All right, I'm back.

I've thought about the update schedule since last time, and I've decided that I'm going to be updating this fic at a rate of once a month. That won't impact the upload schedule of The Wind Our Steed, however.

Claw Isle - 99 AC

The seat of her new husband was hardly what she had been expecting.

From what little she'd learned of House Celtigar from her childhood in King's Landing, the Celtigars were the forgotten child of Valyria, tucked away in the Sea of Crabs, content to rule their domains over Crackclaw Point and sit out of the realm's affairs. The prestige of the Velaryons and Targaryens greatly eclipsed those of the Celtigars, and the court was far more interested in the first two families than the third.

It seemed the court had been wrong in this matter.

Claw Isle was resplendent in the morning sun, the light reflecting off the waves in a magnificent view. Dozens of villages dotted the isle, and industry boomed along the interior. Farms grew in the flatter patches of terrain, and quarries sprouted up from the hills on the south side of the island. From her perch on one of Claw's many towers, she overlooked it all.

The seat of House Celtigar was made of reddish granite, solid and unyielding. The artisans of Claw Isle drew their craft from Old Valyria, and the architecture of the castle was a prime example of this. Towers spiraled in twisting formations, and the individual bricks were invisible even upon close inspection. Men in red-and-white uniforms marched along the ramparts and trained in the yard below.

The castle of Claw descended the mountainside, similarly built into the ground as was Casterly Rock. While the Rock was a hulking monstrosity, Claw was chiseled and refined, with valyrian runes and inscriptions running up and down the rock face. Embrasures ran up and down the slope, perfect in the event of a siege.

At its base was a small lagoon, separated from the greater Narrow Sea by two barrier peninsulas. It was there that House Celtigar housed its sizable navy, forty strong warships, and another sixty cogs. Ten more warships patrolled the coast of Claw Isle, while over a hundred cogs roamed and traded across the Narrow Sea.

House Celtigar was a major trade partner with many of the Free Cities, including Braavos, Pentos, Lorath, Myr, Tyrosh, and Lys. Some cogs made their way to Volantis, while many traded domestically with Gulltown, Tarth, and White Harbor.

Gael was seriously impressed.

All in all, she was feeling better and better about her situation. Despite missing her mother and brothers, it was nice to be free of the stench that permeated King's Landing, and the two-faced nature of court. She could never fully understand what drove people to place themselves in that situation when they could be far more content in their holdfasts and keeps across the country. Now that Gael had a keep of her own where she could rest, she never wanted to return to the capital.

Her husband was also definitely not a negative aspect of her marriage, either. Malden was sleek, handsome, and charming in all the right ways, and was understanding of her needs. The Lord of Claw Isle hadn't pressured her after the wedding, and they had only consummated the marriage some months later after Maester Gyles had assured them there would be no ill effects on the child.

Gael felt her cheeks go hot. That had been a… pleasant experience, to say the least. Malden had been attentive and caring, yet passionate all the same. It had been leaps and bounds better than her first time. The only drawback was, well… that she lacked the opportunity to repeat the process.

Her husband had departed two months before to oversee the reconstruction of the Whispers on Crackclaw Point, not far from Claw Isle. As per the arrangements Malden had made with her father, the crown would provide funds to repair the decrepit old castle, reinvigorating the ruin into a seat for Malden and her second son. The Celtigars would finally have a proper seat on Crackclaw Point, to better oversee their vassals and the administration of their holdings.

Gael had been left to oversee the island in his stead and had been floundering in his absence before Maester Gyles and Ser Edmund Florent- a close friend of Malden's- stepped in. Maester Gyles had taken responsibility for the accounts and organization of the servants, while Edmund had begun to organize patrols around Claw Isle.

Maester Gyles was a scary figure, but he had proven helpful time and time again, and Gael was left wondering how Malden had lucked out in acquiring his services. Edmund, too, was an excellent find.

The third-born son of Brightwater Keep had fostered at Claw in his youth and had sworn his service to his brother by choice as soon as they'd both reached their age of majority. Edmund had a bright and jovial outlook that reminded her much of Baelon, and Gael had quickly found a friend in the young knight.

Edmund was Master-At-Arms of Claw, tasked with drilling the men of the keep in all sorts of exercises and drills. Gael enjoyed watching them every once in a while, not in the least because it was a pleasant experience on the eyes, what with the stretching and grunting and sweating. But she also enjoyed the rhythm of it, the way that they moved in tandem with one another like a single beast.

It reminded her of stories her mother would tell her of the dragon bond, of the connection to be had with a dragon and its rider. How the two were one mind, one heart, and one soul, bound together until the rider's death. She'd said to have been able to sense Silverwing all the way from the Dragonpit, across the entire city of King's Landing.

The rest of her family seemed to share this trait, from Father to Baelon to Viserys to Daemon.

How Gael had wished she had a dragon of her own. Maybe then she wouldn't be so easily fooled.

No. I won't think about it.

Walking along the ramparts of Claw, she was suddenly aware of the acute sensation of wet smallclothes, akin to her first encounter with Silverwing when she had wet herself in fear. That had been ten years ago, and she'd been absolutely humiliated. The court fool had mocked her for ages until Baelon finally put a stop to it. There was no fool to mock her now.

She called for the maester.

The Whispers - 99 AC

Jaehaerys' coin was being put to good use in Malden's new keep.

To furnish it, Malden had hired men across the entire Crownlands, lumberers from the Kingswood in the south, smiths and masons from King's Landing and the surrounding Blackwater Rush, and a sturdy workforce from the rural land of Crackclaw Point. House Staunton, his family's most powerful vassal and the house of Malden's late mother, had sent some of their personal laborers to aid in construction. Both House Brune of Dyre Den and House Brune of Brownhollwo had sent help of their own, in increasing amounts to one-up each other.

At this rate, the Whispers would be easily repaired and expanded by the time his son would need to inherit it. It would stand tall over House Celtigar's dominion, and ensure complete supremacy over their vassals.

The future was bright.

"My lord!"

Jonah Waxley was his squire, a bright-eyed boy of one and ten name days. He was as tall as a spruce and thin as a willow, and still growing beside. Brown of hair, Jonah had a green smile that made Malden think of better days, back when he wasn't the last of his house.

As the future heir to Wickenden, Jonah's squiring with Malden was a sizable tie with House Waxley, and the alliance between their families would mean dominance over the Bay of Crabs virtually unrivaled by their competitors. House Darry and House Cox were constantly at each other's throats, while the Mootons had been in decline ever since the founding of King's Landing. Even Gulltown, thousands strong and the economic center of the Vale, could not compete with House Celtigar's industry or manpower. Claw Isle exerted massive dominance over the Narrow Sea and had all of Crackclaw Point at its beck and call. The Waxleys would be the tipping point in the delicate balance that was the Bay of Crabs.

He focused on his squire. "Yes, Jonah, what is it?"

Jonah crested the hill where Malden stood, taking a second to catch his breath as he did so. One could see all the surrounding lands from this point, the forests, swamps, and plains stretching for leagues. The central tower of the Whispers would be built here, with the rest of the keep resting on the lower slopes.

"A raven, from Claw Isle. The Princess Gael has gone into labor."

Malden blinked before his face split into a grin. Despite the way that Gael's child had come into the world, it would still be his family. He'd promised his wife as much and would stick to it. The young dragonseed would grow up with the best Claw Isle could offer. If it were to be a boy, he'd have martial training that had produced warriors such as Ser Clement Crabb of the Kingsguard, and personal education on rulership from Maester Gyles and Malden himself. Were it a girl, he had a personal assurance that Queen Alysanne herself would fly to Claw Isle to help with her education.

If Malden had his way, this bastard child would never learn what that word even meant.

He rounded on his squire. "Jonah, this is fantastic news! Let us make haste to the ships, we sail for Claw Isle!"

The boy nodded, and together the two of them jogged down the slope.

…

The birth was over before he arrived.

Maester Gyles and a pack of midwives had flocked to one of Claw's highest chambers, where each and every one of Gael's needs had been taken care of. From personal experience, Malden had known of the fates that could befall young mothers, and he hadn't taken any chances. He'd instructed his attendants to keep the birthing room warm and dark, lit only with dim, scented candles.

The rookery had also been told to send ravens to King's Landing upon the first signs of labor, as he'd known that his goodmother would be deeply invested in the birth. Queen Alysanne had spoken to him at length before their departure, both advising and threatening him in the same breath. She'd detailed the dangers of pregnancy that she and her children had faced, and how Gael would need the utmost care. Malden, who agreed on all fronts, had been quick to assuage her fears, and he'd promised she'd be alerted as of the birth.

Malden, followed quietly by his squire, rushed into the apartments set aside for his wife's delivery. Upon entry, he could already hear the loud cries of a babe, belting out protest from a strong set of lungs. Good, he thought, it's strong.

The first thing he saw was his wife's face, flushed with exertion and sweat from the ordeal. She was breathing heavily, but had a contented expression on her face, and was staring down at the bundle in her arms. She was so absorbed in the babe's visage that she didn't notice her husband come in.

Maester Gyles, on the other hand, did. "My lord," he said, standing. "The birth was a resounding success."

"Malden!" Gael gasped, her eyes alight.

He knelt next to her side, not responding to his advisor. "Princess. I am deeply sorry for my absence."

"Forgiven, husband." She smiled at him. Bless her. "Come and meet Aethan."

"He's a boy?"

"Yes, hale and hearty."

"The child is well within the upper limits of size, my lord," supplied one of the midwives. "The largest I've seen, for sure."

Malden couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. "Good, that's good."

"Yes, it is." Gael let out a little chuckle.

The babe was large, as the midwife had said. A growth of silver curls sprouted out across his forehead, and his eyes were a vibrant purple, akin to two twin amethysts set into his head. His chubby hands gripped tightly onto his swaddling clothes, and he let out little coos as his mother stroked her fingers across his forehead.

Then a dragon roared, and Aethan Waters started to wail.

…

Queen Alysanne the Good set down in Claw's inner courtyard, wrapped in furs for her flight from King's Landing. She had a worried expression on her wrinkled face, but her fears were quickly soothed as she saw her daughter, healthy and proud, standing on a nearby balcony. Malden held Aethan in his arms, and the babe cried uproariously as his blankets were buffeted by the wind generated by Silverwing's landing.

The metallic dragon sniffed curiously at the source of the sound, its luminous blue eyes blinking at the small being in Malden's arms. Both Gael and her child reached towards its snout, holding their palms to the scaly flesh of Silverwing.

Malden, himself, was terrified. He'd not been nearly this close to a dragon in his entire life, and Silverwing was one of the eldest in existence. With Balerion dead five years past, only Vhagar, Vermithor, and Dreamfyre were larger. The beast easily filled half the space between Claw's walls and cast a shadow over much of the lower castle. The three generations of Targaryens were the only ones who were unaffected, and it was all Malden could do not to retreat inside.

"Mother!" called Gael, her voice ringing out over the walls. "Come inside, and meet your grandson!"

The figure of Alysanne dismounted with great difficulty, catching herself on the flank of her great mount. Almost immediately, Silverwing's probing snout retreated from their balcony, and Malden could see it nuzzling its rider with obvious concern. Already confident in the answer but still cautious, Malden spoke to Gael in a hushed tone. "Is the dragon a danger to the castle's staff?"

She gave him an amused look. "Silverwing is the most docile of all those in my family. Without my mother's say-so, Silverwing would not harm a fly."

"Good."

The pair walked down to Claw's main hall to meet with the Queen, who was in the process of handing off her gloves to a servant when she arrived. Alysanne's honey-blond hair had been replaced with the bone white of old age, and she walked with a long cane of ivory. Neither of these facts detracted from the joyous expression on her face as she took in her grandson.

Aethan and the Queen were startlingly similar; they both had high cheekbones and high foreheads, and the turn of their noses could have been lifted from a mold. Malden saw nothing Andal in the boy's features- they were all Valyrian, down to the smallest of details. That's a good thing, he decided.

This child would need all the help that he could get.

Gael helped her mother hold her baby, before returning to Malden's embrace. He couldn't help but smile as she did so. For the first time in ages, he had a family. It was something that put all of Malden's troubles as a lord into perspective.

"Goodmother. Please meet your grandson, Aethan Waters. He is healthy and hale, and has strong valyrian features."

"Good, good. How was the birth?"

"Hard," admitted Gael, "but I made it. Maester Gyles and the midwives were a large help, although I didn't appreciate it much in the moment."

Alysanne chuckled. "Yes, I recall some rather cruel moments from my own births."

"Mother!"

The two chuckled, and Malden was left feeling adrift between the two of them, unsure as to whether he should take part or not. It was his wife and his goodmother, but the bond between the two was so obvious he didn't want to interrupt. That was until Alysanne rubbed her daughter's shoulder lovingly, and looked to Malden.

"May we speak privately? The three of us, that is?"

Gael was confused. As was he. "Of course," she began, "But-"

"It will be just for a few moments, sweetling. Let the maids tend to your child."

Alysanne hobbled out of the room.

Gael gave him a look as she handed Aethan off to a midwife. "What does she want?"

"No idea," he shrugged. "It's probably nothing. Let's just handle it, and then continue with the visit"

"Lord and Lady Celtigar!" Alysanne's voice echoed out of the other room.

"Coming!" Gael called.

Malden took his wife's hand, and together they strode after Alysanne into one of the side chambers. The room the Queen had gone to was the one he planned to use when Aethan grew older, complete with a four-poster bed and a high-runged balcony overlooking Claw Isle. Tapestries of assorted Celtigar and Targaryen lords of ages past adorned the walls, and a bookshelf ran across the entire length of the room.

Alysanne waited along the balcony, looking out into the setting sun. For a second, she wasn't Queen Alysanne Targaryen, but an old woman, hunched and wistful. Her skin was leathered, and she was unable to place her full weight on her right leg. Spots dotted Alysanne's forearms and neck, and her clothes were clearly designed for comfort instead of style.

Malden was suddenly hit by a great deal of respect for this woman. She turned to face them, just as Gael closed the door.

"I will be dead soon."

Gael gasped. "Mother…"

"What… Your Grace?"

She smiled, eyes crinkling. "I can feel it. Near all my children have gone, only three remain. Baelon and Vaegon have not needed me for some time, and now my Gael doesn't either. I have no reason to remain."

Gael shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. "Of course I need you, mother."

"Surely…" Malden was at a loss for words. "Your lord husband, he-"

"Is too concerned with succession and power and authority. He has no time for me, for his family. He hasn't for a while."

She closed the distance between them, bracing her weight on her cane. Now it was just the three of them, she didn't even attempt to hide her pain, and Malden quickly eased her onto Aethan's future bed. "Thank you, my lord."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Blue eyes, still holding strong where the rest of her body was failing, gazed imperiously up at him. "Because I'm worried for my daughter. For my family. For Westeros."

"Why-"

"Listen now, Lord Celtigar. I am going to die, and my husband will be quick to follow. The two of us have kept the realm together for just over half a century, half the total time the Targaryens have ruled. There are few who remember better the reign of Maegor the Cruel, and how it tore apart our family. Our brothers died to him, our sister was raped, and dragon fought dragon. Balerion slew Quicksilver south of the God's Eye, and burned thousands of Aegon's followers. Maegor and his mother nearly even torched the Starry Sept. It was chaos, and I fear it was only a warning.

Now, Targaryen blood has spread throughout the realm. We've married the Velaryons, the Baratheons, the Arryns, and more. My brother Aegon had his bastards, and only more have been born since then. Aemon, Baelon, Daemon, Saera… oh gods, Saera… even my Jae has not always been faithful. The blood of the dragon is spread across the Seven Kingdoms. Furthermore, there are a dozen dragons between King's Landing, Dragonstone, and Driftmark, and more eggs are laid every year."

Malden was dumbfounded. What was she saying? Aegon? Aemon? Jaehaerys? Gael spoke up for him. "Mother-"

Alysanne's hand gripped his wrist, her voice desperate. "The entire realm is laden in wildfire, and it would take but a single fallen torch to set it off. Targaryens, Velaryons, Lannisters, Baratheons, Hightowers; they and more have a stake in the game- and they will be lethal about it. Maegor's reign? That was a hint, a taste of what is to come. And I am terrified."

"The Velaryons and Targaryens are sworn allies. Baratheons too. Bound by blood-"

"But Baelon is heir, and Corlys Velaryon is ambitious. He will fight for his wife's rights, and old Boremund will support them. The realm will burn as the dragons dance. And I will be naught but ash in the ground."

Malden pried her hand from his and took some steps away. He took some calming breaths, and pressed his hands against his temples, rubbing small circles. "What would you have us do?"

Her voice was as cold as ice. "I will be leaving Silverwing on Claw Isle, for Gael to claim when I am gone. House Celtigar has allies, I know they do. Jaehaerys has not looked to the Narrow Sea in decades, but I know you have more power than you let on. I know you have funds stored in Claw's deep halls. Reach out, use your pooled resources. Keep the dragons from destroying themselves."

"Your grace-"

"Mother-"

"Please," rasped the Queen.

The Lord of Claw Isle knelt, his wife joining. She wobbled, still weak from the birth, and he steadied her.

"I swear it."

"I swear it."

And the plotting began.

And we're off.

I wanted to put a spin on the whole 'bastard birth' thing that we see with people like Catelyn and thought that an intelligent, understanding dude like Malden would be able to see past it. He's both aware of the political and personal benefits of having a Targaryen bastard in his family and isn't going to shun the kid for something he knew about going in.

Also, this is just my personal interpretation of Alysanne and her fears. She's an old woman and has seen much. If you notice, she hasn't pegged the Dance all that accurately, only the dangers apparent at the moment. She's just trying her best.

Things are going to be speeding things up from this point, as the next generation is brought into play. The events in House of the Dragon aren't going to be reenacted unless the changes this story makes will significantly affect them.

As always, review, favorite, and follow as you see fit.

Until next time!