Pentos. 7th month 289 AC
Daeron sighed in contentment as he relaxed in the tub filled with hot water in his chambers. Since he had hatched a pair of dragons three moons ago Oswell had been adamant on increasing his training in the way of the sword "With dragons abound our discovery by the Usurper is that much greater, you must learn to defend yourself Your Grace", he had told him sternly. And learn he did, for hours every day Oswell and his fellow Kingsguard pushed Daeron to new limits, the increasing amounts of bruises on his body showed that very well. Fortunately, Daeron was no stranger to either pain or hard work, Voldemort's cruciatus and his upbringing at the Dursley's respectively had prepared him for it, and he was almost thankful for those past experiences now, almost.
The thing that truly impressed him however was Rhaenys. After the dragons had been born she had flat out demanded Oswell that she herself would join his lessons, and Oswell's protests had fallen on deaf ears after Rhaenys turned her violet hopeful gaze upon Daeron, the slight quiver upon her lips folded his resistance to the idea rather quickly. Being three years older she quickly caught up to Daeron's advantage of having more practice with a sword due to her being stronger, it was only natural, and she routinely beat him as she applied her greater strength, and did not let him forget it either. The door to his quarters opened and Rhaenys stepped in grinning smugly at him while she started to remove her practice leathers. "Nice looking nose you have there little brother".
Daeron growled angrily at Rhaenys, in their last practice session he had tried to employ a hasty block, but due to poor positioning and footwork Rhaenys had punished him ruthlessly by striking hard with her own practice blade and demolished his block, ending her strike by introducing her blade to his nose, and he had no doubt that by tomorrow he would be sporting a truly impressive shiner. "You just wait Rhae, give me a few more years to build up some proper strength and we'll see just which one of us is the superior".
Rhaenys smirked as she removed the last of her garments before joining him in the hot water, striding over to him she wrapper her arms around his chest and gave him a hug while placing a soft kiss on his forehead. "One day perhaps Dae, but for now I shall enjoy being the better one of us". Daeron just sighed and closed his eyes as he leant back, placing his head on her chest as he enjoyed the soothing warmth of the water. "You ever wonder how things would be like if it hadn't been for the rebellion"? he asked softly.
Rhaenys removed her hands and placed them on his head, softly stroking her fingers through his short hair, smiling slightly as he let out a soft moan at her deft touch, a common occurrence these last months. "Sometimes", she said softly. "I miss mama and little Egg…and papa's songs, he song such sweet songs to me", she said as her voice wavered slightly. "But if the rebellion hadn't happened, I wouldn't have you, Caraxes and Maelys would never have been hatched…perhaps it is cruel to say it, I will always miss them, but I wouldn't trade you for the world little brother. You are my best friend", she sniffled slightly and Daeron turned around and grabbed Rhaenys in a hug. "Your right Rhae, I will always miss what could have been, and I swear", his eyes hardened as he stared into her eyes, so eerily similar to his own. "I swear by all the gods in the world, that we will have our revenge, men like Tywin Lannister and Robert Baratheon will have no place in OUR kingdoms".
Rhaenys smiled slightly, returning his hard stare. "We will take back our home, with Fire and Blood", she placed a slight kiss on his nose, giggling slightly as Daeron yelped in pain. "Does it hurt much"? she asked, softer now with slight concern showing in her eyes. Daeron returned to his previous position, shaking his head slightly, "no less than I deserve. My footwork was sloppy and I should have retreated instead of trying to press the fight". Rhaenys giggled slightly, "But then you wouldn't be you little brother, from what we have learnt of our family you are very much like Prince Daemon, though you share qualities with Daeron the good too", she added hastily as Daeron frowned at the first comparison.
Prince Daemon was a very skilled warrior no doubts, perhaps the greatest his family had produced since Maegor the Cruel, yet he had vices too. Hungry for power his entire life had been spent trying to become King, and had the Dance of Dragons ended differently he would have ruled as King Consort besides his wife and sixteen year younger wife and niece Rhaenyra, yet he died a year before the Dance ended. His legacy lived on however, both himself and Rhaenys were descended from the Targaryen Prince and once King-of-the-Stepstones, and history would remember him for his impressive feat of defeating the quit skilled himself Prince Aemond who rode Vhagar, a dragon twice as large as his own Caraxes whom shared a name with Daeron's own dragon.
"And you sweet sister should consider a name change yourself, you're as much a warrior queen as Visenya ever were", he teased her, only to yelp as she poked him in the side before resuming her grooming of his hair. "I prefer little brother, to consider myself very much more like Princess Rhaenys, the Queen who never was", she said with a tone of finality. Princess Rhaenys, the wife of a Velaryon and mother to Prince Daemon's second wife had also fought on the side of Princess Rhaenyra during the Dance, and had saved a lot of the forces loyal to Rhaenyra's side by fearlessly attacking both Prince Aemon on Vhagar and the rival claimant to the throne Aegon II on his dragon Sunfyre. Though she and her dragon Melys lost their lives her heroic end breathed new life and inspiration into Rhaenyra's followers, and both Aegon and his dragon were both badly wounded, forcing Aegon to spend over a year in a near coma as he recuperated.
Daeron laughed. "You certainly have her spirit sweet sister", closing his eyes again both he and Rhaenys just sat in silence in the bath, the only noise was the slight sloshing of water as Rhaenys stroked his hair. "How in the gods name do you make your hair so fast"? she asked. Three moons ago when the dragons hatched the conflagration had burnt away all his hair and now if fell well below his shoulder, and thankfully the colour had changed slightly after the incident. Where before it was the platinum blonde that made Daeron feel like a bloody Malfoy it was now a more silvery white, almost like snow. "Wouldn't you like to know Rhae"? he teased slightly
Giving his hair a slight tug that produced a wince from him she grinned. "Yes brother I would like to know, and King or not, sister…Knows best, yes I know", Daeron interrupted her last words as he knew exactly what she was going to say, having used that argument for years, and like always he felt like indulging her, after all, he never had a true family before and the fact that she reminded him greatly of both Hermione and Lune had had troubles saying no. "If you must know sister dearest", he let out another wince as she gave his hair another tug while whispering 'play nice'. "My potions have many uses as you know, and a simple hair growth potion is child's play".
Rhaenys slapped her forehead slightly while muttering "I should have known". While Daeron trusted both his Uncle Benjen, Ser Oswell and former Grand Admiral Velaryon with his life, having guiltily employed some passive legilimency on them to ensure if they were loyal or not, there were no others in the entire world he trusted as much as Rhaenys. She had discovered him one night when he was practicing his magic and had quickly determined that he was lying to her as he tried to tell her that he had no idea of what was going on. And, after a few hours of begging, false tears and even threathening to run off to 'nuncle Ben, as she called Benjen he had relented. He had told her of his origins and of the many things he could do. He had tried at first to make it seem as if it were just random memories that came to him in his dreams, yet she had quickly called him out on his lies again, and so he had admitted the whole truth. He really should have known better than to believe that someone who reminded him so much of two of his former closest friends would not be brilliant enough to figure it out. At first he had been afraid that she would either think him lying again, or worse deem him not to be family anymore, yet in the spirit of both Hermione and Lune she had seized him in a hug and told him that he would always be her brother and best friend.
The downside of course was that she had immediately seized upon the moment to demand tutoring or she'd tell that he was practicing magic. Perhaps unsurprisingly considering their blood she proved to have some talents with magic, her structured and inquisitive mind allowed her to learn the basics of occlumency rather quicker than he'd thought, of course not having a soul shard of a Dark Lord in her head as well being in the hormonal hell known as puberty probably aided her in that endeavour. He groaned suddenly at where his thoughts had led him, which immediately led to Rhaenys questioning on what was wrong.
"I have to go through puberty all over again", that was going to be hell he just knew it. Puberty was bad enough in a modern society but in this rather strange blend of medieval Europe and other various cultures he had no idea how he would cope. "Puberty"? Rhaenys questioned the new word, having learnt several over the years as Daeron had a much wider variety in his vocabulary.
Blushing slightly he started stammering as he tried to find out how to explain puberty, suddenly aware that he was naked, leaning on his equally naked almost ten year old sister. "The ah…umm…puberty is the process a girl or a boy go through as their, um, bodies grow up into manhood or womanhood". Rhaenys stopped stroking his hair for a moment before speaking again, and from the tone of her voice he just knew that she was enjoying this. "Are you blushing Dae"? she giggled.
Swearing under his breath he shook his head in denial even as his face heated up. "Alright, alright little brother I'll stop your torment", her giggling didn't subside however and Daeron mentally sighed as he crossed over yet another victory to his sister's already impressive lead. "You know sweet brother…we really need to do something about your hair", she said suddenly, and Daeron abruptly turned to look at her, her face screwed up in concentration.
Watching her warily he stroked his hair protectively. "What do you mean"? She grinned slightly as she stood up and walked over to the washstand, returning with a couple of shears and a razor. "Come here little brother", she said as she gestured for him to retake his seat between her legs. "Trust me, we'll have your hair looking good". While he had his reservations he knew that it would be better to acquiesce to her request, lest he be nagged to death, she would have her way sooner rather than later so it was with a great sigh that he slumped back to his previous position.
"Oh cease your whinging", she said sharply as she started to run her hands through his hair, the sound of the shears removing large amounts of his hair accompanying her as she hummed to herself. So he just sat there, lost in his thoughts as Rhaenys worked on his hair. Hi thoughts drifting from his past friends and what they were doing to how he could retake the Iron Throne, knowing full well that the only way he and Rhaenys could live in…relative security was to retake the throne of his forefathers. "There, all done", Rhaenys' voice broke him out of his musings and he made his way out of the tub and walked over to the washbasin where a mirror stood.
His fears that Rhaenys had ruined his hair were unfounded. The hair on his sides had been shaved almost completely off, while the hair on top of his head was all pulled back along with the hair in his neck all pulled together in a thick braid that ended between his shoulder blades. Joining him she pulled him into a hug from behind, "Do you like it"? she asked with a small hint of worry in her voice. Grinning he turned and kissed her forehead. "I love it, I look like a Viking warrior", he said. Sadly his words failed to receive the attention he was hoping for and he was forced to spend the next hour explaining what he knew of Vikings, their culture, history and so forth. Needless to say Rhaenys found his stories fascinating as always and found herself agreeing that Vikings in general sounded awesome, remarking that they seemed to be a mix of northeners and the ironborn, a comparison he was forced to agree with.
"Your Grace", the hard voice of Ser Alliser came from outside the door. Lord Admiral Velaryon has returned, as has the guests you asked Magister Illyrio to invite".
Daeron shared a look with Rhaenys before informing Ser Alliser that they were coming. Drying themselves off they started dressing themselves. Rhaenys placed a few pins to keep her luscious black mane in place while donning a rich sleeveless red dress, while Daeron dressed up in black leather breeches, a black shirt and primarily black gambeson with a high red collar and the three headed red dragon on his chest. Finishing his outfit were a pair of calf length boots and Dark Sister at his side.
Stepping out into the hallway he gave a nod to Ser Alliser while offering his arm to Rhaneys who took it with a well practiced hand. "Lead the way to the Lord Admiral first Ser, and make sure to have the good Magister keep our guests happy". "Yes Your Grace", Ser Alliser replied as he lead them to one of the smaller dining rooms where himself and Rhaenys had most of their lessons, as well as where Benjen, Ser Oswell and his other highest ranking advisors held their meetings. In the centre of the room stood a large table, filled with maps, books and various scrolls of parchment, twelve guards clad in gleaming half plate, decorated with the green seahorse of House Velaryon, each holding a halberd in their hands. Already seated at the table were Benjen, Ser Oswell, Illyrio, Lord Admiral Velaryion, a man who looked a lot like him only younger and another boy who must be the man's son, looking about fourteen. Ser Jeremy and Ser Richard stood silently at either side of the head of the table while Ser Alliser whispered something to Illyrio before taking up a position at the door.
Illyrio clapped his hands and half a dozen serving maids, each with a bronze collar about their necks came out with plates full of steaming food and large pitchers of various liquids, grabbing one of the servants by the wrist he whispered a few words to her before allowing the servants to remove themselves from the room. Taking a seat at the head of the table Daeron turned his gaze upon the Admiral as Rhaenys took up the seat to his right. "Welcome back Lord Admiral, I believe you have some introductions to make? As well as news to share".
Lucifarus Velarion inclined his head slightly as he bumped the shoulder of the man seated next to him who was staring at Daeron with wide eyes and open mouth in shock. "My nephew Monford of the House Velaryon and new Master of Driftmark, High Tide and Lord of the Tides and his bastard son Aurane Waters, Your Grace".
Lord Monford shook himself out of his stupor and knelt to Daeron as he placed his sword on the ground, his bastard son repeating his father. "Forgive me for staring Your Grace, you bear an uncanny resemblance to your father. I and the men sworn to my House swear allegiance to you Your Grace".
Daeron rose and walked over to him, gesturing for Monford and his son to retake their seats. "I thank you Lord Velaryon, both for your oath of allegiance, and for your House's never ending loyalty. Not that I take it as an insult but I wonder why you brought your bastard here", Daeron said as he inspected the boy who carried for the most part Valyrian features, with violet eyes and pale hair, thought more blond than silver.
"The boy was brought at my urging Your Grace," Luciferys broke in. "The boy brings…tension with my nephew's Lady wife, and could be of far more use to you than stuck on Driftmark earning her ire", he shot a smirk at his nephew who grumbled slightly.
Turning his gaze upon the boy a few years his senior Daeron stroked his chin slightly. "Is this what you want"? he asked sharply and as the boy looked at his father Daeron spoke up again this time with a much sharper tone. "Do not look to your father bastard. When I ask a question I expect the truthful answer, not the answer of your father".
Aurane Waters blushed slightly, no doubt angered at being called a bastard but replied nonetheless. "I do Your Grace, there is little for me at Driftmark, especially since the birth of my trueborn brother". Monford looked slightly saddened at the bitterness in his son's voice.
"Lord Monford, do you love your children? Do you want what is best for them"? Daeron asked. "Yes Your Grace, I do". Daeron nodded. "What you cannot provide without slighting your Lady wife I can. Serve me well Aurane, and I will see to it that you're given your rightful name and a keep of your own, as long as you accept that you have no claim to Driftmark while your Lord father and his children still live".
The bastard almost dropped his goblet in shock at the news. "Th-thank you, Your Grace. I'll serve loyally, 'pon my words it is so". Daeron smiled slightly at his eagerness. "In time you may indeed thank me, yet not today, and certainly not tomorrow. Ser Richard, Ser alliser", the two Kingsguard snapped to at their names. "You two will be responsible for his learning, do not hold back". The two Kingsguard shared a nasty smirk as they looked at the boy. "Oh I think we'll be able to whip him into shape Your Grace".
Daeron grinned as Aurane's face suddenly took on a worried look. "Ser Jeremy, escort Aurane here to a room and then return". The Knight nodded as he led the young man from the room, as soon as the door closed Daeron turned his attention back to Luciferys. "You have news from Westeros I take it"?
The old Admiral nodded as he took a drink from his wine goblet. "War has broken out in the Seven Kingdoms. Balon Greyjoy has rebelled against the Iron Throne and declared Ironborn independence. Launching surprise attacks they burned the fleet at Lannisport at anchor, while sailing up the Mander to reave in the fertile lands in the reach, Seaguard in the RIverlands is currently under siege. They control the town itself while Lord Mallister still holds the castle. The Usurper has called his armies to him while Stannis prepares the Royal Fleet".
Looking around at the others he raised his glass of water for a toast. "Here's to whomever burned the Lannister fleet". The men roared with laughter as they raised their glasses. "Now My Lords, any thoughts"?
The Lords looked confused for a moment before Oswell spoke, his deep voice cutting through the confusion. "While it seems as a good time to strike we should wait. You are, pardon my saying so Your Grace still so young that the idea of an almost decade long regentship will not appeal to the Lords of Westeros. Also we are still lacking on men and ships…Thank you Ser Oswell that is enough", Daeron interrupted him as he held up his hand.
"Men and ships", Daeron said as he looked at his advisors. "What's more territory of our own. Mayhaps the North will declare for me and perhaps it won't. Dorne will most likely follow me due to my beloved sister", he stroked Rhaenys' arm, enjoying the brief look of shook that crossed Lord Monford's face as he realised whom the young girl was. "But even if both the North and Drone, as well as other various houses loyal to my family were to flock to my banner I would still be a King without a keep of my own. A guest at whichever keep I chose to stay in…if I am to reclaim my Grandfather's throne I must do so from a position of strength with a keep of my own and an army at my back, and I wonder what you have planned for that My Lords", he finished as he stared all of them in the eyes. Rhaenys grinned slightly having learnt of his plans already.
"Your Grace…" Monford spoke haltingly, all the other Lords keeping their silence, knowing full well that such plans had not been laid down proper.
"Worry not Lord Monford, I had already started laying down the foundations for such a thing, your presence here is actually a boon to me. If given the choice My Lord, how many of the Lords sworn to Dragonstone do you think would follow me"? "Houses Celtigar and Bar Emmon without question. Sunglass I would be more careful about Your Grace".
"I see", Daeron said thoughtfully. "Celtigar and Bar Emmon, would they keep my existence secret you think"? Monford nodded. "Yes Your Grace, I can guarantee it".
"Very well. How long time do you have before the Royal Fleet will sail? I assume all of you sworn to Dragonstone are part of that foray"? Monford stroked his chin slightly. "The fleet is due to sail within two moons, Lord Stannis wish for as many ships as possible to join him before heading out, and all the Lords of the Narrow Sea are part of that fleet, we control between us perhaps a quarter of the Royal Fleet in our squadrons".
Daeron smiled at that. "Then your taks is this. You will speak with Lords Celtigar and Bar Emmon, inform them of my existence but not more. They are to send at least one ship each led by good and loyal men. In addition, I need the three of you to figure out a way to steal as many ships as possible from the fleet during the voyage. Do not be over eager in this Lord Monford. I'd rather you send me one ship crewed by loyal men, than no ships at all. Have loyal men placed on as many ships you are certain you can take and have them taken. Once the fleet is to sail through the Stepstones the ships your men will steal, as well as the ships you, Celtigar and Bar Emmon will send from your personal forces will turn about and head for Braavos. Once in Braavos, Ser Jeremy will meet whomever you place in command and turn the fleet towards Pentos".
Monford, whose brow had furrowed during Daerons explanation suddenly laughed, even as the rest of the men in the room, barring Monford's uncle still struggled to see the point of the large detours, and Monford was happy to explain Daeron's reasoning. "The Stepstones are notorious, both for the fact that it is filled with pirates as well as factions from Lys, Tyrosh and Myr, all struggling for control, in addition the waters themselves can be treacherous for unskilled sailors. Losing perhaps a dozen to twenty ships would not raise too much of a fuss with Stannis, especially as the size of the fleet means some will have to travel through during nighttime…we can easily ensure the ships we are sending and stealing will be at the back, and forced to travel through during the night".
Benjen and the others nodded, now understanding the reasoning. "Why sail to Braavos thought? Instead of directly to Penthos, nephew"?
Daeron took on a more serious look on his face. "Most of the men, both those loyal to us, as well as those whom surrender during the capture will not know why this is being done. Once they arrive in Braavos, they will be told that the fleet will join the rightful Targaryen King. By not speaking my name they will believe it to be Viserys, every man will then be given the choice of staying on and swearing fealty of leaving the ships to make their own way in the world, whether it is to return to Westeros or stay in Essos, the choice will be given".
At this several of the men voiced disagreements, only Ser Oswell's and Benjen's face holding approval.
"My grandfather", Daeron said as he held up a hand for silence. "My grandfather was a vicious tyrant, ruled by fear and madness. He burned my nuncle Brandon as well as my grandfather Rickard Stark. His insanity and cruelty aided along by Tywin Lannister's lust for power nearly destroyed my family. Today there are only four of us left, two of them still living almost alone in Braavos, being used as a distraction to the Usurper to keep myself and my sister hidden".
Sighing he tiredly stroked a hand over his face. The shame he felt at using his aunt and uncle as bait as well as the fiery rage running through him at the thought of both Aerys and Tywin threatening to shatter his calm. "I intend to be King, and as King I will more than once be forced to make hard choices. But I will not needlessly slaughter perhaps hundreds of men whom are only doing their duty to their Lord, THAT is not the King I intend to be My Lords".
"This seemed to placate his advisors though he could see that they still had some reservations. "That will be one part of gathering a fleet and an army, yet there are more things to be done. The Lord Admiral managed to abscond with over two-hundred-thousand gold dragons, money that have barely been used at all, doing nothing more than to ensure the men I have here in Penthos are fed, have a place to stay and some to spend for their…personal use. If we continue to be careful with the money which I intend to make sure of we can keep an army of ten-thousand on retainer for at least another two decades, and I intend to have another revenue stream by then".
Taking a bite of the venison on his plate he washed it down with some water before continuing. "Once the rebellion is over you nuncle", he pointed to Benjen, "Will return to Westeros along with the Crannogmen and one hundred of the Lord Admiral's men".
Benjen blinked before protesting. "I will still have protection nuncle, I assume you will still continue to allow me residence here Magister"? Daron asked Illyrio who nodded, swallowing a greasy sausage. "You will always be welcome here Your Grace", he said as he wiped grease away from his fat jowls.
"And I intend to see you well rewarded Magister, were it not for you my sister and I would quite possibly be dead". Turning his gaze back to Benjen who still looked rebellious Daeron tried to placate his uncle. "It is not a mark against you nuncle, quite the opposite actually. There are no one I trust more than you, and everyone else here with the exception of Lord Monford are either supposed to be dead, have duties of their own or avowed traitors".
Grasping Rhaenys' hand he smiled at Benjen. "Upon returning to Westoros you will start in the North and work your way down through the Riverlands, into the Reach, onto the Crownlands and then the Stormlands before finishing up in Dorne. You will visit very city or large town and recruit as many you can to your new Sellsword Company. Lure them in however you like, promises of good pay, honour, glory…whatever you can, bastards should be easy enough with the promise of legitimization, your elder brother is the best friend of the 'King' after all, surely he would be able to sway 'His Grace' into legitimizing a few bastards".
"Nuncle Ned can probably help you by letting you use the ravens at Winterfell to spread the word. I assume there will be more than enough Lords willing to give you their sons so they can make their fortune. Once a year has passed you will return to Penthos".
Benjen nodded, grateful at the chance of seeing his brother and nephew again, who knew perhaps Ned had managed to get a few more wolf cubs by this time. "As you command Your Grace, I assume I will have money with me? An army does march on its stomach after all". Daeron and the others around the table grinned. "You'll have twenty-five-thousand dragons with you, just make sure to purchase new armor for those going with you. You are after all Sellwords, not men of house Reed and Velaryon". Finishing his meal Daeron looked over at Illyrio. "Magister, I thank you for the meal, if you could escort Rhaenys Oswell and I to our guests please? The rest of you should get some rest", he said as he nodded at the others in the room.
Leading the way, Daeron, Rhaenys and Oswell followed Illyrio through his manse, stopping only to pick up their dragons whom were resting inside a pair of cages covered with cloth. They entered a room that contained a few men finely dressed, a man wo was dressed in elaborate leathers with a long spear leaning on the wall next to him. Accompanying the man was a dark haired woman whom, even heavily with child was still very beautiful.
As they entered Daeron and Rhaenys placed the cages on the table before looking at the guests, most of them looked curiously at Daeron, his obvious valyrian features as well as openly wearing Targaryen colours and insignia raised their curiosity. The exception was the obviously Dornish man who gaped at Daeron.
"My friends", began Illyrio. "Let me introduce His Grace, Daeron of the House Targaryen. Third of his name, rightful King of the Andals, The Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kindoms and Protector of the Realm, and his sister the Princess Rhaenys, Princess of Dragonstone".
At that last name the Dornish man collapsed to his knees as he started weeping, "Rhaenys, is it truly you"? he asked in a whisper.
Rhaenys looked at the man while trying to stem her tears, and at a small nudge from Daeron flung herself at the man hugging him tightly. Daeron let the two have their moment before walking over to Prince Oberyn, whom had been invited by Illyrio at Daeron's request, Oswell following closely behind.
"Prince Oberyn", Daeron said, making Oberyn look up at him with eyes that still held a degree of shock. "I am Daeron, Rhaenys' brother…and son of Lyanna Stark". Oberyn narrowed his eyes slightly at his mother's name. "I can understand if you…do not like my mother or I, but for the love you hold for Rhaenys, and the love you held for my brother and stepmother I hope that you can put aside your anger and work with me".
Oberyn swallowed tightly as he let go of Rhaenys and stood up. "I did not hate your mother, it is your father I blame. Perhaps your mouther should have known better, but she was very young and Rhaegar would not have had difficulties making her fall for him, nor running off…especially since the alternative was to be shipped off as a bed warmer to Robert Baratheon", he spat on the floor as he spoke the name of the usurper, but Daeron sighed in relief. "If you would all please take a seat", he said as he gestured towards the table. He took his seat at the head of the table, Illyrio sat down to his left while Rhaenys took her usual seat at his right. Oberyin and his lover Ellaria Sand as he introduced her sat down next to Rhaenys, Oswell took up his position just behind Daeron as the rest of the men seated themselves at the table.
"Now, for introductions, we have with us Tycho Nestoris as well as two of his associates from the Iron Bank of Braavos as well as Anto Veramir representing the Sealord of Braavos, A few of Illyrio's closest friends and fellow Magisters here from Penthos and of course Prince Oberyn from Dorne, and lastly the exiled Prince Xhalabar Xho of the Summer Isles. I have asked each of you to come here to aid me in my goal to reclaim the Iron Throne from Robert Baratheon and his Lannister dogs".
No sooner had he spoken before Tycho Nestoris replied. "We have nothing but good relations with the current regime, why would we back you"?
Daeron smiled disarmingly at the Iron Bankier. "Because of what you will get from it. My return to Westeros will not be now, it will take time and patience". "For some time now Pentos and Braavos have enjoyed peace and good trade with each other something I hope will continue. Both of you are loosing profit however from both raiders in the Stepstones and from the triarchies of Tyrosh, Myr and Lys, I intend to change that".
While Nestoris looked unconvinced Anto as well as the Pentoshi Magisters looked at him with interest. "How would you do this"? Illyrio asked.
"Quite simply actually. Lys, Myr and Tyrosh have just started up a new all out war for the disputed lands, and whenever they are done warring they will be depleted for some time. I intend to use their future weakened state to seize the Stepstones for my own, and with partnership from Braavos, Pentosh, the Summer Isles and Dorne as well as the patronage of the Iron Bank should be able to seize and hold them indefinitely with little trouble". Daeron grabbed a goblet and filled it with water before taking a sip.
"The promise of future rewards would not be enough of course. As long as the Stepstones are in my hands your ships would be allowed safe passage under protection of my fleet, skilled pilots would board to guide them through, and free berths would be given on all the isles. I would ask that each of you leave some ships and soldiers under my command there, in return I and my forces will always come to your aid for however long our partnership lasts". Looking at Tycho he and Rhaenys grinned before removing the cloths that covered the cages and opened them to release the two dragons, almost laughing as everyone except Illyrio jumped in shock and gazed in awe and trepidation at the two dragons who were already bigger than a normal dog.
"Three moons ago, these two dragons were the size of a small cat, at the rate they are growing they will be large enough to ride in a few years…these dragons, would be at the forefront of every battle against anyone who try to attack you. These dragons will win us Westeros".
Silence reigned throughout the room before Xalabar raised his voice. "What help can I provide? I am after all an exile".
Daeron nodded at him. "So I've heard. Over the last four years you have petitioned the Usurper for help retaking the Summer Isles, yet his Lords refuse to follow him to war…their loss for not knowing how war is waged on the Summer Isles. How many men would you need to retake your position as Prince"?
Xalabar looked impressed at someone knowing how things were run on the Summer Isles. War taking places on certain days divined by their priests and resembling small tourneys than actual battles, more often than not leaving most of the combatants alive rather than dead. "I would need sixteen good men to retake the Isles Your Grace", he said.
"And you shall have them, My nuncle will leave for Westeros as soon as Greyjoy's rebellion is put down to recruit men, I am certain there will be more than one skilled Knight or former soldier, in addition two of my Kingsguard will be at your disposal for the time it will take, and from what I hear Prince Oberyn will be more than willing for the chance of…sampling the finer men and women in the Isles", at this Oberyn snorted as he tried to contain his laughter. "Indeed I would, you can count on my support, one Prince to another", Oberyn said with a grin, causing Xalabar to smile. "So in short you should be back in control of your home within, shall we say three years at the most"? Xalabar smiled widely and bowed his head respectfully
Oberyn took the word next. "You have kept Rhaenys safe, and you intend I assume to bring Tywin Lannister and his dogs to justice"? at Daerons nod he grinned. "Then I believe I can safely say on behalf of my brother Prince Doran and all of Dorne that you will have the spears of Dorne when the time comes Your Grace, both to conquer the Stepstones and Westeros".
"Pentos will agree to this Your Grace…should Braavos agree, we are interested in keeping the peace and good relations we currently have", one of Illyrio's friends spoke up, and all eyes turned to the Braavosi. "The Sealord will definitely support this venture, as long as the Iron Bank agrees to endorse it", Anto, the Sealord's representative said.
Nestoris however still seemed to be unconvinced, "The Iron Bank is still not convinced, business with the Iron Throne is good, there is some debt but so far they have made all payments in time". Daeron had been ready for this response and had asked Illyrio to provide him with information from Varys for this exact purpose.
"No doubt you speak true Master Nestoris, yet all is not well. In six years the Iron Throne has run up nearly a million in debt to the Iron Bank, and another one and a half million to Tywin Lannister, and as of this moment they are about to embark on another war. I can understand the Iron Bank not wishing to supply direct support for an attack on one of its biggest clients, but the Stepstones are not one of your clients. I will only require your endorsement and support on this venture", draining his goblet he stroked Caraxes softly over its neck, listening as the dragon cooed in delight.
"Should you aid me in this venture I will pledge here and now that when I retake Westeros, I will honour whatever debt the Iron Throne owes the bank, in addition I would like for the Iron Bank to be more involved in Westeros".
This drew and interested look on Nestoris' face as he listened fully for the first time that night. "DO tell what you mean Your Grace", he said.
'I have you now', Daeron thought. "Partnership with the bank would be much better than to constantly be in debt. I will offer the position of Master of Coin to a representative of the Iron Bank. In return for services rendered the Iron Bank would receive five percent of the Crown's revenue after expenses each year, on the provision that said representative do his or her best to provide good council and not deliberately place the Crown in debt. Lastly ships from Braavos, Pentos, and the Summer Isles would receive better tariffs and cheaper berths in all territories controlled by the Crown".
Nestoris smiled at last, and Daeron could see Illyrio raise his eyebrows in surprise and…was that approval? 'learn something new everyday', Daeron thought. "You have the papers for this drawn up yes"? Nestoris asked. Daeron laughed as he handed out parchments to the various representatives, each one held the terms he had offered, and after reading them through thoroughly everyone signed. Standing up Daeron raised his goblet, "Friends. To future prosperity".
All of them raised their glasses and drank deep, before starting to mingle about speaking in friendly tones. Stifling a yawn Daeron walked over to where Rhaenys was speaking with Oberyn and Ellaria. "It is late and I will retire for bed, I hope Prince Oberyn we can speak more together tomorrow yes"? Oberyn nodded and hugged Rhaenys again before bidding the two of them goodnight. Following him Rhaenys laid down on their bed and kissed his forehead before hugging him close. "Goodnight little brother", she whispered as she closed her eyes, Daeron just grunted slightly, already fast asleep.
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Braavos. 7th month 289 AC
Outside a house with a red door young Daenerys Targaryen hugged her brother close as she wept into his chest. Viserys himself was trying to hold back his tears as he stared at the closed door. Ser Willem Darry, the man who had rescued them from Dragonstone after mother died birthing her had just died from a fever and his servants had not even waited for his body to cool before throwing them out onto the streets. Viserys had barely had time to grab mother's crown before they were left outside alone. He had raged and yelled at the closed door, promising to turn the wrath of the dragon upon them once he came into his throne but it had all been for nothing. The door remained closed and finally giving up he had grabbed her. His little sister and all he had left in the world and hugged her close. "Come Dany, we are done with this place". Sniffling and wiping away her tears Dany had held Viserys' hand tightly as she followed him through the sweeping streets of Braavos, for years afterwards she would always dream and wish to return back to the house with the red door and the lemon tree in its garden.
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Oldtown, Arch Maester Marwin's study. 7th month 289 AC
Arch Meister Marwin stared at the glass candle before him. Three moons ago the glass candles in his study, always dark as obsidian and unlit had suddenly burst into light, shocking him to his core. After the brief explosion of light the candles had dimmed to the point that they were barely shining, yet for each turn of the moon they grew in strength and so he had carefully studied them ever since. As he sat there gazing his mind was suddenly engulfed by swirling images, too quick to catch any amount of detail before suddenly the flood stopped and he gazed at two small black dragons inside a dark room. As soon as he could grasp what he was seeing the vision ceased and he was again reduced to staring at the candle which had dimmed slightly again.
He did not know how long he sat there in amazement, dragons alive again. He felt almost giddy before a horrible realization struck him. He was one of very few Maesters who not only had a fascination with magic but yearned to learn more about it. If the other Arch Maesters should learn of this, hells if even a single Maester learnt of this they would stop at nothing to see the two magnificent beasts destroyed. Rising from his chair he sprinted towards the deepest vaults in the Citadel, he needed to gather all the few remaining books remaining on dragonlore and study them. Then once he knew more he would decide what to do, but if there was one thing he was certain of it was that he would do what he could to protect the dragons. Proper magic had not been seen in centuries and he intended to see it return to the world once more.
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Illyrio's manse, Pentos. 7th month 289 AC
It had been three moons since she had woken up. Something had called her from her husband and sister-wife's side in the great beyond. Once she awoke she had gazed in wonder at her grey-blue transparent complexion and she realized that she had been granted some sort of reprieve from the Stranger's grasp. Wandering about Dragonstone she had tried speaking to its inhabitants but none could hear or even see her. They could certainly feel her however when she passed her ethereal body through them, and she had amused herself for some time by doing this as she stayed in Dragonstone to try and learn the current affairs of the realm.
After some time, she grew concerned. There were no dragons abound, no dragon eggs. The banners and decorations signifying her house had been removed or replaced by Baratheon banners of all things so it was with great sadness that she left her birthplace and first home behind, following the feeling that was pulling at her senses across the narrow sea until she arrived in Pentos. Following the tugging sensation, she came upon a great manse and in one of the rooms she finally found what she had been searching for. There in the bed lay two young children curled up in each other, that despite the colouring of the girl could not be anything but one of the descendants of her beloved husband and sister, and sleeping at the foot of the bed lay two young dragons.
Smiling fully for the first time since she woke Visenya Targaryen woved to watch over the two young ones, regardless if they could see her or not.
Aight, big one today. As you can see Daeron has not been idle, and has used his knowledge of the Free Cities and other realms to try and set the stage for his return, the first being the capture of the Stepstones as a staging point for future invasion. Though don't get your hopes up, it will be some time still before he can launch an invasion, he needs to gather an army and make sure it is outfitted and trained properly before that point.
Hope you liked the further insight into his and Rhaenys' relationship that is currently as much BFF's as it is brother and sister. As for the taboo of brother and sister, Daeron never really had familial feelings/relationships growing up, so while some part of him knows it is supposed to be wrong, most of the years that means something to him were in the wizarding world, where incest is quite normal (though not at the level of brother/sister that we know off). This will mean that while he has some reservations of it he is far from as…puritanical in his opinions about it than say Hermione would be.
As always read and review.
Cheers Tellie571
