Rhaenys sat beside the imposter calling himself Aegon as they received the latest of the slave masters. Varys did most of the talking, with "Aegon" content on merely listening and Rhaenys being the silent one watching every little detail unfold before her. She didn't care much about the slave masters, for she grown used to their type after seeing what occurred behind the closed curtains of Lys' many pleasure places. However, it still sickened that she would have to be around those who enslave others and that would be the source of their supposed power to retake the Iron Throne. Good thing that I keep my figure by training rather than getting fat like every other bastard does.
Rhaenys heard the same shit go on, with the slave masters swearing allegiance to the imposter calling himself her brother and him promising to restore slavery in its original form. They all offered gifts in the form of gold chests and such, not that her fake brother and Varys were strapped for it, but Harry Strickland told Varys that such gifts would keep the Golden Company paid in the long term.
As for Jon Connington, he kept talking with the "son" of her beloved father and told tales about how heroic Rhaegar was and how he was bewitched by the Stark woman. That was when Rhaenys realized that no one could really be trusted because they had their own views on her father and tried to impose them on others. She saw Lyanna Stark and her mother next to her father, if only briefly and the memory very distant, but she knew better than to reveal it lest Varys declare her crazy and thus putting more control on her. I know that he already has enough control over me already, so I don't need him over my thoughts.
But their next and most important meeting was with Malaquo Maegyr, the leader of the tiger faction in Volantene. Even though the slave masters brought an army, their contribution was nothing compared to what the tigers brought. Four hundred vessels and over forty-five thousand soldiers, all of them well-trained and representing the core of the tigers' strength back in Volantis. As for the Maegyrs themselves, Rhaenys was are that their family was old Valyrian blood, or at least those of families who managed to survive the doom. Whether they could bond with dragons was debatable, as families claiming to have the blood of old Valyria were could not bond with dragons unless they married into a house that had a proven history, which was the Targaryens at the moment. And I doubt that they have dragonrider descent in any of them.
Malaquo Maegyr was an old man with hardly a tooth in his mouth, but he was very deadly and very eager for battle. And he sat across those with the senior claim to the Iron Throne, or rather at least one of them. I haven't thought about what I would do if the imposter dies. Should I claim it myself or negotiate with my supposed aunt?
"Triarch Maegyr, thank you for journeying all this way to—" Varys began to speak.
But Malaquo cut him off but raising his palm. "Save it, you eunuch. I have little patience for honeyed words and even more so when battle is afoot."
Varys was caught off guard, causing Rhaenys to give a small smile at the first time she saw him become flustered. "I am merely trying to ensure that our alliance is off on the right foot."
"It already is. Aegon Targaryen will take the claim from the woman calling herself the liberator, he's going to marry his sister to unite their claim and beget a dynasty, and I will play a huge part in ensuring that he becomes King of the Slaver's Bay and then of the Seven Kingdoms. There's nothing more that is to be elaborated upon."
Well, at least he doesn't waste time, Rhaenys thought.
"Well, we haven't really discussed marriage prospects for Aegon the Sixth of His Name, but it is a suitable match, no doubt," Varys replied while trying to regain control of the conversation.
"Isn't that how it always was? Purity of the blood must be maintained and the only way to do that in this day and age is to ensure that those with the same blood marry each other, in this case brother and sister," Malaquo said.
Rhaenys bit her bottom lip. She didn't know whose blood the imposter had, but she'd be damned before she allowed him in her marriage bed. I might remain a maiden, for I will not serve some other's whims.
Varys, for the most part, was unprepared at how Malaquo was showing his impatience. "Well, you are right—"
"Unless of course, there is another course of action that can be taken," Malaquo suggested. "I would advise the Targaryen king to marry someone of old Valyria who can still keep the Valyrian blood pure while also introducing the benefits of a marriage alliance."
Varys laughed nervously. "Perhaps we can move the discussion of marriage to another time?"
"No," Malaquo refused. "If you want my troops and my ships to fight for your king, we must discuss it."
"I thought you came here for that purpose already," the imposter said.
"I came to fight Daenerys Targaryen and her band of freedmen, which also includes the husband of my now deceased niece."
That, Rhaenys didn't expect. As did Varys and the imposter. "Robb Stark is here? Alive?"
"I thought you would have known, given your reputation back in the Seven Kingdoms," Malaquo scoffed. "It appears that there are limits to what the Spider knows and can do."
Varys glanced at the imposter, who looked less than pleased. "The son of one of the key men of the Rebellion is here in Slaver's Bay? Tell me, Lord Varys. How did he survive the Red Wedding?"
Varys was at a loss yet again. "I don't know, Your Grace," he stammered.
"But going back to the topic, my niece married for love and look what happened. However, I have granddaughters who are more mindful of their duty and they'll be very open to the possibility of being a queen."
Varys cleared his throat. "If it must be, the future consort to the rightful king must have roots in Westeros. And Rhaenys does have the best qualifications, for not only was she born there, she also has dragonblood. For the purity of the blood to be maintained, it is only within reason that she marry her brother like the Targaryens of old."
Malaquo sighed. "If that is your choice, then what do you have to offer me to fight for you? And I would like to hear your king speak, for the gods know that I've heard enough talk from a eunuch?"
The imposter gulped, for this was his first time dealing with a man of actual power. And since Varys couldn't speak for him anymore, Rhaenys saw his hands slightly tremble. How could this get any more worse?
"Besides marriage, what do you seek?"
Even Rhaenys knew that was a poor way to begin negotiations, but Malaquo saw his advantage.
"Once you recoevered our throne, I require the armies of Westeros to fight alongside the tigers to subjugate the Free Cities. It's only right that might meets might."
"Triarch, that is not within—" Varys tried to intercede.
"Done," the imposter nodded. Varys froze while Malaquo stood up, pleased.
"Excellent. Then I shall look forward to fighting alongside you on the field of battle." With that, the Triarch left.
"Your Grace, you should've not have promised that," Varys hissed.
"You seem to forget your place," the imposter finally found some spine, but only in the worst setting. "I am your king, and I will now make my own decisions. You will be consulted as always, but don't ever talk down to me or use whatever tone you wish."
"Please consult with me whenever you make such a decision, Your Grace. I have served you faithfully and I know the intricacies of Westeros by heart. Whatever I do is only for the best interests, but I apologize for speaking out of turn," Varys pleaded.
The imposter smiled before patting Varys' shoulder. "I accept your apology, which is all I really wanted to hear. Now, we got some planning to do."
Ever since that question about Balerion the cat, Rhaenys didn't want to be in the same room as Aegon. She tired herself out by training, straining her arms with the Dornish spear and also dominated six of her opponents with her bare hands and legs. She might not have been the strongest woman in the world, but she could confidently say that she was among the most flexible and quickest, both of which she utilized to run in circles around her opponents. And not once did she see the imposter in the training yard, contributing to her low opinion on his abilities. If by some miracle he gets the throne, I do hope that he can last more than one year.
Once everything quieted in the manse, Rhaenys fell asleep once more and felt herself enter that same world where she saw those dragons.
This time, Rhaenys found herself in settings with sloped roofs, screen doors and walls, and characters that she presumed to be Yi-Tish based on her studies. And in an open space lay that woman calling herself her aunt and a large black dragon.
Turning around, Daenerys noticed her. "It's you."
The dragon, named Drogon if she remembered correctly, purred instead of growled at her. "For some reason, I'm not afraid whenever I see a dragon even though I know where my heritage lies."
"Then it proves that you are who I have suspected for so long. You are my niece, Rhaenys," Daenerys walked up to touch her face, but she stepped back.
"Then why did you leave me to fend for myself?" Rhaenys asked.
Daenerys was rightfully guilty. "I didn't know you were alive, but I know that can never be an excuse because I should've tried harder to find you and any other of my family."
"Is it true? The one in the east is really Daeron, my brother?"
"If you are his sister, then it is the truth," Daenerys answered. "You two have my brother's blood."
"How can I trust you?" Rhaenys asked bitterly. "You're off trying to become queen yourself and if what you say is true, you must be pursuing my supposed brother for your own ends."
"No, no," Daenerys shook her head. "I thought I was alone, and I was doing what I did because I thought there was no one left. But with you and Daeron, everything is so much brighter. There is hope for our family, which has been missing these past twenty years."
"I don't know if I can believe you, or anyone else anymore," Rhaenys shook her head. "I've been used my entire life and now I have to be with someone who I know is an imposter. And our family is rife with those who seek to undermine each other, so what makes you any different?"
"Because I don't want to be alone anymore and I am willing to do whatever it takes to persuade you that I am telling the truth," Daenerys was almost desperate.
"The truth? Since when is the truth ever enough for those like us?" Rhaenys asked pointedly. "The truth is something that can be bent and broken by others, but I will admit that you're a dragon. If what you say can be trusted and Daeron is indeed my half-brother… I shall see for myself when you do reappear. Until then, this is the face of someone who has learned to doubt because her survival depended on it." And with that, the flames dissipated as she reentered the blackness of her empty dreams.
Daenerys continued with her lesson with Daeron, who was teaching how to write basic but essential sentences in guanhua, which was the language used by the majority in the empire and at court. She knew how to perfectly speak the common tongue, High Valyrian, the variant of Valyrian native to Tyrosh, Dothraki, and Ghiscari. With enough time, she might be able to speak guanhua, the military language of nihonjin, and goryeomal as spoken in the southeast province. However, reading and writing were different matters.
"No, no," Daeron shook his head while he grabbed the pen and guided her hand. "There is a certain order that you have to remember when writing these characters. If you don't follow them, it's going to cause a lot of confusion as you try to communicate your words."
"Does it have to be in that particular order?" Daenerys asked.
"It's the same thing with the common tongue, since there are certain motions that you have to learn before you can move on. I remember the first time I learned this and every time I made a mistake, my tutor ripped up the paper told me to repeat it one hundred times," Daeron said.
"Seems as if you have had a strict teacher."
"But I did learn good habits and it taught me patience," Daeron continued. "And don't worry. I didn't learn this quickly, so let's take it slow."
Daenerys nodded. But she felt her heart quicken at the touch of his hand on hers, as he guided her on how to write each of the characters. It was something that was happening every time, for she felt things inside her that she had not felt for anyone else whenever they touched her. And she didn't know if Daeron noticed, but part of the reason why she was learning slowly was because she wanted him to spend as much time as possible with her. He is always so busy, especially because of that dangerous Lengii woman.
And in these settings, she could really take in Daeron's scent, his thick black hair, the touch of his strong limbs, and the seriousness in his grey eyes. Daeron initially thought that Daenerys would benefit from another to instruct her, but she insisted that he teach her on the tongues spoken in the empire and he proved very understanding. Whenever they were not focused on the next blank piece of paper, she looked at his jawline, his strong neck, his lips, his nose, and his eyes. She might have had a good impression on his physique, but her being able to examine so closely made her all the more assured that the man next to her was the best one so far. And good thing he's as much of a dragon as a direwolf, for he is not bothered with how close we are in terms of blood.
Daenerys suggested that Daeron wear his hair down. As much as his tied bun made him look clean, it didn't fully match him. "I have to remain like this. These people taking 'caring about one's image' very seriously. I even saw a father beat his son with a cane because he failed to shave."
Daenerys raised an eyebrow. "They're that serious about appearances?"
"They only tolerate my beard because I am a white devil, but looking clean shows that I respect their culture. And even my beard has to be trimmed, for they don't like it when it's too bushy."
"I keep hearing that term. What exactly is a 'white devil?'" Daenerys might have had some idea, but she didn't want to make assumptions.
"It's what they call anyone with white skin. Essentially, anyone from Westeros or any foreigner who have a pale complexion will get called a 'white devil.'"
"Ah," Daenerys nodded in understanding. "And if not for my queenly status, they'll call me a white devil?"
"No, they still call me a white devil even after the previous emperor granted me princely status," Daeron shook his head. "Granted, it's not a very inventive term, but it is what it is."
Daenerys clicked her tongue. "I'm not in a position to complain. I did come across a few Yi-Tish people back in Slaver's Bay and people there called them 'yellow.'"
"If you say that openly, you will offend many people here very quickly," Daeron warned. "They don't like it when people call them 'yellow.'"
"Understandable," Daenerys nodded. "I am amazed at how this part of the world was able to advance so far ahead of Westeros, the Free Cities, and Slaver's Bay. Many of the things that are considered superstition are now explainable in these lands and they even have tools that can match dragons in terms of fire."
"I would disagree, dear aunt," Daeron shook his head. "The black powder might be very useful and has already allowed the Golden Empire to move on to a higher form of war, but it can never match the power afforded to us by the dragons. For how can a substance that can allow explosions compare with creatures who don't need to anything to cause fires to burn?"
Daenerys smiled, for her nephew had become a great defender of the dragons and she could see that his connection with Meleys made him a true dragon prince, unlike with her poor departed brother. But yet, there was one question that remained occupied in her mind and she had to ask it.
"Daeron, I've been meaning to ask this." Daenerys looked at him directly in his grey eyes.
"Please, dear aunt. Anything."
"What do you feel for me?"
"Happiness," Daeron smiled. "I've finally have another one of my blood by my side, and nothing could be more better for me, apart from the blood I have with me also."
"No, no," Daenerys shook her head. "I know you have feelings for me, but I want to hear you say it."
"Say what?" Daeron asked.
All right, this is getting annoying, Daenerys thought impatiently. She would've thought that bedding two women would've made him more perceptive about women. "Do you love me?"
Daeron blinked, for even he couldn't avoid a question with such straight language. But he nodded quickly. "I do. Even though I bedded Chanhee and then Khiara, I never stopped thinking about you from the moment I saw you through the flames. And our time together made me feel… whole. Life is a mystery and with you, I don't feel so lost as much as before."
Daenerys' face let out a wide grin. In an instant, she leaped into his arms and kissed him deeply, surprising him. But as she kept his lips on his, she could feel him close his eyes, wrap her arms around her body, and enjoy her touch. And that was what she needed to know to see the depth of her feelings.
"Well, this is unexpected," a voice called out. Daenerys and Daeron looked to the source and saw Sam watching. "I mean, I knew it was going to happen but to actually see it is something else entirely."
"Sam, what are you doing here?" Daeron asked.
"I was told to bring you to the court. The military council is about to convene."
"Right," Daeron remembered. As the captain of the imperial guard, he was also entitled to sit on the council. "Can she be brought along to watch?"
"She has a big black dragon, so I don't see why they would oppose her attendance," Sam shrugged.
"Perhaps, Sam, you would be more… considerate of such moments," Daeron suggested pleadingly.
"Oh, I understand, Jon. Things are progressing fast between me and my own lady, so I understand the need for privacy."
Daeron smiled in thanks, as did Daenerys. Normally, she would have been upset that such moments were interrupted, but as Sam was his friend, she was going to treat him well also.
"I'll just be outside when you're ready," Sam then walked out.
"You're a good kisser," Daenerys rubbed Daeron's lips with her thumb. "I've been kissed before, but you make it feel so… I don't know, exhilarating."
"I feel the same way too," Daeron put his hand on her cheek. "Thankfully, you did it first because I am not always the first to initiate such things."
"Oh, you're so hard on yourself," Daenerys looked up in his grey eyes. "I should thank Chanhee, and also Khiara, for they both made you into just the man I want. And I wonder what other lessons you've learned, especially during the night hours?"
Daenerys could see that Daeron was very tempted to do exactly that, causing her to run her hands down his shirt and onto his solid abdomen. However, he snapped out of it, to her displeasure. "Oh, I see what you're doing. We must wait."
Daenerys frowned. "Why? We both love each other, so what's the problem?"
"The best things should be saved for later," Daeron shrugged. "And don't try to deny it, for I know that you were not fully paying attention to the lessons."
Daenerys cringed slightly. "Right."
"So… how about I withhold myself from you until you learn?" Daeron jested.
Rather than be annoyed, Daenerys was very much amused. "It's going to be like that then?"
"It's going to be good for you too. After all, what better way than to see what I've learned in the night hours than after marriage?"
Daenerys' eyes blinked in surprise. "Marriage?"
"Now that we both know without a doubt how we feel about each other, it's only natural. And it's very advantageous, given that the both of us have claims to the throne. By marrying, we can avoid such headaches and not have to deal with the whole dynastic strife that has constantly afflicted our house."
Daenerys was further pleased. "Are you proposing to me now, Daeron?"
"Not yet," Daeron shook his head. "But I will soon. I'm just letting you know ahead of time so that there will be no surprises between us."
Daenerys nodded in approval. "I like that. And I will look forward to when you do propose."
Daeron smiled before extending out his hand. Daenerys took it and they walked together to the court, with Ghost closely behind and Sam ahead with his own lady.
But as they walked to the convening of the military council, Daenerys couldn't help but wonder about what she had seen last night. Indeed, Rhaenys was alive and there was proof of her existence that she could show to Daeron, who she sensed had also had such interactions with his dead sister. However, she also remembered that it was many years before Rhaenys met another of her blood and she remained confused and lost. These, she knew because it was what she experienced while with Viserys and before meeting Daeron.
Regarding what Daeron said about life no longer being a mystery because of her, Daenerys could also feel that about Rhaenys. She didn't know how she began to feel that, but she knew that the dragons could only be stronger together and with Rhaenys by their side, everything would be complete. However, she was also manipulated her entire life even though she was mostly spared the abuses that Daenerys had experienced by the hands of men and she was not exactly going to trust Daenerys and Daeron if they did see each other for the first time ever.
The first obstacle then would be to eliminate the one calling himself Aegon, for why else would he not show up in their dreams if he didn't have the blood? She didn't know if it was really true, but she was still bothered because she didn't know all of the facts. And without knowing the facts, she would be prone to make mistakes. Only this time, the mistakes would be costly not just to herself but to her family as a whole. And given that there were only three Targaryens left, they couldn't afford it.
Hopefully, the answer to solve Rhaenys' doubts will be revealed soon. Daenerys had no intention of fighting Rhaenys, not after what she saw last night, and she was going to everything in her power to stop that. But for now, she would also cultivate the relationship that was now fully budding with Daeron.
"Come on, come on, make them go after you," Stannis whispered to himself as he watched his light horsemen clash with the Dornish cavalry. Everything depended on their ability to draw out the main force of Dornishmen, who currently held the better position right on the northern edge of the Red Mountains. Naturally, he couldn't attack someone on higher ground, so he had make them come towards his own forces.
Taking the advice of his lords, Stannis allowed the Dornish spears to march through the main gateway of the stormlands and even allowed them to take Blackhaven without resistance, but not before he slighted the castle's walls, took the crops and animal herds, and burned everything else. He even went so far as to poison all of the wells that could be used by the advancing Dornishmen, who treasured water more than anyone else in the Seven Kingdoms for obvious reasons. Their only remaining hope was to advance as quickly as possible out of the Red Mountains and into the flatter grounds of the stormlands, with the exit at the ruins of Summerhall.
That was what Stannis was waiting for. The Dornish spears were good warriors on the defensive, but centuries of warfare within the Dornish marches showed that they lacked skill on the offensive. And he betted that the Dornishmen knew that there would be a battle awaiting them at the ruins of Summerhall, so they would have to force their way through or retreat before their lack of fresh water caused severe damage to their army.
From what Stannis' scouts reported, the army that they would face were comprised of bannermen from the "sand" and "salty" Dornish houses such as the Ullers, Qorgyles, Tolands, Dalts, and Jordaynes. Curiously, the only banner present that originated from the "stone" Dornishmen happened to be the Wyls, which wasn't exactly surprising to Stannis since they were utterly loyal to Sunspear. But the absence of the more worrisome houses of Dayne, Yronwood, Manwoody, and Fowler made him curious, for he would expect them to be the vanguard and core of any Dornish force. Might be something that I should broach with my scouts at a later time.
Still, the "sand" and "salty" bannermen of Dorne were not to be underestimated and they numbered twelve thousand, which was more than half of the Dornish force that invaded the stormlands. Given the need to hold the line at the Wendwater, Stannis could only assemble a force of four thousand, meaning that he was outnumbered three to one.
Once the Dornish spears approached the ruins of Summerhall, Stannis was able to get a clearer idea. They were arranged in a manner similar to a cyvasse board, which was not surprising since that game was all the rage in Sunspear from what he had heard. Their infantry was arranged in seven or eight well-placed independent blocks, with their cavalry on the flanks. Whoever was in command made four lines on the crest of a ridge, with the first line consisting of four infantry battalions, cavalry in the second line, six infantry battalions in the third line, and cavalry in the fourth line. The infantry battalions formed in squares of thirty by thirty, with swordsmen and axe men on the edges and pikemen in the center, and gaps between the squares allowed passage of their cavalry.
As for Stannis, he adopted a formation where he strengthened his left wing under the command of Lord Caron while his right wing was led by Lord Swann. His center, made up of his best infantry he could muster, was under his personal command. He chose to command the center because he needed to continue to be seen fighting alongside his troops while he would entrust the more momentous actions to the marcher lords that could be present.
For the past few hours from his estimation, his light cavalry engaged the Dornish cavalry. He needed them to get off their higher ground and he had every confidence that they would do so because the Dornishmen had faith in their numbers and how far they advanced. But they were also desperate, as the only way that they could water was to push through them at the ruins of Summerhall.
Sensing that enough time had passed, Stannis turned to his banner-bearer and nodded his head. Holding the Baratheon stag with flames up high and waving it in big motions, the leader of the initial attack saw the signal and commanded his men to retreat.
"Prepare," Stannis directed a messenger to inform Lord Caron. As the initial attacking force withdrew, Stannis had to appear that he was about to fall back also and sent his banner-bearer back to the ruins on horseback. To the enemy, it would look like as if Stannis himself was about to fortify the ruins and thus not give battle on open ground.
As he hoped for, the Dornish spears advanced to the bottom of the slope, with their second line of cavalry advancing to cover their first line of infantry. Stannis raised his hands, signaling to his archers to draw bows. "Volley and… loose!"
Thousands of arrows, all of them tipped with armor-piercing heads, flew through the sky and onto their mark, surprising many and taking hundreds in an instant. The Dornishmen were not as well-armored as the rest of the Westerosi bannermen, but Stannis was not going to take chances and sought to inflict maximum damage.
"Loose at will!" Stannis was satisfied with the results of the first volley and thus allowed his archers to keep up the arrow barrage. Then, as expected, he saw Lord Caron charge advance forward with the left wing, mostly mounted knights with lances, and they charged forward at the last moment.
The Dornish, having been caught in an arrow barrage that caused more casualties than anticipated, were woefully unprepared at the appearance of the strong left wing, which then collided with their right flank. What remained of the first two lines of their army were decimated and the third line, to Stannis' surprise, remained where they were. It certainly didn't help that they were very close to each other, so close that when the first organized line of cavalrymen had been crushed by the charge of Lord Caron's wing, they started to trample their fellow Dornishmen on foot as they fell back.
Then, the same retreating Dornish cavalry crashed into the third line, resulting in some of them starting to run. Stannis was even more surprised, but he wasn't going to look at the gift horse in the mouth and acted quickly. Meanwhile, he saw Lord Swann charge forward with the right wing and they collided the second and last line of Dornish cavalry, this time with them standing their ground after withstanding the charge of lances.
"Provide cover with your arrows!" Stannis commanded as he mounted his horse. "Forward! With me!" Stannis led his center towards the secondary cavalry clash, with his pikes lowered and advancing steadily across the field.
"Faster!" he shouted and the pikemen quickened their pace.
Seeing the Baratheon move forward, one of the Dornish mounted men charged forward and tried to run him through with his spear. At the last second, Stannis turned his torso to the left, missing the spear by inches, before he brought his sword and slashed the Dornishman's back. Feeling a rush that he had not felt in a long time, Stannis rushed his horse and charged into the side of an unsuspecting cavalryman, pushing him off of his mount while one of the knights in Lord Swann's wing finished him off by cutting off his head.
Seeing their king directly in the fray as was the case in the Blackwater Bay, the pikemen went into an all-out charge and sunk their pikes into what remained of the Dornish cavalry. One of them was unfortunate to have five pikes pierce him at the same time and not even their mounts were spared.
Stannis regained his bearings and saw that the left wing had managed to charge up the slope and into the retreating infantry. And with the force of Dornish cavalry utterly crushed, what few survived began to retreat also. "Make safe Summerhall, men!" Stannis pointed at the retreating enemy with his sword. "Push on!"
The number of Dornish bodies increased following their rout, which went beyond Stannis' expectations and happened quicker than he had anticipated. The narrowness of the paths back into the Red Mountains made their retreat all the more difficult, thus allowing their stormlander opponents to catch up and cut them down. Stannis remained on horseback as he told his men to show no mercy. The Dornishmen made their choice. I shall show them the price of treason.
However, Stannis noticed a Dornishman lying on the ground with his belly open and intestines sprawled out. But he could see the hate in his eyes for Stannis. Dismounting his horse, Stannis knelt beside him. "So… your masters in Sunspear have chosen their side. Let today be evidence of what happens when they make the wrong choice," he gloated.
"You might have won the battle today, stag, but you will not win the war," the Dornishman spat in defiance.
Stannis was rather amused and wiped off the spit. "If you think that the gold shit that sits on my throne will last, you are wrong. I am still here, and I have probably killed most of the Dornish spears that your prince had sent."
The Dornishman scoffed. "If you think that we are fighting just to ensure that gold fat bastard remains on the throne, you are mistaken."
That got Stannis' attention. "Why else would you be here then?"
"You might have the blood of dragons in you, stag, but you are not a full dragon and not a true one. The Seven Kingdoms shall be ruled by a dragon with Dornish blood and he's on his way."
Stannis searched through his mind, and he could only laugh at the ridiculous notion. "Impossible. The Targaryens born through Elia are dead."
"Or so you thought."
Stannis was not ready to believe that, but he had one more question. "How do you know all of this?"
"Because I am Ser Garibald Shells, and I can die knowing that the reign of dragons will come back again."
Stannis didn't know that knight, or what his family was, but he had heard enough. Reading his sword, he struck downwards on his chest and pierced his heart. He then twisted it, thereby ending Ser Garibald's suffering.
But as the stormlanders continued to kill any retreating Dornishmen left, two questions came to his mind: where were the "stone" Dornishmen and if Ser Garibald's words were true? They might have crushed the core strength of the "sand" and "salt" Dornishmen temporarily, but as long as the "stone" banners were out there, the fight with Dorne was not over, even though he estimated thousands of casualties on their side compared to only a hundred on his own.
And if Ser Garibald's boast had some root in the truth, Stannis had to prepare also. One threat at a time, he reminded himself. But for now, he had cause to celebrate for he and his men had performed above expectations.
Davos paid the fee that allowed him to tie his ship to the dock. He had to use colors that were not his own, because the Baratheon banners and even that of his house would attract the wrong attention. He had a duty to Stannis and concealment helped him fulfill it. If anyone finds out who I am, they can just hang me from a gibbet because I don't have the colors.
"Ser Davos," Shireen adjusted her hood. "Must we do this?"
"It's for your own protection, princess," Davos straightened out her dresses and her hood. "The Baratheon name is not one to use openly here."
"But aren't we far away from those who want to hurt us?"
"We can't take any chances. We have no idea who the Lannisters have sent to track us down," Davos answered as he led Shireen and their party of ten men, all of them in disguise and handpicked by Stannis himself to protect his daughter.
Stannis fortunately saw reason and sent Shireen away from Storm's End, much to his wife's and queen's protests. Davos was relieved that his king made the right decision and spent the last few weeks at sea until he could put enough distance between his ship and Westeros. Any of the Free Cities directly across the narrow sea from the Seven Kingdoms was out of the question, especially Braavos, Tyrosh, Myr, and Lys. Lorath was also too far and they would have to pass by Braavos also.
Volantis might have been tempting, but Davos had also heard tell that the city was not exactly calm. The tigers might have been able to amass an army and gain an upper hand in the politics of the city, but the elephants were also being vocal in anything that would affect the depth of their pockets. And given that the red temple was located in that city and Davos not exactly on friendly terms with Melisandre, he didn't want to be near the center where Melisandre's brethren congregated.
Davos also contemplated Slaver's Bay. However, given the unrest due to the actions of Daenerys Targaryen and of the slave masters, that part of the world was unstable and not safe for Shireen. And if the rumors were to be believed, there was another Targaryen on the loose and Shireen would be in danger for not only being the niece of the Robert Baratheon, but for also having the blood of Rhaelle Targaryen. Seven Hells, when would I stop choosing the lesser of bad options? Davos thought to himself.
That was why Davos decided to dock at Volantis, for as far as he knew, nobody was actively looking for Baratheons in that part of the world. And he sent a man ashore to scout out whether it was safe. Once he came back with his head intact, Davos made the final approach.
"Where would we go now, Ser Davos?" Shireen asked as they moved deeper in the city.
"I don't know," Davos admitted. He wasn't one to hide the truth and wasn't going to lie to make him look more assured when he was far from that. "We just have to find someplace to rest and stay low until we hear word from your father."
"Do you think he won, Ser Davos?"
"I hope so, although he's not one to lose battles easily."
"Just like at the Blackwater Bay?"
"So many things could've gone better for everything to have ended on our terms over there," Davos still remembered that battle was fresh as day, as what father wouldn't?
"Just like the Tyrells not showing up?"
"One of the big reasons," Davos answered. "Nothing we could've done, not after what happened to Renly."
"And because of that, my mom no longer has a home?"
Davos sensed her sadness for her mother and patted her head. "She can always get it back. However, I believe that life is more important at the moment. I might have my own lands, but they're useless to me until peace comes back. And I truly believe that whatever her faults, whatever she is doing right now is for you alone."
"Then why does she not hug me and not care for me as much as my dead brothers?" Shireen asked.
Davos sighed. There was nothing he could say to fully satisfy her, for he didn't know the queen as well as he should have. "What I can say is that I am a father and I still have my three youngest boys with me. There's nothing that I won't do for them and everything that I have done so far was that they can have a better life than I ever had. And I am very sure that whatever your mother the queen feels, she wants that for you."
Shireen looked glum, but she appreciated Davos trying to make her feel better.
"Now, how about we find somewhere warm for the night? Perhaps you can be read me more stories from that book on the Targaryens."
"I think I will," Shireen smiled.
Davos couldn't speak any of the languages that the Volantenes spoke, so he had to pay someone who could interpret for him to guide him through the city. While they were trying to get to a tavern where they would be able to hide for the moment, he stopped and saw a red priest preaching before a crowd of freedmen.
"He's saying that the dragons bring promise of a better world for all," the guide noticed that Davos was watching and translated for him. "There comes a time when the differences between the slaves and the masters are erased and that all must come together to build a bright future while protecting themselves against the coming of the Great Other. However, the dragons need the help of everyone else for they cannot do what they were ordained to do all by themselves."
Davos was already not liking where this was going and urged Shireen and the men to move faster. "Come on. Let's make haste."
Unknown to them, they were already recognized and were being followed. However, they were acting on orders of Kinvara, who whispered to each other, "So this is who Melisandre wants to watch over?"
"She says that smuggler will play a huge role in the coming fight."
"Why do we have to do this?" the red priest might have been devout in his following of the Lord of Light, but that didn't mean he enjoyed every minute of it. Even priests and priestesses got bored.
A/N: Rhaenys finally got real with Daenerys, so both she and Jon will have much to do if they want to get close to her.
On the other hand, finally we get our very first genuine Jonerys moment. Although why did Sam have to interrupt it?
The battle was based on Kircholm (1605), which only lasted 30 minutes. Remarkable even in that time period.
And Davos finally has Shireen out of harm's way, but what does the red faith want with them?
Till next time, folks!
