Author's Note:

Welcome to the story! I have been thinking about this story for a while, and I am excited to share what I have so far! I am aiming to update twice every week for summer 2020 and I might have to slow down to once a week (or longer) in the fall. But I intend to finish this story, however long it takes.

That being said, this story is AU from before Robert's Rebellion. I will be introducing many OCs, especially in the first few chapters and explaining a lot of context. Please bear with me and get a good grasp of how the OCs fit in – you will be terribly lost without the information.

If AU and OCs aren't your thing, this story might not be for you. I am also NOT GRRM. I cannot even hope to be as good as him. I appreciate your patience and understanding if there are errors or issues of plot in the story – though I try to address every detail.

Chapter 1: The Expeditioner's Return

Stonedance, Crownlands, 281 AC

The view out to the Narrow Sea from the Lord's Chamber at Stonedance is splendid as always. Under the moonlight, the water is calm, and the waves are gently creeping towards the shore. The torches on passing boats and caravels help light up pockets of the sea, while the velvet darkness engulfs everywhere else for as far as one can see. With the windows half-open, Aerion can feel the stiff sea breeze tossing his shoulder-length hair and a smell of light saltiness in his nose. He stared out to the Narrow Sea in apprehension as he slowly tapped on the window frame with his finger.

An uneasy feeling had been bothering him for a few days, and he could not shake off the feeling even when he double and triple-checked everything around his castle. He discussed the plans to travel to Harrenhal with Maester Kelhmon twice, heard updates about the King's status from contacts in King's Landing, and even sent riders to House Bar Emmon of Sharp Point, House Rambton on the Hook and along the Wendwater to check for any signs of trouble.

To Aerion's disappointment, his bannermen assured his riders that things are going well, and even the bandit groups who liked to waylay traders and smallfolk along the Kingsroad have not been sighted recently. Aerion briefly entertained the idea that the Kingswood Brotherhood has re-assembled and was scheming for another woodsfolk rebellion, but as a commander within Ser Arthur Dayne's campaign to uproot the outlaw organization, Aerion is fairly certain that that particular threat was no longer a worry. After all, the months-long campaign and its complete victory had earned him his knighthood just over a year ago. He had led the final ambush deep within the untamed forest to drive the last factions of the Brotherhood towards Ser Arthur's main forces. He also slew one of the most important rebel leaders with his longsword and killed another fleeing marauder chief with his bow and arrow.

But what else could possibly go wrong? He thought about his little brother Baelor, but the boy of eight years was a happy and tireless ball of energy. Apart from his lessons with the Maester, Baelor spent half of his time practicing dueling in the training yard, and another half of his time exploring the woods and hills of Massey's Hook with his friends and armed guards of Stonedance.

Aerion turned away from the window and stepped towards his roundtable by the corner of his chambers. He was lost in his thoughts when he reached for the flask of Arbor gold and poured himself a glass. As he lifted the glass to his mouth, loud and panicked rapping on his chamber doors startled him and he spilled a few drops of the dark purple liquid on his sleeve. He groaned and set his glass not-too-gently back on the table, "Come in," he answered.

Aerion frowned as Ser Bryce Layn, his castellan, and Maester Kelhmon entered his chambers, both trying to catch their breath from running up to the top floor of Stonedance's master tower. Aerion was about to ask what happened when Ser Bryce spoke up, wiping away at his forehead. "My lord, it's the docks. Two Summer Isles sellsail boats just arrived below the castle. They say that they were promised payment from the Lord of Stonedance if they deliver the two passengers and their belongings. The mercenary captain won't let our men see who the passengers are before getting their payment though, Xorru went down to talk to them."

"Summer Isles sellsails?" Aerion tried to think about any recent dealings with the Summer Isles and could not come up with anything relevant. He thought of broader trade missions that he had sponsored to Essos but the last group was heading for Braavos, nowhere near The Stepstones or the Summer Sea.

Maester Kelhmon then spoke up, "My lord, it is best if you went to see them yourself… it might have something to do with your lord father."

Maester Kelhmon was a thin and frail man in his late fifties. He had watched both the last Lord of Stonedance and the current lord grow up. He had sailed directly to Stonedance after taking his vows at the Citadel and has dedicated his life to serving the holding and house at Stonedance. When the castle's officials and servants came and went, Maester Kelhmon has been a steady presence that brought calm and sound judgment.

Seeing the solemnness in Maester Kelhmon's eyes, Aerion nodded. "Ser Bryce, find a sack of Gold Dragons from my study or the stores and meet us at the docks." Aerion walked out of the chamber with Maester Kelhmon to make their way down the keep, while Ser Bryce turned left around the hall to carry out his lord's command.

The massive wooden lift from the castle grounds down to the cave by the docks is dark and smoky as any other night. Torchlight lined the descent, but poor ventilation in the chute allowed the build-up of dust and fumes, clouding Aerion's eyes from time to time. Teams of men worked at the pulleys that dragged the lift up and down with heavy, iron chains. The lift riders stood in the middle of a wooden pen enclosed by steel fences to protect them from falling. The lift has been indispensable to the castle on the cliff, serving as the most important way of transport for people and goods in and out of Stonedance.

As soon as Aerion stepped out of the cave, he spotted the circle of guards by two small-sized caravels in the nearest slips. Several guard towers stood on the narrow strip of the beach between the lift cave and the docks, and campfires lit the way for Aerion as he approached the small gathering.

Xorru, the Master-at-Arms at Stonedance, turned around just at the right time to see his lord. Xorru is a tall and broad-shouldered man with greys in his hair and beard. He had been an exile of the Summer Isles and probably volunteered to negotiate with the sellsails since he was more familiar with the language and practices. He gave a small smile, "My lord, this group was hired near Lys by the two men on board. The sellsails don't learn the names of their clients, and only know that they were to deliver the men and their locked chest to Stonedance, with the utmost discretion."

"The men inside were severely injured and have passed out two days into the journey, the mercenary tried to keep their condition stable, but they won't wake up. They owe the captain some eighty Gold Dragons." Xorru then turned to the captain, who is a short but sturdy man with a nasty scar across his right cheek. Xorru added more instructions in the words of the Summer Isles.

Standing on the beach, the captain nodded at Xorru and pulled a folded piece from his pocket and held it out to Aerion. Taking the piece over, Aerion felt the cloth to be silky but ripped and torn. He unfolded the piece under the torchlight of a guard and quietly gasped. It was an incomplete piece of a banner, but the sewn articles were clear, "three silver fish on blue, with blue frets on a white field… for House Bywater."

Catching Xorru's matching eyes of shock, Aerion cleared his throat and pocketed the piece of cloth. He gestured towards Ser Bryce, who had silently joined the group from his errand to pay the sellsail captain. "I want my own men to board the caravel, so the passengers are carried off carefully. You will also show them where the passengers' belongings are and not miss any items, big or small. Do not breathe a word of this trip to anyone." Aerion made sure to lock eyes with the captain and give a stern look in warning.

The captain nodded enthusiastically and hugged over the handsome sack of Gold Dragons from Ser Bryce with an eager smile. He half-turned and barked at his men to step aside and aid the Stonedance guards. He slightly bowed to Aerion and spoke in a thick foreign accent, "we don't ask questions, so we have nothing to tell, my lord. We know the ways of our trade."

After bidding the sellsails away from the docks, Aerion was riding up the lift with a concerned Maester Kelhmon and two stretchers carried by four guards. A heavy ebony chest was also in the corner of the lift, with one guard on each side to lift the dusty and worn chest. The two passengers that the Lord of Stonedance just received were wrapped in thick quilts as they laid on stretchers with their eyes tightly closed. Their faces are pale and sweaty from fever. The younger man of the two had tanned skin and thick brown hair and eyebrows, probably a lad from the Eastern continent, while his companion had paler skin and typical Westerosi features, which means the older fellow was most likely the owner of the House Bywater banner in Aerion's pocket.

Maester Kelhmon was performing basic examinations as the lift slowly inched up. The Maester was muttering to himself and shaking his head from time to time upon discovering more and more injuries. "Tell the maids to draw ice baths for both of them and prepare clean towels, bandages, bruise paste, and a vial of the milk of the poppy," he instructed the guards.

"My lord, where should we house these guests?" the lift was pulling to a gentle stop, and the guards waiting on the castle grounds hurried over to open the lift's steel fences. They stepped aside to make way for the riders to exit.

"The guest wing of the master tower," Aerion blinked back from his musing and answered as he patted down his robes for dust. "Bring Maester Kelhmon whatever he needs and take the chest to the guest wing as well."

"And tell Xorru to wait for me in my study," Aerion wanted to make sure that the passengers will survive before delving into the details of his father's expeditions to Essos, of which Xorru certainly understands better than anyone else at Stonedance.

Aerion followed the party to the guest wing and watched Maester Kelhmon arrange for the injured to be placed on beds side-by-side. Most of the furniture in the guest chamber was being removed and the large reading table was dragged to the center of the room to hold medical supplies and wooden basins of water. Four of the six guards took their leave after the heavy lifting was done, with several maids replacing them to aid the Maester.

Aerion knew the basics of treating cuts and bruises from training and fighting, but as the maids unwrapped the dirty quilts and tattered clothes from the men's bodies, Aerion knew that he could not hope to help Maester Kelhmon. Angry gashes covered the older, probably House Bywater man's chest, arms, and legs. Patches of skin were swollen with abscess bursting of pus. His right hand and half of his arm were covered in charcoal black burns, the dying flesh giving off a strong stench mixed with sweat and blood. The man's left kneecap also looked severely disfigured though the injury looked old. He probably had a bad limp for a long time before any of his recent injuries.

Looking at the younger man on the other bed, Aerion was relieved to see that his injuries looked better. They were still nasty and severe, but at least they looked treatable and the youngster would, with proper care, recover.

"My lord, they will not wake for a few days. They have a running fever and I will give them the milk of the poppy to keep them stable until the fevers subside." Maester Kelhmon grabbed the vial for the milk of the poppy and a bowl of water and spoon. He paused to look at Aerion, "I will be here tending to them, and I will let you know of any changes."

Aerion slowly let out a breath and nodded to his mentor and Maester. "Take whatever you need and call for more maids or guards if you need help. Send a word of their conditions in the morning." Aerion glanced one last time at the injured men, where maids hovered around them to wipe clean their gashes and wounds, before turning and making his way to the Lord's study.

Fifty years ago, in the days of King Maekar I, Prince Aerion Targaryen or Aerion Brightflame had been a prominent member of the royal family. Prince Aerion had served the dynasty well, fighting valiantly in the Third Blackfyre Rebellion and trying tirelessly to revive dragons for the realm. At the death of King Maekar I, Prince Aerion's only son, Maegor, even had a merited claim to the Iron Throne. Until, of course, the Great Council of 233 AC determined that the Crown would pass to a younger adult son of King Maekar I, instead of a babe from an elder son's line - that babe being Maegor. From then on, the house of Prince Aerion and his son Meagor Targaryen became a minor branch of the royal family, passing from Maegor to Daeron, and then to the current Lord of Stonedance, Aerion Targaryen, the late Prince's great-grandson and namesake.

Aerion was just eight years of age when his grandfather Maegor passed away. But he still had his grandfather's teachings fresh in his memory. Lord Meagor would repeatedly warn Aerion of how to conduct himself at court. Maegor believed that keeping a low profile and being a loyal subordinate to the Crown is the best survival strategy for a minor branch of the Targaryen royal family.

Both Lord Maegor and his son, Lord Daeron, were convinced that being uninterested and uninvolved in power is the way to keep their family safe. "People still remember the madness that overtook Prince Aerion," Lord Daeron had explained to a young Aerion, "Nobles and smallfolk alike look to us in slight and in suspicion. We cannot let the King and his advisors doubt us, for we carry the natural sin of being Prince Aerion the Monstrous' heirs. We are also a threat to the monarch, being the only claimants to the Crown after the current royal family since King Maekar I, at least the only claimant through the male line of succession."

"But we need not care about people's whispers. Play their underestimation of you to your advantage." Lord Daeron had held determination in his eyes when he instructed his eldest son and heir, Aerion Targaryen, "We will be the survivors of the game of thrones and one day, it will be our chance to show the realm our strength and capability."

After being bypassed for the throne, Maegor never complained or showed any disloyalty to the Crown. Instead, he fought bravely during the War of the Ninepenny Kings and always obediently followed his older cousin, the future King Jaehaerys II. Thus, the years of King Aegon V and King Jaehaerys II's rule were kind to Lord Maegor Targaryen and his family – which could not be said for the recent years of King Aerys II's reign.

With Maegor's contributions to the realm, the Targaryen lord would be awarded the castle of Stonedance, which had been the seat of House Massey for thousands of years until the Massey family went extinct after a sailing accident. Maegor built his household – now commonly called the House Targaryen of Stonedance, at the modest but heavily fortified castle of Stonedance. Additionally, staying true to his strategy of political indifference, Maegor went on to spend most of his adult life in Essos for travel and exploration with his Tolosi wife, returning to Westeros mostly for royal tourneys, marriages, and deaths.

Lord Maegor's only son and heir, Daeron Targaryen, loved traveling abroad even more than his father. Daeron grew up and trained in the Free Cities, and only returned to Westeros for the coronation of King Aerys II and his wedding to Aerion and Balor's mother, the Lady Jeyne Swann of Stonehelm. Daeron left again for the East shortly after Aerion's second name day and returned five years later gravely injured with less than a tenth of his guards who had varying degrees of injuries as well.

At his return, Daeron was only three and twenty and was going to be bed-ridden for life if not quickly dead. He was in a coma after his return for almost four moons and woke up weak and confused. Upon witnessing his son's desperate condition, Lord Maegor was heartbroken and passed soon after with grief and worry for the future of his house.

Aerion would want to tell his grandfather that not all hope was lost. Daeron recovered from his state of confusion and recovered enough physically that he could manage short walks within the castle at his best. Lord Daeron spent most of his time mentoring his son and heir, Aerion, and explaining the complex balance of power around Stonedance, involving major Crownlands and Stormlands Houses. For someone who spent most of his time away, Lord Daeron was surprisingly well-informed about the latest developments in Westerosi politics.

In the three years with his father close by, Aerion learned about his family's history, the network of friends and allies of his grandfather and father, and even welcomed a baby brother, Baelor, born nine years after him. Lord Daeron's time would turn out to be limited, as a fever brought back ailments in his lungs and heart. Aerion's father would pass at the age of six and twenty and Aerion would assume the Lordship of Stonedance at just ten years of age.

Now Lord Aerion Targaryen of Stonedance sat across from Xorru, one of his father's companions when his father sailed up to Stonedance, gravely injured, all those years ago. Xorru shifted in his seat and scratched his temple.

"Lord Daeron had told us that Wilfred would return one day… we didn't believe him, because there was no way to survive if Wilfred went back there," Aerion knew that Xorru was talking about what happened to Daeron's party before their escape from a rivalry ambush – an ambush so devasting that Daeron had to sail home in tatters.

"Where did you leave Wilfred Bywater?" For all these years, neither his lord father nor his men spoke of where they stayed or where they have been in their journey East. It was said that Daeron brought his most loyal men and held them to an oath of silence. The name Wilfred Bywater clicked in Aerion's memories too. Wilfed was not only a vassal knight but his father's childhood best friend, the young knight from House Bywater sailed East with Lord Daeron as a personal guard.

Xorru broke the eye contact and hesitated. He took a deep breath and focused upon the tall young lord in front of him. Aerion's face was sculptured and handsome, with a touch of his mother's House Swann cheekbones. His golden-silver hair swayed against his shoulders as Aerion leaned back in his chair. At seven and ten, he looked regal and warm when he held conversation, Xorru decided.

Xorru eventually agreed that Aerion had a right to know, "At first it was Volantis, Astapor, around the Gulf of Grief, and Tolos. But after two or three years, it was obvious that your father had a specific destination in mind." Xorru stared into Aerion's deep-violet eyes, "the smoking sea and ultimately … Valyria."

Aerion's eyes slightly widened at the mention of one of the most dangerous places in the known world. Exploration of Valyria was punishable by death if one was lucky enough to survive the journey. "You can't be telling me that you all explored Valyria and came back alive?" Aerion snorted humourlessly.

Xorru shook his head, "no, we explored the outskirts of the smoking sea, and never dared to go near the peninsula. But that's the main group… your father, Wilfred, and a cousin from your grandmother's Tolos kin did go further. They were gone for longer than a fortnight. I don't know how deep into the ruins they managed, but they did come back to our island base."

Aerion leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, "Were they injured? Did they find anything?"

"They had some minor injuries against some stone men, but luckily they were not infected. Your lord father used a longsword and pushed the corpses into the smoking sea, before throwing away the blade itself."

Before Aerion could ask a follow-up, Xorru continued, "your father planned a mission to go back to wherever they went and was directing the group to organize into smaller units. But as we were packing, an old rival from Astapor sailed up to our small island in the dead of night and ambushed us, outnumbering us four to one. Half of our men died in the attack, and another half of the survivors could not make it to our galleys, since the savages burned two of our three galleys."

"We were escaping to Volantis when more men died from their injuries, including your Tolosi cousin. Your father was barely conscious but seemed determined about something. He used all his energy to talk to Wilfred. By the time we secured sellsails to take us home, your father was in his coma. Wilfred made sure we were ready to leave before declaring that he's on your father's orders and will not be returning with the group."

Aerion pulled the tattered piece of the Bywater banner from his pocket and stretched it out carefully on the table. Silver threads around each of the three fishes shined in the candlelight.

"We tried to stop him, but he wouldn't budge. And that was the last time I've seen him, a full ten years ago, until tonight of course." Xorru sighed deeply and held sadness in his eyes.

"Are you certain that the passenger tonight is Wilfred Bywater?" Aerion asked as he rubbed the banner with his thumb. Aerion could remember the times when his lord father mentioned the Bywater knight, Lord Daeron seemed to miss his friend and to have a lot of fondness for Wilfred Bywater.

"I am." Xorru straightened in his chair and said in a serious tone, "he looks like Wilfred, just a bit aged. He also has his birthmark – two small moles on his right earlobe."

"A brave and loyal man." Aerion nodded and exhaled deeply. He rubbed his temples. "Do you recognize the younger companion?"

"No." Xorru frowned, "he looks like he's from the Free Cities though, maybe Wilfred took him on at one point or another."

"We'll know more when he wakes up – Maester Kelhmon is doing everything he can." Aerion was eager to converse with the one witness of his father's Old Valyria expeditions and ask about what he has been working on for the last ten years, but he also worried for the knight's condition. "If the Gods are good, we will have him back."

Aerion looked to Xorru's worried and tired face and pulled himself from the chair. "Go rest, Xorru. Ser Wilfred is safe in the castle, and we will be there when he wakes up."

As Aerion returned to his chambers and changed to a comfortable nightgown, he couldn't help but wonder what the arrival of the long-time missing knight would bring. His father never mentioned Wilfred's mission or told him to expect the knight's return, but Xorru and the last of his expedition men had been aware of his potential re-appearance.

Aerion stood by the same window that he was looking out from earlier in the night and sighed. His father had passed too young, and he himself had been too young to hold serious conversation – especially about something important enough to justify venturing into the ruins of Valyria. Well, Aerion assumed it was important anyway, why use your life and your best men to do something inconsequential?

The Narrow Sea is still peaceful and there are fewer ships passing by since the hour was very late. More stars became visible and are blinking down at Aerion, completing a serene and breathtaking view. Aerion hoped that Wilfred Bywater would pull through, and finally bring him some answers to quell the agitation in his stomach.