Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and the A Song of Ice and Fire series belongs to George R. R. Martin.
Chapter 2 – Golden and Red
The war was over in Westeros.
With the Targaryens all but destroyed, it was Robert Baratheon that now sat upon the Iron Throne, the city of King's Landing taken thanks to the assistance of Tywin Lannister. But the presence of the Lord Paramount of the Westerlands did not last long there, nor did that of his bannermen.
"Ser Kevan, a raven arrived for you two days ago," spoke the castellan of Casterly Rock, handing a special cylinder used by the Goldfyres. "From Bloodstone."
Kevan took hold of the cylinder, the three-headed dragon of the Targaryens engraved on it proving its sender. He removed the letter from the inside, reading it carefully and feeling a sudden joy at the contents, quickly replaced by dread.
"Is something the matter?" asked Tywin upon seeing that his brother stood there, wordless.
"I have a grandson."
That had stopped Tywin. He was quickly reminded of Kevan's eldest daughter, Jeyne, and her marriage to Daemon Goldfyre, the King of the Stepstones. A man who was a legitimate Targaryen, despite the name of his house. A man whose blood made him a target for Robert Baratheon.
But his brother also understood how dangerous the situation was, considering the fates of Elia Martell and her children, and how Baratheon was calling for the deaths of the surviving Targaryens.
"Have you?" said Tywin. "What's the boy's name?"
"Haerys."
"They named their son after the Mad King?"
Kevan shook his head. "No. Not Aerys. Haerys with an 'h'. The letter says it was after the Conciliator."
A diminished form of Jaehaerys, Tywin concluded, finding it a curious choice for a name.
"If Robert Baratheon dares to harm a hair on that child's head, or even order it, I will ride to King's Landing and kill him myself."
And Tywin knew his brother would keep that promise. After all, a Lannister would always pay his debts.
But the birth of Haerys Goldfyre put him in a precarious situation. Putting the Goldfyre name aside, the boy was both Targaryen and Lannister, a combination that he had previously hoped to create with his daughter and Rhaegar Targaryen. The boy had a far more legitimate claim to the Iron Throne than Robert ever did, considering he descended from the Targaryens on the male line. Duncan Goldfyre may have been a bastard, but he was legitimized, and that was enough to make him and his descendants viable candidates to the throne.
A Lannister on the Iron Throne was next to impossible, so Tywin would settle for the next best thing. And both his daughter and that of his brother were good candidates to achieve it. But if war came to pass, he knew whose claimant would the remaining Targeryen loyalists support, and it would be no child of Cercei and Robert. If the time came to choose a side, he would have to do so carefully.
"Robert would be stupid to attack them," said Tywin. "Not unless he wants the Free Cities landing their armies on our shores."
Disrupting the peace enforced by the Goldfyres on the Stepstones was something anyone with half a brain didn't want. The safety of the Narrow Sea was something enjoyed by Westerosi and Essosi traders alike. If Robert went to war against the Stepstones due to a grudge and the possibility of resistance to his claim on the throne, then he would have to contend with both a civil war and an invasion from the Free Cities.
"Regardless, I would like to see them before anything happens," spoke Kevan. "Do I have permission to travel to Bloodstone?"
Tywin looked at his brother before giving a firm nod.
"Do hurry. I have need of you here."
It took many days for Ser Kevan to arrive at Bloodstone, having to travel to the Stormlands so that he could catch a ship to the Stepstones had been necessary, and far faster than travelling from Lannisport to Bloodstone by sea. But he did arrive, safe and sound with no interference. The sight of Bloodstone Keep still intimidated him. The fortress was as black as Dragonstone, yet smaller. But there was something ominous about it. Perhaps it was its old reputation as a haven for pirates, or perhaps it was the name. Bloodstone was not a name that inspired good thoughts.
"Father!"
Yet the sight of his daughter removed such thoughts from Kevan's mind, and he joined her in an embrace.
"Jeyne, it is so good to see you."
"Ser Kevan, welcome to Bloodstone," said Daemon as he approached. "I hope you met no trouble on the way."
"Thank you, your grace. Not at all. The voyage was rather calm," he said. "But I'm afraid the coming times won't be. Robert Baratheon has taken the Iron Throne for himself."
"We know father."
"Then you also know that he has a vendetta against all Targaryens, you included, I'm certain," warned Kevan. "Any he sees as rivals for his hold on the throne. He may attempt to kill you."
"He may try. But he will fail," declared Daemon.
"What makes you so certain?"
"Tell me, Ser Kevan," said Daemon. "You haven't been near a glass candle for the past twenty years, have you?"
Kevan shook his head. "No. Why?"
Daemon nodded and turned towards his wife. "Should I?"
She gave a small shrug.
"I would call it folly, but it sends a good warning."
Daemon hummed and thought. Perhaps he was showing his hand too soon, and perhaps not. What good was a hand if it had no use, after all.
"Come with us, Ser Kevan. There's something you need to be shown."
Looking at his daughter in confusion, she simply smiled, leading her father by the arm, as the two were guided by Daemon into the depths of Bloodstone, towards the forbidden stairwell. Descending it, they could all hear and smell the sea, the waves echoing in the large cavern. But there was also something else, a sound which neither water not wind could make. And when Daemon saw his father-in-law set his eyes upon the source of this sound, he could not help but smile.
There, in the flat and dry surface of the sea cave, slept two beasts of the likes which people had only seen in illustration and heard of in legends and tales. One of the dragons could be said to be Balerion returned, were it not for the dragon's own appearance. This one was not a "black dread", but a golden beauty, the scales gleaming as if made from the sun's very light, and the membranes of its wings of a light purple tone. Near it was a smaller dragon, half the size of the larger one, had red scales, half of them gleaming in white as they reflected the sunlight which entered the cave.
"How?" was the only word Kevan managed to speak.
"Summerhall," explained Daemon, amused by his father-in-law's shock. "All that death and fire wasn't for nothing. My father scavenged the ruins after the fire, and found the egg, which he brought here. "
"How… how long?" asked Kevan. "
"Since my birth. The egg hatched in my crib, and we became bonded since then," answered Daemon with a pleased, if not smug, smile. "Those rumours of dragons in the Narrow Sea and Essos… that may have been me and Sunfyre."
The presence of two dragons had not been missed by Kevan. "You said your father took one egg from Summerhall. Where did the red one come from?"
"From one of Sunfyre's eggs."
There were two dragons in the world, and no one knew of it. It seemed incredibly surreal.
"Is it wild?"
"No. He's bonded to me."
The look that Kevan sent towards his daughter almost made Daemon break down in laughter.
"You? You're a dragonrider? I thought only Valyrians could tame such a creature."
"Perhaps none of had a dragon at their side its birth, father," she suggested. "I'm afraid I don't know myself. But Urrax's egg hatched in my hands, and the little one liked me ever since."
A huffed laugh came from Kevan's lips. "Little?"
"Well, he was," said Jeyne as she glanced at the red dragon. "But every year he grows… might even reach the size of his… mother… father… I'm not sure."
Daemon stepped forward, putting a hand on Kevan's shoulder.
"You see now, Ser Kevan? This is what's expecting Robert Baratheon and his allies, if they dare to trespass on our shores."
Fire and Blood.
Never had those words been truer since the Dance of the Dragons, thought Kevan Lannister, pondering on the fact that his daughter and her husband each rode one.
"And yet you keep yourselves here, in these isles. You could have conquered Westeros by now."
"I don't have plans to conquer the Seven Kingdoms. Not now that is," admitted Daemon. "When we reveal our dragons to the world, they will be a good deterrent for any invasions."
Deterrent was not the word Kevan would choose.
"Well, enough about dragons and Baratheons," he spoke after collecting his thoughts. "Let's talk about my grandson."
"Presenting Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone."
Daemon knew it would not be long before something like this happened. He had been expecting it, but he wasn't sure when it would happen. And now he had the brother of the Usurper standing before him, likely to present either a demand or a truce. Likely the former, knowing Robert Baratheon's recent actions.
"You stand before Daemon Goldfyre, First of His Name, King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea," spoke Marwyn, in his position as Hand of the King. "State the reason of your visit, Lord Baratheon."
Daemon looked at the man. A few years younger than him, Stannis Baratheon stood there, stiff as a plank of wood, and face harder than stone. Stripped of his weapon by the guards, the only thing he held was a sealed letter.
"I come at the orders of my brother, King Robert, to deliver a message to the King of the Stepstones," said Stannis, motioning the letter in his hand slightly.
A guard stepped forward and took the letter from Stannis, then walking towards the throne.
"Your grace," said the guard as he handed the letter to Daemon.
Daemon took the letter and unsealed it, quickly reading the contents, his eyes narrowing as he finished reading the paper. He then handed the letter to Marwyn, before looking back at Stannis with an unreadable expression on his face. There was a moment of silence before anyone spoke, and it was quickly broken by the king.
"You are eldest of Robert Baratheon's younger brothers, am I correct?"
Despite not understanding the purpose of the question, Stannis still answered.
"I am, yes."
"And yet you were made Lord of Dragonstone, not of Storm's End. Not only that, you were sent here as a glorified messenger, when he could have easily sent a raven. May I ask why?"
There was a twitch in Stannis' face, which Daemon guessed to be the gritting of the man's teeth.
"I cannot claim to know the intentions of my brother."
"I assume you know the contents of the letter. Has your brother has told you the reason for coming here?"
A nod. "He has."
"Then I can tell you I don't know what his intentions about this matter are either. Does he wish to slaughter my family and I, as he did with the Targaryens, or perhaps force me to bend the knee to him? I cannot tell, but I assure you none of those things will happen. None of us shall set foot in King's Landing until we have an assurance that we shall not be harmed, be it by your brother or any of his bannermen. Nor shall we bend the knee to him. The Stepstones are and shall remain independent from the Seven Kingdoms. If any attempts of invasion are made, remember what happened to the Ninepenny Kings. Remember who broke them and their ships."
Of course, he would not tell Stannis that he had a fiery surprise awaiting any would-be invader. And if any fool tried to infiltrate the keep by using the large cave beneath it… well, Sunfyre and Urrax did enjoy trespassers.
"Tell this to your brother. Tell him we are willing to parley if he is, but we shall make no concessions."
Stannis nodded, knowing that the audience was over. "Very well."
Daemon watched as Stannis turned around, walking towards the throne room's exit.
"I am not your enemy, Lord Stannis," he called out, making the Lord of Dragonstone quickly turn around. "But if your brother comes seeking war, he shall have it. And we shall break him."
As much as Stannis doubted it, there was something in the boldness of that statement that made him question his own doubts.
Perhaps it would be a dangerous affair to test the golden dragons.