Life had gotten much better for the bastard girl from Myr.
Almost 5 years had passed since that day when Maelys the monstrous had taken her and her mother out of Myr and into the safety and protection of the Golden Company.
Lots and lots of things had happened since.
The very first thing that had happened, was that she had gotten a new name. One that fit far, far more for a Blackfyre princess than her old, bog-standard Myrish one.
She was now Daemona Blackfyre, named directly after old Daemon I himself.
Getting to live in a highly disciplined army camp, protected by elite soldiers was quite a nice experience, and holy hell it was better than living in the Brothel.
Of course, there were new problems though.
The first was one of her new roles in the army. Namely, what exactly she was.
During the first few years, what she was was a bastard daughter of Maelys who had some amazing engineering ideas.
Unfortunately, the first couple of years had been more limited than she'd liked, due to one factor.
Her father had not been Captain-General of the Golden Company. That had been one of the many, many Daemons. And he had been far, FAR more skeptical to her ideas than her father was.
For one thing, the jackass had delayed the invention of a flintlock Musket for as long as he'd been in charge.
He'd integrated the matchlock into his army, but he hadn't given her the resources to make flintlock happen.
It had been the same with her other inventions. He'd adopted grenades, but he's refused her ideas of a specialized group of soldiers for them. He'd been eager to make cannons, but he'd not been interested in trying out some of her other ideas, like chain shots.
Whether it was due to not wanting to be seen taking advice directly from a 9-year-old, or not wanting to give her father any more credit and honors than he had to for having found and recruited her, she did not know.
What she did know was that her hands became untied the day Maelys simply challenged Daemon to a duel for control over the army.
He had accepted, easily knocking her father from his horse.
Unfortunately for him, her father was Maelys the monstrous, who had quickly gotten back on his feet, then simply punched the horse straight in the face with a gauntlet fist, killing it instantly.
Then, as the Captain-General laid on the ground, entangled, Maelys had literally twisted his head off, becoming a kinslayer, and the new Captain-General of Golden Company.
It was… Pretty disturbing how the entire army had fallen into line after that. She wasn't sure whether Daemon had just been hated, or they just didn't care which Blackfyre led them, but nonetheless… It was a very stark reminder of how easily things could flip on a dime.
After that though… Things had rapidly begun to change.
She had gotten way more resources to work with, and though he didn't always implement them, at least the old man listened to her ideas.
Flintlocks had taken a while, but after managing to invent the humble screw, she had finally managed to make a mechanism that would work for a quick slam of the flint, and with it, the sparks that lit the world aflame.
After that… It was just a matter of producing enough muskets, powder, and bayonets for the entire army.
Those had been WAY easier to make than the cannons.
The news of the blackfyre's terrible new weapon had of course spread around, and the design had been leaked. What had not been leaked was the exact recipe for Gunpowder, which the company guarded very closely. Of course, word would spread eventually, and that was inevitable.
So long as it didn't spread for a few more years at least. At least until this entire bloody mess was over with.
As she saw the band of Nine swear their oath beneath the tree of Crowns, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.
This… Was a very important moment. In the original timeline, this had been the moment where the road to Southern ambitions had begun.
Even if stopped, this group would leave it's mark upon the world.
And if it succeeded?
Well, most of the free cities would change government structure, from republics to monarchies, the stepstones might become a legitimate united Kingdom, slavers Bay would be cleansed of slavery, and all it's slaves would be set free.
God knows whether that would turn out better than Dany's attempt, but maybe it would. After all… Nine Eyes was going to kill EVERY SINGLE SLAVER in the area. That might do the trick. At the very least, it would kill any chance of a direct counterinsurgency.
Also, the Summer Islands might be united under one banner for the first time in millennia. She… Wasn't sure how that would affect the world.
However, there was also the most pressing concern on her mind for the moment.
How this would affect Westeros.
Their plan was still the same as it had been in the original timeline, though she had a much better understanding of it than the books had given.
After taking Tyrosh, the Nine would move on to the stepstones to sweep away the last of the holdouts that opposed the mother's plans for unification. After that, they would then hit Lys and Myr with a simultaneous assault. Volantis was strong enough that it would normally have required the full army to even dream of taking it, but Silvertongue had long since placed his spies in the city and they would open side gates to let the half of the total army from Lys in, while the rest moved from Myr to Pentos.
It was a good, well-thought plan and campaign, one that had even taken into account that the majority of mercenary companies in Essos were currently fighting in a war between Qohor and Norvos.
By the time they were done with their squabbles, the nine would have finished the entire conquest of the targeted free cities.
After that, they would have regrouped, now with the power of our conquered states behind them, as they hit Westeros, Slavers Bay, and the summer Islands one after the other.
That was the nice thing about empires. Once you conquered something, you could use their resources for yourself to conquer more.
Of course, the entire campaign could get derailed, one way or another, by a counterattack from Westeros before they had gotten fully ready for a full-scale invasion.
Which brought Daemona to her big problem. She was NOT in favor of this entire alliance.
For one thing, a shit tin of people would die during this conquest. Lots and lots of innocent people would pay the price for these conquests. At least with the Westerosi campaign, she could at least take some solace in knowing that this would be a "Relatively" clean war.
Her father was… A brutal man. But Aerys or Ozai he was not. There was little point in conquering something if you were just going to burn it all.
Also… Whatever happened, they were going to spare the continent the reign of Aerys the mad. And Tywin. She was going to make sure he did not make it out of the war in the stepstones alive.
Still… So many were going to die. And there was a very good chance that even after they won, she was not going to be taking the throne, so she couldn't necessarily use her own vision for where to take the country to justify the coming invasion.
As the entire group began to disperse, everyone going to their own camps to tell their men and officers about the plan, Daemona fell in behind her father, as he strode with a step she hadn't seen him use much before now.
It was… Kinda understandable. He regarded the Iron Throne as our rightful birthright. He had been raised to hammer in the point that we were the rightful kings of Westeros with the mother's milk.
As for Daemona… Well, so long as it wasn't a damn whore house, she could live with it. Hopefully.
As they strode into camp, they came upon Commander Jaime Reyne,
"Orders your grace?"
"We march on the morrow. We capture every single city and town in the disputed plans from here to the coast of Tyrosh. There we meet up with the pirates' ships and take Tyrosh."
The man saluted.
"I'll inform the rest of the officers at once."
"You go do that."
Once the man had left, he said.
"Daemona, I'm gonna have another chat with Fossaway once I've dealt with some matters in my tent. I want you to go and take care of the siege Dragons."
A dismissal.
"Yes, father."
The giant left her Behind, as he made his way to the tent, leaving her with her guards to go carry out the King's orders.
For a moment she just stood and stared after him, as around her the camp began to wake to life for one last burst of activity before dawn.
"We should probably get to it, your grace." Ser Brandon said cheerfully.
"Wouldn't want the morrow to be delayed with our siege equipment not being in order.
She snorted.
"You know as well as I that it's completely fine."
But she did begin walking to the cannons anyway.
Her father was king, so he had to be obeyed.
It was just… Infuriating beyond belief, the way he would just dismiss her before important, royal matters.
Once he had become Captain-General, he had done two things. He had legitimized her, and he had declared her his heir.
That was great.
He had then largely left her to her own devices, other than giving her some tutors to give her an education(Learning how to read and speak the common tongue was the most important part of that.), pretty much the only thing he hadn't just left her to her own with, was military advancements and tech.
It was a depressing pattern. He would have her stand around at important moments and make it all very clear she was the heir. Then later behind the doors, he would send her off on errands while he went behind closed doors to do the "Real" work.
That didn't exactly fill her with confidence in her place in this dynasty.
She was the heir… For now.
As she came to the "dragon handlers", they were standing around talking and laughing.
It took them a few moments after she had reached their spot, to realize that someone had come to check up on them, and who exactly that someone was.
They snapped to attention quicker than a snake struck an unsuspecting heel.
She smiled.
"At ease men. How're the Dragons?"
"Just fine my lady-Your grace." one said, quickly changing course mid-sentence to correct himself.
"Yes." One of the others added quickly. "We've prepared everything as you instructed the last time your grace."
"Good to know. I'm still going to check it all though."
"So… How do you guys feel about going home finally?" She asked her guards as she inspected cannon 6 out of 14.
"Like a bloody dream is finally clearing." Brandon said in, fittingly enough, a dreamy tone.
She could almost hear how Brynden rolled his eyes.
"Well, it IS about bloody time."
"What about you Daemona? You've never been to Westeros, yet you're gonna be a princess now."
"That would imply she isn't one already Manderly."
"Oh fuck, you're right, sorry your grace."
She smiled. "It's alright. To answer your question Manderly… I'm just looking forward to this whole thing being over with. I'll worry about how I like it in Westeros when I'm there."
"Rather sensible of you. I've talked to some of the lads who've never been there. They have this idealistic nonsense that once it's over, we're just going to settle down with our lands, and that will be the end of all our problems.
Brandon snorted.
"We're gonna have to fight for years yet before this is all over. But at least once it is, I won't have to worry about snow anymore."
It was a clear dig at Brynden, who if they won, would get a castle far north in the Riverlands, while he, the northerner, would get Dustonbury, the original home of the Manderly's. But Brynden didn't respond. Not verbally anyway.
She liked the two men. In her time in the army camp, she had begun to build up… Well, she wasn't sure whether comparing it to the wolf's guard of Robb Stark was a good comparison. After all, most of these people were way, way older than her. Male and females alike.
It was… A weird relationship. For one thing, these men had seen her grow up from a 9-year-old to her once again having to go through her puberty.
It was going to be awkward if she had to play the part of the stern ruler with them, with that background.
On the other hand… This unusual intimate relationship with most of the officers did have the advantage that they knew much, much better than most of her "Intelligence".
She had sold herself as having a truly brilliant mind, simply by having the advantage of an adult's mind in a child's body, making her seem WAY smarter than she actually was. Also, the guns. The guns helped a lot.
If she ever did become queen, hopefully, the fact that none of these men thought of her as an idiot would help with that.
Then, there was the other thing to consider. The very, very uncomfortable part.
Namely, that she was nearing her adulthood, and that most of these men had sons of their own.
If she ever did become queen… Well, every single one of them would clamor to be the father-in-law to the new monarch.
It was… An unfortunate, and unavoidable part of a monarchy. Everything was directly connected to the monarch as people, and direct contact, or even better, control over the monarch, was the best thing imaginable.
And you didn't get any closer to the monarch, then through a direct royal marriage to the sitting monarch. And if you got that? Well, your grandchildren would one day sit on the Throne. Even just a nephew. It was an incredible price.
It was an annoying fact of life that colored every single interaction with her fellow "Nobles" that she simply had to live with and try to handle as it came.
As for the soldiers… Well, they liked her well enough, though maybe not quite in the way she would have liked. She was the public heir of her father, and the inventor of their new weapons, and she kept inventing more powerful things for them as time went on.
Those two things together gave her a level of legitimacy in their eyes that they probably would never have given to another female heir, but she got the distinct impression when talking with the regular men that she was "liked", not "respected".
It was the difference between being Nero, who the Roman legions had loved as he had grown up amongst them, and being Julius Caesar or Octavian.
More importantly, if there came a power struggle at some point in the future… Well, she might have to put the Army's feelings to the test.
Either way, she planned to try and keep the officers' loyalty to her. It was always the officer core that was the key to any army anyway.
"I'm looking to hearing my kin's reaction when it is I who managed to get back our ancient seat."
"I'm sure they'll be happy enough for you. If they're smart, they'll work to make a sweet trade deal between White Harbor, and Dunstonbury."
"Oh, they will. Us Manderley's are far too clever to refuse such an opportunity. But we have mythologized Dunstonbury for hundreds, and hundreds of years by this point. The man who won it back, and won it after the bloody Gardners are no more no less… Well, that will gall my brother to no end, I have no doubt."
" Yes… I'm. Sure it will Brandon."
It was an interesting band they had here, in the Golden Company. Tons and tons of people who were, or at least claimed to be descended from all the countless great houses of Westeros.
There was a sibling pair of Reynes whose grandparents had fled with bittersteel and, if they had survived the war of the ninepenny kings in the original timeline, they might just have survived Tywin Lannister.
There was a Manderly from white harbor, tons, and tons of Reacher houses, a couple of Toynes, a Cole, and from the river lands, there were folks like Brynden, who claimed descent from families that were supposed to have gone extinct centuries, if not millennia ago. Fishers, and Mudds, and Strongs and Teagues, and even one who claimed to be descended from the Hoares.
That was going to be fun to sort through once they got to the point that titles had to be handed out.
Really only 3 regions were Mostly absent.
The North, which had a few exiles like Brandon, but they didn't have that many in their company.
The red desert Dorne, where the Yronwoods had risen with the black Dragons again and again, but few had gone into exile with them, but none of those or their children were still alive. Ironically, that meant that they would probably not get to make their dream of the overlordship of Dorne happen this time around. Quite the time to decide to ditch the ship from black to red.
And finally, the Iron Islands, where the aforementioned Hoares from the Riverlands were the closest thing they had.
Other than that, they had exiles from the entire continent.
After she was done inspecting the cannons for any nonexistent problems, she thanked the dragon handlers for their good work and headed to her tent.
All around her, the entire army was abuzz, either with work and preparations or with just small talk. Happy small talk at that.
They were finally going home. Bittersteel's dream was coming true.
It was at times like these, that Daemona did see the romance of it all. 10 000 exiles, alone against the world, desperate to once more come home again.
The idealism of the image was kinda dampened, when she wondered whether the Targaryens would make their own mercenary company if they managed to Flee across the oceans like Rohanne of Tyrosh had done with Bittersteel.
Would this entire thing become a cycle that would repeat in the future? Red invading black?
She was still worried about that when she stepped into her family's tent.
Mother was handling little Calla as she walked in, and it took a while before she stepped up to help her undress the armor.
"Rough day?"
"No, mostly just Silvertongue talking, and talking, and talking, and more talking about future borders. It started getting old the first hour."
At least she had thought so. The actual would-be kings and queen had seemed pretty enraptured with his speech from beginning to end.
"I hear the result was… pretty positive."
"It was… We're beginning the campaign on the morrow."
Her mother looked up sharply.
"So soon?"
"Yes. We need to strike now, while we still have the element of surprise."
The older woman bit her lip, but eventually calmed down.
"It is what it is I suppose."
Daella Blackfyre looked… Incredibly better than she had 5 years ago. Which wasn't surprising. She was a queen now. A queen of a would-be king in an army camp, but a queen nonetheless.
It was quite a step up from a random whore in a brothel in Myr.
What I could have done without… Was what was in her stomach.
Immediately after marrying Daella, Maelys had been very energetic about having more children with her, and she was well on her way with her third child now.
If it was a girl, then there were no problems. If it was a boy… Well, her life would suddenly become far more complicated.
For now, there wasn't much she could do about it. All she could do was cross her fingers, and hope the child was not a boy, who would bump her down to second in line for the Blackfyre claim.
I
Haerra Stepstones felt great!
The work of a lifetime was about to come to an end.
A lifetime of trying to turn the broken and divided rocks that were the stepstones, into something better, something that wasn't just endless fighting amongst pirates, and outside powers.
She had grown up as an urchin in that world. Then she had sailed on her first ship and seen the world.
She had seen what it had to offer.
The rest of the pirates loved the world for it's bounty, for it's wealth, for what they could take as booty.
They had never cared to try and make the stepstones like what they saw outside the islands.
She had. She had seen the unity, the prosperity, the peace, and the order that her fellow stepstones only saw as an opportunity, and she had wondered… Can we be this grand?
Tyrosh had done it.
Tyrosh had once been just another barren rock in the stepstones. Then it had become a mighty city under Valyria, then a state of it's own.
Why shouldn't the rest of the islands follow suit?
It had taken a long, long, LONG way to reach that goal, but finally, it seemed like it was about to happen. The stepstones would be a kingdom. A kingdom that wasn't constantly being fought over by Myr, Tyrosh, and Lys.
She had little hope this alliance would last forever. They never did. But if she could make certain the stepstones remained at peace once all was over for… Say, the next 40 years, then that should be all the time they needed to build it up to a true power. They could never be a land power, but they could become the rulers of the narrow sea, and protect their islands from invasions that way.
The stepstones would be hers, and her family would rule them as long as the Westerosi families had ruled their lands.
