eyes to feast on. He looked to his right. The wall and the door to his quarters were intact, only darkened by the smoke.

Torrhen handed him a cloak, which he used to cover her and the dragons.

'Dragons.' Just a few hours ago, they were talking about trade, and now they had brought dragons out of the stone. He looked at his wife, and when the flames subsided, her body was covered in ash.

He heard the murmurs of the men as the dragons climbed out from under the cloak. The three eggs had given birth to three majestic dragons.

The first was jet black. When the sun touched its scales, they shone a dark purple, like obsidian. It had two horns where the purple color was most evident. Its eyes were like molten silver.

The second was an auburn color. Two small protuberances adorned its head. He watched as the color changed on its horns, revealing a steel gray. Its eyes were green like emeralds.

The third was silver. Jaehaerys remembered Daenerys' hair just by looking at it. Its horns darkened slightly; they weren't two; he counted eight, even if they weren't that much larger than those the other two dragons had. Jaehaerys thought they assembled a crown. Its eyes were black with red veins like two burning coals.

They were just as they were described in the books.

Elongated and with two hind legs. Their wings were membranous, similar to those of bats. Their necks were elongated. Despite having the same characteristics, they were not identical.

The black one was the widest and had the thickest wings of the three, and was shorter than the red one. It also seemed temperamental, like an angry old man who was annoyed by the sun beating down on his body.

It blew smoke from its jaws as it looked at the crowd around him, as if they were unworthy of his presence.

The red one was the thinnest and longest, although its small size made it unremarkable. Its wings were also the smallest of the three. It seemed frightened, and as soon as it saw the people, it returned to Dany's cloak.

The silver one had the largest wings. Its body was not as vast as the red one's, nor as long as the black one's. It looked Jaehaerys straight in the eye, without a hint of fear. The prince even felt it smile at him. The dragon looked at the men and moved from Dany's body to Jaehaerys's so it could see them. It seemed curious about these beings.

"My prince," said the men around him. The northerners and southerners knelt before him.

"Hail Jaehaerys Targaryen," said Torrhen.

"Hail Daenerys Targaryen," said Brandon.

"The ones who bring the Dragons back," said a southerner with unbridled devotion.

He touched his chest. The Elhaz-shaped scar was now a few thick red lines. It hadn't healed like a normal scar; no, magic pulsed through it, close to his heart. Thinking about the god who had tried to kill him filled him with hatred.

'The dragons are back. But I'm still alive, and that must piss you off, R'hllor,' he thought with satisfaction. He could feel something new in his body. Maybe the fire resistance was permanent for him.

Then he thought sarcastically, 'I wanted to industrialize this world, and now I have to fight a god.'

Jaehaerys didn't think he could simply use his staff to kill a god in a fight.

He would kill him, as many gods had died before in his previous life.

By making the people lose faith in them.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

For four moons, everything went well. The foundations of the three main towers were ready, deep and wide. The bricks were prepared for laying. Now the only limitation was the mortar. A gallon of sap mixed into the mortar allowed it to be diluted enough to lay twenty thousand bricks. In those four moons, he obtained another six barrels, for a total of eight. Seven would be used in construction, and the rest would be for research.

Now the problem was volcanic ash. He obtained several tons of Dragonstone. At first, he began a constant supply trip, but it stopped two weeks after the dragons were born.

Viserys also stopped responding to his letters. He sent two letters to King's Landing, one to the king and the other to his mother. They said that obtaining the ash was, for the moment, not possible. It was as if his older brother wanted to hinder the construction process. He had managed to get them to start working with the available volcanic ash, but it ran out during the previous moon.

He sent letters to Jon Arryn, the guardian of the Vale. The man had somehow managed to keep his position, a controversial decision, although his heir, a young man named Hardyng, was being raised at Casterly Rock with Tywin Lannister.

In Arryn's letters, he inquired about inactive volcanoes in his lands and requested the trade of volcanic ash. The old man replied that he would consult his oldest maps, but did not expect to find any.

He would have gone to King's Landing, but the idea of leaving Dany alone pained him. Not only because the administration would fall more heavily on her, but because if anyone discovered the dragons, he would have to act quickly. So he sent Torrhen. He was not a politician, but he was much more talkative than Brandon. He went on a Drakkar and returned shortly after. The king refused to see him. His mother allowed him a conversation, but she did not say much about Dragonstone, only that it was not possible to extract the ashes at the moment.

They put him off again and again. Ever since they offered him Harrenhal, he knew it was a poisoned gift, but he accepted it gladly. He knew he could turn it into something extraordinary. And step by step, he was succeeding. If his brother hadn't meddled, everything would have been better.

The idea that it was Rhaegar who ordered his murder was growing stronger.

Even the village on the banks of the river began to grow. Previously, there had been several fishing villages, but they merged to form a city. He had allowed the fishermen to use the Drakkars for fishing, not their best use, but as long as they weren't traveling to King's Landing, it was better to use them for something.

The town was more bustling and lively. Several merchants had arrived to buy the prince's products. He couldn't accommodate them in Harrenhal, so they stayed in the village. It was the representative he left in the town, Edric, who gave him the idea of building more inns. He financed the construction with loans and allowed the villagers to manage them. They would repay the gold by paying higher taxes until the debt was fully covered.

He could have given the gold away, but he didn't want his people to become lazy. Nor did he want to manage each of the inns.

The merchants brought more people with them, and in four moons, more than three thousand people migrated. Some of them were skilled craftsmen, such as carpenters and potters. The former found work in the shipyards, and the latter requested to purchase clay for their work. The prince offered to buy them some vases and plates to give them some initial work and a little recognition.

Little by little, the city offered more. Some merchants even asked to buy a piece of land. He refused, but offered to build warehouses and rent them out. He planned to create a market in the future when the city grew larger.

This market would be built near the castle. The town was quite close to Harrenhal, and his idea was to let it grow around the castle, surrounding it, with a space of half a league between the town and the castle walls. Every two weeks, the city filled a ship with goods, and small merchants bought the products to resell them in King's Landing. Those taxes would not bring him much profit in the short term, but they would help the town grow gradually. At least Rhaegar had not interfered with his trade.

He could not say the same for the religion of R'hllor. His business in Essos was extinct thanks to them. He no longer generated income in Essos and had lost nearly a hundred thousand gold dragons. Of the 500 Unsullied he had in Essos, 200 died, and the rest returned, ashamed. They brought back a group of 600 slaves.

He knew he had to deal with R'hllor, but he wasn't ready to fight against an entire religion just yet.

He needed to know more about R'hllor. Was he a god or a demon? His presence was limited in this world. He had ordered Elhaz runes to be carved into the walls. These offered protection, not only physical but also against higher beings. He did not want R'hllor to reach his door.

He also carved runes on stones that he hid around the weirwoods.

He used the runes Kano (ᚲ), which represented fire and would attract it. Isa (ᛁ), which represented ice, would serve to contain and stabilize the fire. Perth (ᛈ) meant rebirth, and its function was to transform that energy into something else, into magic.

He wanted to add the runes Eiwaz (ᛇ), which would help integrate the energy into the tree, and Fehu (ᚠ), which would turn that energy into prosperity, helping the tree to grow. Kano (ᚲ) was also associated with light, and sunlight was absorbed as a source of energy. The dilemma was whether or not to carve the tree. The books said nothing about the consequences of such an action. He didn't want to offend the old gods.

The previous runes were created with a specific intention in mind. A single rune can have several meanings, but it was the intention behind inscribing it that made it work. That is why inscribing protective runes on bricks was easy, because even if only slightly, during their creation, the intention was to create something resistant.

Jaehaerys stood on the walls of Harrenhal, his wife at his side. A silk scarf covered Dany's hair. The fire had left both of them bald, and she was sad to have her hair short, as it was just beginning to grow.

The last few months had been turbulent. And that turbulence was about to increase.

His wife was now helping to manage all the construction. She began by repairing the mansion. In the mansion, she ordered the installation of pipes to distribute water to bathrooms and kitchens. The mansion lacked them, partly because Jaehaerys had already planned to leave that task to her as preparation.

She did a good job, ordering a water storage tank to be built on the roof and the pipes to be laid. Dany made sure that the structure could support the weight of the water and had to order the creation of pillars to reinforce it.

For the pipes, Jaehaerys had to intervene himself to talk to the blacksmiths and explain precisely what he wanted, the plans he had drawn up, and the processes involved. At that moment, he missed Mikken, the blacksmith from Winterfell. He would have stolen him if he could, but he was too loyal to Stark.

They both watched the black banner approach their city. The three-headed dragon was visible. It arrived without warning, probably wanting to take them by surprise. And it partially did. He had recently ordered Ros to create a network of spies; the girl was good at reading people. She had begun to approach merchants, even financing some of them. She managed to obtain information from some, but she was limited by distance. Between Harrenhal and King's Landing, there was only a seven-day distance; it could be 14 if it were a vast army.

Rhaegar traveled light; they were all horsemen. In the distance, he couldn't see how many Targaryens there were, but it should have been all of them, except Viserys and Daemon, of course.

"We must prepare to receive them," he heard Daenerys say beside him.

For moons, they had kept the dragons inside their mansion, and then, when they became too large, they sent them to the Godswood and forbade anyone from entering. He even chained them to prevent them from flying away. They melted the chains even though the iron was inscribed with runes to improve its strength.

'Dragon fire can break runes,' he theorized.

Now all of Harrenhal had seen the dragons soar through the air, so it was no surprise to see the king heading there, but he reacted too soon. Rhaegar was obsessed with the three-headed dragon.

"They're a small group, at least we won't have much trouble housing them," she said, more frightened than she wanted to show.

She considered the dragons their children, and Jaehaerys was sure that in some way they were.

"The dragons will be safe, won't they?" she asked, frowning.

"Yes. If Rhaegar brought Visenya, they would be." Jaehaerys wondered if his brother would dare to kill him. There were 600 men at Harrenhal who were his army. 100 kept order in the city, and the rest kept order in the castle.

"She's too young for this." Daenerys was a little apprehensive about his plan.

"She won't suffer, besides, she'll make a good lady companion." He smiled, knowing that the little girl would be chaos.

His first plan was to send the dragons to the Isle of Faces. But the island had not called him, and when he tried to approach it on the raft, the water pushed him away. The island did not want visitors. Perhaps because the old gods had ruled it, and dragons were believed to belong to the Valyrian gods. Dragons were beings that no one could dominate; he could not send them away without expecting them to become wild dragons, like the cannibal.

"I hope everything goes well," whispered Daenerys.

"Well, if it goes wrong and I die..." 'You could marry Daemon,' he wanted to add in a sour humor.

He often employed a black sense of humor when he was nervous.

"I'll burn Westeros," the princess interrupted him and walked away, Brandon following her like his faithful shadow.

"You're smiling, my prince," he heard Torrhen say.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Rhaegar wore black armor on his body. On his chest, the three-headed dragon glowed with rubies. A red cape hung from his body. He rode a brown steed with a white chest.

His procession was about thirty men. He dismounted with ease. One by one, his men got off their horses.

"Your Grace. ArgentStone is yours," greeted the prince, standing. Because of his status as a prince, he was not required to kneel before the king. He offered them bread and salt, granting them guest rights. However, it was only for the king and the royal family.

It was customary that those men under the command of the one who ate the bread and salt were protected, although for the gods, those who did not eat bread and salt had no guest rights.

"You honor me, brother," the king said with a warm smile. But it did not reach his eyes.

Next to his brother were his children, Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya. The youngest rode with her mother, Lyanna. Rhaella had also ridden, which surprised him. Queen Elia was nowhere to be seen. She was known for her fragile health and would not have been able to keep up on a fast journey. Ser Arthur, Ser Barristan, Ser Gwayne Corbray, and Ser Loras Tyrell accompanied them.

Another unknown knight wore the white cloak. According to Jaehaerys, he was a new member, Ser Balon Swann. Loras had also recently received the white cloak, a favor to House Tyrell after Viserys' fiasco.

Tyrell's gaze at Jaehaerys made Daenerys a little jealous.

"I must say I did not expect your visit. Even if ArgentStone is under construction for now, ravens still arrive," said the prince.

"The king needs no invitation," said a woman with copper-colored hair. She was gorgeous and wore a necklace with a red gemstone. "The Lord of Light guides his way."

"The Lord of Light will not prepare your rooms or cook a welcome feast," said Daenerys, looking at the red woman suspiciously.

They had met before. Melisandre had shown her in the flames. In them, she saw herself devouring the heart of a horse, and she said it was her destiny. Dany had only seven name days, and she had feared her ever since.

The redhead looked directly at her, her red eyes seeming to see right through her. It made Dany extremely uncomfortable, but her purple eyes remained steady.

"Enough. My men are tired; we'll hurry on the last league of the journey," said the king, stopping the staring contest.

"We have prepared rooms for you and the royal family," said Daenerys. They had assigned the tower they had previously lived in, one of the two that had not been demolished. It was the only one available, as Lady Whent occupied the other. The products had been moved to a vault near the mansion. "There will be a banquet later, in the Hall of a Hundred Hearths," she added at the end.

No one mentioned the cloth over her hair. They probably knew how she had lost her hair. And Rhaegar did not seem eager to see the dragons, but he appeared kinder than when he had met Jaehaerys in King's Landing.

"It would be great to rest before the banquet. But I've spent so much time without seeing them that I'll leave the rest for later," said Queen Rhaella. "Instead, I'd like to tour Harrenhal. Oh, it's ArgentStone now, isn't it?" she corrected herself halfway through. "It's been almost twenty years since I was last here. At the tournament," she said no more.

The tournament was a subject of great displeasure for Rhaegar.

"That would be lovely, Grandmother," said Rhaenys, her eyes never leaving Jaehaerys.

"If that is your wish," said the lord of ArgentStone, looking at his brother. "I will show you your rooms so you can change into more comfortable clothes," he said, looking at their riding clothes.

"I'll ask for a tour later. Show me my quarters," said the king. The hosts led them to the tower where the royal family would be staying.

Aegon accompanied his father, saying goodbye after a friendly exchange. Lyanna seemed to want to rest, but Visenya, in her arms, wanted to see the castle.

The queen looked sad when she saw the castle, remembering the place where she had been crowned Queen of Love and Beauty, where the tragedy had begun.

After the women had changed, they began a tour.

The small group was flanked by Ser Barristan and Ser Loras, as well as Brandon, Torrhen, and three other knights of the king. The others followed the king and the heir.

"I never imagined you riding a horse, Mother. I thought you would travel in a carriage," Jaehaerys began the conversation as they walked.

"I learned when I was young. Although I'm not used to it. I've only been riding for the last two days. Rhaegar ordered us to hurry, and I didn't want to be left behind," replied his mother. "Every time I see those towers, I get light-headed," she commented as they passed between the Tower of Dread and the Wailing Tower.

"They've already torn down three towers?" Rhaenys seemed surprised. "Will you use the stone to rebuild them?" she asked as she watched the men carry the stone.

"They'll be used for foundations and to expand the outer walls," he said.

"Expand?" Queen Lyanna asked. "More?" She seemed incredulous.

"Yes, more. ArgentStone will be bigger than Harrenhal," the prince declared.

They walked between the foundations and reached the two central towers. They had barely built fifty feet of them before stopping due to a lack of mortar. Magic vibrated in them. Others couldn't feel it, but he could. Ever since R'hllor entered his body, he had been more sensitive to magic.

"Why make it so big? You won't need so much space," Rhaella asked.

"You'll find out later." He had begun to hate the way his mother doubted every one of his projects.

"Is it because of your short sword?" said a child's voice.

"Visenya!" Lyanna looked embarrassed, but Jaehaerys watched her fight back a smile. In the books, she was described as wild and untamable, but from what little he knew of her, she was a miserable existence. She only seemed happy around her children.

If he had caused a war and the deaths of his father and brother, he would feel bad too. Perhaps not for Aerys, his father. Nor for Rhaegar, if he was to blame for trying to kill him.

"I once heard a guard say he wanted a castle that touched the clouds. Another said it was to make up for his short sword," the girl said quickly, her cheeks flushing. "But he doesn't use a sword," she added, frowning. "Where's your staff? Can I see it?" Jaehaerys expected a little resentment because of her brother, but found none in her. Or maybe she was just good at throwing barbs.

"Visenya!" Lyanna scolded her again. "I'm sorry, Prince," she apologized to him.

"You can see it later," he replied, not offended. "You'd get along well with Arya," he commented lightly.

Lyanna opened her eyes wide but said nothing.

"Who is that?" The little princess did not react well.

"Your cousin, Lord Stark's daughter. She has wolf blood, like you," he replied tenderly.

"Wolf, look at me, I'm a dragon." She pointed to her purple eyes and hair, more specifically, the silver parts.

"And a wolf. Like your mother." Lyanna seemed hurt by that, but said nothing.

Everyone fell silent at those words. Visenya didn't like being called a wolf. The lords mentioned it in a derogatory way, although they thought she couldn't hear them. The girl sulked at her mother. She tried to remain silent.

"That tree is a weirwood." Her previous anger was replaced by curiosity.

"I didn't know you worshipped the old gods, Jae," Rhaenys commented, looking at the tree in the distance.

"I grew up in the north. And I brought a lot of it with me to the south." He glanced sideways at the Snow twins.

"The Targaryens have followed the Seven for years," said her mother, looking at the tree with disgust.

"And as long as the king continues to believe in them, there will be no problems," Daenerys interjected this time. "We don't want to burn septs or discredit the Seven," she added at the end.

The old tree grew enormous. Its highest point must have been fifty feet. It stopped growing upward quickly when it reached forty feet. But its branches spread out wide, casting shade thirty feet from the trunk. And they only grew longer and more leafy with time. Its trunk was wider than any he had ever seen, except for the one on the Isle of Faces and the one in Winterfell.

"You don't know how the Faith will see it." Rhaella seemed to want them as followers of the Seven because of their appearance.

"I don't care, nor have we publicly stated which gods we support," the prince said sharply. "The old gods have helped me more than the Seven. They gave me that weirwood." The Faith was not predominant in his castle. Even those who came from the Flea Bottom inns began to worship the old gods.

Harren's curse left a deep mark.

"Ha, that nonsense about the curse?" her mother retorted, although when she received the news in the capital, she turned as white as fear could make her. "You can't expect me to believe---"

"Believe it or not, that tree will still be there," Daenerys said.

Rhaella appreciated seeing her once-shy daughter speaking like a strong, confident woman. But she didn't like being the recipient of those words.

She swallowed her complaints.

The rest of the tour was sour. The Queen Mother left when they were near the Tower of Dread. They ended the tour in the Godswood, where Lyanna wanted to see the other weirwood tree.

She had been disappointed because the other weirwood had no face carved into it.

"I'd like a moment to talk to you, alone, my prince," said Lyanna.

He looked at the sun; there were about three hours of daylight left.

"We still have time," he replied.

He watched his wife drag Visenya and Rhaenys away, Brandon accompanying her. Loras hesitated for a second, but the king's daughters were more important than his wife. Even more so if that wife was Lyanna. Two knights stayed close by, Torrhen with them.

They walked away until they could no longer hear them. Then Lyanna started talking.

"Don't give your dragons to Rhaegar." Her face remained unchanged, but he watched her neck tense with anger.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Chapter 35: Broken

He didn't know her reasons for saying that. So he decided to play it safe. The king could have sent her to test his mettle.

"My brother is the king," he said.

"He's mad." Her eyes looked at the weirwood's. The one in King's Landing had been cut down, and only the stump remained. "Mad, but not stupid. He knows he doesn't have absolute power; he learned that from his father." That hatred was mixed with a horrible terror.

"You speak of the king," he reminded her.

"Another mad king," she spat, composing herself in an instant, looking at the knights from afar. "You know what will happen if he gets a dragon?" she asked.

"The Targaryen dynasty will rule for years," he replied, not believing that his brother was an evil ruler. He was a terrible relative, yes; he may have been a bastard, but he managed to keep the Seven Kingdoms united---even the Iron Islands. Unlike in the canon, they did not rebel here.

That didn't mean Jaehaerys planned to give him the dragons.

"Westeros will burn," she corrected. "The witch at his side. She gossips in his ear. She asks him for sacrifices," she whispered. "He disagrees, not wholly. He fears the reaction of the lords. But some prisoners have disappeared, and my son, he..." Her voice broke.

"Daemon?" he asked, not so worried. But he couldn't tell a woman that he didn't care much if her son died.

"No. His name was Daeron. He was small, with dark hair and a long face. He was beautiful," she said.

He closed his eyes for a moment while remembering.

"I remember him. The news reached the North. He was stillborn," he said. It had saddened him when he heard the news in the North. "A year before Visenya."

"He wasn't stillborn. He was murdered at birth." She struggled not to sob. She looked up at the sky, preventing the tears from falling from her eyes.

"Murdered?" He knew her brother was no saint. He was mean, with a superiority complex. When he accused Viserys, he had hoped they would send him to the Wall. If what Lyanna said was true, Viserys would have died without his intervention.

"Burned alive. Right in front of me." Her eyes became distant as if she could see him right now. "He cried, oh, his lungs were so strong. The flames took him away. I look at his clothes burning, his skin melting." She shook her head and let out a dry laugh. "Rhaegar said it was necessary. Necessary to kill his own son."

"Why?" Jaehaerys had a guess: 'The blood of kings is powerful.'

"Rhaegar didn't need more sons," she whispered. A gust of wind hit them. "He needed a daughter. A Visenya. The red whore told him I wouldn't give him a boy, but he needed ice. So she told him if he sacrificed my son---" Her voice broke. "If he did it, R'hllor would give him his Visenya. And he would have his three conquerors."

Jaehaerys was silent. All her words seemed real; there was a hatred in her voice that was real. Genuine. She must be an incredible actress or a broken mother. He looked at the weirwood.

"I'm sorry." He remembered Stannis sacrificing his daughter. It was only mentioned in the TV show, but they said he might do it in the books as well. "R'hllor is not welcome at Harrenhal. I only allowed the red whore," he repeated the nickname she had given her, "to enter because she was accompanying the king."

"And you think she'll stay that way if my husband gets dragons?" she said. "No, he will melt your walls with fire if she has to. Maybe they'll sacrifice you, your wife, or your children," she said, feeling angry. But what she said was true. If Rhaegar killed his own son, what would stop him from killing his brother?

"You think if I intended to hand over the dragons, I would have kept them hidden for four moons?" he said. She said nothing, believing that he was the one who had warned the king.

"You didn't warn him," she said, opening her eyes.

"No. The dragons were seen. The king found out and came," he said.

"How do you plan to keep them out of his hands? I tried to poison him, you know?" she said. "It didn't work. One of the men died. But not the king. I know the king's cup contained poison. I added it myself," she confessed.

"How long ago was that?" asked the prince. "If you tried to murder the king, how are you still alive?"

"Yesterday." She laughed. "I know I'll die soon on my way to that shithole of King's Landing. Or once I get there." She didn't seem concerned about her death.

"Why don't you go North?" he asked. "A ship is leaving tomorrow from the small town. You could escape on it." He wouldn't risk his life for her, but he could arrange something that didn't involve him.

"I'm hated in the North. It was my kidnapping that started the war. So many deaths," she whispered. "The Stag Rebellion. They call it. It should be the War for Lyanna's Cunt," she joked. She was broken, he could tell.

"Kidnapping?" He ignored her joke. "Didn't you run away together?" His throat felt dry.

"No. He took me, tried to seduce me, and almost succeeded. If he were a single man, I would have been with him a thousand times," she commented without shame.

"Was it because of Elia that you didn't want him?"

"He was charming, you know? Almost as handsome as you." She looked at his face. "His face always looked melancholy. Sad. But over time, I learned it was just boredom." Her gray eyes were empty.

"So he---"

"He stole me. He often joked that wildings did that to get wives," she didn't seem amused at all. "He said I would feel more northern that way," she added.

"That's cruel." The information about the savages' traditions likely came from Aemon.

"It is," she nodded. "He locked me in a tower and made me carry his child. I refused, I begged him, but he wouldn't listen. I still remember the first time, so much blood, such intense pain," she lowered her head.

"I felt dirty, horrible, ugly. He didn't care about me. He left his seed inside me until I stopped having my moon blood," she turned her back on the knights who followed her. She began to sob slowly.

"My brother---" He didn't know what to say. Comfort her? Hug her? He wasn't good at those things.

"I wanted to resist, to fight. But how could I, at 14, fight against an adult and 3 knights?" It seemed that the title meant nothing to her. "Then I tried to kill myself," she licked her lips, the salty taste stopping her for a second. "He tied me to the bed, left my legs open. I was a toy for his use," her voice was bitter. "He let me go when he confirmed I was pregnant. He knew I wouldn't try to kill myself. Not with my child inside me."

"Daemon," was all he could say. He was speechless. "I'm sorry," he said, not knowing why he apologized; he hadn't hurt her.

"Then he made me tell everyone that we were in love. I remember Ned looking at me with those betrayed eyes." She felt bad reliving that moment. "If you want them to live, do it," she said, changing her voice. "That's what he told me," she nodded.

"And you carried the hatred of the North." His opinion of her was terrible, a maiden in love for whom thousands died.

"I did it and I would do it again. I love my brothers. I love my children. I should thank you for sending Daemon to the north. I don't know how long it would have taken for him to be sacrificed." She held his hands.

"If you die, Daemon could start a war if he finds out who killed you," he told her. He was afraid of that, actually.

"That's why I'll kill myself." She smiled. She seemed happy to long for death.

"Visenya will be an orphan," he said, and her expression changed completely. Daemon was already a grown man, but his youngest daughter was still a child.

"That doesn't change anything... she's strong, she always has been." She consoled herself.

"As strong as you have been," he said, and she collapsed.

He felt her tremble in his arms as he instinctively wrapped his arms around her. The queen wept. She shed tears for her eldest son, whom she would never see again. For her murdered son, whose eyes she had never even seen. For her youngest daughter, whom she would never see grow into a woman.


If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Jaehaerys looked at the two knights with a frown. He needed to kill them.

He granted the royal family guest rights. Only they ate bread and salt. Usually, this was extended to the entourage, but it was not a rule of the gods; it was merely a custom.

"The men who are here. Do you want them alive?" he asked.

"They will ask questions if they disappear," was all she answered.

"The dragons will eat them." He gestured to Torrhen.

Two heads fell to the ground.

"I'm sorry," she said, unmoved.

"It doesn't matter," he called to the dragons. He felt a bond with the silver one, and Dany felt the same with the black one. The copper one followed the other two; he was the most docile.

"Do you know why I wanted to talk in front of the weirwood tree?" she asked him after they had separated.

"To know that you're telling the truth," he replied instantly. He had already understood why. And he believed that the gods would give him a sign if she were to lie.

"If you don't give him the dragons. If the dragons have already bonded with you or your wife," she began. "Rhaegar will kill you---poison, faceless. He'll use everything he's got," she said. "I didn't hear it from him. But I know him," she said, looking at the corpses on the ground.

"He wants the conquerors," he deduced. Aegon, Rhaenys, Visenya. Only their dragons were missing.

"Yes. One represents the Valyrians, another the Rhoynar, and another the First Men. I'm not sure, but Myrcella could represent the Andals." She paused for a moment. "He always believed that his children would be better than the conquerors. That they would do what they couldn't. A prophecy, one he keeps close to his heart." She scoffed. "It wouldn't be surprising if he wanted the new Aegon to have three wives instead of two."

"And he needs dragons to stay in power if he intends to do that. I can't see any other way Tywin would agree. Either he sees his granddaughter sharing the title of queen with two others, or he sees her dead," he said. Tywin would be the biggest problem. The religion accepted that Rhaegar had two queens. It wouldn't be so far-fetched for his son to follow in his footsteps.

"Yes," she said vaguely. She looked among the trees and heard footsteps. Torrhen had moved away from the dead bodies. "Those---gods!" she exclaimed. The dragons were now the size of deer. However, the widest one seemed to have the build of a bull.

She looked at the fire, with three distinct flames: black, white, and red.

The smell of burning human flesh took her back to when she first smelled it. And... for a second she heard her baby's cry.

She felt, within all the bitterness and pain, a flash of happiness, just from hearing her baby again.

The sound of skin tearing between their jaws kept her absorbed. They attacked the skulls first. Within minutes, the flesh was gone, and only bones with small pieces of meat remained. One leg, one arm, and part of the torso of one of the men were almost complete, almost intact, but they were filled before they could reach them.

For a magnificent second, she imagined Rhaegar replacing those corpses.

"I'll need your help," said Jaehaerys. "I want to keep Visenya here." She frowned.

"You want a hostage," she said, not looking happy.

"Yes. And you'll stay with her," he said. "When I negotiate with Rhaegar, I'll ask that she stay here as Daenerys's companion."

"You'll give her dragons?" she asked.

"No, but your daughter will be close to them. It will make her believe she'll be their rider," he said.

"How can you be so sure she won't join him?" she asked.

"If she does, she'll stay here. Raised by you," he said.

"And you'll take her as your second wife," said Lyanna.

"What? No, I don't plan to," he denied.

"But I do. If she manages to tame a dragon, marry her." The queen seemed stubborn.

"She's almost half my age; I can't, no," he refused vehemently.

"I can convince Rhaella to pressure the king. But I want you to promise me that if she bonds with the dragon, you'll marry her." Her reddened eyes stared at him intently.

"Why?"

"With a dragon, you won't use her as a weapon. I know you'll have two. Besides, I know you'll protect her." She took a deep breath. "I trust you will survive the assassins, and I trust you will keep Daenerys safe. Rhaegar will not try to kill Visenya, but other lords may think differently." She was selfish.

Jaehaerys thought about how unpleasant it would be to marry a child. However, it was really for the best. The idea of keeping Visenya was to keep Rhaegar in check. He couldn't deal with a war, not without his grown dragons. Knives in the dark were more manageable. And he knew that no matter what he did, they would come for him first. Rhaegar would only do something drastic once he saw no way to kill him in the shadows. His daughter at ArgentStone would make him cautious. The biggest problem would be getting Visenya into the castle.

If Rhaegar planned to kill him with assassins, that was more feasible, as he would see her free as soon as he learned of his death. Rhaegar's trustworthiness would be an advantage for him.

"If that happens, I'll wait until she's 18," he said. He already felt bad for marrying Daenerys so young, although his morals had been distorted in Westeros, and he didn't see it as so far-fetched.

"If you wait that long, they might..."

"They won't. If necessary, I'll marry her younger, but it will only be a sham," he added when he saw she was not convinced.

"Good. Do you swear to keep my daughter safe and take her as your wife if she becomes a dragon rider?"

"I swear." And he felt a chain on his arm. "Lyanna, do you swear to do your best to live?" he asked her.

Convincing the king to keep Lyanna in the castle was easy, easier than convincing him about his daughter. She would stay for her daughter, whom she considered too young to be away from her. Rhaegar would agree.

If Jaehaerys were him, after the assassins failed against him and Dany, he would kill Lyanna. That would make the lords distrust him. It might seem like a small thing, but it would turn Visenya against them if the rumors reached her.

And Rhaegar, believing the girl to be a dragon rider, would expect her to escape flying.

"You're cruel." She smiled bitterly. "I swear." And from the way her eyes widened in surprise, he was sure she felt the magic too.

The queen let out a huge laugh. It wasn't funny, but she was happy. She felt safe. She already knew about magic; the red whore had shown it to her. But knowing that Jaehaerys had it too made her even happier.

"Make sure you convince my mother," he said. "That could be quite complicated. She's already unhappy that I'm here," he said.

"Oh, she'll see the fact that her granddaughter is here as a way to extend her influence in the castle," said Lyanna. "You could expect septons and septas. Will that be a problem?"

"No," he replied quickly. "My mother can send whoever she wants; I decide whether to let them in or not," he added.

Lyanna nodded before saying, "Thank you. It's not your responsibility to accept. But you've proven yourself to be more of a man than your brother will ever be."

"They're family," he said, though that wasn't the whole reason. "And you know this will affect me just as much."

"But you didn't have to offer to save my life," she said, her smile sweet.

Jaehaerys didn't respond to that. Instead, he focused on the alibi for the two men's deaths. "The men looked at the dragons and got too close, and they both died. One of the dragons looked at you, and, fearing death, you began to cry." He quickly made up a story. "When you see your daughter, hold her tight. It will reinforce the story."

"If you were a better actor and more interested in the throne, you would be a danger to Aegon," she said. She wasn't the first to tell him how bad he was at acting. "You're like an open book. I saw the sadness in your eyes, maybe that's why I opened up so much," she sighed. "I'll hug my daughter anyway. For the first time, I feel like I have a future." She touched her wrist, where she felt the magic form a bond.

"About the throne," he began. "What do you know about Aegon?"

"Are you asking if he's like Rhaegar?" she asked. He looked at her and nodded. "I don't know. I stayed away from him and Rhaenys. If his stoicism is a facade, he's better at maintaining it than his father. And Rhaegar is very good at maintaining it," she lamented not knowing more about him.

"I see," he said, looking at the weirwood. His face was redder than ever. "The sun will set in less than two hours. We must return." He didn't say why he had asked the question. There was no need.

If Aegon were like his father, another king would have to be chosen.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Rhaegar looked at the door, and his eldest daughter looked at him with those purple eyes similar to his own.

Rhaenys. She was named after the wife of Aegon the Conqueror.

As the eldest, she should have been named Visenya, but Rhaenys died in Dorne. When his daughter was born with Dornish coloring, he thought, wasn't it fair that Elia's Dornish womb should bring her back?

The king initially believed that the Song of Ice and Fire was about him. But he soon discovered that it wasn't. It was about his children.

Rhaegar always knew that Elia would not give him the three heads of the dragon. The second son was Aegon, in whom his features prevailed. Elia left little of herself in the child. After the birth of his heir, he received the news that Elia could have no more children. He could have forced her, but the resentment of Dorne would have haunted him throughout his reign.

He spent months searching for a place to sow his seed. His Visenya. First, he thought of a Valyrian woman; he even looked at Rhaella. However, the prophecies foretold that Visenya would have black and silver hair. He thought of Baratheon, but there were only sons in that house.

His father's madness began to spread and damage the already fragile foundations of the House of the Dragon. That is why he organized the tournament at Harrenhal, using the flimsy excuse of Lord Whent's daughter's name day.

And that is where he found her. Lyanna Stark. Wild and untamed. The flower of the North. She would give him the last dragon's head. Seduction did not work; she was smitten with him, but she constantly pointed to his wife. Robert, her betrothed, was not mentioned at all.

Was Lyanna's will greater than the will of the prophecy? Of course not, but Rhaegar would do whatever it took if it helped him fulfill his duty. What did the screams of a brat matter compared to destiny? His children were destined for great things. Lyanna would not interfere.

However, his father was there to ruin everything again. He killed the Lord of the North and his heir. Lyanna was important, but she wouldn't start a war, especially when Rhaegar announced his intentions to take her as his second wife. He had already bought off the septons; the Seven weren't the problem.

But Eddard and Robert's heads were requested by Aerys. And the rebellion began. Rhaegar first took care of Lyanna; he had to secure his seed. Then he spent his time searching for answers in mysticism for the war. House Targaryen would not fall. It would not end. The question was: how to win? He did not find the answer. Robert won battle after battle, and the loyalists began to wonder where their prince was. He had to show up. He left the three Kingsguard in the Tower of Joy.

He had to make sure Lyanna didn't escape.

Soon, he found himself at the Trident, looking at the rebel army. The hawk, the stag, and the wolf. They fought well. Better than he expected. The loyalists began to retreat.

Rhaegar faced Robert in single combat. He still remembered his arm burning with every blow from the stag.

He wondered if his younger brother's blows would be as hard. The dragon lost that fight. He fell backward into the river, his sword somewhere underwater. He watched Robert's hammer rise. He was going to die.

Suddenly, he heard horns. Then Tywin Lannister came. The lion flanked the rebels from the side.

Robert made a desperate attempt to kill him, but his hammer struck the river. One of the loyalists knocked him off balance.

Rhaegar didn't remember his name; he was just another one of the many who died in the service of his duty.

Robert fled.

"As long as I live, there will be no peace for your bloodline." Robert's voice echoed like thunder rumbling across the land.

The rebel army was defeated.

Rhaegar won the war as was destined to happen.

The rest was explaining his actions to Lord Stark and Lord Arryn. He told them how Lyanna and he had fled, sharing the blame with her. He apologized for his father and asked for their help. He brought them to their knees and then extended his hand, just as he had learned from Tywin. They had no choice but to accept.

Then he came to make Lyanna sing as he wanted. But when he saw her again, he discovered that she had not brought a Visenya, only a child. Rhaegar's anger was palpable. He thought of naming him Maegor to stigmatize him. His mother, Rhaella, would not allow it, and he ended up calling him Daemon, wanting the lords to think of Blackfyre.

But his name and behavior ended up associating him more closely with the Rogue Prince. Rhaenyra's husband, although known as a shameless rebel, was recognized as a great warrior and general.

It was only years later, with a small sacrifice, that he managed to reunite the three heads. He dreamed it. Three dragons are soaring through the skies.

All that remained was to get rid of Myrcella. His mother had exchanged letters, not with Tywin, but with Joanna. Behind his back, they arranged a marriage between their grandchildren. That marriage won the war.

Myrcella had to go. He wasn't ready for that yet. The kingdom was still healing, and the Targaryens held power, not by force, but through alliances.

He sent people in search of dragon eggs. To Essos, to Valyria, although they never returned. Sothoryos and Ulthos were also considered. He obtained two eggs from a Pentoshi merchant, Illyrio Mopatis. The two eggs showed no sign of being anything more than precious stones.

Why couldn't Rhaegar, the father of the three dragon heads, get dragons?

Where he failed, his younger siblings succeeded. Daenerys is a beautiful girl with thick Valyrian blood. And Jaehaerys, with the mind of a maester and the strength of a giant. None of his children was known or mentioned with such effusion. Only Daemon, but he was more wolf than dragon. Rhaegar tried not to think about the people calling Visenya, his youngest daughter, "wolf blood."

His children were perfect. You could see Valyria, the Rhoynar, and the First Men in them. The Andal blood, though not noticeable, still ran through their veins. All Seven Kingdoms were represented in them.

Why did his siblings, who were not mentioned in the prophecy, overshadow his children so much?

Now he had to come to Harrenhal, or ArgentStone, as they wanted to call it now. He wasn't going to beg for the dragons; he was going to negotiate for them. He would offer the hands of his grandchildren or more gold. It didn't matter. He would not leave that castle without the three dragons that his brothers had somehow managed to hatch.

"You say Lyanna stayed talking to Jaehaerys?" the king asked his eldest daughter. He had to kill his wife soon; she had tried to poison him. She was becoming bolder. With Daemon out of his reach, he could no longer threaten her; he would not harm Visenya.

That was worrying. He did not know how much she would dare to reveal.

His brother already held a grudge against him for condemning Viserys. A few howls from the she-wolf, and he could turn against him. Rhaegar could march on Harrenhal with an army. But the lords would see him as greedy.

With dragons, that didn't matter, but he didn't trust himself to raise an army large enough to defeat his brother's thousand men without alerting him. He had heard that some of those men were Unsullied.

An army takes time to assemble and march. Besides, there was no guarantee that other houses would not see this as an opportunity to rebel. The roses were still angry. The trout and the falcon were wounded, although the Tullys, united to the Lannisters by marriage, would not move.

The wolf remained in the cold North, licking his wounds.

"Yes. In front of the weirwood tree in Godswood." His daughter was so Dornish that he sometimes regretted having his children represent the races of Westeros. 'But it's necessary,' he told himself.

"What do the flames say, Melisandre?" The red woman had been a constant support. She understood the value of prophecies and saw Azor Ahai in Aegon.

"The dragons will go to the three heads of the dragon." Her gaze remained fixed on the flames. "It requires a sacrifice. You must give up something you have, only momentarily. The dragon-wolf will ride the copper. The false riders will never achieve their goals." Her voice was mesmerizing.

"What could my brother ask of me?" He shook his head. It was only momentary. 'Dragon wolf. That can only be Visenya.'

"What about Aegon and Rhaenys?" he asked the priestess.

"I can see the three dragon heads falling on the Others," was all she said.

Rhaegar hoped that neither Daenerys nor Jaehaerys had managed to join the dragons. He didn't want the stigma of being a Kinslayer.

But if his brothers wanted to usurp the right of his children...

Dragons can have a rider when the previous one dies.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

The Hall of a Hundred Hearths was enormous. It was there that the vote for succession took place almost 200 years ago, which King Viserys I ultimately won. More than a thousand lords and their entourages arrived at Harrenhal. Although it was said that there were a hundred chimneys, Jaehaerys counted only thirty-eight. It didn't matter; he would soon tear the place down.

"I'm sorry that the castle cannot provide the comforts that royalty deserves," Jaehaerys apologized. They were seated at a large table. "I tried to do my best to build ArgentStone. Although I've had some mishaps lately." Rhaegar understood that he blamed him.

"The rooms are comfortable. I must thank you for getting it ready in such a short time, brother." The king smiled, ignoring his complaints.

"I'm glad." They began the small feast. Calling it a feast was an exaggeration. Only the Targaryen family was there; Rhaegar didn't waste time bringing unnecessary lords. He didn't want to give his brother a chance to escape.

The hall was empty. They ate on a platform. Only soldiers and knights from both houses accompanied them.

"I heard the workers say that the towers will be 600 feet tall." Aegon sought conversation as a maid served him lamb. "Those towers are taller than the previous ones," he said, cutting the meat with a short knife. His face remained stoic.

"ArgentStone will be better designed than Harrenhal. But it will maintain and increase its proportions," the prince said, eating a pork chop. Remembering the food of his past life, he began to find the medieval food insipid.

"An ambitious project, uncle." Rhaenys was in no hurry to eat, simply taking a glass of wine. Looking at her, Jaehaerys wondered when he had last tasted alcohol. "Are you sure you can complete it?"

"As long as I can get the materials," he replied, wiping the grease from his mouth. "It seems that Dragonstone can't give them to me. I've started looking elsewhere. There are rumors of volcanoes in Skåne. If I can't get them from Essos, I'll have to bring them from there," he said, looking at the king, who remained indifferent to the conversation.

It was clear to everyone at the table that he was not happy with his older brother's actions.

They were silent for a while as they all ate. Queen Rhaella continued to question her daughter about her life in the castle. It seemed that her previous anger had dissipated. Lyanna just stared at her plate. Visenya, beside her, looked like she wanted to jump on the table.

"Have you thought about returning to King's Landing, brother?" Rhaegar wiped his mouth. He took a sip of wine.

"My duties need me here, on my lands. Leaving would mean stopping all construction," replied the prince. Everyone had put down their cutlery.

"I've looked at the construction. You don't need to be here. You can assign a castellan." Both men were seated at opposite ends of the table. "Jon Connington has proven himself an excellent administrator." Jaehaerys couldn't stop the amused snort that escaped him.

"Jon Connington has no place here. He should pay more attention to his wife. I hear that in more than fifteen years of marriage, they have not managed to produce a child."

Jon wasn't exactly a man he respected. He had only known him as a child, but even then it was clear that his devotion to Rhaegar was greater than loyalty or friendship.

"At this point, I would have expected you to be pregnant," Rhaella interjected, wanting to ease the tension at the table.

"We have three children," said Dany.

And the table fell into a deep silence. Rhaegar made an effort not to frown.

"Mother of dragons!" Visenya almost shouted. "Can I see them?"

"Later, she-wolf," Jaehaerys replied with a smile. The girl pouted but said nothing.

"So, the rumors are true?" Rhaenys dared to ask.

"Would you all be here if they weren't?" the prince asked back. Rhaenys looked at him hungrily, just like she had during the tournament.

"They are," Lyanna interjected. Her face turned pale. "Sir Roland and Sir Adamm got too close." Rhaegar frowned. He had already heard that story.

"The dragons," Rhaegar began, "are the symbol of House Targaryen. That is why I want you to come with me to King's Landing," he explained in the softest voice he could muster.

"There's nothing for me at King's Landing." The wine stung his throat; he hadn't had a drop since his trip to the island.

"I'll make you my Hand. And I'll protect the dragons from the enemies of House Targaryen," said the king, offering him the position of Hand. It was the sacrifice he was willing to make.

'Of or from?' Jaehaerys wondered.

"I will not go to King's Landing," he refused flatly. And that uncomfortable silence returned. "I don't understand why I'm being punished," he asked in a low voice. The echo spread throughout the Hall of a Hundred Hearths.

"It's not a punishment," Rhaegar said sweetly, looking sad.

"Then what is it?" asked Jaehaerys. "I can't work in my castle. Why am I being denied volcanic ash? And now you want me to go to King's Landing and abandon my castle?" If he could see under the table, he would see Rhaegar's knuckles white as he clenched his fists.

"There was an alarm that the volcano could erupt again." Everyone could smell the lies in the king's words.

"I see," Jaehaerys said without adding anything else.

"Have you joined the dragons?" said Visenya. Rhaegar would have to thank his youngest daughter for asking the right questions.

"We don't know," Dany replied. "The dragons are close to us, but we'll only know if they're our companions when we ride them," she explained to the girl.

"Can I have one?" she asked eagerly. "I'll give it sheep to eat." She seemed to want to tell them that she would take good care of the dragon.

"You can't have one," said Jaehaerys. "They don't belong to you." Rhaegar's eyes began to burn a hole in his head. "They don't belong to anyone, not even us," he continued, looking his brother in the eyes. "A dragon is not a pet. It is not a slave. A dragon chooses its rider, not the other way around." The tension at the table relaxed after those words.

"Then can I try to be its friend?" she asked with childlike excitement, oblivious to the tension.

"Of course you can. The dragon will decide if it lets you ride it." His eyes looked at his older brother. "It's best if everyone tries," which left them perplexed. Jaehaerys was confident. Aegon would try to summon the black dragon, attempting to imitate his namesake. It wouldn't work, but hopefully he wouldn't die.

The copper dragon was the only one free, but it was also the least impressive of the lot. If anyone tried to tame it, it would escape. Jaehaerys would have to make an effort to get the dragon to approach Visenya.

"You have made a significant contribution to House Targaryen---more than anyone in centuries. I would feel bad if I didn't reward you." The king's voice was sincere. Jaehaerys gave him more than he thought.

He didn't need to negotiate with the hands of his grandchildren, and it seemed that if Lyanna had told him about the rebellion, Jaehaerys had ignored it.

"I want to build my castle. I need more gold. I want no interference when I obtain materials or with the migration of people. I also wish to be independent," he said at last.

"Independence?" The king looked confused. "You want to leave the Seven Kingdoms?"

"No," he denied quickly. "I don't want to bow to Lord Tully," he said. Jaehaerys had been refusing all of the lord's letters of invitation. He always refused, citing his workload, his family, his duty, and his honor. "I want ArgentStone to answer only to House Targaryen." His brother nodded.

"I will send a letter to Lord Tully," he agreed. "Anything else?"

"I don't want red priestesses on my land, and I want Visenya to be a lady-in-waiting for Daenerys. Even if she manages to join a dragon." The other demands were nothing to Rhaegar, but those two made him think.

'Visenya will ride the copper dragon. Keeping her here will be a temporary sacrifice.' It wasn't hard to see that Jaehaerys wanted a guarantee that he would keep his word. Although Rhaegar never thought his younger brother was capable of harming his daughter. He was too kind.

"I accept," he said with a touch of bitterness. "Visenya will remain here, and no red priests will come. Not those I can control." Perhaps he gave in too much, but the dragons were too precious to risk. He had seen the power of the great R'hllor in his sacrificed son. It might upset R'hllor, but he knew Melisandre would agree with his priorities.

"If the girl is to remain here, I think it is right that Lyanna stay with her," said the queen mother.

"I will allow it," the king conceded. Better that Lyanna die within the walls of Harrenhal than in King's Landing. If Visenya began to suspect her uncles, she would harbor resentment against them.

Rhaegar thought that if his brothers were not linked to the dragons, he could let them live. Then he would take ArgentStone from them.

"The false riders will never achieve their goals," he remembered Melisandre's words.

"Then you will see the dragons tomorrow." Jaehaerys raised his cup in their direction.

'I have seen a dragon in my reflection every day,' thought the king.

Everyone at the table missed Lyanna's hand grasping her daughter's hand enthusiastically, as the corners of her lips lifted slightly.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Rhaegar looked like he was about to burn a baby alive. It had gone wrong, very wrong. Aegon looked at the black dragon and immediately thought of Balerion. He approached cautiously, carefully. That didn't stop the dragon from lunging at him. Luckily, it didn't breathe fire, or his heir would be dead.

Rhaenys was another disappointment.

As soon as she saw the state of her brother, she decided to stay away from the dragons. She tried to approach the silver one, but as soon as the dragon looked in her direction, she chickened out and backed away. Visenya was the only one who managed to approach the dragons without danger. He wouldn't say she claimed any of them, but they weren't aggressive towards her.

The copper one in particular looked at her with curiosity and apprehension. When she tried to tell it to follow her in High Valyrian, the dragon turned around and left. It was a failure, but there was hope for her. Staying at Harrenhal would allow her to deepen that bond. The king's anger was directed at his brother. He lied to him, and he knew he did. The black and white dragons had joined him and his wife.

It had now been a week since Aegon had been on the stretcher, recovering. Maester Qyburn was more competent than he had expected for a man who had been expelled from the Citadel.

"How did you manage to hatch them?" he asked his younger brother as calmly as possible. Jaehaerys frowned, as if it were a bad memory.

"With fire. They were on a brazier. Dany used to spend time with them, as if she were incubating them herself," he said. "One night, the fire was stronger, more intense. The flames consumed us both. We weren't burned, and at dawn there were three dragons around us," he told the truth, half of it; he didn't need to know everything.

"That's all?" His brother didn't quite believe him.

"Yes. Do you remember the red star?"

"A sign from R'hllor," Melisandre said. The king did not express that to his brother.

"Yes, the maesters have not discovered what it meant," he told him.

"It was that same night. I don't know if the star gave birth to the dragons or the dragons to the star." His eyes looked up at the sky, hoping to see it again. The star signified the return of magic. "They are related."

Rhaegar accepted that more readily. If R'hllor was involved, then it might have been as Jaehaerys said.

"It's a pity," he said, not knowing how to hatch the dragons at King's Landing.

The red woman gave him the option of sacrifices.

But thousands of men would die for each of the eggs. Why did R'hllor help his brothers and not him? His brother worshipped trees, and trees did not breed dragons; they burned under their flames. He could only think of how his brother's dragons belonged to him.

"Has Aegon recovered well?" asked Jaehaerys.

There was genuine concern on his face. That made the king wonder if he had truly joined the dragons.

"Yes. Your maester is even better than Pycelle," the king admitted. "Aegon will travel in the carriage. He is well enough for that."

"Then I wish you a safe journey. ArgentStone is open to you," his brother said.

"Your Grace, my prince," an immaculate approached. Despite running, he did not seem agitated at all. "The great Weirwood. It's burning."

Jaehaerys jumped to his feet. He began to run out of the tower. Rhaegar felt as though he was looking at a horse, not a man. He could see a red figure in the distance near the arcian. The tree was surrounded by fire. Rhaegar wished the wood would turn to ash. His brother deserved a little punishment.

He approached calmly. He needed composure. He was a king, and he couldn't run like his brother, nor did he care that much about the fire.

"I'm sorry, Jaehaerys," his brother said as he saw the prince holding a sword at Melisandre's throat. "Let her go." It was an order disguised as a request. "The weirwood is intact," he said. To his surprise, not even the leaves looked singed. "There is no damage. I will make it up to you." He began to think that R'hllor was not the only real god. And that idea caused him panic. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he was more potent than the other gods. The only miracles he had ever seen came from the hand of the red god.

"My men will escort her out of ArgentStone," his brother said. "Forgive me for doubting. But she does not serve you, brother, she serves her god." Rhaegar nodded. He dismissed his words. R'hllor's will was bound to his own.

Rhaegar sent two of his own men with her. They were not fanatics, but they were loyal. Sending followers of the red god could end up with her convincing them to kill his brother's guards.

"That tree is an abomination; it contaminates the presence of the Lord of Light," said the witch. It was the first time the king had seen her so upset.

"The weirwood is the light of ArgentStone," Jaehaerys replied. "I hope not to see you here again. It would be a pity to see your entrails on the weirwood," he warned angrily.

"Jaehaerys!" His older brother interrupted. "You have said enough. Melisandre, wait outside the walls," he ordered.

Rhaegar looked at the weirwood. According to his brother, it had removed the curse that hung over Harrenhal. He would have dismissed it from any other man, but his brother was not a talker. And his brother had given birth to dragons.

Rhaegar thought that perhaps his brother sacrificed the people at Harrenhal and disguised it as the curse. Maybe he brought more people than he told him to sacrifice.

'Why do you bless those who worship foreign gods, R'hllor?' His question went unanswered.

Jaehaerys had left, furious. Rhaegar went his own way.

Soon, the king's procession left the walls of ArgentStone. Five people fewer. Lyanna, Visenya, and Ser Barristan remained in the city. In addition to the two Knights of the Crownlands who were devoured by dragons in Godswood.

"Sir Barristan," Lyanna called. Visenya was walking away with Daenerys and Jaehaerys. "I have a question I hope you can answer, good ser." She looked both ways; they were alone.

"I will answer as best I can, my queen," the knight said humbly.

"If the king asks you to kill me, will you do it?" Lyanna took a significant risk. She couldn't stop her hands from shaking.

Sir Barristan remained silent. If there was anyone who knew the darkness of Rhaegar, it was him. Sir Barristan stood guard at the door while Daeron was sacrificed.

"I am a knight. My duty is to protect the innocent, not to harm them," he replied firmly.

"Did you protect Rhaella when the mad king raped her? Did you protect my brother? My father?" she spat angrily. "Do you remember Daeron, Sir Barristan?" Her voice became as sharp as Valyrian steel.

"I could never forget him," he said, lowering his gaze.

How his vows had been put to the test. He remembered little Aegon wanting to see his new brother, the newborn Daeron. Barristan didn't know if the crown prince had seen what happened inside the room; he had tried to avoid it.

"And you dare call yourself a knight? To say that you fulfill your vows?"

"No, Your Grace." The old knight was tired. That was why he offered to be Princess Visenya's guard.

He had tried to leave with Daemon, but the king said his son didn't need a guard. "My white cloak has been soiled by time," he admitted shamefully. He looked at the fabric, white and immaculate, but he knew the truth. "It is my wish to make it white again." The queen did not seem to believe him at all.

"Your vows will be tested. As with Aerys, maybe more," were her words before she left.

Sir Barristan wondered if he had to choose between his knighthood and his white cloak. Which was more valuable? The question was complicated.

Which brought him more misfortune? Which made him want to vomit every morning?

'Keeping vows is difficult. If it were easy, everyone could fulfill their duty,' he tried to justify himself, but deep down he knew they were just lies.

He watched the riders ride away. Rhaegar wore a dark green cloak. Barristan couldn't help but remember the Valyrian fire that Aerys loved.

'Will you make this old man destroy what little honor he has left?'

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"Five Unsullied men remain with you when I am not," said Jaehaerys. "I don't think they will send assassins soon, but I will not take any chances."

Daenerys nodded distractedly. It was still difficult for her to accept the face hidden beneath Rhaegar's mask. She loved her older brother dearly, and it was hard to believe everything Jaehaerys said.

"You got what you wanted," she said. "Besides, you could have a second wife," she added at the end, looking at him suspiciously.

"Lyanna told you," he teased her, seeing her sad expression. "It's... a small possibility, I hope I never have to." He approached her cautiously.

"It doesn't bother me that you're marrying her. I'm used to seeing Rhaegar with two wives," she admitted. "But... why did I have to find out from Lyanna?" she accused him.

"I didn't expect her to say anything," he admitted, not wanting to lie to her.

"Were you planning on telling me?" She looked for the truth in his face. "Of course not," she snorted.

"I can keep Visenya away from the dragon. The normal thing would have been for them to form a bond when they met, like us," he said, appeasing her. "I won't marry her."

"You don't seem to understand, love." Her voice remained sweet, even when she was hurt. "It bothers me that you didn't consult me," she said, taking him by the cheeks.

"Aren't you upset about the second wife?" he asked.

"No. I might even want you to marry her." Her cheeks flushed red. "The dragons should remain among us, our family," she said. She didn't seem uncomfortable with the idea of him having another wife.

"I decided on the spot," he confessed. "It was a request from Lyanna. I didn't have time to consult you. What was I supposed to say? Something like, 'I'm marrying someone else; I'll ask the carpenter to make a bigger bed,'" he tried to joke. He watched the corners of his wife's lips turn up.

"It would have been better than silence," she said, pulling away from him. "I'll go with your betrothed. At least she's fun," she said, separating herself from him.

Brandon and the five Unsullied followed her. The northerner gestured with his hand, palm facing the sky and fingers bent as if holding a stone. Then he moved his lips, articulating: "She's got you by the balls."

Jaehaerys felt like training with the twins soon. It had been a while since he had used his staff.

"Is it fun, Torrhen?" he asked the twin who remained at his side.

"Not at all, my prince," he said. Jaehaerys looked at the expressionless face of his guard. He scrutinized it for a while but found not the slightest hint of a smile.

Rhaegar said that volcanic ash would soon reach King's Landing. He had sent letters to Viserys asking him to fill ships with it. Jaehaerys had to send Drakkars to King's Landing; the ships carrying it could not enter the Blackwater, not without risk.

He needed to review the logistics of the construction. The workers had brought the excess stone to the walls. Soon, he could begin to tear down the Hall of a Hundred Hearths. He would have to order the construction of a small house for old Whent before demolishing her tower.

Rhaegar gave him three hundred thousand golden dragons more. It wasn't that he was short of money; the sale of perfumes and other products had left him with a good amount of gold. In the four months since the dragons were born, he had spent nearly two hundred thousand. That still left him with a million dragons or more.

The Drakkars continued to be produced, and he now had a small fleet of twelve of them. Half were stationed. Although he received letters from lords of the riverlands asking to buy or rent some of them to trade at King's Landing, he agreed to lease the ships, as he did not have enough sailors to handle all twelve.

Jaehaerys began to receive a quantity of barley each month, courtesy of Lord Randyll. Sam had turned out to be a blessing. The boy had lost several pounds and his figure had slimmed down. He was still overweight, without a doubt, but he had shown improvement.

He used the barley to recreate whiskey. He did not know the exact procedure, only that it was a progression of fermentations and distillations. He remembered that the product used was malted barley. To do this, he needed to soak the barley and let it germinate. From there, he had to proceed by trial and error. In the end, after malting, he dried it in the sun. He mashed it in hot water, and after the mash, he removed the malt residue. Then he wanted to ferment it.

Medieval fermentation was poor; the ideal was to use a pure yeast culture. But all the yeasts he could imagine separating were contaminated with bacteria. In a fermentation process, bacteria could release acidity that would sour the taste of the whiskey. In the end, he obtained yeast from grapes by placing them in a solution of sugar water. They were still mixed with bacteria in a low concentration, but it worked.

The prince thought about the need for agar to isolate microorganisms. He discarded the idea for the moment.

After fermentation, he proceeded to distill it. The first distillation was almost toxic, smelling like rotten eggs, unfit for drinking. At that point, he restarted the process, believing that the bacteria had ruined everything.

The next time he reached that stage, he got the same taste. The answer to the problem came from Dany when he was complaining about the process.

"What if you distill it again?" was an innocent question. "If distillation is for purification, couldn't it be purified further?" she said when he looked at her frowning.

The second distillation was successful, but not initially very effective. However, he noticed that the extracted liquid was divided into three parts: the first was highly toxic, the third was oily, and the second was the most beneficial of all. However, the rotten smell persisted. Now he had a theory.

It was contaminated with sulfur, and during fermentation, sulfated compounds could be generated. Until then, he had used glass flasks for distillation. Glass had been one of the first things he worked with, which is why the process was so refined. He had five glassmakers under his command, loyal northerners.

He thought about obtaining a precipitate by reacting sulfur with copper, leaving a piece of copper in the tube emerging from the flask. It worked, but only to a limited extent.

Taking a risk, he decided to change the material of the containers to copper, so that it would react during the first distillation process. In his memories, he recalled seeing copper stills, which were closed containers with a tube protruding from the top. Then they spiraled down.

The liquid inside the container was heated until it evaporated, traveled through the tube, and condensed, forming drops that then fell into a container. He had seen them once in college when he was studying chemistry. He saw a picture, but no one ever told him what they were for.

"Professor Wilson was always lazy," he complained.

This time, the whiskey was drinkable. But it was harsh, more like aguardiente than the whiskey he remembered. It needed to be aged for years.

All he could do was wait, so he left it in a wooden barrel. He had to find people he could trust with the process. He immediately thought of former slaves, like at his other distilleries.

The processes of creating perfumes, oils, scented soaps, and shampoos were left in the hands of slaves. They were not taught the principles; only the procedure was taught. The former slaves were extremely loyal, whether out of habit or gratitude. Their quality of life had significantly improved; they were now free people.

Jaehaerys thought about having people swear allegiance before a weirwood. But it would be tedious, and he didn't know if it would apply to those who didn't believe in the gods of the forest.

'I could make contracts with runes,' he thought. 'Not many know how to write,' he said, saddened.

Now he thought about the runes. In his need to use them to detect the assassins, he had begun to look for ways to detect malice. Even nullify poisons. He could sew runes into Dany's clothes to give her protection. As he walked toward the central towers, he saw something that bothered him again.

"Did they try to burn the arcian tree again?" He frowned as he gazed at the fire surrounding the weirwood tree. 'Who would dare? Ah!' He looked at the hunched figure. He had no concerns about the weirwood; if Melisandre couldn't burn it, others couldn't.

"Your old bones were cold, Lady Whent?" he asked the old witch. The former Lady of Harrenhal gave him the perfect excuse to expel her from the castle.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Dany watched Shella Whent leave in a carriage. She didn't know where her husband had sent her, but she was grateful not to have to see her again. She had never hated anyone. Not even Joffrey Martell, who had tried to seduce her. She had felt disgust and resentment toward the lords at King's Landing. But hatred? Never.

But Lady Shella. She couldn't say. She couldn't forget the horror she felt at the curse, watching the men die. And Lady Whent, enjoying it. She could have forgiven her for not admitting to knowing about the curse. But enjoying the suffering, death, and fear of innocent people was something she could never forget.

She didn't wish her death or a tragic fate. But Dany wouldn't raise a glass in her honor when she found out she had joined the Whent's fate.

"So you're going to Essos?" she asked Brandon. The serious man was good company. He wasn't vulgar or foolish. He always behaved well. If she were queen, she would have given him the white cloak without a second thought.

"Yes, princess. The king ordered me to get more Unsullied." Dany frowned. She didn't like slavery. Nor did she like her husband participating in it. But she could see how the Unsullied's lives had improved at ArgentStone. As had those of the five hundred slaves who had come with them.

They were better off in her castle than in Essos.

"I wish you luck, Brandon." She didn't call him Ser, because he wasn't a knight, nor Lord, because he was a bastard. He didn't have a title, and Daenerys felt he should have one. She would think of something. "I'm curious, how much does an Unsullied cost?" she asked him.

"About thirty gold dragons, give or take," Brandon replied. The prince gave him two hundred and fifty thousand dragons. He should be able to get about eight thousand Unsullied. "Lord Manderly will help us bring them to Westeros," he added at the end.

"I didn't know Lord Manderly had business dealings with my husband," she remarked. "I only remember that he gave us a ship at our wedding," said the princess.

"They exchanged plans a long time ago. Jaehaerys improved his ships in exchange for Lord Manderly giving him ships." It was years ago, but Manderly kept his word. "The ship he gave them at their wedding was the first of 25. After that, the prince will have to pay for new ships, although my grandfather will always give him a lower price than the real one," he slipped up at the end. Dany watched him clench his jaw.

"Thank you for sharing that with me, Brandon." She gave him a small smile, trying not to make him feel judged by her.

He didn't speak again. He would leave tomorrow. He would have to go to Astapor and back. The outward journey would take about four moons, as would the return journey. That meant she wouldn't see her guard again for eight or nine moons. Dany hoped he would return safely. She promised to find him a good wife.

Dany then went to her classes with Qyburn. The old maester no longer seemed disappointed in teaching her. At least she managed to change his opinion of her. At first, she thought he didn't like her because she was a woman, but it was because he had to teach her many things, and he was a man with little time.

The way she and Serena learned from him was simple: he let her read things outside of class and then asked her to explain them to him in class. If she explained well, he would add information about things that weren't in the books. If she explained poorly, he would correct her. Dany didn't like to make mistakes, even though he wasn't exactly rude or harsh when correcting her. Being corrected meant that she hadn't learned enough, and her studies would be delayed.

Serena didn't pay as much attention as she did, but she was a good student. She took her studies more as a distraction than as something she wanted, although she often talked about one of her sisters, claiming that she would like the class.

Then Sam arrived. The boy was intelligent. Dany felt surpassed by him as soon as he arrived. But she soon realized that he was not so different from her. He liked to read, but his father did not allow him to do so too much. His father wanted to make him a warrior.

It was not difficult for Dany to find what they had in common. Neither of them was allowed to study anything in depth, except for history and houses.

Even so, Daenerys felt she needed more women to live with. At that time, she only had Ros. And she seemed to spend most of her time busy running Jaehaerys's businesses.

Serena was there too, but she was more distant and reserved, finding it difficult to trust others. Dany had made an effort to become her friend, but found it very difficult to do so.

She considered inviting ladies-in-waiting, but she wasn't sure where she would accommodate them. ArgentStone wasn't ready yet.

Visenya and Lyanna were there, but they weren't her age. Visenya was too young and Lyanna too old.

"Forgive me, Brandon, if my question offends you." She looked at him and nodded. "Do you think any of your..." She paused. "Of Lord Manderly's granddaughters could be a lady-in-waiting here?" she asked. She heard that the eldest, Wynafryd, was around 19 onomastics. While the youngest, Wylla, was the same age as the princess.

"The relationship between my grandfather and the prince is good," he finally said, mentioning his kinship with the Lord of White Harbor. "It wouldn't be out of the question for Wylla to join. For now, Wynafryd is the heir, so it's unlikely she'll leave White Harbor." Dany nodded. She would ask her husband to arrange it.

She thought of other possible ladies-in-waiting. She remembered Desmera Redwyne; they weren't exactly friends, but they had exchanged courtesies. There were also the daughters of Karyl Vance, Emphyria Vance, and Rhialta Vance. Rhialta was the older of the two, a year younger than Dany, and Emphyria was two years younger. Both had an older sister named Liane.

Dany considered those four. One from the north, one from the domain, and two from the riverlands. She wasn't afraid they would refuse; the rumors of the dragons would bring them to her castle, perhaps with the idea of getting a bastard of Jaehaerys and the chance to steal a dragon. Dany trusted her husband. She hoped none of the girls would be stupid enough to try.

For a moment, she considered Sansa Stark. But if there was anyone who would refuse despite the dragons, it was Lord Stark. She thought about finding other companions for Visenya. There was Lyanna Mormont in the North, and there was also Bethany Blackwood. Both of them worshipped the old gods.

She would have to discuss it with Lyanna, although she didn't think she would refuse.

"Do you know if Jae is busy right now?" she asked her protector.

"He's always busy. I'm sure he can make time for you," said the man, and Dany nodded with a smile.

Dany watched her husband distill a new drink he called whiskey. It tasted awful, but he said the flavor would improve with time. He was also making another drink called mead. Unlike the first, Dany had heard of this one, although it was mostly northerners who consumed it.

As expected, Jaehaerys agreed. As long as the houses decided to send the girls, he would be okay with it. He asked for a moon to build a new mansion for the girls. He had to have a place to accommodate them, along with any guards and maids who might accompany them. One moon, with hundreds of men working, would be enough.

Dany felt happier for the rest of the day. She even helped him with the mead. Then she listened to him talk about fermentation. She had only just begun to learn about microorganisms, so it was a little challenging to keep up with him. Fortunately, he was patient. He answered her questions graciously and without hurting her feelings.

After helping her husband and learning a little more, the princess went to see the dragons. Her black dragon greeted her, looking down at her from above. She did not bow her head; her dragon was the most rebellious of the three, and she could not be weak in front of him.

Jae's silver dragon greeted her by flapping her wings. She was the most docile and beautiful. The copper dragon was not in sight, probably hiding; he was a coward.

The dragons did not have names yet. Dany thought of many for her dragon: Nightdancer, Nightsinger, Nightfury, Nightfyre. Jaehaerys suggested "Nether," and then laughed tenderly, like a child. It was like a joke that only he understood.

Dany looked at the place where the dragons were, the Godswood. It wasn't ideal, but the dragons knew they shouldn't use fire there; they were obedient. The intelligence in their eyes made her think that humans inhabited their bodies.

Now the princess had to think about building a lair for her children. She felt tired but also useful. It was satisfying to be busy.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Lady Rhialta Vance and Lady Emphyria arrived exactly five days after the letter was sent. Lord Vance sent them with the idea of forming a bond with Dany, his goal being that the friendship would strengthen his house. Perhaps a marriage between their children years later.

The Manderlys also agreed; although Lady Wylla would take a moon to arrive, Lyanna Mormont would travel with her. The Redwynes also accepted. Desmera arrived three days after Lord Vance's daughters. The mansion was completed before the letters were sent, so they had no trouble finding rooms for them.

Dany still didn't know what orders Desmera had, but she hoped she wouldn't try to seduce her husband. The Redwynes had a powerful fleet, and she wouldn't mind seeing her children married into that house. She decided to put her reservations aside; in the end, she was the one who called her. She wanted friends.

The Vance girls were agreeable, perhaps overly servile.

She hoped that would change with time; they seemed more like maids than companions. Both were quite similar, with red hair and green eyes. They were pretty, but not the kind to start wars. Desmera had more presence. She was a beautiful girl with brown eyes like a deer's. She resembled Margaery, which was no surprise considering they were cousins.

Another lady who arrived at the castle was Bethany Blackwood, with gray eyes, dark hair, and pale skin. She was destined to become a beauty. The girl hit it off with Princess Visenya. She wasn't as rebellious, but she enjoyed following the girl in her mischief.

Dany hoped Lyanna Mormont would be calmer than the other two.

"I hope you like the rooms," she heard her husband say. Dany had organized a small dinner party. To her delight, none of the girls looked at him flirtatiously, although she could see that they seemed attracted to him. That didn't matter to her; hundreds of women were attracted to him, just as hundreds desired her. As long as they didn't try anything, she didn't care.

"They are. Although I must admit my curiosity about the buildings," said Desmera, interested. Jaehaerys raised an eyebrow and asked her to continue. "The size of the towers is immense. I think only the Hightower lighthouse is bigger," said the girl, eating demurely.

"It is. The Hightower lighthouse is 700 feet tall. The tallest tower in ArgentKeep will be 600 feet," replied the prince.

They continued chatting amiably. Visenya and Bethany soon slipped away, with Lyanna and a group of guards, including Ser Barristan.

Soon Jaehaerys retired, leaving Dany alone with her ladies.

"I must admit, princess, I envy you a little," Desmera admitted once the four of them were alone. The other two ladies looked at her in surprise. They had invited Serena, but she declined the invitation. Daenerys was upset about it, but Jaehaerys told her to let it go.

"For my husband," Daenerys replied. He was handsome, strong, intelligent, and visionary.

"I don't think there are many men like him," continued the Redwyne girl. "I hear you study? Like a maester?"

"I do. Qyburn has taught me. I won't force you to attend, but if you wish, you are welcome." The Vance girls seemed eager to jump at the chance.

"I'll pass. My interest in those areas is limited," she apologized with a smile. She didn't want to seem like a bootlicker.

"And what are your interests, Desmera? May I call you that?" she asked. She wasn't offended by the rejection.

"Gardening and boats," the girl said quickly.

"I would appreciate your support when I design the garden." Dany smiled at her. She liked how she seemed unwilling to please her, but also not disrespectful. She was what she imagined a friend could be. "And you, Rhialta, Emphyria. Do you have anything you like?" She tried to include the girls. She didn't want them to be relegated to the background. She was their hostess.

"I like embroidery and praying in the sept," Rhialta said.

"I like archery," Emphyria said, her head bowed as she spoke. Her sister pinched her leg, scolding her.

"There's a sept at ArgentStone," Dany began, though she was not devoted to the Seven. She had not been the most devout since childhood. Once at Harrenhal, she found peace in the old gods. They were the ones who were with her when she was afraid. "It's abandoned, but I heard you traveled with a septon. You can pray there," she told them.

"Thank you, princess," Rhialta said before her sister could speak.

"And there's an archery range," she said, looking at Emphyria.

"That's not very appropriate. Ignore my sister," Rhialta said.

"Queen Lyanna will teach Princess Visenya and Bethany." She ignored Rhialta. "You can join them, Emphyria." She began to dislike Rhialta.

"Thank you, uh, Daenerys," said the Vance girl. Her sister looked angry.

"She's a princess, Emphyria," she corrected her younger sister.

"Daenerys is fine, Rhialta. You only need to call me princess in public, to maintain decorum." The princess stood up. "I'm usually busy in the mornings. I eat with my husband and then study with Qyburn," she warned them. "I'll try to break fast with you from time to time. If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know," she told them.

The girls accompanied her to her mansion. They were only a few meters away. It was a short walk. Torrhen and a group of Unsullied and guards followed them.

"That necklace is beautiful, and the runes inscribed on it... they remind me of those on the Royce armor," said the youngest of the Vances.

"It's a gift from my husband," said the princess. She didn't mention the magical part of the necklace. It was supposed to heat up when someone had harmful intentions against her. So far, it remained cold against her skin. It could also purify the poison in her body.

The girls stayed at Daenerys' mansion for a few more minutes before going to bed. Their personal guards and Unsullied accompanied them.

She arrived at her bedroom and saw Torrhen pause at the door. According to Brandon, his brother was wilder and more lustful. Dany hadn't noticed those characteristics, but she trusted Brandon.

When she entered her chambers, she looked at her empty bed. It was not unexpected. She walked toward the wall, where a door led to her husband's quarters. She found him reading a book by candlelight, his eyes glazed over.

"What do you think of them?" she asked as soon as she saw him. She watched as he placed a bookmark and closed the book. "My ladies-in-waiting. Do you think they are pretty?"

"Desmera is a beauty," Jaehaerys admitted.

"You are a fool," said the princess. "I heard that Sam knew her," she asked her husband.

"He does. Lord Tarly intended to marry them, to let Sam grow up with the Redwynes first. It ended badly when Desmera's twin brothers intimidated him, and Randyll took him back to Horn Hill," he told her.

"Perhaps love will blossom between them here," said the princess, hoping a little that it would. Sam was a good boy. She took a seat across from her husband's desk. Then she leaned over to pick up one of the books on it. She watched her husband's eyes get lost in her cleavage.

"Are you tired?" she heard him ask.

"Maybe?" She smiled at him.

She wasn't tired at all.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"I expect the two central towers to be ready in two moons, my prince," Qyburn said with palpable exhaustion. However, his workload had undoubtedly decreased when Dany became involved in the castle's construction. The girl was loved and respected by the people.

"That's a relief," said the prince. "Will they be habitable by then?" Even though they would only be towers, they had rooms that, although not the main ones for the lords, could serve temporarily.

"They will be," said the old man. "But they will not be completely isolated. The current mansions are safer for you." Jaehaerys nodded. It was easier to post guards at the manor than at a half-finished tower.

They continued chatting about the construction. Eight moons had passed since their arrival at Harrenhal, now transformed into ArgentStone. If the pace of construction continued, the castle would be complete in three years from then. The two central towers were two of the tallest, so they would take longer.

The outer walls would be expanded after the castle was completed. They were not a priority; the walls had been repaired, making Harrenhal secure and capable of withstanding sieges.

So far, his brother had kept his word; materials and gold arrived steadily. And Lord Tully stopped sending letters inviting him to Riverrun. His older brother had not sent assassins.

Brandon would take another four moons to return, having left a month and a half ago. The journey from White Harbor to Astapor took up to eight or nine moons round-trip. With the compass he gave the Manderlys, they cut it down to less than seven moons, and as their confidence and skill increased, they could reduce it to six moons round trip. He gave him enough gold to bring back an army of at least eight thousand Unsullied. It would make the houses grind their teeth, but it would keep their swords away.

Dany had a necklace to detect malice and poison. Jaehaerys knew it worked on both. The test subjects he gave to Qyburn wanted to kill him, and he could feel the hot metal against his skin. He also made them resistant to poison. Too bad for them that Qyburn would take it upon himself to test the limits of magic against human ingenuity.

Jaehaerys remembered them crying and screaming when they tested the most horrible and deadly poisons the former maester could think of. But they did not die. They could suffer and wish for death, but they could not die. After a while, their bodies purified the poison, but the mental damage remained.

Jaehaerys had ordered Qyburn to design another tower, one larger than any of those that would make up the castle. Its function would be to serve as a vast, restricted laboratory. At least the upper floors belonging to Qyburn would not be accessible to those they did not trust.

The old man began to design it with enthusiasm, more than the prince had seen him work on the rest of the castle.

"How are the mines going?" He had put the iron and coal mines into operation. More than six hundred men worked in both, mainly in the coal mines, where two-thirds of those men were employed.

"About a hundred tons of coal are being extracted. The problem is transporting it to the castle." The maester did not seem very interested. "As for iron, about three tons are being extracted. Once purified, there are about 1,400 kilograms left." The iron was not pure, and the impurities had to be removed.

"Order the creation of a reverberatory furnace and three blast furnaces. You remember, right?" It was a method he had previously discussed with him.

The blast furnaces were used to treat the iron ore, which was impure. They consisted of a tall tower, 33 to 49 feet high and 10 to 16 feet in diameter. Their walls were between 12 and 24 inches thick. There, the ore was mixed with coke, limestone, and iron. The result was pig iron, which still required further purification.

That's where the reverberatory furnace came in, which used indirect heat to heat the pig iron, allowing the gases in it and compounds such as sulfur, carbon, and phosphorus to escape. A slag formed, which consisted of non-metallic oxides. The pig iron never ended up liquid; they had to make sure it had a paste-like consistency, so that the slag would float because it was less dense and could be removed manually.

This method was not yet known in Westeros. The highest quality iron was not as good as the one he planned to create.

"Is there any immediate need for iron?" asked the old maester.

"There is. I want the workers' tools to be made of iron. New inhabitants have also arrived. I permitted them to cultivate land." He recalled encountering migrations after the king visited his castle. He now had about thirty thousand people throughout his land. It was not many, but considering that there had been fewer than ten thousand before, it was a considerable improvement.

"Give them iron?" The maester hesitated. But knowing Jaehaerys, he was sure he had some reasoning.

Although it was also possible that the prince wanted to improve their lives, he had a good heart. Qyburn hoped that the smallfolk would not destroy his trust in them.

"Yes. I also plan to create rails inside the mines, which will allow the minerals to be extracted more quickly. Metal is a necessity, not only for the army." Qyburn finally agreed.

"Then I will order the creation. I have the plans in my possession," he said. Part of him was interested in metallurgy, but it was never his primary interest. If it were up to him, he would be opening up corpses and living people all day long, searching for the secrets hidden within the human body.

"Order the brickmakers to add the Kano rune to the bricks used in construction. There is a smithy near the north wall; let them build it there." It was best to use a space already assigned to the blacksmiths.

"It will be done, my prince. Do you need anything else?" asked Qyburn.

"Tell me about Marwyn, the wizard." He had received letters from the man, who had expressed interest in visiting ArgentStone to discuss matters with him.

"He is a man who has devoted more time and effort than any other to the study of the mystic arts. I dare say he is more obsessed with them than you are," he said, speaking well of the archmaester. "Without as much success," he added at the end.

"I will allow him to visit the castle. The Citadel also intends to send a maester. What do you think?"

"The grey rats hate the taste of magic," he warned.

"You may withdraw, Qyburn." He did not know how to refuse the maester sent by the Citadel without becoming its enemy.

Although he was already at that point, his person was surrounded by mysticism and magic. The Citadel had neglected Harrenhal. The maester died two weeks before he occupied the castle. It took them eight moons to replace him, which was strange. Even if they despised him, he was a Targaryen, so why did they spend so much time leaving him aside?

Now things were going smoothly; only war could delay the construction of his castle. But the kingdom seemed at peace. Daemon was off the map, and Viserys was subdued and isolated in Dragonstone. There was no basis for war.

Not within Westeros. But the shadow of Robert Baratheon still lingered in Essos. If he managed to get ships and send his people to Westeros, it would bring death, more so for the peasants. The lords would lock themselves in their castles; the Dothraki were not known for their siege capabilities, and the lords did not care about their people.

Jaehaerys began to think about how to maintain the loyalty of his people. Was it right to use magic to maintain loyalty? No.

But what was right would not keep him and Daenerys safe.

The dilemma lay in how to do it.

Inguz ᛝ. The rune represented family union, alliance, and commitment.

It would not be a rune that gave him mental control over his subjects. It would make them naturally more loyal. And it would give him the responsibility to protect them. But how could he apply it on a massive scale? He couldn't.

He could use it, not on the entire population, but on those he needed to keep secrets. The Inguz rune would keep them loyal. The Tyr, Thurisaz, and Hagalaz runes would bring punishment upon traitors. A disease would fall upon them, slowly killing them.

He would not use the last three runes on himself, only the first, because he needed a commitment from both parties. If he betrayed his oath to protect them, there would be no consequences other than breaking the contract and having to start a new one.

'I need to experiment with the sap,' he thought, running his hand over his chest. The scar had healed. But he would prefer not to have to cut open his skin to inscribe runes on his body. It was unhygienic. The sap had a high adhesive capacity, and even if it disappeared, it remained magically marked where it was engraved.

'Perhaps I could use a prisoner and inscribe the poison purification runes on him,' he thought. With the population growing, banditry increased in his lands; there was no shortage of volunteers for the experiments.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Brandon had a love-hate relationship with the sea. He loved the salty smell and watching the waves break to make way for the ships.

But the crew were sweaty, smelly men. No beautiful maidens to court. Hell, he would have settled for a whore.

"I see you've found a good place next to the prince," and the other reason for his hatred of the sea was his father. Wendel Manderly, the second son of Wyman Manderly. He was a robust man. He never knew him until he was under the prince's care, where his father recognized him as his bastard.

"The prince gave me shelter and food when no one else did," he replied, trying not to sound sharp. "Loyalty is repaid with loyalty."

"We'll be in Pentos soon," his father warned. He seemed to have picked up on the annoyance in his tone.

Brandon sighed. He didn't hate all the Manderlys; his cousins didn't mistreat him, even knowing he was a bastard. But his father, uncle, and grandfather seemed to see him as a connection. There wasn't much affection between them. And Brandon knew that if it weren't for the prince, his father wouldn't have made much effort to get close to him.

Family aside. He remembered that the prince had ordered him to keep his ears open in Pentos. And if possible, to investigate the Golden Company. He wanted information about a young man the same age as Aegon, Rhaegar's son.

They landed in Pentos without incident. A fleet of forty ships attracted a lot of attention, but they were quickly dispatched. He knew the Manderlys were there to trade. They planned to empty their ships before reaching Astapor. The journey was quite long as a result.

It was three moons from Pentos to Astapor. Four, if you counted the stops.

He toured the city with a few men from the North. He was glad to see that he wasn't the only one who found the weather extremely hot. He was close to taking off his shirt and walking around naked.

That was what he missed about the North, the cold and the ice. He already had the snow with him. At least the river tent was cool, and he was able to get used to living there.

In the city, he heard rumors about the Golden Company. Apparently, they had signed a contract with Myr to fight in the Disputed Lands. The Disputed Lands were an expanse of land between the Three Daughters, Myr, Tyrosh, and Lys. The lands were in a constant state of war, claimed by all three cities. They seemed to fight over them more out of pride than anything else, as none of the three cities could ever hold on to the territory for very long.

He had heard that the Golden Company had signed a four-year contract in that territory. The company had a reputation for consistently completing its contracts. He heard mention of a young man of Valyrian appearance among them. He was not the only one with those features, but he was the one they talked about the most.

Aegon Waters.

They said he was one of the bastard sons of the Mad King, although they did not tell the name of his mother. Apparently, he was conceived shortly before the old king died. With Rhaella at Dragonstone, it was normal for Aerys to take lovers to satisfy the excitement he felt after burning his enemies and allies.

Brandon wasn't entirely convinced. But he also heard that Robert Baratheon was heading to the same lands to fight. Volantis offered him a fleet to take his Dothraki to Westeros.

Apparently, Robert was like a demon. People avoided saying his name, as if they feared his warhammer would fall from the sky to crush them.

The people of Essos hated and feared him. He was a Dothraki savage, but a better one. More methodical and strategic. He demanded more than a lord of horses and took pleasure in death and destruction. Brandon discovered that he destroyed the Company of Roses just because he wanted to take one of its captains as his Khaleesi.

The Company of Roses was from the North, founded by the bastard brother of Torrhen Stark, the king who knelt.

The woman he wanted to take as his wife was named Alyssane Stark. She had the characteristic Stark appearance. It was surprising how far Robert had gone with his obsession with Lyanna. It was said that Robert ended up killing her.

'Then Robert against Aerys' bastard.' Brandon could see them tearing each other apart.

The northerner asked about the Company of Roses. They were near Pentos, to his surprise. But Baratheon had hit them so hard that only about a thousand warrior men and women remained.

With a little effort and help from his father, he managed to arrange a meeting with the leader.

"You're Brandon, right? From which house? I can recognize a Northerner just by looking at him," spat the leader. Direct but not necessarily rude.

"A Snow. My father's sigil hangs from those ships." He pointed to the merman with a trident on the flags.

"I see. You wouldn't be a bastard here; there are no bastards in Essos," said the woman.

Brandon was captivated by her. She was the toughest woman he had ever seen. He felt she could crush his head with the mace next to her seat.

"I didn't have the opportunity to be born here," he said.

The girl's eyes were grayish blue. Her skin was tanned, and her hair was platinum blonde, which didn't match her surname.

"And why have you come to me?" asked the woman.

"I want information about Robert Baratheon. I heard you fought him." His words made the woman tighten her grip on the handle of her mace. "I know it's not pleasant, but I'll pay in gold for that information." He took a heavy bag from his belt.

"He's a beast," the woman began. "The Dothraki are savages. But they're predictable: they always attack head-on. They overwhelm you with their numbers and horses." She looked at the golden glint inside the bag. "The Stag changed that."

"I heard that his Dothraki are more organized," Brandon commented.

"They are. I don't know how he managed to convince and train them, but they changed their strategy. He even got them to use spears in addition to arakhs. They flanked us. My company had nine thousand fighters, men and women." She clenched her teeth with hatred. "He killed and enslaved six thousand. He reduced us to three thousand. Among the wounded, another fifteen hundred died and another five hundred deserted." She had a bandage on her abdomen.

"Did you see him?" he asked. He was curious about the stag.

"Seven Hells! Yes, I did. He was huge, must have been six feet seven or eight inches tall," she closed his eyes, remembering. "His arms were massive. But he moved with incredible agility. He killed six of the generals, sparing only me, and took my sister. He stripped her naked in front of my men and raped her." Brandon looked at the hatred in her eyes, tears spilling from them, and it terrified him a little. "She fought back, and the Stag crushed her head with his hands."

Both fell silent. Brandon was not good at comforting people. Princess Daenerys was a witness to that.

"Do you want revenge?" he asked her.

"I do. Soon we will go to Myr to support the Golden Company," said the woman.

"Your strength is small compared to theirs. They will use you as bait." He had planned something with the woman. "I will give you another option." She questioned him with her gaze.

"What option?"

"Jaehaerys Targaryen," he whispered his lord's name.

"Ah, the prince of scrolls. I've heard of him. They say he has dragons." The woman was not interested in his words.

"He does. Three dragons, the last time I saw them, they were the size of bulls," Brandon said.

"So what? Do you know how the Company of Roses was formed?" the woman asked him.

"They didn't want to submit to the dragons. Robert hates the Targaryens; he'll eventually go against them. When that happens, you can have your revenge." He tempted her, wanting to take her with him to Westeros.

"It's still a dragon."

"And you forget how the Golden Company was founded?" Now she was silent. "The Mad King's son is in the Golden Company. Remember? You trade elephants for dragons. Which would win?" The woman was silent for a few minutes.

"What does your prince offer?" Now Brandon had to improvise. He knew his prince well enough to know that he would agree to the terms.

Jaehaerys needed an army, and Brandon was gathering men for him. And a beautiful woman.

"I'll think about it. I'll give you my answer before you set sail from Pentos." She held out her hand. Brandon took her forearm.

"I heard your surname, but not your name." He knew she was a Stark, but that was all.

"Rowena. Rowena Stark," she said firmly.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"How has your life been here, Visenya?" Jaehaerys asked the little wolf.

"It doesn't smell like poop," replied the girl. Before, her comments were sporadic, as if she could barely control them. Now she seemed to say them naturally.

"I hated that King's Landing thing too," confessed the prince, earning a knowing smile from the little girl. "I heard you stopped spending time with the dragon," he said.

During her first days in ArgentStone, she used to go to the Forest of the Gods to meet the red dragon. But she gradually went less and less until she stopped altogether.

"The dragon doesn't like me. He runs away from me," she said with annoyance. "He's not my companion. My companion wouldn't be afraid of a little girl; he's a coward!" she complained.

It was no surprise that the red dragon was the shyest, hiding from everyone except Jaehaerys and Daenerys. Visenya had to make an effort to get close to him.

"A wolf scares everyone, even dragons," he said, waiting for her reaction.

"I'll make sure to howl if I see him again," she said, looking at Bethany in the distance and running in her direction, leaving the prince alone.

The girl became wilder in her castle, no longer renouncing her Stark side, much to her mother's delight. The girl spent the day running up and down, chasing around the grounds. Ser Barristan followed her. The old knight deserved credit; he never let her out of his sight.

Lyanna also seemed more at ease in ArgentStone. She had begun training with other guards. She wasn't powerful and her skills were stagnant, but she was slowly recovering, even though she often lost fights. But there was one thing no one could beat her at, and that was horseback riding. They called her a centaur. Any horse she rode became tame and obedient.

Jaehaerys thought it was the warg blood the Starks had. The prince noticed certain glances between the queen and Torrhen and had to warn them both that a possible romance should not happen. Not while ArgentStone was so exposed.

The king would look for any excuse to oppress him, and Jaehaerys's man sleeping with Rhaegar's wife would be enough.

Jaehaerys went to visit Ros. The young woman spent her time in the village, talking to merchants. The prince rode up the hillside on which his castle stood and made his way to the village. It had grown. There were tents pitched everywhere and people building wooden houses.

The prince found his former lover conversing with a wealthy, fat merchant. She had a tense smile on her face.

"And riches, my beautiful lady. I swear that if you accept my offer, you will never want for anything in your life." The man had to breathe heavily.

"I'm afraid I'm not looking for a husband at the moment," she declined politely.

"I'll talk to the prince, if that's what you're worried about. I'll give him a huge dowry." The people considered Ros part of his family, like an adopted daughter, so they looked at him when they asked for her hand.

"The prince will refuse." Ros watched Jaehaerys arrive.

"Bah! The prince will accept. I will give him a golden ship as a dowry." The man's eyes lost themselves in her curves.

"That ship would sink under its own weight," the prince interjected with a smile.

The man blushed and looked at the prince's smile. He felt fear in his bones. He gave a slight bow, wanting to bend over completely, but his fat body would not allow it. All the promises he had made to Ros vanished the moment he saw the lord of ArgentStone.

"My apologies." The man withdrew. The prince thought he would lose a few pounds running.

"You're scaring away my suitors," said the girl angrily.

"All the perfume I had on couldn't hide the smell of shit and urine on his body," replied the prince. "Although having a golden ship would have been nice."

"Would you trade me for one?" The girl narrowed her eyes.

"No," he replied quickly. "For two, maybe," he added jokingly.

"Idiot," the girl muttered. "What do you want?"

"Insulting a prince is a crime," he said.

"And what will you do?" She approached him defiantly. "Punish me?" She put her arms under her boobs, pushing them up.

Jaehaerys kept his eyes on hers. He had played that game for years. It no longer affected him.

Not that much.

His eyes dropped for a second to enjoy the view. She smiled, delighted.

"I'll give you more work," said the prince.

"Fuck you. No, even better, fuck me. Yes, tie me up and fuck me," the girl asked sweetly.

"I'm married. Remember," he refused. "I want to know how much you've earned in the last five moons." That was how long it had been since Ros returned from King's Landing---the exact amount of time since the dragons were born.

"Gold, gold, all you care about is gold," the woman snapped her fingers, and a girl brought her a leather-bound notebook.

Jaehaerys glanced through the book. Sales in the first month totaled 84,000 gold dragons. This was less than what he would have earned at the initial price. In the second month, he had no sales because he ran out of stock. In the third month, he earned half of what he had gained in the first month. Sales declined in the fourth month and remained at 26,000 in the fifth month. The main items sold were soaps, oils, and shampoos. Perfumes were less sought after.

Over time, prices fell, as he had expected. In the end, in those five months, he made a total of 178,000 one hundred seventy-eight thousand. Now that the price had stabilized, he expected to earn around 25,000 or 30,000 dragons per month. It wasn't much when compared to the 100,000 dragons that the Lannisters extracted every two moons.

He also had to deduct salaries, raw materials, and taxes paid to the capital, leaving him with about 70 percent of gross income. In other words, the nearly 178,000 he earned in five moons became 115,000.

"And you need 2,000 dragons a month. What for?" At least he was grateful that Ros wasn't lying to him by simply skimming income and stealing money.

"You asked me for a spy network. I'm building it," she answered, and Jaehaerys nodded.

"I can get someone else to take care of the business. I don't want to overload you." She smiled affectionately at his show of concern.

"I feel so tired and... repressed." The girl reached out to take his hand. She began to caress his forearm. The other girl, who appeared to be Ros's assistant or apprentice, looked away.

"How are you building the spy web?" asked the prince.

"I've opened brothels in the village. There were already prostitutes, I just gave them a place to work. Their lives are better," she said.

She allowed them to work on other things. The girl who helped her agreed to work with her as an assistant. She knew how to count and was a valuable asset.

Many others preferred to spread their legs for a few silver coins, which she respected.

"Only in the village?" The idea made sense; that was how Baelish had started. That meant they would clash at some point.

"I bought one in Maidenpool and another in Riverrun. I'll take girls from here and send them there to gather information." The prince nodded.

"Take as much gold as you think necessary. Just make sure you record it. Build the foundations well, Ros. Don't rush." The prince held her cheek gently.

Shortly after, the prince left. The income was good, but it wouldn't work in the long run. He would start preparing to sell the glass. He needed to set up a space for the blowers to work.

He would not start selling glass until Brandon returned with the Unsullied. But he could start making it. He had left a furnace in the north; he already knew the process, and his glassmakers had been idling ever since.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Getting into Harrenhal was easy. They were recruiting men by the dozen, and slipping in among the workers wasn't tricky.

Lyanna wouldn't be the first high-born lady he'd killed. He had experience. The Unsullied were always around her. That was a huge problem. He'd been in the castle for almost a month and still couldn't find any gaps in their defenses.

The lords' mansions were well defended. He tried to sneak in and almost lost his life. He remembered the Unsullied's spear sticking into the wall where his body had been seconds before. The ball-less bastards were annoying.

He stalked for days. He had to maintain his facade as a worker. They made him prepare mortar and carry it during the day. At night, he was too tired, but he managed to find time for his main task.

After a long time, he finally saw an opportunity. The she-wolf went alone to the godswood, without the little princess, whom he was ordered not to touch, and without guards.

He entered stealthily. He prepared the small dagger in his hand. He watched her kneel in front of the weirwood tree. Exposed to him. He started to run, but his body fell to the ground. Soon, he looked up at the queen above him, staring at him.

"Looks like we found him, Torrhen." He heard her voice, cold as ice. "Should we interrogate him?"

"Qyburn will make him talk; no need to waste saliva," said the man's voice. After that, he just stared at the sole of his boot before losing consciousness.

The next time he woke up, he was tied to a table. His limbs were stretched out. The room was empty, except for a desk with glass jars on it. He tried to free himself, but couldn't. For hours, no one visited him. Paranoia began to take hold of him.

"Ah, I'm sorry I neglected you. I'll attend to you right away," said the old voice that greeted him. He was carrying another stretcher with a man on it.

The old man in question was Qyburn---another of his targets. The king believed that this man was the one who would bring about change, not Prince Jaehaerys.

He was not afraid to die; R'hllor would protect him. Although inside the castle, his bond with the red god had weakened.

"You are a healthy man." The maester looked at him with narrowed eyes as if he were a book for him to read. "The prince asked me to extract information from you if possible. But he already knows who sent you, so that is secondary," said the man. "The main thing is, of course... science!" He watched as the man took out a metal tool with a black crystal at the tip.

He did not know what that man would bring him. But with R'hllor's help, he would endure it.

"See this?" Qyburn showed him a jar. He didn't recognize what was inside; it was a reddish-brown color. It was shaped like a beech, although much larger. "It's a kidney. It helps filter the blood. Sometimes men get sick, and you have to replace the kidney." The killer trembled. "But the body remembers and knows how to recognize what isn't its own. All the patients I've had so far have failed to accept the kidney. Jaehaerys said it was unlikely unless they were related. But you... You'll help me prove that it can happen, right? You'll live, I promise. I want to say the same for the other man, but I can't do two operations at once," the man sweated cold with fear. "But I guess he'll live through you."

The maester did not look at him as a human being, but as an experiment. He did not care about his suffering or his well-being; he just wanted to get information from him, no, not him, from his body.

"But using it like that out of the blue could kill you very quickly," said the old man. "I would like to experiment. But the trauma could cause you to reject the organ even more strongly..." He seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to try something else. "Ah, I guess I'll have to get straight to the point. Your body will serve one way or another." The man took a glass jar with a white liquid in it.

'R'hllor, save me.' The man closed his eyes, waiting to die by the flames of his lord.

"Open your mouth." The old man's hand was strong. "Ah, you have no tongue. That explains why you didn't answer. Never mind, the poppy milk will put you to sleep."

'My R'hllor, my R'hllor, why have you abandoned me?' He thought before sinking into a deep sleep.

Jaehaerys did not fear common assassins. Only Faceless Men. That is why he sent an informant to Braavos. All he had to do was watch to see if anyone from Westeros entered the House of Black and White. So far, he had received no signal.

It was no guarantee, but it was something he could do. He did not fear poison; he knew that crystals could neutralize it. And if anyone got close enough with a weapon, the necklace would warn him. He gave his wife a dagger to defend herself in case the last line of her own protection depended on her. He taught her how to use it, and she did well.

Thinking of the faceless men, the best assassins in the world, he wondered: how much is his head worth?

"A man has asked." A dark-haired man with empty blue eyes looked at the man in front of him.

Jon Connington was on a mission for his silver king. Rhaegar had tasked him with inquiring about the price of the lives of the princess and the prince. The king's two siblings had committed treason.

"And what is the price of his head?" the griffin asked impatiently. Looking at the man with that stoic gaze made him nervous.

"His life does not belong to the god of many faces," replied the flat voice.

"What?" Jon couldn't believe his ears. "What do you mean by that?" But the voice remained silent. "And what about the princess?"

"Seven Kingdoms." Jon simply snorted and turned away.

He would have to find other assassins to do what the Faceless Men dared not do. He wanted to return to Westeros as soon as possible. To warn his silver king about the existence of his bastard brother.

He needed to organize the deaths of the younger siblings so that he would not return to King's Landing anytime soon. After the Faceless Men, the best were the Sorrowful Men. Jon heard that they were known for whispering, "I am so sorry," before killing their victims.

The Griffin could send an informant to Rhaegar to tell him about his half-brother, but he wanted to be the one to break the news himself.

Jon returned to the inn where he was staying for one last night. He heard the men whispering about the Manderly fleet. Apparently, the Fat Lord had sent his fleet out to trade. Connington sneered.

'The fucking northerners shouldn't be allowed to leave their cold lands,' he thought angrily of those who had betrayed his king.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Jaehaerys thought of the North. The cold lands where he grew up. Had he stayed there, he would have enjoyed peace and tranquility. Perhaps he could even have taken Sansa's hand and inherited a castle. But the North was isolated and had few resources. And he would have to be under the command of Lord Stark and, after him, the king.

At ArgentStone, he had everything at his fingertips and answered only to the king. And not even to him. The dragons gave him the privilege of ignoring the king if he wished.

Sometimes he thought about taking the throne. He did not doubt that once the lords saw that he had an army of more than eight thousand, they would think he was behind that monstrosity.

Taking the throne meant entering into an even greater drama than he was already in. He would have to appease the Lannisters, the Martells, and find a way to keep everyone happy. It was too much trouble; it would leave him with little time to fulfill his purpose in this world.

The soft moan to his right reminded him of his current situation. Daenerys and Ros were curled up beside him. He didn't even know how it had started, whether it was him, Dany, or the redhead who had taken the initiative. But it ended up like this.

He couldn't help but feel vigorous. In his previous life, he was pro-monogamy, although perhaps that was because two girls never looked at him at the same time. He was a nerd studying three majors simultaneously. Sometimes he would drop one to start another. He never graduated from any of them, but the accumulated knowledge did not escape him.

At times, he wondered if his first life had been merely a prologue, preparing him for this world. To acquire the tools necessary to thrive in this world. His family did not love him before he died, nor did they hate him; they were like background characters in a life immersed in books.

Now, in this world, he had to deal with a god of fire, another god of ice, a demigod with a thousand and one eyes, and his brother, the new mad king.

He got out of bed without waking either of the two women. That day marked ten months since he left Winterfell to answer his brother's call. Ten moons since he traded the cold snow for the warmer and more sinister Harrenhal.

In another three moons, it would be a year. Since sun cycles here were measured every thirteen moons, it was a system of three hundred and sixty-four days. It was a day and a quarter shorter than the solar years in his former land. Although it was much rarer, for years the Earth could remain at a constant distance from the Sun, without moving away or closer to it. This caused a continuous summer.

Then it would decide to move away from the sun, causing a winter that could last for generations, if history had been well documented.

It was illogical. And only magic and the gods could explain it.

His steps led him to the Godswood, where he encountered a surprise in the form of a brown-haired girl.

"Lady Redwyne." He watched her tense up, but did not show her surprise. "Admiring the dragons?" A silver wing could be seen in the distance.

"Everyone who hears about the Targaryens in their heyday is curious to see them," the girl confessed, relaxing when she heard no rebuke.

"I hope Westeros doesn't need to see them anytime soon." He hated war and hated killing. But his hand would not tremble if he had to do what was necessary.

Desmera remained silent, still lost in her thoughts. She wanted to look at the dragons and see how they had grown. Her grandmother, Olenna, had urged her to report back, but with the prince discovering her, she hesitated. She saw them tear apart a cow brought by one of the keepers. The ease with which they separated and burned the blood was terrifying.

She did not want to join their victims.

"There are those who say they should never have returned." The comment escaped her mouth.

"When you are at the mercy of another man who is stronger, better armed, more skilled, you think the same thing," Jaehaerys commented. "Several men have told me that before I killed them. Not always with words, but a man's eyes are the window to his soul." The girl shuddered. The prince's voice was raspy and mature. "They say that because they are inferior out of fear. If everyone had dragons, they wouldn't think the same. Don't you agree, Lady Redwyne?"

She hummed in agreement. If her grandmother, Olenna, had had a dragon, she wouldn't have complained when she heard about the birth of three.

"They are magnificent," she said when she saw one take flight. Sometimes the workers could see them flying above the trees in the forest. "A tool of war. But war also brings peace. Prince Jaehaerys, what do you desire?"

"I want to finish my castle. I want to spend the rest of my life developing my land and researching. To have children and watch them grow into men and women," he confessed. "For that, I need peace. And I will use dragon fire on anyone who breaks it." It was a veiled threat. The Reach was unhappy with Viserys.

Desmera swallowed hard. The prince was terrifying at first glance, but she didn't believe he would kill her. She had seen the men talk about war; they had smiles and happiness as if the feeling of killing someone made them happy. Jaehaerys spoke of war not with devotion, but with respect, as something that had to be done, even if it was unpleasant.

At times, she considered her grandmother's words.

"Use what you have between your legs to charm him and keep him coming back for more," but she couldn't. Not for lack of desire. It was simply too risky. Olenna knew that, otherwise, she would have sent Margaery. But the Queen of Thorns didn't love Desmera that much.

"Even so, my lady. The forest is forbidden unless you are a caretaker," he said, and she bowed her head and made a majestic curtsy.

"Curiosity clouded my judgment," she excused herself vaguely.

"Dragons usually eat sheep and cows... but humans are not off the menu," he said. She let out a nervous giggle, not knowing if it was a threat or if he was worried that the dragons would hurt her.

"I understand, my prince. I will leave then, the princess wishes to break her fast with her ladies." She walked away with a determined stride. At a certain distance, she turned her head to see if his eyes were following her figure.

But no, they were fixed on the forest. A wave of disappointment washed over her. She had been comparing herself to the princess since she arrived at ArgentStone. With such a beautiful woman as his wife, the other ladies must be like pack mules.

He entered the forest. The dragons seemed to smell him. The black one looked at him with a small show of respect. The red dragon hid, and the silver one ran in his direction.

'She was an idiot,' he thought, amused and concerned. He wondered if this curious and friendly creature would be capable of burning armies. He remembered her eating Lyanna's guards. Her pleasant attitude suddenly became terrifying.

The dragons were already bigger than him, more than capable of defending themselves against humans. But he still kept them in the forest. Soon, however, it would be too small for them. They were still weak against arrows and spears. He wasn't afraid they would fly away. Only the red one was riderless, and it was too cowardly to stray far from the other two.

Dany and he had been designing a place for them to rest. The initial plans were done. But it would take too long to build. Even then, it would delay other construction projects. They had to finish the dragon pit in less than a year, because at the rate they were growing, they would start knocking down trees just by walking in the Godswood.

Daenerys wanted to replicate the Dragonpit in the capital. But Jaehaerys forbade it. It was confining them in caves that caused them to begin shrinking in size. Her three dragons were special. They were imbued with the Jera growth rune. Their size was abnormal for their age.

The best thing was a tower that would allow them to take flight and live more freely. It would not be a closed tower, like those in the castle, but it had to be able to support the weight of several adult dragons. Dany gave the order to begin digging the foundations for a large tower. They would start with a simple but sturdy floor. The walls would be much thicker than those of the towers, approximately three times thicker. Almost 300 feet in diameter. It was about half the diameter of the Roman Colosseum.

It would have arches to distribute the weight once more floors began to be added. It would not be as tall as the other towers, but it would be much larger.

It was a long-term project and would be built in parallel with the rest of the construction. They could start immediately. But another problem limited them.

'Bricks, bricks again.' He had to increase the production.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

\[Five moons later\]

At the beginning, Jaehaerys had about five thousand five hundred men to work with. With constant migration to his lands, that number grew to over nine thousand. These men were divided into several groups.

The prince sent enough men to the bricks to complete a thousand. This ensured a production of approximately 300,000 bricks per day. 300 men extracted clay. Another 600 were in the mines, extracting coal and iron. Another 1000 men were responsible for transporting either iron, coal, or clay. Approximately 500 men and women worked in the factories that produced the goods sold.

Around 400 men worked in the shipyards. At that time, he had a total of 15 active Drakkars and 25 stationed. Each ship required a total of 20, so another 300 of his men were there. That left him with more than 5,000 workers dedicated entirely to construction.

The rest of the men were divided between construction, either building the towers or laying the foundations. The construction of the castle constantly required 3,000 men.

The two remaining towers had already been demolished. The foundations, both for the towers and the walls connecting them, had already been excavated, and now the men were busy pouring stone and mortar into them. He ordered them to throw in bricks with runes to improve the foundations. The men shrugged and obeyed.

Children and women were running back and forth, carrying small materials and food, which increased the efficiency of the construction.

The construction of the dragon tower required 500 men, and they had barely begun to excavate. Dany also requested 200 men to turn the Bear Pit into a water reservoir. She planned to expand it and build walls on the land. His wife also asked that another 500 men be hired to dig an artificial lake in the area where the castle would be expanded.

It was a huge, deep lake that could store almost a million cubic meters of water.

The rest of the men were outside, digging the expansion of the outer walls. Their former 80 acres of land would expand to 120 acres. A considerable amount, but in times of war, it would enable them to keep a large portion of their population safe.

Not all the black stone would be suitable for the expansion, but they would supplement it with fired brick. That wall could be built after the castle.

Once completed, the outer walls would form a rectangle measuring approximately 1,800 feet by 2,300 feet. His castle would cover a total of 9 acres, minus the 20 acres of the gods' forest, leaving him with 91 acres of free space, an enormous amount of land where he would grow crops and make room for refugees when war came to his doorstep. Of that space, about ten acres would be for the smithies and their forges, the stable, the armory, and the Dragon Tower.

He also needed to build barracks for his soldiers. He planned to maintain an army of at least ten thousand, which required approximately sixteen acres of land. But if he built three-story barracks, he could reduce that space to about six acres.

Jaehaerys held his chin as he thought.

He had another option, which was to build several fortresses outside his castle throughout his lands and distribute his armies among them. He could keep about two or three thousand men near his castle and send about seven thousand away to keep the peace in his lands.

His land was one of the most extensive in the area. It covered a total of a million acres. However, it was not so densely populated. Banditry was prominent, and he had already heard about how newcomers had fallen victim to it.

He ordered a hundred soldiers to be sent out on patrol, but they were insufficient. To send out more men would mean leaving the castle and the village, where most of the people lived, unprotected.

Brandon should return soon. Jaehaerys had exchanged letters with Lord William Mooton of Maidenpool. In the letters, he asked him to let Brandon pass, as he would be bringing men from the east. The man agreed to his request in exchange for the right to buy 15 of his ships for 400 gold dragons each. The man wanted to experience sailing the Trident. Jaehaerys did not refuse. It was less than they were worth, but if they went another way, his men would take a long time to arrive.

From Maidenpool to ArgentStone, it was almost a two-week journey. Considering it was a vast army, it would be about three weeks. The problem was that there was no road between the two settlements. Building roads was something he would think about when he had more men.

The other option was to go to King's Landing and march along the royal road. It would probably take them a week less to get there. But the king could block their passage and request his presence at court.

Brandon could also go to White Harbor and disembark there. But he would have to pass through the Freys.

"Perhaps Brandon will get a wife, then." Walder Frey lacked courage and had too many descendants.

Maidenpool was the most viable option; they would already be halfway there by the time his brother found out. With that small army, he would be a considerable threat. It gave him the confidence to face armies. Even his dragons could now be used in battle. They couldn't roast entire armies, but their value in instilling fear was unquestionable.

He would only fear Tywin Lannister's cavalry and infantry. But starting a war on that scale was impossible. He wondered how many would answer the king's call if he ordered a war against his younger brother for no reason. Rhaegar couldn't say, "It's a preventive measure" without looking afraid. It would make him look weak. No, his brother would begin to repress him.

It was unfortunate for Rhaegar that, in speaking with Lord Arryn, he found an inactive volcano in his mountains. It seemed illogical to him that there was not a single one in all of Westeros. Arryn, despite all the bad blood between their families, informed him of the existence of several volcanoes and said he was willing to trade.

It would be a problem now to have to pay for the ash, but he would no longer depend on his brother. The deception of the dragons served its purpose by buying him time. Now, with a real army, he was not an easy target.

Jaehaerys looked at the map that outlined his territory. It was rough and sparsely populated. The lands along the rivers suffered the most in wars. That is why they are not as rich as the Reach. He marked three points on the map. The five barracks for his soldiers would be built there, spread throughout his territory, not too close to the borders so as not to alert his neighbors.

"My prince," he heard someone knock on the door of his estate.

"Come in." It was a knight, one who had followed him since King's Landing. Some had deserted when they saw him worship pagan gods. But others remained out of admiration.

"There is a letter for you." The man held out a piece of paper folded into a rectangle. Jaehaerys thought about the need to build a paper mill, something he had put aside. He had enormous reserves. However, it could also provide an extra income for the Citadel. The letter was from his mother or Brandon.

'Brandon,' he thought when he saw the sender.

"You may leave." The man bowed and left.

The letter made him frown. It announced Brandon's arrival in Maidenpool and informed him of his journey. In addition to the Unsullied, he was bringing civilian slaves and a "surprise". He talked about Robert Baratheon's moves. According to the letter, Robert would face the Golden Company. He also warned him of a possible half-brother who was a bastard who rode elephants.

'Blackfyre'

The black dragon against the exiled stag. Jaehaerys hoped they would kill each other.

'Robert would never join a pretender, would he?' The doubt gave him a headache.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"Are you sure about those numbers, Jon?" The king looked as serious and melancholic as ever. But inside, he was boiling with rage.

"More than ten thousand soldiers. Most of them were Unsullied. They were also carrying slaves," said the griffin, bowing his head as if he blamed himself for not being able to sink the ships in the ocean.

Rhaegar looked around at the assembled council. Today, even Oberyn seemed interested in the meeting, although his position was usually more of a courtesy and an apology to Dorne for taking a second wife.

"Since they passed King's Landing, it means they will take another route, such as Maidenpool," said Pycelle, drawing out his words. Sometimes, Rhaegar wished he would fall down the stairs.

"We can send a letter to Lord William to prevent them from landing," Baelish said with his ever-present sharp smile.

"It would be useless," Aegon said. He had recovered well from the wound inflicted by the dragon. "By the time the letter arrives, his men will have already landed," he added.

"Although, surprisingly, we haven't sighted the fleet," said Paxter. He thought he had made a mistake in sending his daughter with the prince.

"They say it doesn't need to approach the coast to stay on course." Oberyn had his feet up on the table, seemingly unconcerned but attentive.

"It seems the Manderlys have achieved something interesting," said Petyr, scratching the small goatee on his chin.

"I don't think it was the Manderlys," Varys interjected. And everyone fell silent. No one liked the eunuch's voice being so low, but if they wanted to hear it, noise was not welcome. "The prince has already proven himself to be a brilliant mind."

"Perfumes and soaps don't make him brilliant," Jon complained, dismissing his words.

Varys reached into his tunic. A transparent cylinder-shaped bottle appeared between his fingers.

"More than the exquisite aromas of perfumes and soaps. I speak of this," he said, placing the bottle on the table.

Oberyn took it with a quick movement and began to inspect it. Although Cersei had acquired some of these famous perfumes, he had never paid any attention to them.

"A glass from Myr?" Connington scoffed.

"It's not from Myr," said Prince Martell, looking closely at the container. At the base were a J and a T, barely perceptible. "Jaehaerys Targaryen," he said as he passed it to Aegon's outstretched hand. "That's a little egocentric, even for me," he joked.

"Myr's glass is greenish, the prince's is transparent. It seems more refined and pure," said Varys.

"That makes it more dangerous, then. Why, having these creations, does he not share them with the crown?" asked Connington. "Your Grace, your brother has gone too far in bringing an entire army of eunuchs." He paused for a moment when he heard Varys clear his throat. "Slaves."

"This isn't the first time my brother has bought slaves and freed them," said Rhaegar, unable to hide his irritation. "Do you have anything to add, Lord Tarly?"

The master-at-arms had remained silent until that moment. He was listening. His mind absorbed the words as he related them to his eldest son growing up with Prince Jaehaerys.

"The Unsullied are the perfect army. And from what my son has told me, the outer walls of Harrenhal---"

"ArgentStone," Varys corrected. "It was renamed ArgentStone."

"ArgentStone!" The man's nostrils flared. "Its outer walls have already been repaired. Taking the fortress with the Unsullied inside would be an arduous task. Walls over 80 feet high." He seemed to rack his brains at the thought of an assault. "It is not wise."

"We can starve them out," Jon said.

"Along with Princess Visenya, Queen Lyanna, Princess Serena Martell, and as I hear it, Samwell Tarly and Desmera Redwyne are tenants at ArgentStone." The spider had a smile on his face. "And let's not forget the dragons."

No one spoke in favor of an assault after that. The loss of resources in attempting to take the castle was not feasible. They could besiege it for years, but that would endanger the king's daughter and his queen. The dragons could grow large enough to be a danger.

"My brother has done nothing unlawful. Right, Oberyn?" the king asked his brother-in-law.

"If it is not forbidden, it is permitted, Your Grace," interjected the Dornishman, master of laws.

"Then let us stop talking about him as a criminal," said Aegon. "While his actions may be interpreted as dangerous, they arise from the need to protect his dragons," he defended his uncle. Despite his words, his hand went to his chest.

Jaehaerys was not mentioned again except for Jon, who wanted to bring him to the capital to exploit his inventions. Although the griffin had no seat on the council after leaving his position as Hand, no one asked him to leave. Rhaegar knew that there were few people more loyal than he. Blinded by loyalty to the point of doing stupid things for him.

The meeting was adjourned, and the king and Connington remained in the council chamber.

"You said you had something to tell me?" Connington had taken the chair that Aegon had warmed, the one closest to the king.

"Yes, Your Grace. It's about the Golden Company and... my mission," he said secretively.

"Speak." The king made a move to take a jug of wine. But Connington, loyal as a dog, stepped forward.

"There are rumors of a bastard of King Aerys in the Golden Company." Connington had waited moons to tell him.

"I know. He is currently facing Robert Baratheon in the disputed lands." Connington's face fell as he poured wine.

"What? Ah, Varys," he replied to himself. "Do you confirm that this is true?"

"As real as any rumor about bastards," the king interjected. "I received a letter from the boy. A commander of the company brought it. Since he is fighting Robert, he asked me for resources." His soft, silky voice seduced Jon, who instinctively leaned toward him.

"And will you, my king?" he asked, his gaze mesmerized by those beautiful indigo eyes.

"I will. Even if he is not my bastard half-brother, he is fighting against Baratheon," he explained. And Jon nodded at his wisdom, without questioning it. "What about the other task?"

"The Faceless Men refused," he said quietly, his eyes looking at the prince's lips, colored red by wine. "I went to Qaarth to hire the Sorrowful Men. We should hear news soon."

"Was the gold not enough for the House of Black and White?" Seeing the king's frown gave Jon a stomachache.

"No. They said the traitor's life does not belong to the god of many faces." He seemed about to fall to his knees.

"And my sister?"

"They asked for Seven Kingdoms for her life," he recalled the assassin's words.

Rhaegar understood the price of a life. Everyone must die, but not all lives are of equal value. The more complicated a person is to kill, the higher the price. But it could also increase depending on that person's importance to the god of many faces. Daenerys' high price could come from her ability to hatch dragons.

Perhaps it was she, and not Jaehaerys, who was special.

"You did a good job, Jon." The prince allowed himself a small smile. "The prices at the House of Black and White are a mystery even to me." His hand caressed the lord's shoulder.

"If my prince asks." Sometimes, when Jon got excited, he made the mistake of calling him prince instead of king. "If the assassins don't work, I'll raise an army and take Harrenhal for you. I'll take the heads of the prince and princess, even if it makes me a traitor to the crown," the man swore enthusiastically.

"And where would I find such a loyal man, Jon?" whispered the king. "No. Could you do something else for me? The ships that carry ash from Dragonstone? Sink them---just two or three. I'll stop the supply."

"I know a pirate, my king." The griffin's hand felt bold and rested on the prince's thigh. "I will sink whatever ships you ask, my king."

"That is enough, Jon," said the prince, placing his hand over Jon's on his leg.

Connington rose immediately. He bowed exaggeratedly and almost ran out.

Rhaegar watched the fool leave. Connington was happy to touch him. The king didn't care. He knew that being a sodomite was frowned upon. Although for him, men and women were equal.

He felt no desire for either.

His only desire was to see the prophecy fulfilled.

'Why do you oppose me, brother?' thought the king, melancholy.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"Do you want to learn how to fight?" he asked the girl.

"Yes, Prince, please," said Serena Martell.

It was the first time she had approached him to ask him for something. He had made sure she had the best possible living conditions; he wanted to ease her pain a little.

"It's a little surprising that you don't know how to fight; your sisters are renowned warriors." The Sand Snakes were lethal and, despite their gender, were not to be taken lightly. "I didn't think your father wouldn't allow you to train."

"Father always let us choose. Because of my mother's words, I decided not to learn," she said. Her face was a mask of stone. "Because of my mother's words, I decided to remain silent," she added at the end, her voice unchanging.

"What weapon do you want to use?" He would not deny her request; he had no reason to.

"A three-section staff. That's what your weapon is called, right?" she said.

Jaehaerys' white eyebrows rose. No one had ever asked him to teach them how to fight directly. Although his weapon was imposing, once they tried to lift it and realized that one nasty blow would break their jaw, they discarded any attempt to use it.

They were both in the prince's manor. A Dornish soldier stood at the door, guarding against any indecent acts. Although he didn't seem to care much about the princess's chastity, probably no one in Dorne would care.

"Come, take it." He pointed to his weapon with his index finger. It hung on the wall, the whole staff beside it, and a giant axe accompanying them. Jaehaerys planned to make something like a sword breaker, adding a new weapon to his arsenal.

"It's heavy." The girl could barely carry it, making a considerable effort. She had never trained her body before, so it was no surprise.

"Choose another weapon," he said.

She looked at the weapon with a frown.

"No. I want to learn how to use it." She remained stubborn.

"You can't even lift it. Most men can't use it," he said, wanting to spare her feelings.

"I'm not a man," she replied.

"And you're not me either," he replied.

"Why are you so strong? Is it true that the gods blessed you?" she asked curiously.

"I don't know." His words were honest.

When he regained his memories, he only remembered the way he died. It was a rather silly death, actually.

It was in college. He was pursuing his umpteenth degree and planned to drop out at the end of that semester. Microbiology was boring.

You'd think the most dangerous thing in a microbiology lab would be the bacteria you work with, right? However, in reality, there was something else that posed a greater danger.

An autoclave. It's essentially a pressure cooker used to sterilize the materials you'll be working with. If it builds up enough pressure, it can explode.

That was precisely what happened that day. The lid flew off, and he barely had time to turn his head to see a piece of metal flying toward his head.

After that, his vision was blurred and his senses dulled. He was a baby again.

He didn't know why he was reincarnated. It was over the years that he discovered he was... better than an ordinary man. Faster, stronger, smarter. His strength was not logical in any way. Not even the fastest sprinters in his previous life ran as fast as he did, and the strongest men couldn't hold a candle to him.

"And... can't it be lighter?" asked the girl.

Jaehaerys thought about it. Initially, a three-section staff weighed much less. It was made of wood, not metal, and weighed about three pounds.

Although he thought it would be a hassle to teach her personally.

"It can be fixed," he agreed. He had tried to teach Daenerys how to use a weapon other than a dagger, but the princess didn't want to. He taught her to use a dagger as well as he could, but it was never a bad idea to know how to use a weapon.

If he taught someone else, a woman, his wife would probably ask him to teach her, too.

"Thank you, Prince," the girl curtsied prettily.

The only good thing she inherited from her mother was her manners. Cersei really took pains to make her daughter a perfect princess, in every sense of the word.

"First, you will learn to wield a wooden staff," he began.

He had a three-section staff forged at the beginning, only to learn that it was actually too difficult to imitate Toji.

So, he first learned to use a staff, then nunchucks, and finally the three-section staff, known in Japanese as Sansetsukon.

He was mainly self-taught; beyond a few videos he had seen, he knew very little about the subject. Perhaps if he had lived longer, he would have enrolled in a martial arts school to learn it.

Leaving his career behind once again, he was already quite good at wasting his life.

'Not this one,' he said to himself.

"Why?" asked the girl.

"You need it. After learning from the staff, you will progress to a two-section staff, and then you will be able to use the three-section staff. I must warn you, it is a weapon that can hurt you." She looked at him, blinking rapidly.

"Pain?" she asked rhetorically.

He took a deep breath.

'I suppose few things are more painful than being abused by your family, even having your own mother as your brother's accomplice,' thought the prince.

"I'll have one for you soon. I'll ask you to familiarize yourself with it," the prince dismissed her with those words.

She seemed to understand. She bowed and left.

'A broken doll,' he thought. 'At least she wanted to do something on her own now.' Before, she was doing nothing, just existing.

In a way, he could identify with her. In his previous life...

"My prince." A knight arrived to deliver a message.

When Jaehaerys allowed him to enter, he immediately knelt.

"Speak, Ser." The prince poured him a glass of water out of courtesy. The man had come running.

It was unusual for someone of higher status to do such a thing. Some would say it was unseemly, but the man looked at him with gratitude and devotion. He was a follower of the Seven, but not even the weirwood could dent his loyalty to Jaehaerys.

"Brandon, Brandon has returned. Thousands of men have been spotted; your blazon stands among them," said the man. He added no titles, though Jaehaerys would make Brandon a lord at some point.

"When will they arrive?" asked Jaehaerys.

"Tomorrow before noon," the man replied quickly.

"Drink." Jaehaerys handed him the cup. The man looked at him, about to refuse, but something in the prince's posture made him obey.

He drank the water slowly, not wanting to risk choking in front of the prince, which would be the shame of his life.

Jaehaerys offered him his hand to help him stand up.

"Your name was Symon, wasn't it?" The man opened his eyes wide and stood still when he was recognized. Not even in his wildest dreams did he think that the prince would remember a knight errant like him.

Jaehaerys helped him to his feet with ease.

"Yes, my pin- my prince, your highness, forgive me," the man bowed his head.

"It is satisfying to have good men in ArgentStone," said the prince, patting the man on the shoulder. "Can you spread the word about Brandon's arrival?" he asked.

"Y-Yes!" the man almost shouted in front of him. "I will, my prince." He left the room so quickly that even the soldier, who was guarding outside, was startled.

'A real army,' he thought with a smile.

Infantry. He still had to get archers and horsemen. He wondered if the Unsullied could ride horses or shoot bows; if so, they would be incredibly versatile.

He had never heard of such activities being carried out by the army of eunuchs, but he would have time to find out.

Before, he would have been afraid to bring such a large army of slaves into Westeros, but now he had brought slaves into his castle. Few lords rose against him.

Most sought to ingratiate themselves, flattering him for freeing the slaves from the clutches of the Essosi.

He was initially concerned about the red priests, but it was possible that R'hllor could not see inside his castle. Jaehaerys had done everything possible to ensure that this was the case. It was also possible that the god wanted the army to fall into Daenerys's hands, as in the canon.

Either way, it didn't matter; the Unsullied were at his gates.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Brandon brought not only an army of Unsullied, but also a defeated mercenary company. It wasn't just any company; it was the Company of Roses. The man had forgotten to mention that in his letters.

The massive army attracted attention from all sides. The workers, the merchants, everyone paid attention.

The Unsullied moved as one man, like a perfect machine, designed to obey. The only army with more discipline would be that of the dead on the other side of the Wall.

Jaehaerys could imagine the cries of the lords, but he couldn't care less. He had an army, he had dragons. All that was missing was his castle. By that time, the foundations were already complete. Three of the seven towers were already built. Construction on Daenerys' library was about to begin.

It had been a challenge to find the right conditions, but with the towers already built, he ordered a harness system to be created for the workers.

Brick production was sufficient at that point.

Jaehaerys looked at his army and even thought about putting them to work. It was not uncommon in times of peace for armies to assist in civilian development.

The prince decided to put men on patrol and assigned the rest to construction. Other lords might consider him foolish, Tywin foremost among them. But he did not care; if it increased construction speed, he would not hesitate to use them.

The men patrolling brought peace to their lands, and with that, he hoped that migration would increase even more.

"Brandon," he greeted as he approached, the man riding alongside a beautiful woman with gray-blue eyes and silver hair.

Jaehaerys wanted to arrange a marriage between Brandon and one of Walder Frey's ugliest daughters, perhaps Lady "Fat" Walda Frey.

"My prince." The man made a move to kneel.

Jaehaerys allowed his knee to touch the ground for a second before reaching out to help him to his feet. The woman beside Brandon only bowed her head slightly.

"I think you forgot to mention a few things, Brandon," the prince said as he reached out his hand to the woman.

She was dressed in leather. She was beautiful, but she did not appear to be a maiden. When she took his hand, he could feel the calluses from wielding a weapon.

"This is Rowena Stark," Brandon introduced her, with a smile, as if he expected Jaehaerys to go mad.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Stark," he said, not bowing to kiss her hand; the woman gave him the impression of hating courtesies.

"The pleasure is mine, My Prince," she replied. "Brandon has spoken wonders of you. You are as attractive as he describes," she teased the young bastard a little.

"It's nice to see that Brandon remembers me on his loneliest nights. Although it's a little disturbing," joked the prince. "Men with extravagant tastes can rise high, Brandon, but not with me. I'm sure I could find a knight willing to crown you in tournaments." Brandon's face turned green.

"Well, no, that's not happening," denied the bastard of Manderly. "Here, take this." He handed him a leather whip. "This controls all the ball-less men back there. I'm going to find Torrhen." He left quickly, leaving the woman with Jaehaerys.

The prince looked at the army. They had a spear, a shield, and light leather armor. Their faces showed no reaction---only coldness.

"Dany, you can take Miss Rowena inside. I'm sure Lyanna could find common ground with her." His wife had remained by his side.

Perhaps that was why Brandon didn't say anything extremely vulgar. The man somehow had an impeccable reputation with Daenerys and didn't seem to want to change that.

Both women left quickly. Daenerys tried to talk to the leader of the Company of Roses. The woman was rude and, besides mocking Brandon, was not very talkative.

The woman arrived with six hundred men, who separated from the Unsullied and were now camped outside the castle walls. Brandon had brought another two thousand purchased slaves, who looked at him with indifference.

The Unsullied were not like other men, not in any way. They underwent hellish training to become what they were. The men who trained them were devoid of even the slightest bit of empathy.

Trained from a young age, they endured pain, exhaustion, and hunger. Those who couldn't endure it were no longer among the living.

Jaehaerys remembered that their last training session, something like their graduation, consisted of taking a baby from a slave woman and killing it in front of its mother. It was cruel, but they couldn't refuse, or rather, they didn't have the capacity to refuse.

Among the slaves, there were two types: those who were enslaved and those who were born slaves. The first group would be the most difficult to keep, while the second was almost 100% certain to stay with him.

He had thought about how to avoid the issue of slavery. He could ignore it before, say that they were free men, and that was that; no one would question it. But with such a large army, he couldn't. He had to say it publicly. Both to avoid problems and to gain the loyalty of the Unsullied.

"Everyone!" he shouted. His voice broke the silence like a hammer striking glass---the eyes of the slave warriors fixed on him. "Days before your arrival, I gave an order, a new law. All those who set foot in ArgentStone will be free," he continued. He got no reaction from the immaculate ones. "If you had a family, if you had a place to go, you are free to leave. I'll find a way to help you," he said sincerely, although deep down he hoped no one would leave.

He couldn't keep them there against their will, even though he appreciated their obedience.

"If you stay here, I'll give you a home, I'll give you food, I'll give you purpose," he proclaimed. He watched as some of them looked at him as if nothing had happened, indifferent. "I don't want slaves under my command. I'll have free people. Free warriors." His speech might not have worked.

His argument was weak. They didn't know him. They probably didn't know his name; he was just another owner.

"I want to create a world where there are no slaves, where no mothers are crying because their child was murdered. I want to create a world full of peace," he said at the end. "If you want to stay here, under my command, under my rules, under my protection. If you want to help me create that new world: Take a step forward."

To his delight, most of them did. Only a few of the ordinary slaves remained where they were. He would deal with them later.

"This." He raised the whip. "It's just a reminder of your slavery. You don't obey whips. You are free." He shattered the whip in his hands, the leather splitting apart like freshly baked bread.

The Unsullied began to beat their spears on their shields. The thunderous noise ended with the civilian slaves pounding their fists on their chests to show their support somehow.

They were slaves, at the end of the day. Despite what Jaehaerys said, not all of them had a place to belong. The best he could do was give them a better quality of life.

Jaehaerys had already ordered barracks to be built for the Unsullied, although for now they would have to camp outside the walls. His plans included building several outposts throughout his lands.

At that moment, he needed to speak with Brandon to obtain a more accurate report. And probably negotiate with Rowena.

There was also Lord Manderly, who was traveling to ArgentStone. Apparently, he had spent too much time in Maidenpool and was unable to accompany them. Probably Brandon just left him behind.

Jaehaerys did not particularly enjoy politics, but that was the way it was.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"This castle used to be called Harrenhal, right?" Rowena commented as they walked.

The Stark's eyes scanned the castle, scrutinizing it as if trying to memorize it completely. That put Daenerys on guard.

"It was. It was built by Harren the Black. It was destroyed by Aegon the First's dragon," Dany said.

"Dragons. Even on the other side of the Narrow Sea, there are rumors about your dragons, princess. One black, one white, and one copper." The woman's eyes begged for information.

"They are magnificent. It is a joy to have them back," Dany couldn't help but smile.

"A joy for the Targaryens," the woman remarked.

A tense silence followed between them.

"A joy for Jaehaerys and me, for ArgentStone," said the princess.

The woman looked at the three enormous towers already built. Two twin towers and a larger one behind them. She couldn't help but let out a sigh of admiration.

"Each of those towers must be larger than the Titan of Braavos," the woman remarked.

"The small ones are 500 feet tall, and the largest is 600 feet tall," she said proudly.

Dany felt incredible when she saw the admiring glances of all who visited her castle. She couldn't wait to see when the entire castle was complete.

The dragon tower had only just begun to have its foundations dug. Daenerys would like it to rise above all the other towers, taller than the lighthouse of Oldtown, taller than the Wall.

But according to Jaehaerys, it was better for the tower to be built wider, although with enough dragons it might be necessary to increase its size until it touched the clouds.

"I must admit that I have only seen the pyramids in Meereen as something taller. Although given the way they are built, they cannot be compared," began the warrior.

Dany did not know who she really was, only that she was leading a group of men and women. They were probably a mercenary company.

"May I ask about Essos, Lady Rowena?" asked the princess.

"What would you like to know, princess?" Daenerys led her to a weirwood, and the woman's eyes widened as she looked at the enormous tree.

It could easily go unnoticed, as people's eyes tend to be drawn naturally to the towers. But the tree in the middle of the castle was undoubtedly the largest weirwood Daenerys had ever seen. However, Jaehaerys said that the one at Winterfell was still a little bigger.

"About that young man, my supposed bastard brother." Brandon's letter days ago had warned them of the presence of a supposed offspring of King Aerys.

Jaehaerys frowned as he read the letter, as if he had swallowed a jug of his own whiskey in one gulp.

"Ah, Aegon. I know little about him. He appeared in the Golden Company, and it was his Targaryen blood that allowed him to rise quickly. They say he is a skilled and cunning boy, and he has led the company to victory in more than one battle," explained the woman. "They speak of him with such passion. They even compared him to the Warrior," the woman teased a little.

"Don't you think he's that good?" asked the princess.

"He's good. According to the news we got from the Disputed Lands, he fought the Stag and came out alive; he even managed to wound him." The woman spat out Stag as if saying that name burned her mouth.

"The dragon bastard." Daenerys had heard that nickname.

"I hear some call him the Dragon Knight. I believe you Targaryens had that title before, didn't you?" the woman asked.

"Yes, Aemon Targaryen, the brother of Aegon the Unworthy," said the princess.

Her brother's story seemed strange. He came out of nowhere and rose quickly in a company of mercenaries. The princess hoped her brother Rhaegar wasn't stupid enough to trust him. She had heard that envoys from the Golden Company had arrived in King's Landing, and the king himself had granted them a private audience, although the details were unknown.

"So many Aegons, it gets a little confusing," the northern woman commented lightly. However, Daenerys could see in her as much Valyrian blood as that of the First Men.

"Yes, it's a nightmare. I spoke with Jaehaerys, and we agreed that none of our children will be named after the conqueror," she said with a smile. Her hand moved to her belly.

'Until the castle is built,' she thought. It was for her safety. Although she knew it was also Jaehaerys' fear that she would not be able to endure the pregnancy.

She remembered that after the dragons were born, she hadn't had her blood moon. She ended by praying to the old gods to get pregnant. But her blood moon hadn't returned.

"I didn't expect to find a weirwood in the middle of your castle. I thought you worshipped the Seven." The woman picked up a leaf from the ground. Red as blood, it glistened in the sunlight.

Daenerys looked at the moat around the tree. It was empty, but soon it would be filled with water drawn from the Gods Eye. She had been designing a kind of system to transport water. She could order it to be filled by carrying buckets, but she wanted to speed up the work. Besides, they were already using water to make mortar, and using it to fill the ditch would delay the work.

"My husband grew up in the North. In his words, a part of the North came with him. That includes the old gods," said the princess. Thinking of the North reminded her of Sansa Stark.

"So you, princess, worship the new ones?"

"No. When I prayed, I could only feel the presence of the old ones," she said.

"I see... the gods never answered my prayers," the woman said bitterly.

"They answer from time to time. Not always," Daenerys said.

Both women sat down on one of the benches around the weirwood tree. To do so, they crossed one of the makeshift wooden bridges. Around the tree, there was a radius of one hundred feet to where the ditch began, which was about ten feet deep and fifteen feet wide.

The five Unsullied who followed Daenerys walked alongside them, but did not come too close. The woman next to Dany was unarmed.

"You're a mercenary, right? Brandon didn't mention anything about you," said the princess.

"I am. I'm the leader of the Company of Roses," explained the woman with her eyes closed.

The princess wondered for a moment if Rowena was going to fall asleep there, in front of the weirwood tree, which certainly seemed like a good place to do so.

"Stark, are you a descendant of Brandon Snow, the bastard half-brother of King Torrhen Stark?" asked the princess.

"No. Brandon's descendants are all dead. They never dared to take the Stark name. No, I am a descendant of Torrhen Stark, son of Edric, who was the son of Cregan Stark," the woman explained.

There had been several members of prominent houses who had been forgotten. If the members of the houses do not die, it can cause problems in the succession. That is why some members choose to leave home, either to avoid getting involved in the drama or to pursue better opportunities in life.

"I suppose he joined the Company of the Rose over a hundred years ago," Daenerys added, just to say something. "The Stark name carries enormous weight in Westeros; they are one of the oldest and most respected houses," commented the princess.

"I heard they rebelled years ago. They were sent back to their frozen lands," the woman continued, her eyes still closed. There was no emotion in her voice. To her, the Starks were distant relatives she was unfamiliar with.

"They took my father with them. Right now, he's still on the Wall, paying for his crimes," said the princess. She was no stranger to the cruelty with which her father terrorized all of Westeros.

"Ha! A king paying for his crimes. Why didn't he make his crimes legal?" asked the woman, with a hint of mockery. It was more of a rhetorical question.

"Because the people will fight against him," said Daenerys, although the question was more for humor than anything else. "Because a ruler can only pressure his vassals until they decide they can put someone else in his place."

The woman opened her eyes wide to look at the princess.

"That way of thinking could lead to you no longer being a princess."

"I know. That's why I believe that rulers must be fair. Not only because we owe it to the people, but because they are the reason we rule," said the princess.

"You have dragons," Rowena said as she stood up.

"I have them. But I would prefer never to use them." Dany closed her eyes. She remembered how, in the Dance during a riot in King's Landing, the smallfolk ended up killing a dragon. Dragons were a formidable weapon, although it pained her to see her children used in such a manner, a superior one but not infallible.

"Princess, my Lady, the prince requested your presence at his manor." A knight approached them both.

Daenerys stood up, thanked him with a smile, and began to walk away.

Just as she passed the man, she heard, "I'm so sorry."

She barely had time to react when the tip of a spear sprouted from the man's leg. Strong arms pulled her away from the man.

"Agh!" the man roared. He looked back to see an Unsullied standing over him, his spear embedded in the man's leg.

"Drop it," said the Unsullied.

Daenerys heard something fall to the grass. She caught a glimpse of steel glinting.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

The man sent by the Sorrowful Men guild had the misfortune of remaining alive after attempting to assassinate the lady of the castle.

Jaehaerys had never experimented on humans. He preferred other areas of science, such as chemistry. But at times, he was quite tempted to join Qyburn.

"What is your name?" he asked the Unsullied who had pierced the man's leg.

"Red Cockroach." The names of the Unsullied were linked to vermin, to remind them of their place.

"Before the slavers gave you that name, do you remember what you were called?" he asked again.

"This never had a name," said the Unsullied.

"What do you think of Rodrick?" asked the prince.

"This doesn't know any Rodrick..."

"I'm giving you a name. The man who saved my wife's life will not be known as Red Cockroach," said the prince. "Rodrick, is that alright with you?"

The man clenched his teeth. He looked confused and moved. He tried to appear indifferent but failed.

"This one doesn't need a---"

"But you want it," said the prince. "You will be Rodrick. The Unsullied are free men now. Please spread the word, they don't need to keep the names given to them by the slavers; they can choose their own. I can't give names to eight thousand people, I hope the others don't feel I despise them," said the prince.

The Unsullied stood still for a few seconds. He was still struggling to process what was happening. For a long time, he didn't even consider himself human. He was born a slave, trained as a slave, and lived as a slave. He even expected to die as a slave. Having a name had never crossed his mind; it was a luxury he never considered necessary.

Even when he entered the prince's service, he did not consider himself completely free. When he defended Daenerys, he did so because it was his duty as her bodyguard.

Of course, he considered the prince and princess to be better masters; they provided him with food and a place to rest. They did not send him on tasks he did not want to do. They did not order him to kill children or hurt the elderly, nor did they look at him as an object. But even with all that, he still considered them his masters. Having a name had never crossed his mind; it was a luxury he never regarded as necessary.

But somehow he liked it.

Now he was "Rodrick." He murmured the name; it tasted sweet on his lips.

"Is there anything you desire, Rodrick?" asked the prince. "You can ask for anything you want," he said sincerely.

"I... want... to protect," he answered like a machine.

He felt honored to have a name, to transition from being "It" to being "He."

He felt he should die protecting Prince Jaehaerys or Princess Daenerys.

"I will order them to give you a better spear," said the prince.

"It is unnecessary, my prince."

"With it, you will better protect my wife. I entrust her safety to you," said the prince.

The Unsullied stood up straight as an arrow. Previously, the Unsullied took turns protecting the prince and princess, but now he would be a permanent guard to protect the princess.

"I am honored."

"Just as you have honored my house, I hope to return the favor," said the prince humbly. "Daenerys is at the training camp with Rowena. You can start your duty right now," said the prince.

The man bowed deeply before leaving. It was not the first time he had bowed before Jaehaerys, but it was the first time the prince truly felt that he was doing so out of genuine respect and not out of habit.

He gave him a name and put him to work. That would help him earn more of his loyalty and that of the other Unsullied. Even if they never interacted directly with him, his goal was for them to feel valued and part of ArgentStone.

That did not mean he did not feel deep gratitude toward the man. That was why he had decided to give him a better weapon than the one he had.

The Unsullied, renamed Rodrick, had saved Daenerys. If the man had asked for his weight in silver, he would have given it to him without hesitation. Jaehaerys was a proud man, and that included rewarding those who served him well.

"Sorrowful Men." He knew that group of assassins. "I am so sorry" was the phrase they said before attempting to kill their target. In the canon, they had been seeking Daenerys' death.

Jaehaerys learned from his man in Braavos that Jon Connington visited the House of Black and White and left there quite angry.

Probably the price on Jaehaerys' head was too high for the crown to pay. That's why he had to resort to second-rate assassins.

The assassin had tried to kill Daenerys while several men-at-arms surrounded her. It might seem pretty stupid, but in reality, he had left him no other choice. Getting close to the princess was already quite an uncommon feat. The security around her was pretty good. He would have had few better opportunities.

He could try to poison her, but that would be useless. Or kill her from a distance, but the Unsullied kept a fairly tight watch. Besides, Daenerys rarely went outdoors; she usually only went to the weirwood, where a reasonably wide perimeter was formed.

That desperate attempt was his best option.

And what was most worrying was that he could have succeeded.

The necklace Jaehaerys had given Dany, the one that was supposed to detect evil intentions, had not worked.

Somehow, the Sorrowful Men could evade the detection of magic.

"I am so sorry," they always apologized.

Jaehaerys had two principal theories. One was that the amulet did not detect evil intentions because they did not exist. The man truly felt a deep sadness as he carried out his murderous goal.

Another was that they knew some kind of magic capable of nullifying the artifact's power. It could come from two different organizations: The House of the Undying, the main headquarters of the sorcerers, was in Qaarth. They were actual practitioners of magic, so it would not be unexpected for them to have some magic to hide themselves.

There was also R'hllor. But that seemed less likely, unless it were one of the priestesses who followed Rhaegar, they would not give magic to attack Daenerys. The red god wanted something from Jaehaerys' wife.

The second option was troubling because it opened up the possibility that these magical organizations already knew about Jaehaerys's ability to manipulate magic and create artifacts. That would take away his advantage and make him an even bigger target. However, it was also possible that the magic was to ward off the dragons.

Unknowns, unknowns.

Jaehaerys left his Solar; he needed to see Daenerys, not talk to her. He just wanted to see her. It made him a little uncomfortable not to see her and to know that an assassin could appear at any moment.

He had already begun to research the most advanced books on magic. If the detection artifacts did not work, he had to create better ones, and for that, he needed a greater knowledge of magic.

There was a small training ground near his mansion. Many men were there. Both the northerners and knights from King's Landing who had come with him, as well as the newly arrived mercenaries and Unsullied.

It seemed they were taking turns keeping watch. The discipline of the Unsullied appeared to rub off on the other men, who attempted to emulate their exact positions and behaviors.

"I can't be worse than a man without balls," they seemed to want to shout.

His wife was training with Rowena. The former captain was teaching her fencing with a small sword. Yesterday's assassination attempt had awakened in Daenerys a greater desire to learn how to fight.

Jaehaerys was not skilled with the sword, so he wouldn't be the best teacher, which is why he entrusted Brandon with the task, who, in turn, entrusted it to Rowena. The woman was a skilled swordswoman, despite her preference for her mace.

Dany didn't have a good foundation, but she did have a decent physique, at least much better than Samwell's, moons ago.

Rowena was not playing; she gave her no chances, correcting her posture gracefully, without resorting to the vulgarity that some male instructors might fall into. Perhaps because she was talking to a princess or because she was in a public place, she did not want to dishonor Daenerys.

Rowena had reached an agreement with Jaehaerys: her men and a group of Unsullied would go out to hunt bandits in the prince's lands. That would be their primary task at that time. The prince gave them some freedom so that their group could gradually integrate into the castle.

Daenerys looked at her husband and smiled. The smile was so genuine that the other men turned in his direction.

Brandon was nearby. He looked at the prince on the battlefield and turned pale.

"Brandon!" the prince shouted as the man turned to leave. "Shall we train?" The northern man's face fell.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Brandon was a formidable warrior. He truly was. Few men could fight him. He and Torrhen were similarly skilled, although Brandon's aggressiveness led him to win most fights against his brother.

But normal men were one thing, and Jaehaerys Targaryen was quite another. Brandon could fight Ser Barristan and last quite a while until the old knight found an opening and ended the duel.

But when he trained with the prince, the match lasted as long as Jaehaerys Targaryen wanted it to last. The fight was not fair at the beginning, in the middle, or at the end. No, Jaehaerys crushed him with brute force.

He didn't use his three-section staff, nor the whole staff. He used to use a pole from a spear with the tip removed to avoid hurting his men.

And Brandon was grateful for that.

"Are you giving up?" Jaehaerys asked. Brandon was on the ground, holding his leg. It was a training exercise; he wasn't wearing armor, and the blow knocked him down quickly.

'If I had been wearing armor, that stick would have broken,' thought Snow.

'If he had used a real weapon, I wouldn't be able to walk again,' the man reconsidered.

Jaehaerys didn't want to train that day. At least that wasn't his intention when he approached. He wanted to make sure Daenerys was okay.

He found himself taking a step back, letting another wooden stick strike the air where he had been before.

"Stop!" he ordered his men, who had drawn their swords and were about to attack the aggressor.

"Oh!" Serena looked at the steel and was frightened.

Jaehaerys had given her permission to strike him at any moment, if she could get close enough to do so.

It was part of a bet between the two of them. Jaehaerys told her that he would not train her in the use of the staff; he would only begin to train her when she moved on to using a two-segment staff.

The girl was not happy with that, saying that no one could teach her to do such a thing. He pointed out that the spearmen were capable of teaching her; it was not the same, but it could serve as a basis.

Serena did not want to accept this, so she asked him to give her a task she could complete, which would convince him to train her from the beginning.

She was not exactly rude; in fact, she was quite diplomatic in making the offer. Jaehaerys would have looked immature if he had refused.

Since then, she had been attacking him at different times of the day. At first, she had been more honorable, appearing, announcing herself, and then launching an attack. When she realized that this would not work, she drew on her Dornish heritage.

She began to ambush him. All of them failed. Jaehaerys knew that the girl was still training with the spear with one of her Dornish bodyguards, but even so, she persisted in trying to hit him. It was no longer because she wanted him to train her; at that point, it was more a matter of pride than anything else.

Jaehaerys would never allow a fourteen-year-old girl who had started training a week ago to hit him. He was proud, too.

"Ouch!" the girl cried out when he lightly tapped her wrist with the wooden stick.

The blow still landed, but he could see that she had made an effort to avoid it this time. She was good, quite good, and it was no surprise, given that she had the blood of great warriors running through her veins. In the last attempt to ambush him, Jaehaerys made her drop the stick by hitting her wrist, but this time she managed to keep hold of the weapon and almost dodged the blow.

She attacked again, the staff dancing awkwardly in her hands. She was new, and she had the potential to learn. But until that moment, it was just that, potential. She made desperate but somehow successful attacks. Jaehaerys blocked them all, wasting no time dodging; it wasn't necessary.

"Are you tired already?" he asked the girl, who was breathing heavily.

The physique of a warrior is not built in one night.

Unless you are Jaehaerys Targaryen.

Serena took a deep breath to calm down. The wooden stick in her hand was not particularly heavy, but at that moment, she found it quite challenging to move.

For the first time, the girl wondered if it was a good idea to learn how to fight from the prince. It was a unique fighting style, yes, but it wasn't the only one she could practice. The truth was that she wasn't that interested in fighting. The only reason she wanted to learn how to fight was because she never wanted to feel a man on top of her again, in any way possible.

She would kill Joffrey if he ever tried anything like that to her again. Maybe she would even kill him even if he didn't try anything. He was a bastard who didn't deserve to live.

But he was still her brother. Mom would be sad.

'But she never got sad when she saw me crying,' thought the princess.

Cersei used to turn a blind eye when she found her crying. She didn't come to comfort her, at least not right away. It was later, after giving her moon tea, that she would tell her that the family would be ruined and infamy would fall upon them if they found out about the things her older brother did to her. Serena kept quiet for that very reason. Her mother was good at convincing her not to talk.

'Perhaps she could have convinced Joffrey to leave me alone. But she didn't even try.

"Serena." The wooden staff in her hand moved toward where she heard the voice.

Her wrist hurt when the cane stopped abruptly. She looked where it had struck, blinking several times to focus, not realizing when she had started crying. She looked at the piece of wood stuck in the prince's hand. He wasn't looking at her with anger, only concern.

"I'm sorry," she apologized as she dropped her weapon as if it were burning her palm.

She remained silent, waiting for a reprimand.

"You hit me in the end," she heard the prince say. She knew where this was going.

"I don't need pity, Prince Jaehaerys," she said quickly, perhaps even sharply. "I'll find a better way to hit you." She didn't want to take something she didn't deserve.

"Start running with Sam; it will help you endure more," the prince advised.

She had watched Qyburn's fat apprentice run around the castle. At first, she felt a little sorry for him, but gradually, she developed a little respect. The man had initially been so wide that he could have taken up the space of two or three men, but now, although he was still a little fat, he was much better than before.

The knights said he would never be an excellent warrior, but he could learn to defend himself.

Samwell himself was there on the training ground. He was sweating profusely. She felt Jaehaerys push her toward the fat man.

That made her nervous. It wasn't that she had never spoken to the boy before, but she used to think carefully and choose her words with meticulous care. She would first go over possible conversations in her mind before having them in real life. Being pushed so abruptly took her out of her comfort zone.

"Uh," she stammered. Samwell turned to look at her. They weren't strangers, but they had barely exchanged words. He tried to talk to her, but when she didn't respond, he walked away. He was still friendly, though. "When run... where?" The girl wanted Jaehaerys to punch her in the face with all his might.

She heard other men laughing behind Sam. None of them too loudly.

Samwell thought for long seconds. "Sunrise... here?" The boy pointed at the ground, referring to the training field.

She didn't know if he was making fun of her, although, knowing the young man, it was unlikely.

"Now he thinks I'm an idiot," she thought, although she also considered it a little sweet how the man seemed to want to imitate her stupid way of communicating.

"Fine," she said, turning around and leaving the training ground, her faithful guard following her, a little worried.

"That was a little cruel," said Daenerys, looking at her husband with narrowed eyes. "She has enough difficulty speaking, especially to men."

"Is that so?" Jaehaerys was surprised. He considered the girl rough, but not necessarily awkward when speaking. "I never noticed her being nervous when she spoke to me."

"She feels safe with you. You indirectly rescued her from her hell," explained Daenerys. Although she never heard directly from the girl or Jaehaerys what Serena had suffered, she could deduce it from her behavior.

"I see..." The man was a little moved.

Jaehaerys ran a hand through Daenerys' hair, which was short but beginning to take shape. Sweat had left it damp, so the princess quickly pulled away.

The short hair gave the princess a different look, as if she were tougher.

"Rowena." The woman watched the exchange from the side. "Are you sure you're leaving with your men? You can appoint someone to lead them," said the prince.

"I am their leader, Prince Jaehaerys," she said. "I want to make sure that the bandits are completely exterminated and that my men maintain their respect for me. I lost quite a few when I agreed to join you. Others have faith, but they doubt me," the woman explained.

"I understand. If you find very young bandits, give them a chance to live. Unless they have committed atrocities or seem irredeemable," he requested. Part of the banditry was due to the poor living conditions of the smallfolk. It wasn't that he would let them go free; he would find a way to punish them.

But a dead man was useless, so it was better to give them a chance to atone for their sins.

"I will, my prince." The woman nodded. "Princess, I hope you will be better with the sword by the time I return." She nodded toward Daenerys. The princess smiled at the woman.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Lyarra. That was the name of Lord Eddard Stark's mother. A northern name, a strong name. Eddard remembered his mother as a woman of strong character, as well as a homemaker. She was dedicated to her duty, but she also loved each of her children.

Lyarra. That was the name Ashara chose for her daughter with Lord Eddard---the same name as the child's grandmother. Ned was happy when he heard the news. A bitter happiness. He would have done anything to marry Ashara.

'If only Brandon were alive,' he used to think bitterly.

It wasn't that he hated his current life; in fact, he was pretty happy. The wounds of the rebellion healed with each of his children. Lady Catelyn was a kind and devoted woman, charming and deeply committed to her family. Despite the origins of their marriage, Eddard had grown to love her over time. How could he not? She had given him five beautiful children and was pregnant with the sixth.

Eddard had long since stopped dreaming of Ashara. But he could never stop dreaming of his daughter. A bastard, yes, but his blood. He couldn't imagine her face; he didn't dare. He had only heard basic things about her. A woman with olive skin, tanned by the Dornish sun, beautiful like her mother. More southern than northern, with mismatched eyes, purple and gray.

Eddard had dishonored Lyarra's mother. He had taken her without being her lord and husband and had left her pregnant with a bastard. It was not the first time he had felt guilty about it. Ashara remained unmarried in the south. And it was likely that her daughter would not be able to find a suitable husband, even if she were legitimized.

'I did wrong then.'

Eddard looked at the cradle where Rhaelle had been born moons ago.

Rhaelle Snow.

When he found out, he had wanted to send Prince Jaehaerys to the Wall, leave him there with his grandfather. He felt rage and disappointment, his daughter defiled by another man, burdened with a child and a bleak future.

He remembered how Catelyn had cried when she found out. Sansa was the best lady in her mother's eyes; she would be married to a great lord, like Willas Tyrell. Years ago Cat even discussed with Ned the possibility of a marriage between the prince and Sansa. He refused at the time.

'I should have raised him better,' he thought.

When the prince first arrived, he told himself that he would raise him well, show him affection, and try to integrate him into his family. 'He's a child, without guilt, without blood on his hands,' he repeated at the time.

But he never could. It wasn't that he hated him, nor that he mistreated him. He treated him like an unwanted guest. The prince resented him; he knew that, and he didn't blame the prince for it. He wasn't the best foster father. If he had been, the prince wouldn't have taken the maiden Sansa under his own roof.

Every time he tried to act like a father to the prince, he saw his purple eyes and white hair: dragon blood, Rhaegar's blood, the Mad King's blood.

The North remembers. And although he did not pass on his hatred to a child, he could not love him either. He was courteous and taught him enough, but not much more. He never raised him the way Jon Arryn raised him and Robert.

The fury he felt when he learned of his daughter's pregnancy subsided over time. Jaehaerys did to Sansa what he, Eddard, did to Ashara. He wanted to blame and hate him, but every time he remembered his bastard daughter in the south, it became more difficult.

Now, a more complicated issue loomed. Sansa. A woman with a bastard was only well regarded in Dorne; in the north, she was seen as tainted, dishonorable, while in the south, the Seven condemned her.

Ned loved his daughter, despite his disappointment. Catelyn had told him to send his granddaughter to Jaehaerys, to be raised and cared for. That way, Sansa would be free of any ties. She would still bear the stigma of having given birth to a bastard, but her prospects for marriage would be better.

Ned refused. Although he knew Jaehaerys and knew that, all things considered, he was a decent person, he did not realize Daenerys. He did not see how the princess would react to her husband's illegitimate daughter.

Catelyn was an incredible woman, but every time she remembered Ashara's daughter, she frowned with anger. Daenerys was a Targaryen; madness ran through her veins. Eddard would not put his granddaughter in danger. That was why he was raising her in the north, in his halls. Few knew of the girl's existence, and Eddard could keep it quiet, pass her off as the daughter of a servant or a man-at-arms. He could avoid ruining his daughter's reputation.

It wasn't honorable, but Catelyn could have convinced him to do it.

But Sansa refused. She didn't want to be separated from the little one, so even though Eddard managed to keep the baby a secret, he couldn't hide her forever.

Rhaelle herself was a strong girl, extreme. She probably inherited it from her father. Only the old gods know where Jaehaerys' strength came from. He wasn't as muscular as Robert and was perhaps stronger than the Baratheon.

"Have you thought about the options we gave you, Sansa?" Sansa was no longer a child. She was a grown woman with the ability to bring life into the world.

She needed to marry a good man. Someone honorable. Someone from the North. Eddard believed that, even with the baby, no Northerner would dare mistreat Sansa while Eddard was alive.

"I've looked at them... although I want to add one of my own," she said in a soft, low voice. The baby was asleep, and she didn't want to wake her.

"Unless you approve your mother's plan... it is likely that many lords will refuse to take your hand," he said sincerely. Sansa smiled sadly at his words.

"I know, but I believe Lord Walder Frey would gladly accept my hand," she said, looking her father in the eye.

"No," Eddard did not know what kind of nonsense his daughter was thinking. But the last thing he would ever see in his life was his bloodline mixed with that of Walder Frey. He would never see his daughter as the lady of the Twins. Walder had had so many wives and so many children that he could well populate a kingdom with his offspring alone.

"It is my wish, Father. To be Lady Frey. I think it's the best idea. I will fulfill my mother's wish for me to marry a powerful lord in the south, and I will be close enough to the North to come to Winterfell from time to time."

Eddard rubbed his temple with his fingers. His daughter's nonsense must have come from somewhere. He thought that perhaps her mother might have orchestrated this, but he didn't believe Catelyn would want to see her daughter married to Frey of all people. The man was old enough to be Sansa's great-great-grandfather.

"No... Walder Frey has had so many wives, all of whom are now dead. I will not see you next to them." Eddard would rather see her as Jaehaerys' second wife than Walder's wife.

"Father. I have made a mistake. I know that. Even though that mistake is beautiful and strong," her hand caressed the little girl's cheek. "I cannot offer a good alliance for the family, not from a prestigious family. The Freys are the best allies I can marry," she tried to reason with him.

'So you're doing this because you feel guilty, Sansa?' Eddard wondered.

The only reason Sansa would want to marry Walder Frey would be because she felt she had failed in her duty as a member of House Stark. Eddard could understand that, but even so, he would never allow it. No matter how much Walder offered for her hand, he would not give her away.

"And your daughter? Do you think Walder would allow her to live comfortably in his castle?" he tried to make Sansa reconsider.

"Rhaelle will be raised with Jaehaerys," she said softly, the baby's little face cringing when she heard her name.

"Princess Daenerys..." He didn't want to say it explicitly.

"It may not seem like the best thing for Rhaelle, but I trust Jaehaerys. He will keep his daughter safe," Sansa said firmly. "The best thing would be to invite him to the wedding and introduce him to Rhaelle then. He will raise her, he will be a good father, I know it, I always knew it."

'Jaehaerys,' the name sent shivers down his spine.

Eddard wasn't very good at politics; he found it difficult, but Sansa gave herself away at that moment.

The prince incubates dragons, moons ago; moreover, they should already be of considerable size. Eddard thought of the hopes his daughter might have.

"You think Jaehaerys will prevent your marriage to Lord Frey, right?" he asked directly, seeing his daughter's back tense up, telling him the truth.

Jaehaerys was a cautious man. He would not act solely for his own benefit, no. But if it was about Sansa, Eddard believed the prince could intervene and stop the marriage. Perhaps Sansa longed to end up like Lyanna, as the second wife of a Targaryen. The idea repulsed him less than seeing her as Lady Frey, but it still repulsed him.

Sansa smiled guiltily, her cheeks flushed as they had when she stole lemon cakes and was caught by the cooks. Such a childish gesture in a woman who was already a mother was quite charming.

"It is not right to conspire, Sansa. We are not southerners," he scolded her.

Sansa still loved the prince; even upon hearing of his marriage, she did not stop loving him. She was a little girl wanting to play the game of thrones, and Eddard knew that nothing good would come of it.

"I---" Sansa couldn't speak, and Eddard watched the tears well up in her eyes.

"Jaehaerys will not fly in on a dragon to interrupt your wedding. To do so would be disrespectful to his wife." Eddard murmured softly, even though deep down he believed Jaehaerys might do it. "This isn't a fairy tale, Sansa. There won't be a dragon prince coming for you."

"But... if it's for Rhaelle, he would come, right?" she said, looking at her daughter.

Eddard didn't fully understand Sansa's thoughts. Did she want to marry him? Did she want her daughter to be raised with him? Or did she want to see him again, perhaps to see if he had ever loved her?

"Sansa..." Eddard said nothing more, just looked at his daughter, gazing at Rhaelle as if she were the most beautiful gemstone anyone had ever seen.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Lord Manderly arrived at ArgentStone days after Brandon. A merchant group accompanied him, and they traveled slowly, as if they had all the time in the world.

Wendel Manderly was the second son of Wyman Manderly, the current lord of White Harbor. He was a fat man, but agile enough to wield a sword.

Wendel was the father of the twins Brandon and Torrhen, although he never saw them during their childhood. Jaehaerys was not surprised that neither of the twins had much affection for their father, and he even felt bad at times asking them to interact with him.

"My prince, Jaehaerys Targaryen," the man said.

The prince welcomed him at the castle entrance. A camp of Unsullied stretched out around the walls. Wendel was not surprised; after all, he was leading the expedition to bring the Unsullied.

"Lord Wendel, I hear you were delayed by business on your way here." Jaehaerys greeted him politely. He then continued with the ritual of presenting bread and salt to his guests.

Jaehaerys did not have to come out to greet him; he could have sent a trusted man to do so. It was a way of showing respect for the Manderlys.

"Uncle!" said a voice beside the prince. Lady Wylla was a rebellious woman who dyed her hair green. She was Lord Wendel's niece, the youngest daughter of Willys Manderly, Wendel's older brother and heir to White Harbor.

The girl had arrived at ArgentStone moons ago, accompanied by Lyanna Mormont. Both northerners had quite impressive personalities.

The uncle and nephew greeted each other, still maintaining their decorum.

"We have prepared rooms for you, Lord Manderly," said Jaehaerys.

"To tell you the truth, I would like to speak with you as soon as possible, if possible now, even better," said the man seriously. Jaehaerys nodded.

"Let's go to my Solar," said the prince, walking accompanied by a guard. Wylla withdrew, accompanying her uncle's servants, a knight who watched what had been Harrenhal moons ago transform into something more majestic.

"You look worried," said Jaehaerys while taking a seat. The man's forehead was sweating profusely.

"I am. I bring discouraging news," the man said, looking around the room.

"Then speak."

"It's about the Greyjoys," the man whispered. "They've been very active lately." The Manderly family was known for its maritime trade; it was part of their responsibility to see the sea and those who sail it.

Jaehaerys nodded, unsurprised. A rebellion should have broken out years ago. But the only news about the Ironborn was about Euron Greyjoy, the man who wanted to marry Queen Rhaella. He was rejected, and in revenge, he tried to burn the royal fleet. He was repelled and believed lost at sea.

No one had seen him since.

"What kind of activity?" the prince asked.

"They steal wood from the North, small raids that may go unnoticed at first, but over time they accumulate enough to be noticed," said the man, then added, "Also, I saw flags with a Kraken when our ships passed through Lys."

"Sailing is not a crime."

"Robert Baratheon fights over the Disputed Lands."

"Are you afraid of an alliance?" asked the prince.

"I fear war," said the man. "I fear the chaos and death that Robert Baratheon will bring if he gets ships to transport his horsemen to Westeros," he concluded.

Robert did not get along with any of the lords in Westeros. Not even Eddard. It is said that he asked Eddard to flee eastward together, gather men, and return later. Lord Stark refused; he couldn't flee, he had a wife and children. Robert cursed him before leaving.

Robert and the Ironborn were the worst thing that could have happened at that moment. Robert's war hammer was remembered and feared. Furthermore, it is said that he can turn enemies into allies. Jaehaerys was unsure how he would do that, having been rejected by most of the continent.

"Have you discussed your concerns with anyone else?" asked the prince.

"Lord Eddard is aware of them. He ordered the coasts to be watched and for us to be prepared to mobilize our ships if necessary." Jaehaerys nodded.

"I will send a letter to my brother, warning him," said the prince, though he hoped his brother would ignore his letter out of spite. The Targaryens had a rather impressive capacity for drama.

Jaehaerys did not want a war. His castle was being built, and war would delay everything.

"That is good to hear, my prince," said Manderly. "It is not good to let the Ironborn run wild." The man seemed to want to say more.

"You may speak freely, Lord Manderly," said the prince, rising and taking a jug of wine. He took two crystal glasses and placed them on his desk. He poured the liquid into each of the glasses.

"I have two questions, my prince," Jaehaerys gestured with his hand, asking him to continue. The sweet aroma of the wine tickled his nose. "In the event of a war against the ironborn, can your dragons fight?"

"I don't know. Suppose war breaks out immediately, no. They are still vulnerable to projectiles," Jaehaerys didn't know how true that was; the dragons' skin was incredibly tough, his dragons were different than the ones of his ancestors. If they weren't his, he might have wanted to create armor from their skin. "What is the other question?"

"My father wanted to buy the method for creating the compass," he said, with a faint trace of hope in his eyes.

"It's not for sale," the prince refused confidently.

The manufacturing method was quite simple, but it would not be easy to figure it out just by taking one of the devices apart. It would take many years to replicate something of that nature. Risking that information becoming public would allow the Ironborn to obtain it.

At that time, pirates were a nuisance, and giving them the ability to improve their navigation would be like giving a knife to a murderer and expecting him to use it to peel an apple.

"My father offers more ships," said the man.

Lord Manderly had asked him to test the compass. If it was as good as the prince promised, then he should make sure to get the means to make it, no matter the price. What could the Manderlys offer, besides ships?

"The answer is unchanged. I wish to keep that secret close to me. Still, I am willing to sell more compasses to your family," the prince refused, but offered to sell compasses.

Lord Manderly remained silent, probably wondering what the right price for the compasses would be. The journey to Astapor took three and a half moons, although it took only two more to go from Astapor to Maidenpool. Part of the time was spent trading; the Manderlys were not only going to help the prince bring an army to Westeros.

That was a total of five and a half moons. A round trip. Previously, they could do it in eight or nine months, but the compasses allowed them to navigate different routes across the open sea.

He remembered hearing that some sailors claimed they could cover the distance in the same amount of time. And Lord Manderly would agree with them; with a good ship, he could sail from White Harbor to Astapor in six moons.

But that was a single ship; a single ship traveled faster than an entire fleet, one that, despite Lord Manderly's efforts, was more disorganized. After all, they were trying out a new method of navigation; not all sailors could travel with the same confidence, doubts, and lack of faith slowed them down. In a fleet, they had to maintain a steady pace so as not to leave any ships behind. In the event of an accident, the fleet would be further delayed.

Lord Manderly believed that the journey could be reduced to three moons with the use of a compass and a better-organized fleet. It was a dream, of course, but he would fight to make it possible.

To go from one side of the world to the other in a few moons is something that not even the Ironborn, who spend more time at sea than on land, could achieve.

"Do you want gold dragons or ships?" asked Lord Manderly.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Jaime looked at his father's serious face. There was no expression on it, as cold as a gold coin. The news his father had just told him caused him internal conflict.

"A tournament?" Jaime asked. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but what was unusual were the prizes. "200,000 gold dragons for the winner... obviously, we can afford it, but why?"

"The name day of my granddaughter, Myrcella. The future queen and the birth of my heir, Tommen," he said in a firm, tense voice.

Tommen was the son of Jaime and Lysa Tully, born a few moons ago. A boy with copper hair and gray-green eyes. He was small, born weak, but he managed to survive.

Lysa was not so lucky.

"So much gold... It's an unnecessary expense," Jaime commented. The tournaments at Casterly Rock always had quite impressive prizes, thousands of gold dragons, but hundreds of thousands? It was absurd.

"The future queen---"

"Are you looking for a new wife for me?" Jaime interrupted his father. "What are you trying to do?"

His father's eyes hardened, and his nostrils flared slightly.

"You will learn not to---"

"Interrupt you?" Jaime stole the words from his mouth. "My wife just died."

Jaime did not love Lysa. She was a beautiful woman, not as gorgeous as her sister, but still pleasant to look at. His problem with her was not physical; no, it was that she was mad. Always overprotecting her children, always looking for excuses to spend more time with them, she even tried to breastfeed them when they were four. Always paranoid. She loved Myrcella and Joanna. And the look in her eyes when she looked at Tommen told him she would have loved him madly, too.

He couldn't love her, but he was deeply grateful to her for giving him children. He wasn't going to disrespect her by marrying another woman a few moons after her death. He owed it to her and their daughters. That Tywin dared to create a tournament in the guise of a new wife was something that infuriated him.

"I never took you for a sentimental man," Tywin said, a slight sneer of contempt adorning his face.

"I did think that way about you," Jaime said. "I remember when Tyrion was born-"

"Sansa Stark is the best candidate for your wife," Tywin cut his son off.

"She's Lysa's niece." Jaime gritted his teeth.

"She's also the daughter of one Lord Paramount and the granddaughter of another. The daughter of one of the kingdoms not bound to the Iron Throne," Tywin said slowly, as if explaining to an idiot.

"Stark hates you," Jaime said. "He'd rather rot in a block of ice than marry Lady Sansa to me."

"Stark needs gold and food to keep his people alive. The summer has been long, the winter will be worse," his father said.

Jaime closed his eyes. He tried to push Lysa out of his mind. Anger was useless when decisions had to be made. It wasn't easy, but he had to think with a cool head. A marriage to Sansa? Stark had done nothing to him, so he would take no pleasure in screwing up her life a little. Sansa was said to be a beauty. Some said she was the most beautiful woman in Westeros, although with the Targaryens around, that was unlikely.

Personal reasons aside, the advantages of his house would be an army. A good army. Northerners, despite lacking great resources, survive in precarious conditions. Only the strong can survive in the cold. In addition to an army, there would probably be more heirs for his house. Catelyn had already had five children, and his daughter would be similar in that regard.

He didn't know much about Sansa, but since Catelyn raised her, she should be obedient and well-mannered. Most of the rumors about her were about her beauty and her relationship with the prince.

'Jaehaerys,' Jaime opened his eyes suddenly.

"The tournament, it's not even for me, is it?" he asked his father, who raised an eyebrow, questioning. "It's for Jaehaerys." Jaime watched Tywin suppress a smile. "You want to lure him to the Rock. He needs gold, and if Sansa Stark is here... no, he's unlikely to come even with Sansa. The romance he might have had with her is gone; he's married," Jaime said.

"He's a Targaryen," his father said as if that explained everything. "He will come," he declared, with the same confidence as if he were proclaiming that the sun would rise tomorrow.

"He's not just any Targaryen," Jaime said.

"All Targaryens are quite greedy when it comes to their dragon hatchlings." His father leaned back in his chair, watching his son's face go from question to answer to bitterness at learning the truth.

"A bastard," Jaime said, sighing. "You want to use his child against him... when he supposedly had a son?" He had never heard anything like it in the Seven Kingdoms.

It would have been big news, the daughter of the upright Lord Stark impregnated by the prince. As if history were repeating itself.

"Lord Stark is good at keeping secrets. I'm better at uncovering them." Tywin looked out the window at the clear sky---a beautiful sight for the observer. But Tywin did not smile or take pleasure in it; he looked up at the sky with caution.

Jaime could understand his fear, even though he denied it and claimed respect; Tywin was afraid not simply because Jaehaerys was a brilliant man. But because he was a clever man with dragons.

Tywin confirmed this by exchanging letters with Serena, although the girl was slow to respond and did not do so very often, which deeply embittered Lord Lannister. By the time Serena confirmed the presence of the dragons, all of Westeros already knew, and the king had been to ArgentStone to claim them.

Many lords held their breath as they waited for answers. Jaime, among them, would march with an army to secure his daughter's throne. A new war could break out. But Rhaegar loved peace. And the North and the Vale could come to Jaehaerys' aid, either out of revenge or simply because they considered it just in the case of the Vale. Even Lord Stannis Baratheon could get involved.

The Baratheons had lost their power over the Stormlands; they were no longer its Lords Paramount, but they still commanded the respect of other lords and could divide the Stormlands into two.

The people could rally behind Jaehaerys. Not because they loved him, but Rhaegar was not as beloved as he might seem.

If one day the king decided to go to war against his brother without cause, many would frown, but they would still obey his orders. But with dragons? The dragons, in time, would give them a trump card.

"Jaehaerys is coming to Casterly Rock, so what?" Jaime asked.

"He will suffer the same fate as all who oppose us," Tywin said.

"It's not certain you'll succeed in killing him." Jaime might feel sorry for Jaehaerys if he were to die.

He was a good man, and Jaime was sure he could be a valuable ally. But he was also a powerful piece. Whether he liked it or not, Jaime thought about the possibility that one day he might turn against his brother, Rhaegar, and take the throne.

Jaime would not attack the prince unless necessary; it was not his style. However, if it had to be done, it was best to ensure it was done cleanly. The truth was that he did not trust his ability to turn the prince into an ally, given Tywin's pressure on the prince. If he had to choose between going against his own family or against the prince... 'My family has always been my priority.'

After serving the Mad King, he put all his efforts into becoming a good father and a good husband. He wanted to leave behind his knighthood; chivalry was no longer a viable concept. He just wanted to live and die for his family. He wanted peace.

"Gregor has had headaches since the tournament at King's Landing," said his father. "Besides, he's been behaving worse and worse, more uncontrollable." Gregor had not been able to give free rein to his desires as much as he would have liked, partly by order of the king and partly by order of Joanna.

"I've seen Gregor fight, and I've seen Jaehaerys fight... I can only kill one of them," Jaime was very confident in his abilities. He would say that only Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan were better than him. If he had continued training as much as before, probably only Ser Arthur would be better.

When Jaehaerys appeared, the list of people he would lose to grew to three.

"In a tumult, a hidden knife can achieve what an exposed sword cannot," Tywin said, standing up, his eyes still fixed on the window. "Besides, we are not the only ones with the same goal."

"Who else? The Queen of Thorns?" Olenna was a greedy woman who had sought to marry her niece to Aegon even when he was engaged on his first name day.

"Olenna? Olenna is testing the prince. She fears him as much as she desires his dragons. No, she won't make a move, not yet," Tywin dismissed her immediately. "She is someone who has sought dragons for years and finally found them, but in the hands of others." He turned to face his son. His footsteps echoed deeply in the room.

Jaime nodded, knowing perfectly well who Tywin was referring to.

"What if... what if, even with all the people involved, the prince is still alive?" Jaime asked.

"There's still his daughter," Tywin said before turning to leave.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"It's a considerable amount," said Qyburn.

"It's also a pretty big trick, if Westeros has ever seen one," Brandon grumbled. "They want you to go, the prize is for you, to kill you within their walls," Brandon.

"This time I agree with my brother, my prince," Torrhen commented.

Jaehaerys looked at the three men in front of him, all telling him the same thing. The tournament organized by Tywin sought to lure him in.

200,000 gold dragons. An absurd amount for a tournament. The most ridiculous thing was not only the prize, but also the way it was offered.

Typically, there were three categories in tournaments: jousting, melee, and archery. Of these three, jousting usually had the highest prize, as it was considered the most prestigious. It was a sport that not just anyone could practice; it required lances, armor, a shield, and, most importantly, a horse. Not everyone can own a horse.

On the other hand, the melee required you to know how to fight, and while not everyone can get good training, it is easier than training for a joust. And archery required a bow and a target.

It is not only that the joust is complicated, but it is also because, with the resources of the time, it is the most privileged to train for and the most spectacular. Even if there is more blood and action in the melee, all the commotion obscures the view, making it less visually appealing.

"200,000 for the commotion, 100,000 for the joust, and 20,000 for archery." The difference in amounts was absurd. Traditionally, the joust was the best paid.

"You could earn a total of 300,000 golden dragons," said Qyburn, a little greedily.

"And my husband could die," the princess said with a frown.

Daenerys did not want her husband to expose himself to the dangers outside ArgentStone. Nor did she want to be separated from him, but if he agreed to take her to Casterly Rock, she could agree.

"If there is anything alive that can kill the prince, that thing is not human," said Qyburn.

For a man who lived his life based on science to say such a thing meant that he had enormous confidence in Jaehaerys' abilities.

"In a riot, you can't know for sure. If it were just one-on-one fights, I'd bet a million gold dragons on the prince, but in a riot, I fear for his life," Brandon said.

Jaehaerys nodded. Under normal circumstances, he would not agree to it. He would not go; he would not give Tywin the pleasure of giving him a place to stab him, no.

"Eddard Stark has agreed to attend," the letter said.

He was sure he hadn't received a generic invitation like most houses, no, that letter at the end was written directly by Tywin for him. 'What does he mean by that?'

'Is it because of Sansa?' he wondered.

Jaime was recently widowed. It wouldn't be unusual for him to be looking for a new wife. Sansa was a pretty good option for him. Jaehaerys felt his stomach twist at the thought of that possibility. Jaime was a good choice for her, and although Tywin was dangerous, he wouldn't mistreat his own family.

But even if Jaime was a good choice, he didn't like it at all.

'Is that how you felt when you found out I was getting married, Sansa?'

Tywin was aiming directly at him, Jaehaerys knew it. He was using Sansa to stir up old feelings in him. But there had to be something else. Sansa was precious to him, but unless Tywin had a spy directly in Winterfell, which he doubted, he wouldn't know how deep their relationship was.

Moreover, why was he so sure he would go? Tywin must have another card up his sleeve.

'What if I'm just overthinking this?'

"The Lord and Lady of Harrenhal and Princess Serena Nymeros Martell are expected to attend," was written in another fragment.

"Everyone leave, except Daenerys," he ordered. The two brothers left immediately. Qyburn seemed to want to say something, but in the end, he went silently.

Dany looked at him with narrowed eyes; her hair had grown a little, already beginning to cover her ears.

Jaehaerys had decided to keep his hair short, more so than hers, to achieve a greater contrast between the two and make Daenerys feel a little better.

"Why, despite our words, are you planning to go to the tournament?" Daenerys asked.

"I don't plan to go, it's just that..." He paused, as if to tell his wife that it was something related to Sansa. Daenerys had stopped asking about her long ago; she was no longer so interested in the Stark girl.

"Stop hiding things from me," Daenerys asked, not aggressively or bossily, but more pleadingly.

Jaehaerys sighed and handed her the letter.

He didn't look at Daenerys's face; he didn't know what expression she wore as she read. He only heard her sigh from time to time. Earlier, he had read the letter to the people in the room, but he had omitted the references to Serena and Lord Stark.

Tywin wasn't going to explain things literally, no, the old lion would give clues to lure him in. No one knew how to use information better than Tywin; you only reveal things at the right moment. Perhaps, before attempting to assassinate him to lower his guard, he had other motives, such as not really wanting to kill him and instead seeking a favorable deal or a way to get Serena back.

"It's because of Sansa, then?" Daenerys' question was as predictable as the sun's trajectory. "Do you want to see her again?" she asked in a flat voice.

The woman tried to hide her jealousy, but the change in her voice gave her away.

And did Jaehaerys want to see her again? Hell, yes. Not out of love, nor out of desire, he wanted to see her. He wanted to know somehow that he hadn't ruined her life by sleeping with her.

"I have things to discuss with her," said the prince.

Daenerys remained silent.

"It's nothing romantic, I just... I think she's still waiting for me somehow, and I don't think that's right for her. I'm married," he said, half-truth and half-lie.

He didn't want Sansa to wait for him forever; she had the right to live and make a life away from him, to marry a good man and live as the lady of a great castle.

But on the other hand, he didn't want to see her married to another man either. That contradiction was stupid, and he knew it. He was not a man without faults. He knew he had desires beyond monogamy; Ros knew him well enough.

He looked at Daenerys. The woman was not at all concerned that Ros had joined their relationship, but that was because Jaehaerys, although he was very fond of the woman, did not love her.

He couldn't say the same about Sansa.

"I think you should go," Daenerys said finally.

"What?"

"I don't think I can have children, Jae," said the princess. Her eyes scanned the room boredly.

Jaehaerys was momentarily shocked.

"Where did you get that idea, Dany?"

"I haven't had my moon blood since the dragons were born." Menstruation, or moon blood, was what indicated that a woman was still fertile. When a girl had it for the first time, she was considered to have become a woman, as she had developed the ability to bear life. And when she stopped having it, it was known that she had lost that ability.

Jaehaerys thought about the canon. Just like in the pages of the books, Daenerys had lost the ability to have children.

'Maybe in the canon it wasn't a curse, and it was because of the ritual that brought back the dragons?' he wondered, intrigued.

"It's... It's temporary, we'll have children in time, Dany," he said to his wife. She had become deathly still when he said that.

"I want to believe you... I had heard of women who didn't have their moon blood for an abnormal time, but it's been nine moons since the last one," she said with a bitter smile.

"It's a matter of time," he said, not with faith or as empty words meant to comfort her.

In the books, it had been theorized that Daenerys regained the ability to have children. It wasn't something he could confirm, but he chose to believe it.

When they made love in the flames, his seed disappeared. One might think it simply evaporated, but if that had been the case, there would have been some trace left behind, and there was none. No, it was magic, a sacrifice.

If it took Jaehaerys' seed, there was a massive possibility that it also took Daenerys' eggs... maybe... maybe...

'It didn't make sense. Even if Daenerys lost some eggs, her period wouldn't stop for so long.'

"Go... don't participate in tournaments, take Brandon and Tohrren for protection. Meet Sansa and maybe..."

"No," Jaehaerys sat down to write a letter refusing to go. He also put second in his mind to find a way to prevent Sansa from getting married to anyone.

He wasn't going to bring another woman to have children with. He wasn't going to spit in Daenerys' face.

Jaehaerys let the ink run across the paper as his mind thought about heirs. If magic took away the ability to have children, magic could restore that ability.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Rhaella looked at the letter in her hands as she reread it for the umpteenth time. She wanted to pull her youngest son's ears. He had done something stupid by getting Ned Stark's daughter pregnant, as if the tension between Dragons and Wolves wasn't tense enough.

He had dishonored his adoptive father's daughter. What would the lords say? Rhaegar seemed quite surprised, shocked, and even a little amused. He commented on his brother, but Rhaella noticed how his eyes sparkled with happiness.

"How long until we reach ArgentStone, Ser Balon?" Rhaella asked the royal guard who was accompanying her to the castle of Jaehaerys and Daenerys.

'How will Daenerys take it?' Rhaella was a woman who knew the importance of having children. Her youngest daughter had bled long ago and still had no children. Rhaella suspected she was not very fertile, and knowing that her fiancé had a daughter with another woman could hurt her.

"A few hours, my Queen," replied her guard. He was a man with broad shoulders and strong arms. Honorable, like few others, and focused on his duty.

Rhaella was traveling to meet Jaehaerys and take him to the tournament organized by The Mighty Tywin. And partly she wanted to see the dragons again.

It didn't matter to her who controlled the dragons; they were back, and soon House Targaryen would be at the top of Westeros, above any man.

The dragons would serve to maintain peace. Rhaegar's reign was already prosperous, healing the wounds left by Aerys.

"Rhaelle." The Stark girl had taken a Targaryen name for her bastard daughter. Rhaella didn't know whether to take it as an offense or a compliment; the name was a variation of her own. She hadn't even heard about her granddaughter's appearance. She wondered if she would look like a Targaryen, a Tully, or a Stark.

To some extent, she hoped she would look like anything but a dragon, that way Jaehaerys could even deny being her father, although she knew her son would never do such a thing. He was not capable of abandoning his daughter; he was a man with a good heart. Too good for this world.

Rhaella looked at the walls from afar. Before, several imperfections could be seen in the outer walls, but now they seemed completely repaired, impenetrable. From a distance, she could see three massive towers, and the imposing structure was visible from a great distance.

Harrenhal was a strange castle. It was enormous, and she had no idea what her son would do with so much space. He would need to have more children than Lord Frey to fill it.

'As long as they're not bastards...' she thought bitterly.

Part of her was excited to have another grandchild, another part was furious and disappointed. The consequences were not yet clear, but Lord Stark would not be happy. That was why she had agreed to marry Sansa to Jaime. Tywin had conspired against Jaehaerys before, but Jaime was a good man.

Rhaella could see how Tywin wanted Jaehaerys' daughter to be raised at Casterly Rock, which was why she was looking for her son to go to the tournament and decide his daughter's future. He was already a grown man, more than capable of taking responsibility for his mistakes.

It took hours to reach the castle, whose black walls gave her a horrible welcome. Everything about that place made her hair stand on end. She entered through the enormous gates, looking at the surrounding camps of men.

"Unsullied, my queen. The best infantry in the world," said Balon Swann when he saw her looking at the men with interest.

"Too thin," she said. They didn't seem to eat enough. She looked at the White Cloak and couldn't see how the Unsullied would ever be better than him.

"Their training method prepares them to survive on the bare minimum. The slave masters in Essos wouldn't want to spend too much on their possessions," the man explained.

"If you fought them, could you win?" she asked curiously.

"It depends, my queen. Individually, they are not renowned for being great warriors. Their training is based on discipline and teamwork. They are a terrifying army, but I would not choose one of them to represent me in a duel," said the man, knowing a little about the way they were trained.

The queen mother remained silent. She was glad that Jaehaerys had a good army under his command, but she couldn't ignore the currents stirring in King's Landing. She had already heard many lords conspiring, whispering in Rhaegar's ear that it was only a matter of time before Jaehaerys rebelled. Rhaella was grateful that her eldest son was not a foolish believer.

Finally, she passed through the castle walls to see inside. There were more people than the last time she had been here, merchants and workers, although at that moment they had all stopped what they were doing as she passed by in the horse-drawn cart. Inside, there was chaotic order. She could see how two other towers were being built simultaneously, and she even noticed a structure connecting the two central towers. Rhaella did not know what magic her son used to keep those towers so stable.

"My son," she said happily, unable to help but look at her son and feel a surge of pride and love well up in her chest.

Daenerys was there too, standing next to her husband, smiling beautifully as she looked at her. The princess's height did not even reach her husband's shoulder, Jaehaerys being too tall and she too short. Dany covered her hair with a cloth, which made her look a bit like a Septa.

The two northern twins were there too, as well as a group of Unsullied guarding the princess. She hoped that Lyanna and Visenya would also appear, but they were not there. The little princess had probably gotten lost, and her mother was looking for her, which happened often in King's Landing.

"Mother," they both said. Rhaella hugged them both, maintaining decorum but still showing plenty of affection. "It's a surprise to see you here," Jaehaerys said, handing her bread and salt.

She ate the bread, finding it far more appetizing than any she had ever tasted.

"I came to accompany you to the tournament at Casterly Rock," she said, watching her son frown while Daenerys gave her a look the queen could not read.

"I sent my refusal to Tywin days ago. I will not be going to the tournament," Jaehaerys said firmly. Rhaella noticed his hand go to Daenerys's waist.

The queen frowned, though somewhat relieved that he did not seem to have much interest in Sansa. She was also disappointed that he had decided to do nothing to face the consequences of having a bastard daughter.

It was not unlike what many other lords did. The number of noble bastards in the kingdom could well equal the number of nobles in Westeros. Most did not even seek to be part of their bastards' lives. But she hoped Jaehaerys would be more responsible, not a man who made mistakes and made no amends whatsoever.

"Impossible. Your presence is needed there," the queen said firmly.

If it were another bastard, from a peasant or even a small house, it could be ignored, but when it was from one of the great houses, it could not be overlooked.

"I don't see how my presence will help in the tournament," Jaehaerys said boredly.

"You don't know, do you?" Rhaella asked.

Jaehaerys frowned, concerned. He tilted his head to one side, reminding Rhaella of when he was a child; whenever he didn't know the answer to something, he would tilt his head in the same way.

"I think it would be best to speak in private, Your Majesty." Ser Balon's interruption could be seen as disrespectful, but Rhaella nodded in his direction as she glanced around.

"Yes, it would be best if we spoke in private," said the queen. The merchants and workers just looking at them made her cautious.

Jaehaerys led her to his Solar, Daenerys at his side. Rhaella watched the affection between the two spouses and felt joy knowing that their bond was strong.

She hoped that the bond would survive the news.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.