Sister's Keeper
Edited by DesertMortician
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
A/N: How in the Seven Hells did we reach chapter 100!
Chapter 100: The Next Step
Alysanne's POV
When we returned to the Master Apartment, I went straight to the bathing chamber. Immediately I started a bath and stripped. I was slightly overwhelmed by what happened at Windwyrm; that I was able to talk to my ancestor Aegon. Aegon the Conqueror, the Targaryen, who started our family's dynasty for almost three hundred years. His words of wisdom helped.
Aegon never attacked the people. During his conquest, he never set the dragons on the peoples of kingdoms whose kings refuse to bend the knee. Yes, he burned Harrenhal with House Hoare burned alive by Balerion's flame. Yet he managed to get the servants and staff out, for they were doing their job in order to survive. Meanwhile, in the Field of Fire, he burned King Mern IX Gardener and King Loren Lannister's army on the battlefield. Nearly five thousand perished out of the 55,000 men while the rest surrendered. Aegon limited his number of casualties and made an example of how dangerous dragon fire is.
I thought after the Battle of the Goldroad, Cersei would understand the dangers the dragons are. But it is clear she doesn't care about anything but her own power. And from what Aegon said, the only way to get the people to see their queen's callousness is by going after her army and navy.
I climbed inside and sighed, feeling the hot water. As I soaked, I stared at Jorah, who stood by the door watching me.
"Care to join?" I offered.
Jorah removed his cloak as he sat down on the edge of the bath, "Care to tell me what happened?"
"Apparently, I found a trap door that leads to a secret room, filled with dragon statues of the first Westerosi dragons," I replied.
"Alysanne," he warned.
I sighed, "You know about my ability."
"To speak to the dead in the dream realm and visions," he answered.
"They are rare since the magic of Valyria is gone. I mainly see them in my sleep, and twice when I'm awake. Except, this time, I saw someone from the past." I explained.
"Who?" he asked.
"Aegon, the one who started it all," I answered.
His eyes widened, not expecting that.
"He gave me some advice," I said. "How to be careful, since history has its eyes on us. Also, strategies for the blockade."
"And that would be?"
"Not to attack the city directly, but focus on the armies and navy. If the people see that we can overcome their defenses, then they will overthrow Cersei."
Jorah paused, thinking about it, "What else did he say."
"Nothing much, other than a spell that can let me control Drogon for a short period of time," I said.
Jorah nodded again. A part of me wanted to tell him about the baby. However, if I did, then I won't be there for the blockade. Aegon stated, as long as I remained on Viserion's back, I would be safe. There are some commands Viserion can do without me on his back, but I need to be the rider and guide him most of the time.
This puts me in a situation. The right thing to do is to step aside and let Jorah and the War Council handle this. However, if I did that, I would appear weak before the Six Kingdoms. Even Visenya and Rhaenys fought when they were pregnant while riding their dragons. It was still hard to believe I was pregnant. It makes so much sense now, that my mood swings enhanced my emotions during these hard times, the headaches, and the vomiting. It was not as extreme as the last time I was pregnant. Probably because the stress has stopped the symptoms.
Although, I have been taking the Lys Elixir rigorously. Not missing a single dosage. I must have drunk a bad batch or something along with those terms. This is the wrong time to be pregnant. It also explains Drogon's reaction after the funeral when he kept nudging my stomach. Did he sense and smell the child inside me? That behavior was not written in the books I read.
I sighed, adjusting my hair over the rail and almost laid in the water.
"I'm sorry for the way I've been acting," I told him.
He took my hand, "I'm just glad you realize your mistakes and own it."
I nodded.
"That is one of the things I love about you. You realize your mistakes and own them. You don't ignore it or put the fault on others," he added.
I brought his hand up and kissed it.
We spent a while talking about battle strategies. Jorah being once a member of the Golden Company had an advantage. He told me before the Golden Company goes into battle, they try to arrange a truce. Mainly a way to out pay them or another form of surrender. Maybe we can get the Golden Company out of the way. But the Ironfleet will be a struggle. With Euron courting Cersei or whatever relationship they have, can't walk away. And knowing the history of the Ironborn, they will not surrender with ease. At this point, the best option is to use the dragons against the Ironfleet.
However, there is one problem…the scorpions. Those ballista and bolts are far more lethal than the average weapon. Enough to penetrate dragon scales and skin. The first time Drogon got struck by a Scorpion, only the spearhead got inside. The recent ones went far deeper, while the spear had a bit of a grappling hook taking more flesh, and the force from the ballista made it go deeper. Yet no one has seen a dragon in over a hundred and seventy-five years. Good thing, Visenya and her library taught me some things about what dragons can do.
Once done with my bath, I got out and started to dress. Afterward, I brushed my hair, putting it in a braid. Nothing else to do, Jorah and I walked along the grounds. We were still talking to each other, going through scenarios. The plan was straightforward about the blockade, we just need to take down their defenses. It can possibly take days, weeks, or months. It could have been years, but thinking about the dragons can make the surrender come sooner. Even though the city has five years' worth of grain, the increase in refugees can change.
As we continued to walk, we saw Jon and Ser Davos walking towards us. At first, I thought it was nothing until they came towards us.
"I heard you've fallen into a trap door," Jon teased or his attempt to tease.
"Well, Windwyrm has a new door," I countered back.
"So we've heard," Ser Davos agreed.
"What trouble are you two causing?" I asked.
"No trouble at all, your grace," Ser Davos assured.
"We actually came from the forge. Apparently, your blacksmith has been quite busy since the last time I saw him," Jon said.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Jon turned to Jorah, "You didn't tell her?"
"I've been quite busy," Jorah replied.
"What is Durak doing now?" I asked again.
"You better see it," Jon said, leading the way.
Now I am curious about what the Qohorik was doing. Now that I think about it, I haven't seen Durak. I always thought of him as a hermit, since all he does is spend time in his forge. He is always smithing weapons, and barely lets anyone near his work, since he doesn't want to show his secrets. Primarily the Qohoriks are known for magic in their craftsmanship. For example, when I wore my armor, it protected me. The damage it got during the Long Night, were mere scratches and dents, not severe as if I was jousting. Along with Frozenfang, I can sense there was some sort of magic from it.
When entering the forge, it was active. Far more productive than Winterfell. Many smiths and apprentices were running about, some in areas pounding away, sparks flying, sheets of hot metal being passed around. It was hectic and hot that Jorah, Jon, and Ser Davos were starting to sweat. As we walked further in, we soon found Durak in a cooling section chiseling on curve metal that resembled armor, except this armor is massive.
Durak lifted his head; his dark eyes widened, not expecting us to be here.
"Durak, what is all this?" I asked.
He got up and walked over, "Your Grace, how are you feeling?"
"I'm doing well," I replied. "Can you tell me what is going on in here?"
"Making armor, your grace," Durak answered.
I glanced at the armor piece on the table, "Armor for a giant?"
"No, armor for a dragon," Durak corrected, then glanced around. "Maybe two. Black Dragon wouldn't take measurements."
I snorted since Drogon slowly turned wild, it would be dangerous to be near him if you haven't been in his life. He would be like Rhaegal in most of his life until the green dragon found Jon. Still, I was surprised and impressed that Durak was taking the initiative to make dragon armor.
"Do you know how to make dragon armor?" I asked.
"After seeing the damage the dragons received from the Ice Dragon, I knew they needed better protection, especially when I was told what happened on the Goldroad." He answered. "Your sister gave me a book about dragons. Where I found a picture of armor."
He walked over to the table, bringing a book over, showing an example. It was an illustration of Valryon, Essovius, Ghiscar, and Archonei. Each of them had different styles of armor. Then again, there were different species in dragons. Yet, the Targaryens only dealt with two types. Valryon and Essovius were the common Valyrian Dragon. Meanwhile, Ghiscar and Archonei were the same species as Sunfyre. Usually, Valyrian dragons have their own armor. The older they become, the stronger their scales are to that of armor. Vermithor, Vhagar, and Balerion had massive scales over age. But right now, Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal scales are not enormous enough to shield them from possible attacks.
"How long have you been working on this?" I asked.
"After forging your sword," Durak answered. "I had Viserion's measurements from the saddle."
"I'm utterly surprised by the dedication Durak, I don't know how to thank you?" I said.
"You have made me a wealthy man," Durak said. "Once you secure your throne, I'll be returning to Qohor and request safe passage."
"Of course," I chuckled slightly from his response.
"I also had this finish," Durak said as he went to a shelf to pull out a helmet.
My last helmet was a cross between Rhaegar's helm for tournaments, closed helm, and Unsullied. The fall from the Ice Dragon and Viserion catching me damage it. The old helmet dented so severely, that how I survive is still a miracle. This time the helmet was a barbute, as the sides were dragon wings flapping down while at the center was a dragon's head with ruby eyes. There were more details, with etching on it. Inside was a strap.
"Thank you, Durak," I said.
Durak nodded.
"How long until the two armors are ready?" Jorah asked.
"Two weeks at least," Durak answered.
Jon, Jorah, and I nodded. If Jon and I are going to be in the air, we need all the protection we can get. Sadly, there wasn't enough time for Drogon. And knowing his namesake, I doubt Drogon will wear armor either way. Rhaegal, maybe for a short period of time, Viserion is going to wear it if he likes it or not.
Either way, I was thankful that Ser Barristan found Durak. At first, the Qohorik was hired to make armor. Until I offered him a position to join our court as a royal blacksmith in making my councils armor. He reforged my father's sword to make Frozenfang, and now this…armor for the dragons. This man is full of surprises.
"We should be prepared by then," Jorah said.
Everyone nodded. We thank Durak before leaving the forge. The men seemed thankful to be out of the heat. Sweat has covered their faces. Ser Davos had to pull a rag wiping the sweat off his face.
"It's hot as a volcano in there," Ser Davos said.
"It probably is," I joked. "Then again, Durak uses Qohorik craftsmanship, thus magic is involved."
"Is magic involved in everything in Essos?" Ser Davos asked.
"No, mainly pass Volantis maybe, until reaching the Lhazereen province. That is when magic is more define," I answered."
Ser Davos' eyes widen.
Jorah nodded in agreement.
"Magic is more trouble if you ask me," Jorah muttered.
"Don't forget, it was magic that saved me," I reminded him.
Jorah grumbled from that. It's clear he doesn't like magic. In the beginning, he was apprehensive about dragon magic, until it was explained, it was not like magic was coming out of my hands. Dragon magic is connecting with the dragons and using them. Not like blood magic that conjures dark spirits to do the unthinkable or fire magic in conjuring a god's power. He even told me about what he saw with Qauithe's shadow magic, yet she does her magic for good. Also thought her methods can be questionable. I was not pleased when she painted rams' blood on me. The thought made me shudder.
"Anyway, we better prepare for the Small Council," I said, changing the subject.
They all nodded as we made our way to the Chamber of the Painted Table.
.o0o.
The Small Council has been assembled. They circled around the carved table, all waiting on my decision. Varys and Tyrion have been holding their breath in the sense of the battle strategies. Especially when my anger blinded me to seek revenge.
"After talking with Jorah and much consideration, we will continue the barricade as planned," I announced.
Varys and Tyrion sighed in relief while Grey Worm nodded.
"The Red Keep?" Tyrion asked.
"It will remain standing," I answered.
Tyrion nodded.
"And Cersei?" he added.
I took a deep breath, "Cersei Lannister will live until the child is born. The next day she will be executed. The crimes she has committed in the last eighteen years cannot be ignored. The Tyrells and the Martells have joined us because they were promised Cersei's head."
Tyrion can only nod. Sparing the child is the least I can do. However, Cersei lost any chance of surviving after she murdered Daenerys. She and the Mountain will suffer for what they have done to my family. Ser Gregor Clegane was supposed to be dead, from what Tyene told me, since Prince Oberyn cut the Mountain with a poison speared, coated in Manticore venom. It should have killed a man in a single day, how the Mountain is still alive is beyond me. I'll make sure he has a final death by dragon fire.
"However, there are some alterations we need to address," I said.
"Of course, Your Grace," Varys said.
"We need to prove that we are serious about this siege," I started. "Euron's fleet won't stand by."
"Nor the Golden Company," Jorah added. "They will strike when we at least expect it."
"We will have the numbers," Tyrion reminded her.
"I've been with the Golden Company for five years. They have skills that Westeros has not experienced." Jorah explained.
"We need to show the people that they need to make a choice, and that is by going after the army and navy," I added. "Jorah will take charge with the Golden Company, see if he can convince them to stand down. Meanwhile, Jon and I will strike the Ironfleet from the sky."
"You can't be serious!" Tyrion yelled. "You are the queen, and those Scorpions almost killed Drogon."
"Durak has been making armor for the dragons," Jon inserted himself into the conversation. "If you think she is incapable, then you forget Alysanne, and Viserion took down the Ice Dragon. Let alone her part in the Battle of the Goldroad."
I truly appreciated Jon's support.
"Still, Euron's fleet will expect you to strike from the sky," Tyrion argued.
"Dragons can do more than just fly," I countered.
"What can they swim as well?" Tyrion sarcastically asked.
"How do you think they get the biggest fish?" Jorah countered.
Tyrion's eyes widen, realizing that. When the dragons were young, and sailing through the Summer Sea, they hunted fish.
"Grey Worm, I want you and Jorah to work with the Dornish and Reachmen on preparation for battle," I said.
"Yes, My Queen," Grey Worm Said.
"Jon, tomorrow, I need to teach you more tricks with Rhaegal," I added.
Jon nodded in agreement. The Dragons have to be fast, faster than they were in the Battle of Winterfell. If the dragons remained in constant movement, then we have the chance of defeating the Ironfleet. Most importantly, we will have to get rid of Euron Greyjoy. If we can remove him from the playing field, Cersei will lose control. Since Euron is courting her, and the people are afraid of the mad captain.
"We have two weeks until the siege, let's start preparing," I said.
Everyone nodded.
After several discussions with the Small Council, I had them dismissed. Varys and Tyrion left first before Jorah gestured to Grey Worm to follow him. Jon had Ser Davos leave as I did the same with Missandei. Once we were alone, I stared at the table.
"To think three hundred and five years ago, our ancestor commissioned this table before his conquest," I said softly.
"I wonder what he was thinking to make the drastic decision," Jon murmured.
"Well, his original plan was to restore Valyria," I explained. "At first, he did services with Pentos a Tyrosh to fight against the struggles in Volantis. After flying on Balerion to Pentos to talk to the magisters, he then flew to Lys burning the Volantene fleet before it could attempt to invade the city. He basically put an end to the Century of Blood in Essos. However, there was a war still raging in Westeros. The Reach and the Westerlands were fighting each other. The Riverlands were being tormented by House Hoare and the Ironborn. Basically, he put an end to it."
"With Fire and Blood," Jon noted.
"If you think about it, a motto is a promise, a warning, or a threat," I said. "House Mormont motto is Here We Stand, a promise. The Starks have a warning of Winter is Coming. And therefore, the Targaryens have all three."
Jon nodded.
"I always interpreted it as an option, Live or Die," I said. "Until discovering he went by another motto."
"And what motto is that?" he asked.
I looked up, staring at him, "That history has his eyes on you."
Jon comprehended the phrase.
"It is like Bran and Sam said, humanity can't live on without history. And history has its eyes on us at this moment. Aegon knew that he burned the leaders of houses, yet he doesn't go after their families or people. He warned his enemies, offering them his terms of surrender, and kept the battles away from villages. He was a good king, even though the conflict was raised after his death from his sons. In the end, his bloodline made different types of rulers. Yet the most excellent rulers are outmatched from the corrupted or mad."
Jon nodded, "I wished I had a chance to know the true Targaryens."
I nodded again, "As do I. I only find samples." After a moment, I sighed. "Thank you, Jon."
"For what?" he asked.
"For helping me out of my struggles," I answered.
He placed a hand on my shoulder, "I know the pain in losing family. How much it makes you want to kill everyone involved. I almost broke my vow as a Brother of the Night's Watch when the man who considered my father was killed. Yet my friends brought me back. But when I got word what happened to Robb, I could only accept his death, knowing there is something important to do than seek vengeance."
"You've matured the moment you left Winterfell," I said.
"The moment I crossed through the Wall," Jon clarified. "And you?"
"I had to grow up when I was nine when Ser Willem Darry passed to take care of Dany and Viserys. Doing what I can in order to survive. But I think my true maturity started when I almost killed Viserys. Almost aimed the Targaryen sword at his chest while he was sleeping," I said, rubbing my neck. "Not my proudest moment."
"Daenerys told me what he did to you, I wouldn't blame you if you did kill him," he said.
"Luckily, Drogo solved that; he just gave the order and waited for hesitation. We gave none," I added. "It must make us sound terrible. Betraying one's family like that?"
"It's not a good thing, but under your circumstances, one can turn a blind eye," he replied.
I nodded.
.o0o.
The following day, Jorah took Grey Worm, Kovarro, and other Unsullied and Dothraki members to go over the Golden Company methods. He will do the same when Ser Garlan, Ser Gareth, and Prince Quentyn arrive to go over more battle strategies. As they were busy, I took Jon to the field where the dragons were for more training.
Jon was surprised when learning more Dragon Spells, Skulblakas Ven. When I showed it, he was shocked when my eyes changed. As he told me, my indigo eyes turned gold and irises slanted like a cat. I chuckled, telling him to try it. Jon took a deep breath, casting the spell as his dark eyes turned into a shade of polish bronze and citrine while the iris slanted. He almost stumbled back, realizing he saw through Rhaegal's visions, watching us. A complete out of body experience. He disconnected the spell.
"That's something I need to get used to," Jon murmured.
"Just don't overdo it," I warned. "I recommend a short period of time instead of a long one."
"What happens if you do it too long?" he asked.
"A massive headache. We don't have the same muscle structure as the dragons. So, we feel the pressure building up. The Magic of Valyria is gone. Aegon the Conqueror lived during the last of the hundred years after the Doom. And the magic continued for several more generations until the Dance of Dragons. Then the magic was gone with the Last Dragon. And that magic protected them from inbreeding since the well-known Mad Kings came after the Dance of Dragons."
Jon nodded, glancing at Rhaegal, "How did you slay the Ice Dragon?"
"Having Viserion slingshot me with his tail and sheer luck," I muttered.
"Think you can teach me?" Jon asked.
I scoffed, "No. I was lucky to have a strong bond with Viserion since his birth. You and Rhaegal barely bond half a year."
I also was lying since I did not want to risk the health of my child. I spent weeks practicing on Viserion's tail and ending up crashing in the water. The impact sends a shock through the body. And if you missed the water, it will be a painful if not a deadly landing. One that could kill both of us. Yeah, not going to happen again. And that near-death experience…no.
"Now, let's go flying," I said. "You're going to copy everything I do."
Jon nodded as we climbed onto the dragons, securing out harnesses before taking off. There was a sense of peace in the sky. Other than the weather, the world seemed to vanish. You can lose yourself as the winds blocked out the noise and the people becoming nothing but ants. Anyway, I made an obstacle course for Jon to follow. We need to move fast, making sharp turns since we will have to maneuver around the Iron fleet.
Jon seemed to be doing well, as we spent hours practicing. We have thirteen days to get this right; otherwise, there will be a bolt in us and drown in Blackwater Bay. I then led Jon to Dragonmont to practice on different types of dragon fire. We can't go straight full-blown attack; otherwise, the dragons will tire out and exhaust their fire capabilities.
We continued this until the afternoon when we sensed the dragons were getting exhausted. We returned to the field. When we got off, I sat down, stretching my legs before leaning against Viserion. A small wave of nausea came that I tried to control.
"Are you alright?" Jon asked as he came over.
"I think I overdid it on a spell," I lied.
Jon nodded, "Yeah, I can feel a headache coming. You weren't joking."
I nodded, going along with it.
Jon offered a hand in which I accepted. The moment I got on my feet, Drogon flew over and landed before us. Jon and I remained still, not knowing where Drogon's mindset was. A dragon without a rider is wild. Rhaegal and Viserion adjusted themselves to protect us. They growled and made noises in their language. Whatever they said, they allowed Drogon to come closer until his head was in front of me. His nostrils flared, breathing in my scent. After a few deep breaths, he gently nudged against me. I sighed, petting his snout.
"I know," I sighed.
"What's he doing?" Jon asked.
"Smelling the closest thing he has to Daenerys," I lied.
That wasn't it. Drogon can smell I was pregnant. Viserion can sense it; since flying, I realize he was cautious and careful. A part of me wonders if Drogon is sensing a possible rider? I'm not sure since I don't know every ritual with dragons. My ancestors would put dragon eggs to see if a child was a dragon rider. But there is no documentation of a dragon going up to a pregnant woman deciding the unborn is their rider. Either way, time can only tell.
Spell used is from Eragon
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