Chapter 2 – Golden and Red
The war was over in Westeros.
With the Targaryens all but destroyed, it was Robert Baratheon that now sat upon the Iron Throne, the city of King's Landing taken thanks to the assistance of Tywin Lannister. But the presence of the Lord Paramount of the Westerlands did not last long there, nor did that of his bannermen.
"Ser Kevan, a raven arrived for you two days ago," spoke the castellan of Casterly Rock, handing a special cylinder used by the Stepstone kings. "From Bloodstone."
Kevan took hold of the cylinder, the three-headed dragon of the Targaryens engraved on it proving its sender. He removed the letter from the inside, reading it carefully and feeling a sudden joy at the contents, quickly replaced by dread.
"Is something the matter?" asked Tywin upon seeing that his brother stood there, wordless.
"I have a grandson."
That had stopped Tywin. He was quickly reminded of Kevan's eldest daughter, Jeyne, and her marriage to Daemon Targaryen, the Prince of the Stepstones. A man who was a legitimate Targaryen. The son and heir of the last remaining Targaryen with a throne. A man whose blood made him a likely target for Robert Baratheon's fury.
But his brother also understood how dangerous the situation was, considering the fates of Elia Martell and her children, and how Baratheon was calling for the deaths of the surviving Targaryens.
"Have you?" said Tywin. "What's the boy's name?"
"Aerion."
"After his grandfather, or the madman who drank wildfire?"
Kevan shook his head. "His grandfather. The letter says both were named after the Conqueror's father."
Symbolic perhaps, thought Tywin. Regardless, the choice of such a name would harken to the madman, deliberately or not.
"If Robert Baratheon dares to harm a hair on that child's head, or even order it, I will ride to King's Landing and kill him myself," said Kevan. "And I'm willing to bet the Hightowers would join me."
It wouldn't surprise Tywin. The late wife of Aerion Targaryen had been a daughter of the Lord of Hightower. Daemon Targaryen was his grandson, and the newborn Aerion his great-grandson. Not to mention that the Tyrells could be persuaded to join in, considering Mace Tyrell was Daemon's uncle by marriage. And Tywin knew his brother would keep his promise. After all, a Lannister would always pay his debts.
Hightower. Tyrell. Lannister.
The blood ties of the Bloodstone Targaryens were yet another of the shields that protected them.
But the birth of Aerion Targaryen put him in a precarious situation. The boy was both Targaryen and Lannister, a combination that he had previously hoped to create with his daughter and Rhaegar Targaryen. The boy had a far more legitimate claim to the Iron Throne than Robert ever did, considering he was an actual Targaryen, and not just descended from one on the female line. Duncan Targaryen may have abdicated from his position as heir after he married a commoner, but the Targaryen loyalists of today would not care about that.
A Lannister on the Iron Throne was next to impossible, so Tywin would settle for the next best thing. And both his daughter and that of his brother were good candidates to achieve it. But if war came to pass, he knew whose claimant would the remaining Targeryen loyalists support, and it would be no child of Cercei and Robert. If the time came to choose a side, he would have to do so carefully.
"Robert would be stupid to attack them," said Tywin. "Not unless he wants the Free Cities landing their armies on our shores. Or half the houses of Westeros rebelling because he can't hold a grudge."
Disrupting the peace enforced by the Targaryens on the Narrow Sea was something anyone with half a brain didn't want. The safety of the Narrow Sea was something enjoyed not only by Westerosi and Essosi traders alike, but by both nobles and common folk who travelled from one continent to another to do whatever business they needed to do. If Robert went to war against the Stepstones due to a grudge and the possibility of resistance to his claim on the throne, then he would have to contend with both another civil war and an invasion from the Free Cities.
"Regardless, I would like to see them before anything happens," spoke Kevan. "Do I have permission to travel to Bloodstone?"
Tywin looked at his brother before giving a firm nod.
"Do hurry. I have need of you here.
It took many days for Ser Kevan to arrive at Bloodstone, having to travel to the Stormlands so that he could catch a ship to the Stepstones had been necessary, and far faster than travelling from Lannisport to Bloodstone by sea. But he did arrive, safe and sound with no interference. The sight of Bloodstone Keep still intimidated him. The fortress was as black as Dragonstone, yet smaller. But there was something ominous about it. Perhaps it was its old reputation as a haven for pirates, or perhaps it was the name. Bloodstone was not a name that inspired good thoughts.
"Father!"
Yet the sight of his daughter removed such thoughts from Kevan's mind, and he joined her in an embrace.
" Jeyne, it is so good to see you."
"Ser Kevan, welcome to Bloodstone," said Daemon as he approached. "I hope you met no trouble on the way."
"Thank you, your highness. Not at all. The voyage was rather calm," he said. "But I'm afraid the coming times won't be. Robert Baratheon has taken the Iron Throne for himself."
"We know father."
"Then you also know that he has a vendetta against all Targaryens, you included, I'm certain," warned Kevan. "Any he sees as rivals for his hold on the throne. He may attempt to kill you."
"He may try. But he will fail," declared Daemon.
"What makes you so certain?"
"Tell me, Ser Kevan," said Daemon. "You haven't been near a glass candle for the past twenty years, have you?"
Kevan shook his head. "No. Why?"
Daemon nodded and turned towards his wife. "Should I?"
She gave a small shrug.
"Your father allows it, but I would call it folly. However, it sends a good warning."
Daemon hummed and thought. Perhaps he was showing his hand too soon, and perhaps not. What good was a hand if it had no use, after all.
"Come with us, Ser Kevan. There's something you need to be shown."
Looking at his daughter in confusion, she simply smiled, leading her father by the arm, as the two were guided by Daemon into the depths of Bloodstone, towards the forbidden stairwell. Descending it, they could all hear and smell the sea, the waves echoing in the large cavern. But there was also something else, a sound which neither water not wind could make. And when Daemon saw his father-in-law set his eyes upon the source of this sound, he could not help but smile.
There, in the flat and dry surface of the sea cave, slept three beasts of the likes which people had only seen in illustration and heard of in legends and tales. One of the dragons could be said to be Balerion returned, were it not for the dragon's own appearance. This one was not a "black dread", but a golden beauty, the scales gleaming as if made from the sun's very light, and the membranes of its wings of a light purple tone. Near it was a dragon of a similar size, but grey in colour. The last one, almost as large as the other two, had red scales, half of them gleaming in white as they reflected the sunlight which entered the cave.
"Ser Kevan, meet Vytalion, Elyrion, and Urrax."
"How?" was the only word Kevan managed to speak.
"Summerhall," explained Daemon, amused by his father-in-law's shock. "All that death and fire wasn't for nothing. My father scavenged the ruins after the fire, and found two eggs, which he brought here. "
"How… how long?" asked Kevan.
"Since my birth. The egg hatched in my crib, and we became bonded since then," answered Daemon with a pleased, if not smug, smile. "Those rumours of dragons in the Narrow Sea and Essos… that may have been me and Elyrion. Or maybe my father and Vytalion."
The presence of two dragons had not been missed by Kevan. "You said your father took two eggs from Summerhall. Where did the red one come from?"
"From one of Vytalion's eggs."
There were three dragons in the world, and no one knew of it. It seemed incredibly surreal.
"Is it wild?"
"No. He's bonded to me."
The look that Kevan sent towards his daughter almost made Daemon break down in laughter.
"You? You're a dragonrider? I thought only Valyrians could tame such a creature."
"We have a Baratheon amongst our ancestors. Maybe it's that. Or perhaps none of had a dragon at their side its birth, father," she suggested. "I wouldn't call myself a dragonrider, just a caretaker. Flying is not for me. But Urrax's egg hatched in my hands, and the little one liked me ever since."
A huffed laugh came from Kevan's lips. "Little?"
"Well, he was," said Jeyne as she glanced at the red dragon. "But every year he grows. Might even reach the size of his… mother… father? I'm not sure."
Daemon stepped forward, putting a hand on Kevan's shoulder.
"You see now, Ser Kevan? This is what's expecting Robert Baratheon and his allies, if they dare to trespass on our shores."
Fire and Blood.
Never had those words been truer since the Dance of the Dragons, thought Kevan Lannister, pondering on the fact that his daughter and her husband each rode one.
"And yet you keep yourselves here, in these isles. You could have conquered Westeros by now."
"My father and I don't have plans to conquer the Seven Kingdoms. Not now that is," admitted Daemon. "When we reveal our dragons to the world, they will be a good deterrent for any invasions."
Deterrent was not the word Kevan would choose.
"Well, enough about dragons and Baratheons," he spoke after collecting his thoughts. "Let's talk about my grandson.
"Presenting Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone."
Daemon knew it would not be long before something like this happened. He had been expecting it, but he wasn't sure when it would happen. And now he had the brother of the Usurper standing in the reception hall of Bloodstone Keep, likely to deliver either a demand or a truce. Possibly the former, knowing Robert Baratheon's recent actions.
"You stand before Aerion Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, Shield of the Broken Arm, Freeholder of Valyria, Lord of the Conquest, Navigation, and Commerce of Westeros, Essos, and Sothoryos" spoke the herald. "State the reason of your visit, Lord Baratheon."
"I come at the orders of my brother, King Robert Baratheon, to deliver a message to the King of the Stepstones," said Stannis, motioning the letter in his hand slightly.
A guard stepped forward and took the letter from Stannis, then walking towards the throne.
"Your grace," said the guard as he handed the letter to Aerion.
The king took the letter and unsealed it, quickly reading the contents, his eyes narrowing as he finished reading the paper. He then handed the letter to Marwyn, before looking back at Stannis with an unreadable expression on his face. There was a moment of silence before anyone spoke, and a motion from Aerion towards the herald commanded the man to speak.
"The royal court is adjourned for today!"
But Aerion didn't stop looking at Stannis.
"Lord Baratheon, I would speak with you in private."
Stannis wasn't sure what to make of this situation. While his brother wanted all Targaryens dead, the existence of Aerion Targaryen and his kingdom had put a halt on Robert's bloodthirsty ambition.
"You are eldest of Robert Baratheon's younger brothers, am I correct?" asked Aerion as he poured two glasses of wine, one for him and another for Stannis.
Despite not understanding the purpose of the question, Stannis still answered.
"I am, yes."
"Forgive me for asking, but why were you made Lord of Dragonstone, then? Storm's End should have been yours, and yet he gave it to your younger brother. Furthermore, he sends you here as a glorified messenger, when he could have easily sent a raven. May I ask why?"
There was a twitch in Stannis' face, which Aerion guessed to be the gritting of the man's teeth.
"I cannot claim to know the intentions of my brother."
"You're no fool Lord Stannis. At least I hope so. Granting you the ancestral seat of my house could be seen as a great honour, or perhaps as a slight against you. I assume you know the contents of the letter. Tell me why I should trust the word of a man who shows such pettiness against his own brother."
"I can't."
Aerion nodded. "You can't. That's honest. I like honest."
He sighed.
"Explain something to me then. How did this come to be?"
The King of the Stepstones motioned towards the letter on top of his desk.
"Jon Arryn and Eddard Stark," answered Stannis. "It took both of them to convince Robert. And the threat of the Lannister's fury as well."
Ah, now that made some sense. Far too much sense, in fact. There was moment of silence as the two drank their wine, and eventually Aerion spoke again.
"Tell this to your brother and his Small Council. I am open to the renewal of treaties between the Stepstones and the Seven Kingdoms. But negotiations will take place here in Bloodstone. I will not step foot in Westeros until my safety and that of my family is assured."
Stannis nodded, knowing that what he had come to do was accomplished. "Very well."
"Shall I order accommodations for tonight, or will you be departing today?"
"I shall go today your Grace. The sooner my brother knows, the better."
Aerion nodded. "On that, I agree as well. Safe travels, Lord Stannis."
Stannis got up, but just as he was leaving the study, Aerion called to him.
"Oh, Lord Stannis."
Stannis looked back at the king.
"Do take good care of Dragonstone. There's a lot of history in that old keep."
The day eventually came. It was weeks later, but it came.
Robert Baratheon had come to the Stepstones, hopeful to renew the treaties between both kingdoms.
"Announcing the arrival of Robert of House Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, and his spouse Cersei of House Lannister, Queen consort."
Robert's wife… now he couldn't really tell what her thoughts on being there were. However, she did seem quite distracted. Or was it bored. He could never tell with Lannister women.
But Robert Baratheon… even a fool could tell Robert Baratheon was not happy to be there.
Those in the courtyard bowed to Robert's arrival, but did not kneel. Keeling was only for their king, after all.
"Welcome to Bloodstone, King Robert. Queen Cersei." said Aerion, as cordially as possible. "I hope there was no trouble during your voyage."
Robert nodded gruffly. "It went well."
Aerion knew he needed to tread careful with Baratheon. For now, he had to mellow the man sufficiently enough.
"Thank you for your hospitality, King Aerion," said Cersei, her tone far more diplomatic that her husband's.
"I have had quarters set up for you. If you wish to rest before negotiations begin, feel free to do so."
And they did.
"I don't like Targaryens."
Aerion looked at Robert in mock bemusement.
"I can't imagine why."
Baratheon snorted.
"I'd figured you'd be swearing vengeance at the man who stole your family's throne and brought their deaths."
Aerion shrugged. "The deaths of Aerys and his spawn matter little to me, no matter how distasteful they may have been. And I care little about the Iron Throne. Bloody chair can melt for all I care."
"Eh, I thought you Targs were all friendly with each other. Too eager to jump into each other's beds."
Aerion snorted. "The Dance of Dragons should have been proof enough that even Targaryens aren't above family disputes. Aerys made it clear he decided to insult my mother," he said, before looking at Robert with a serious look. "By coming here, you've already proven yourself a better king than him. In my eyes at least. The madman refused to be in the presence of 'sullied blood', as he called it."
"And Rhaegar?"
Aerion huffed. "The apple didn't fall far from the tree. Only a madman leaves his wife and children to chase after another woman. And one already betrothed. Rhaegar dug his own grave."
"Not quick enough!" growled Robert. "The bastard still had enough time to rape and kill her."
"And you gave her justice in the Trident."
Robert nodded with grim satisfaction.
"Aye, that I did."
Aerion sighed.
"Look at what we've become. Madmen, rapists, and kidnappers. So much for the great House Targaryen, conquerors of Westeros."
He finished drinking his wine, before looking at Robert with an unreadable expression.
"I hope you stags do a better job than we did."
The next day, countless ravens left Bloodstone, flying east and west. The message they carried was the same.
"I, Aerion Targaryen, First of My Name, King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, Shield of the Broken Arm, Freeholder of Valyria, Lord of the Conquest, Navigation, and Commerce of Westeros, Essos, and Sothoryos, do hereby recognize by own my free will Robert of House Baratheon as the rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."