Drakon sat stoically in the Lord's chair as a servant set a small table in front of him. Waving the man away, he took a quill and dipped it in the inkwell before he started writing on a sheet of parchment. He wrote
Princess Daenerys,
My name is Drakon Blackfyre. I do not know what you may have learned, but my House is descended from yours. The blood of Old Valyria runs in my veins, just as it does yours. When I was a boy, barely able to walk, your father, King Aerys, saved my life. He brought me to the Red Keep, where I grew up with your brother, Rhaegar. I considered him my brother, and he was the finest man I have ever known.
On the day that the War of the Usurper ended, and King's Landing fell, I was in the Red Keep. I watched as Tywin Lannister's army sacked the city. I had made a promise to Rhaegar, before he left for war, to protect his family. I failed. The false Knight, Gregor Clegane, butchered Rhaegar's wife and children, while Jaime Lannister betrayed his oath to your father and stabbed him in the back. On that day, I failed my promise to Rhaegar, my brother.
For the past eighteen years, I have worked toward ousting the Usurper and returning your family to the Iron Throne. Now, the Usurper is dead, but I am still no closer to avenging your family. False kings ravage the country, bloodying one another in a desperate attempt to emerge victorious.
I am writing this letter to prove my loyalty, to you and House Targaryen. The person who carries it is my agent, and will serve you faithfully.
Should you ever have any doubt of my intentions, know this: House Blackfyre is descended from House Targaryen. My father and all my ancestors waged rebellions against your House, in an effort to win the Iron Throne. I intend to change that legacy. Rhaegar showed me how high House Targaryen can reach, and it is because of him that I swear my true allegiance to you. I will see you on the Iron Throne, and I will make my House one that my children and the people of Westeros can be proud of.
Drakon Blackfyre, the First of My Name, Head of House Blackfyre and servant of House Targaryen.
Just then, the doors at the far end of the Great Hall opened, and Rona Grey entered along with another woman. She wore foreign clothes, most likely Braavosi in origin, and she had a long, thin rapier at her side. Once the two women reached the foot of the steps in front of the Lord's Chair, Rona bowed and said "My lord, may I present Olene of Braavos".
"My lord" the other woman said in accented, but flawless, common tongue as she bowed.
The Dragons on his shoulders made slight interested chirps. "What are your skills?" he asked the woman, interlocking his fingers.
"I have been studying the Water Dance of Braavos all my life" the woman replied in her accented voice. "I can also speak many languages".
Drakon arched an eyebrow. "Can you speak Dothraki?" he asked in the Horse-Lords' tongue.
"I am not as fluent in it as other languages, but I speak it well enough" Olene replied, the language seeming natural.
Drakon nodded. "How is your Valyrian?" he asked, switching to the language of his ancestors.
The Braavosi woman stood a little straighter. "I am much more proficient in Valyrian, my lord. I have studied it for many years". Her grasp of the language was excellent, and she sounded quite fluent in the old tongue.
"I can see why Rona recommended you" Drakon said. He proceeded to fold the letter he had written before picking up a container of wax from the corner of the table. Holding it close to the silver Dragon on his right shoulder, he said "Dracarys". The small creature breathed a thin flame onto the container, which easily melted the wax. Drakon then poured some of the black liquid on top of the folds of the letter. Putting the container away, he pressed his signet ring, which he wore on his right middle finger, into the wax. After removing the ring, he saw the three-headed Dragon seal clearly on the black wax.
With the letter in hand, he bid the servant to take the table away. He then walked down the steps, handing the letter to the Braavosi woman. "You will go to Pentos. From there, you will go east, to the Red Waste, and find Princess Daenerys. When you find her, you will have brought a second horse, with the saddlebags of both steeds filled with as much provisions and supplies as they can carry. You will give these supplies to the Princess and her people as a gesture of good faith, and you will present this letter to her". The Braavosi woman took the letter, but Drakon maintained his grip on it and said menacingly "If you open this letter before giving it to Princess Daenerys, I will know".
Olene nodded in understanding. Drakon then let her take the letter before she and Rona left the Great Hall. The Dragons on his shoulders gently nuzzled their small heads against his cheeks, and he stroked their necks in response.
The following morning, he sat at the head of the Council chamber. Jocelyn's seat was still beside him; he couldn't yet bring himself to move it. A servant had tried, a fortnight after her death; the man was still unable to walk. Rhaegon hopped down onto the table, his silver hide brilliantly gleaming from the torchlight, and curled into himself as he rested on the crimson tablecloth. Maelion elected to remain on his perch, intently gazing at each of the gathered advisors.
"Balon Greyjoy has declared himself King of the Iron Islands" Maester Lucas reported. "His son, Theon, was sent to negotiate an alliance between him and Robb Stark. Needless to say, the result was not to the Stark man's expectation".
"I expect he'll have his men raiding along the coast" Drakon surmised.
"Indeed" Ser Hugo agreed. "The Ironborn may be one of the most unpleasant groups in the Seven Kingdoms, but they're damn fine sailors and raiders".
"My birds in King's Landing tell me that Tyrion Lannister plans to wed Princess Myrcella to Prince Trystane Martell" Rona said.
Drakon glanced at the Spymaster. "Are you certain?" he asked her.
"There was some confusion" she admitted. "Apparently, there were several stories about the Princess' engagement that were making their way through the Red Keep".
"I suspect that was the Imp's doing" Drakon said, pausing to take a sip of wine. "We'd do well not to underestimate him; a man who reads for his entire life is not to be underestimated".
"How can someone be intelligent if all they've done in their life is read?" Simon asked skeptically.
Drakon gave him a withering look. "Because I have been reading my whole life" he said as Rhaegon growled at the bald man, almost as if to reinforce the seriousness of his point. Maelion growled as well, raising his wings in an effort to appear as threatening as he could. Drakon calmed them both down, gently shushing them as he stroked their necks. Simon took a drink of his own wine, having gotten the message. "We'll re-convene tomorrow" the muscular man said, waving the others out.
They all bowed and left, with the exception of Maester Lucas. "My lord…" the young man began to say.
"What do you want?" Drakon curtly asked, cutting him off.
After a moment's hesitation, the Maester said "I have some concerns about your children. Jayne and the twins are hardly ever attending their lessons, and even when they do, they are having trouble learning. They are obviously still mourning the loss of your wife".
"We all mourn for her loss" Drakon icily reminded him.
"I understand that", the younger man said, "but it has been almost four months since Lady Jocelyn passed. Perhaps it is time to move on".
Drakon fixed Maester Lucas with a lethal stare as he slowly rose from his seat. "Move on?" he asked. "You ask me to move on from the death of my wife, the woman I loved, and my two unborn children? Get out". He then scooped Rhaegon into his hand before turning to look into the burning hearth. Hanging above the mantel was one of several special mounts that held the four swords comprising House Stormheart's sigil. After the death of the Usurper at Kirth's hand, Drakon had ordered Ser Hugo to take one sword down from every mount in the keep.
"You have said that you value family above all else" the young Maester continued. "You lost the only family you had ever known when the Rebellion ended, and you started over with a new one. You managed to make a life, to take back what the world had taken from you". He paused, then said "What happened was a terrible tragedy, but you cannot let it drag you into the depths of darkness. You have to move on, to honour your wife's memory and make this world a better place".
"GET OUT!" Drakon thundered, wheeling on the Maester. Rhaegon and Maelion growled at him, taking their cues from him. The young Maester visibly recoiled before he managed to collect himself and leave the Council chamber. Returning his gaze to the burning fire, Drakon felt his rage continue to boil for some time. In the past, Jocelyn had always been there to calm him down and prevent any significant outbursts, but Jocelyn was gone. She had given him sixteen years of happy marriage, three beautiful and talented children, and a gaping hole in his heart. Drakon almost found himself wishing that he had never known the sweet, intelligent, caring woman that he had come to love, if only to be spared from the pain he now felt.
As he stared into the flickering flames, the face of his fallen brother Rhaegar formed. Just as he had done after the death of Viserys, the man he had grown up with was staring back at him, accusingly mocking him for allowing himself to fall into the pit of despair. Before Drakon could give voice to his frustrations, another face joined Rhaegar's.
It was the last face Drakon ever wanted to see. Beside Rhaegar, Jocelyn looked back at him, silently chiding him for wallowing in grief and despair for so long. The last Blackfyre opened his mouth, but no words came out. As he looked into the face of his beloved, he knew that she and Rhaegar were right. Maester Lucas had been right; he had to move on, to accept what happened and live his life.
Rhaegon chirped curiously, and Drakon looked down at the silver Dragon. The small creature cocked its head to the side, and the muscular man smiled as he returned him to his perch. He then walked out of the Council chamber, making his way to his room. For the longest time, he simply stared out the window, gazing out at the keep he and Jocelyn had built. She had been as responsible for the hold's prosperity as anyone. She had been the one to establish trade and bring several merchants and their families to live there. If he had been left on his own to create a successful hold for himself, Drakon would have failed spectacularly.
"My lord" a voice called from the door.
"Ser Hugo" Drakon greeted neutrally, maintaining his gaze out the window.
"I hope I'm not intruding" the Knight said, taking a tentative step into the room.
Drakon sighed, closing his eyes. "What do you want?" he asked, turning to look at his Captain of the Guard. The muscular man lost whatever anger he had when he saw Ser Hugo holding a bottle of wine. A few minutes later, and the two men were sitting in chairs next to the flaming hearth, glasses of wine in hand. The Dragons hopped off his shoulders, gliding down onto the floor before they curled up next to the fire. Downing the contents of his wineglass in one gulp, Drakon asked "How did you move on, after your wife died?"
Ser Hugo glanced at the fire. "I didn't. Not really. After she died, all I could think of was killing someone, someone who I could blame for her death. I was so angry for the longest time. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep; everywhere I looked, I found something that reminded me of her. As much as I hated the slavers for her death, I came to realize that no one person was responsible. Her time had come, and there was nothing I could have done about it".
Drakon glanced bitterly at the fire. "For sixteen years, I thought that I had found perfect bliss. Growing up, all I ever knew was loss. When I could barely walk, my mother and father were taken from me. I never knew them, never knew what it would have been like if they had raised me properly".
"You still had a decent upbringing" Ser Hugo reminded him.
The last Blackfyre nodded. "I did. I had the honour of growing up with the finest man I have ever known and calling him my brother".
"What was he like?" the Knight asked.
Drakon smiled, saying "He had this… aura about him. Whenever he entered the room, you were immediately swept off your feet by his very presence. When he played his lyre, it was like hearing perfection. After he learned to fight with a sword, he quickly became a master at it. I have only ever lost a duel to two men, and one of them was Rhaegar Targaryen, when we were eighteen years old". Taking another gulp of wine, Drakon said "And he was taken from me. My life was taken from me by four men: Robert Baratheon, Tywin Lannister, Jaime Lannister, and the Mountain. Three of those men are still alive, still living their lives while Rhaegar and his family have long since rotted in the ground. I was angry, for so long, and then I found Jocelyn".
"How did you two meet?" Ser Hugo asked.
"We met at Ashford" Drakon explained. "I was staying there for a time, and she ran a spice shop. It was actually Rona that introduced us; she and Jocelyn had been friends since childhood, and she would tell me about this merchant that she knew, a merchant who could sell sand to a Dornishman or gold jewelry to a Lannister. For every day that I stayed in Ashford, I would ask Rona about her mysterious merchant friend, and she would tell me more stories. Eventually, I forced her to make an introduction, and once I laid eyes on the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, I felt as if I had known her for my entire life. We were married a few months later, and I never had cause to regret it. She gave me sixteen wonderful years of marriage and three children that I am thankful for every single day".
Ser Hugo was silent for a time. Taking a sip from his wineglass, he said "I still dream about my wife. I still see her now and again, when I close my eyes or when I'm eating supper. I've never truly moved on, but I live my life knowing that she couldn't bear it if I allowed myself to stop". The Knight set his wineglass down on the floor before he stood up. "The best that you can do is to honour her memory, and keep living. This world may be one without purpose or justice, but that's why you have to keep on living, and make it that way".
He then departed, and Drakon kept staring into the fire as the memory of his wife continued to haunt him.