77 AC - 79 AC
The years 77 AC to 79 AC saw the continuation of the quiet period that had fallen over the realm for the last decade, with little of interest of importance taking place in the seven kingdoms or in the Red Keep. This period did see the second wave of Ironborn adventurers set off from their home to plunder and conquer. By this period of time, the Ironborn settlement beyond the wall in the Frostfangs was waning, and by 80 AC it would be completely abandoned, with the Ironborn sailing back to the Isles with their ill gotten plunder of pelts, walrus tusks and amber jewelry, despite the settlements end after just seven years, the returning Ironborn were hailed as heroes, and no doubt their return coincided with influencing the second wave of adventurers.
An ambitious Ironborn named Roggon Drumm, a skilled warrior and commander with little prospects on the Isles due to his minor standing within clan Drumm led some 2000 Ironborn adventurers and twenty Longships east to the Stepstones with intent to plunder and carve out a realm of his own, attracting far more support than Dunstan Sunderly's expedition beyond the wall had, since the Narrow Sea and its proximity to Essos and its shipping lanes provided the perfect place to reave and practice the old way.
Roggon Drumm chose the small rocky island chain known at the time as ''the Skulls'', which were just east of the crowns frontier in Nerrisa, as his target, successfully driving out the Mahhaladors, a Farosi pirate family which held power over the Skulls and establishing an independent Ironborn stronghold in the middle of the Narrow Sea.
Roggon would name himself King of the Stepstones following his victory, and although his domain only stretched so far as the limits of the Skulls, the speed of his longships and the ferocity of his Ironborn raiders would make his realm more powerful than the average pirates in the Stepstones.
2nd Moon, 80 AC
''Shield up Aenys.'' Lord Qoherys, the Red Keep's Master-at-Arms and Marshal commanded in his usual quiet but stern tone.
Aenys did as he was bid, raising his shield just in the nick of time as another one of his cousin Jaerions heavy blows hammered his shield, sending him stumbling backwards across the cobblestone courtyard.
Jaerion followed up with another slash towards Aenys's chest, a rather sloppy strike in truth, his cousin had always relied far more on his strength than any sort of natural skill, but it was enough. Aenys raised his training sword to attempt to parry, but his shoulders were still ringing and sore from blocking previous strikes, and Aenys's sword fell out of his hand with a clattering thud.
His cousin gave him his signature arrogant smirk, and lightly jabbed his sword forward, resting it on Aenys's breastplate.
''Dead.'' He said, still smirking and staring down at Aenys, despite Aenys being several months older than Jaerion, his cousin was big for his age, and had two inches on him, much to Aenys's resentment. The girls watching the bout from the balcony above gave a round of applause for the crown prince's victory, the girls all loved Jaerion…his easy smile, his perfect hair, his jokes…it was infuriating. Aenys gave a glimpse up to the balcony and saw Rosie, the daughter of one a commander within the City Watch, and a girl he had liked for years joining in with all the rest.
Aenys slapped his cousin's training sword off of his chest wordlessly and stormed off to the side of the courtyard, standing sullenly.
Jaerion was still preening like a peacock, swaggering about the training yard as if some great conqueror, holding his sword in the air.
''Whos next?'' The Princeling asked the crowd, pointing his sword one by one at the boys of the castle.
Aenys looked up to the balcony and saw the girls giggling, one of them whispered something in Rosies ears and she blushed.
Aenys wordlessly stepped forward, surprising even himself, it was his custom to retreat to the corner of the training yard and sulk after being beaten by his cousin, but not today.
Jaerions deep purple eyes turned to him, sparkling in the sun, he flashed a smile as he turned his sword to point at Aenys ''It seems my cousin wants to add another bruise to his collection.''
Aenys said nothing, stepping forward and preparing his stance, the other boys of the castle hooting with laughter and roaring encouragement to Jaerion.
''You're sure you can handle it Aenys….your mood seems to be as dark as your hair.'' Jaerion said, continuing with the theatrics and earning more laughter from his cronies.
Aenys said nothing and raised his shield.
''Aenys?'' Lord Qoherys asked simply.
''I'm ready.'' He responded simply and Lord Qoherys nodded for them to begin.
Aenys abandoned all of his prior training, all thoughts of strategy leaving his mind, replaced with only one goal.
He wanted to hit the bastard.
With a yell Aenys charged forward like a bull, raising his sword like a madman, abandoning all prospect of defending himself.
It worked.
The sudden wild charge took Jaerion completely by surprise, who had rather arrogantly kept his sword pointed downwards and had not even adopted his stance, no doubt wanting to play it cool put on a show for his audience.
Aenys first strike, a wild butcher cut took the Crown Prince in the shoulder, Aenys did not stop there, running into Jaerion with a heavy thud, knocking him to the ground.
Aenys continued striking his defenseless cousin with a flurry of blows,ignoring the shouts of Lord Qoherys which blended into the cacophony of noises from the watching squires.
Jaerion may have been arrogant but he was no coward, rather than cowering in a ball to lessen the force of the blows, he waited until after Aenys had delivered another strike, to his chest and grabbed the sword as Aenys was withdrawing it, grabbing his wrist with his other hand and pulling him to the ground where the melee devolved into an all out brawl.
Jaerion jabbed an elbow into Aenys's chest, knocking the wind from him and causing Aenys to double over with a gasp. His cousin wrestled his way on top of him and raised a fist to bring it down on Aenys, who closed his eyes and awaited the blow that was no doubt going to break his nose.
''THAT IS ENOUGH.'' The normally silent and taciturn Lord Qoherys roared, causing Jaerion to hesitate while one of the Kingsguard, Ser Allard Caffren separated the two boys, pulling Jaerion off of his cousin by the shoulders.
Aenys remained doubled over on the ground, trying to find his breath as Jaerion staggered to his feet, spitting a little blood and wiping a matted lock of hair from his eyes, to Aenys dismay, his strikes had done little to diminish his good looks.
His cousin gave his signature smirk, though there was no trace of warmth in his eyes ''Easy cousin…..we are both Targaryens here…..well….some of us more than others.''
''We are done with training for the day.'' Lord Qoherys said sternly.
''Glady.'' Jaerion said, giving Aenys one last look before leaving the training grounds, his cronies close behind.
Aenys remained on the ground, his breath slowly returning to him, Lord Qoherys left as well, but not before giving Aenys a look that might have passed for some kind of approval.
Aenys looked up to the balcony, hoping Rosie would come down and tell him how brave he had been, but she had gone along with Jaerion and all the rest, all except Aemorys, his cousin and Jaerions younger brother.
Despite the age difference between them….Aemorys had only just been made a squire to Lord Qoherys the previous month, being the youngest of the squires in the training ground, they had always been close, with Aenys helping Aemorys understand the duties of being a squire, and the boy was all to willing to listen.
He will surpass me soon Aenys thought to himself, even in just a few months of training his cousin had grown strong, and it was clear he would take after his older brother in physique, though at least he had a much more agreeable temperament than his older brother, even if he was a little sullen at times.
They were further bonded by the fact they both were somewhat odd looking for Targaryens, with Aenys having dark black hair and Aemorys having long brown hair.
At least he can explain it Aenys thought to himself, it was commonly said Aemorys had inherited the Waynwood look from his paternal grandmother, but Aenys had no easy explanation for the coloration of his hair, something Jaerion and his cronies did not fail to remind him at every opportunity. Aenys had asked his mother once about it, and his mother simply replied that sometimes people are just born different….she had been drinking at the time however, something she did more and more these days and Aenys was not convinced.
Aemorys offered his hand and helped Aenys up off the cobblestone.
''He's bigger than you…did you really think it was going to work?'' Aemorys asked in his usual disbelieving tone.
Aenys dusted himself off ''It didn't have to work….I just had to do it.''
''Yeah.'' Aemorys said sullenly ''I get it.''
Aenys smiled at that, the image of him hitting Jaerion on the ground clear in his mind, and would remain so for many years, always coming to the forefront whenever Jaerion would begin to taunt him.
I hit the bastard Aenys thought to himself, a small smile on his face.
He ruffled Aemorys's hair ''Let's go and see to our armor.''
80 AC - 82 AC
The later months of 80 AC saw a significant project undertaken by Queen Laena, as she ordered an expansion to be built to the Dragonpit in Kings Landing, commissioning a large single pitted dome to be built near the second one, much to the befuddlement of the workers and the Dragon Keepers as the main pit was not close to being full, and no dragons were even close to reaching the size of the single pit, not even Vhagar.
The reason for this expansion would become clear to not just the dragon keepers but the entire city as one morning a darkness enveloped parts of King's Landing.
Meraxes had arrived.
The silver death was over one hundred feet in length and the shadow of its wingspan caused entire parts of the city to grow dark as the beast passed overhead, causing much terror among the inhabitants, the dragon was almost as big as Balerion the Dread had been before its death.
The beast was ridden by a Mantaryan, Jaeremion Rebagyr, known in Essos as Jaeremion the Dragontamer, a rather unremarkable man in truth, but one that had somehow managed to tame the beast during one of its rare flights outside of its lair on the islands in the Smoking Sea.
As one might expect, when word that Meraxes, the silver death had been tamed, interest in procuring the Dragontamers services was in high demand, with invitations and promises of riches and glory, palaces and lordships being offered to Jaeremion by almost all the Free Cities and even beyond in Essos.
None offered more than Laena, Queen of Skulls.
Jaermion was promised use of his own dragonpit upon the high hill, a royal marriage with a member of the Royal Family in time, perhaps Jaehara if he were to set aside his own wife, palaces in Kings Landing and Oldtown, Vineyards in the Arbor and orchards in the Reach, royal titles and honors, positions for any followers he might attain, access to secret texts and tomes of the Dragonkeepers, and most importantly….lots of gold.
Any individual that knew anything of Laena, Queen of Skulls would have immediately been cautious…the Queen was not an individual to so recklessly lavish such rich honors freely, but Jaermion knew little of the Queen, except that her family were the only other dragon riders in the world, the blood of the Valyrian Freehold….previous deaths of dragonriders attributed to the Queen of Skulls were not widely known or even suspected by those in Essos.
The Dragon Tamer enjoyed these rewards and riches greatly….for a short time.
8th Moon, 81 AC
Street of Silk, Kings Landing
Jaermion clapped his hands and the servants began to bring out the next course to him and his companions, a massive roast of honeyed aurochs followed by a salad of crushed almonds, spiced with cinnamon from the Jade Sea.
To wash it down, several cups of wine from far off Yi Ti were brought in, which Jaermion had his servants procure from Pentos, though this wine was reserved for himself, the rest of his followers would have to content themself with other local wines, such drink was not for the likes of them.
As usual he had the servants cut the choicest parts of the roast off for himself, before the rest was distributed to his friends, local merchants mostly, along with his bodyguards and musicians.
A merry tune from a pipe was played by one of these musicians, while some of the most expensive dancers that could be procured in the Street of Silk followed along, clad only in wisps of silk.
Far better than any in Mantarys Jaermion thought to himself….Kings Landing was in truth a shithole compared to the Free Cities of the east, but it was an improvement over the grim city of Mantarys, and something excited him about the city and its warmth and young feel.
He had heard Oldtown was even better, and he looked forward to visiting the palaces the Queen had said awaited him below the Starry Sept. In truth he would leave for Oldtown as soon as he had taken the Princess Jaerhara to wife, a gloomy girl in truth but a Princess nonetheless…which would make him a Prince? Jaermion was not quite sure, Westerosi customs were still foreign to him, but it would do a great deal to help his position that was clear. Once he was in Oldtown he would commission a dragonpit for Meraxes there…it would not be quite in keeping with his agreement with the Queen, but with Meraxes at his side the old woman could hardly refuse him.
He had set aside his wife Raelaesa without much thought, she had been angry of course as he had known she would be, but she was no fit consort for a man of his position.
He took a bite of the roast.
Owning this establishment does have its advantages Jaermion thought to himself, in addition to owning this establishment to host his followers each night for a great feast, he had hired one of the finest cooks in the city, an old woman from Tyrosh who specialized in Essosi fare with a Westerosi twist.
Even the honeyed aurochs could not distract him from thinking about his former wife's bitterness, or the gloomy nature of the Princess Jaerhara, his future bride…something told him it would not be a happy marriage.
Best to start making acquaintances The Dragon Tamer thought to himself pushing the thoughts of marriage from his mind…he was still a bachelor for the moment, and a very eligible one at that.
One of the dancers came by to refill his cup of wine, silks swirling provocatively.
He lightly pinched her as she walked by, pulling her onto his lap, earning a giggle.
He was about to suggest they take the next course in the comfort of his chambers above when the scent of smoke and burning reached him.
If that old woman has burned the boar i'll have her flogged Jaermion thought angrily to himself, he had spared no expense on the final course, an absolutely massive boar taken in the Kingswood just days prior, and if that clumsy oaf had ruined it…..
His other companions began to notice as well, and stood up, suddenly the bright flickering of flames danced in the corner of Jaermions eyes, and he turned in horror to see his new Myrish carpets had taken fire.
''Fire!'' One of his bodyguards, a huge Norvoshi axeman shouted obviously, while another of them, a bravo from Braavos, drunkenly stumbled to his feet and had the bright idea to pour a cup of his wine on the blaze.
Jaermion pushed the girl from his lap in annoyance.
''PUT IT OUT.'' He screamed.
Suddenly he heard shouting from upstairs and saw the stairs were afire, with one of his merchant friends and a dancing girl he had taken upstairs shouting down, trapped upstairs by the flames, both in various stages of undress.
Sparing them no more thought he made his way to the door with a cough, it was time to go.
The gilded iron door didn't budge.
He pushed again.
''GET IT OPEN.'' He shouted to the Norvoshi, who lowered his shoulder and ran into it, ending up on the floor with a heavy thud as the door didn't open.
The air was filled with heavy black smoke at this point, making it hard to see, and the shouts from upstairs had since grown ominously silent.
The Norvoshi began hitting the Iron Door with heavy strokes of his axe, but he doubled to the floor coughing.
Jaermion looked around in horror, watching his carpets, fine clothing and food…..the life he had always dreamed of consumed by the flames.
The men and women inside screamed, shouted and prayed in half a dozen languages, Jaermion included, but to the outside all that was heard was the screams of death.
Afterwards it would be said the fire had been caused by ostensibly natural causes, a fallen lamp upon the carpets, but there were some who swore afterwards that they saw heavy iron bars affixed to the smoldering ruins of the door.
Despite the possibility of it being a natural fire, this killing has largely been attributed to the Queen of Skulls. Whilst the riders of the dragons Aelesar and Chalfyre, and the dragons themselves were relatively unknown, the dragon Meraxes was very well known through most of the Free Cities and most of the high nobility had been informed that the largest dragon in the world had returned to Westeros, and there was little doubt in the minds of the Essosi that the Queen of Skulls had the man killed in order to steal his dragon, though none dared confront the Queen, especially with her addition of Meraxes. Various court sources give credence to this theory as well, stating that the Queen had never truly meant to offer up her daughter in marriage to the foreign dragonrider.
82 AC
The year 82 AC would be a year of death
Alysanne Targaryen, daughter of King Vaemond the Strong, widow of Aumary Tyrell, Lady of Highgarden and sister to the Queen of Skulls would be leaving the wedding feast of her son Ellard Tyrell and Marena Waters, bastard of her sister Cymella, walking through the gardens of Highgarden back to her chambers when she would collapse on the path, never to rise again. Her body was examined by Maesters, who ruled out any foul play, stating her heart had simply given out, given the Lady of Highgardens poor health for several years there is little indication that the Queen of Skulls was involved in her younger sisters death, though it was certainly a fortuitous event for the crowns position.
With the death of Alyssane Targaryen, so too died the threat of her faction and claim to the Iron Throne which had posed a risk to her sisters position for over a decade, leaving only her two siblings Vaekar and Cymella to oppose her sister. Maesters agree that Alysanne Targaryen posed a significant threat to the Iron Throne in the immediate period following the Council of the 3 Dragons, but the death of Torrhen Stark and the loss of the North's support ended any realistic hope of her ascension to the Iron Throne, and at the time of her death, only the Crownlands truly posed any risk of rising up in support of her claim.
With his mothers death, young Ellard Tyrell was left alone to rule the Reach, and his family was to grow even smaller.
It was not long until Marena Waters announced she was pregnant with her first child.
It would also be her last.
It would be a troubled pregnancy from the beginning, with the Maesters being very concerned for both mother and child, with some whispering the difficulties resulted from the taint of bastardry, and the gods were punishing mother and babe. Marena would eventually give birth to a healthy boy, Norman Tyrell in an extremely painful birth.
The birth would cause significant damage to the body of Marena Waters, and she would pass away three days later, never leaving the birthing bed.
Young Ellard Tyrell, having lost both his mother and wife within a year, took out his rage on those he held responsible for his fathers killing.
For years his mother had told him that the Florents, who had always felt spurned that they had not been named Lords of the Reach following Aegon's Conquest were the foremost of the Reach Lords that had betrayed his father during his ''trial'' behind only his aunt, the Queen in causing his death.
The young Lord marched to Brightwater Keep with all the chivalry of Highgarden behind him, using some pretext or another and demanded Lord Humfrey Florent abandon his keep with all his family by nightfall, or the golden rose would be raised over the bloodied and torn banners of the fox.
Lord Florent was a cowardly man if the tales could be believed and, knowing he stood no chance against the powerful host raised against him, meekly abandoned his ancestral home and fled to the Riverlands to live among the Brackens in Stone Hedge, who were bound to the Florents by blood and marriage.
This action would gain the young man much respect as a military mind, and it would not take long for the other Lords of the Reach to fall in line.
The Queen had greater worries than her nephew's growing power in the Reach however as disturbing rumors had reached her of a plot to murder her daughter and heir Lianna.
The Queen dispatched Vaella at once to get to the bottom of these rumors, and it did not take long for Vaella, in contact with her spies, snoops, and sneaks to discover that the danger that Lianna faced was very real, and Lord Uthreydes Rosby and Lady Gael Velaryon were indeed plotting to have the heir to the Iron Throne killed. Both had been among her sister Alyssanes greatest supporters, and no doubt by having Lianna killed, they hoped to destabilize the realm and the succession to Vaekars benefit, as he was their second choice.
The Queen of Skulls would not allow that to happen.
It was an easy enough matter to have Lady Gael seized, the old woman was nothing if not trusting, and she made the trip to Kings Landing when the Queen sent a raven promising some honor or position to her family, upon entering the Red Keep she was allowed to make her way unchallenged to a set of suites that had been prepared to her, only to find the next morning her door was locked and barred, and her household guard that had been posted outside were ominous unresponsive.
Lord Rosby was slightly more difficult, his friends would say at best he was erratic and unpredictable, while those less inclined to use polite language would label him as a madman. In the end however he too would be caught whilst hosting a feast for his smallfolk outside the castle, surrounded by Ronnel Baratheon and his dragon cloaks, along with Vahelion Celtigar and Josmyn Bettley of the Kingsguard, with the garrison of Rosby only being able to watch helplessly from the ramparts as their lord was dragged off, thrashing like some wild beast and his retainers were slain.
Soon after their capture, Lord Rosby and Lady Velaryon were led to the dragonpit atop the hill of Rhaenys.
11th Moon, 82 AC
The Dragonpit, Kings Landing
Laena smiled slightly from her cushioned seat on the pavilion overlooking the sandy central pit of the Dragonpit as the traitors were dragged in and thrown to their knees upon the sand, Lady Velaryon, the treasonous bitch, was already sobbing.
Her daughter Lianna stood at the side of her seat, an emotionless expression upon her face as she looked at the traitors below.
''Princess…..I beg of you….show mercy, I never plotted your death.'' Lady Gael said, sobbing.
''You do not deny you were in league with Lord Rosby?'' Her daughter demanded coldly.
''I…I do not Princess…but I swear….I…I would never have taken part in your murder…I…'' The old woman croaked.
''You would not have taken part in my murder but you knew it was going to take place…you are complicit Lady Velaryon.'' Lianna continued, the same coldness in her voice.
''Princess please!'' Lady Velaryon begged but Lianna turned her eyes to the fat Lord Rosby, who was muttering something to himself.
''If you have anything to say in your defense Lord Rosby, now is the time.'' Her daughter said.
The man prostrated himself upon the sand, bowing deeply to her.
''Princess….I am a worm….a miserable worm…..not worthy of Dragonfire…..spare me and I shall do whatever you ask…..I shall be your most humble and hardworking servant.'' The man said.
''You are right Lord Rosby.'' Lianna said and the man looked up hopefully.
''You are a worm.'' Her daughter finished coldly and the man's hope quickly faded from his eyes.
Laena was about to raise her hand and give the order when her daughter gave her a hard stare, causing her to pause.
The Queen thought her daughter was going to defy her, that a trace of her old daughter's weakness remained, but her daughter proved her wrong.
She stepped forward.
''Lord Rosby….Lady Velaryon…..in the sight of gods and men….I, Lianna Targaryen….Master of Laws of the Seven Kingdoms and Heir to the Iron Throne do find you guilty of treason and conspiracy to commit murder.'' Lianna said before pausing for a moment.
''Princess please…please don't.' Lady Velaryon pleaded.
''And in the name of Laena Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men…..do sentence you both to die.'' She finished, turning her back on them and returning to the side of Laenas seat, deaf to both of their cries.
Laena waved her hand, signaling the dragon keepers to raise one of the huge gates in the dragonpit, while other dragon keepers began commanding the beast to follow them in Valyrian.
Vhagar appeared, and clearly in a bad mood from being woken, slowly trudging through the gate into the huge sandy pit in loud crashing footsteps that set the sand to shaking even on the opposite side of the pit.
Lady Velaryon was shrieking in terror by now as the massive seventy foot dragon slowly approached them….it was music to the Queens ears…the screams of traitors were sweeter than any song.
Laena let the fear build for a moment as the dragon towered above them, she wanted them to be afraid before the end, Vhagar began making a guttural noise in its throat, and bright orange flame could be seen building in its throat as it slowly opened its maw right in front of the unfortunate traitors.
''Dracarys.'' She commanded simply.
The massive dragon unleashed a torrent of flame at both of them, Lady Velaryons shriek continuing for a moment before growing silent.
Laena watched the two bodies smolder and dance in the flame.
A shame it couldn't have been Alyssane Laena thought to herself, trying to imagine how her cow of a sister would have looked in the flames.
In truth her sister had saved her a great deal of trouble by simply dropping dead. Vaekar had not left Dragonstone in years and had all but sealed off the island, making any subtle attempts on his life improbable and after years of attempts, Laena had decided to move on for the moment, and Alyssane had been next.
Vaella had hired a band of crossbowmen, more competent than the ones in Blackbridge she was assured, and they were to ambush her sister as she left the sept in Highgarden on the Feast Day of the Mother.
Her eyes returned to the charred and smoldering corpses, Vhagar had torn what remained of Lord Rosby in half and had begun to feast when she felt a presence behind her.
''M..Mother.'' Her daughter Vaella said.
''What.'' Laena said, more harshly than she had meant, the thought of Alyssane smoldering in dragonfire had been a pleasant one and she had not wanted to be disturbed or broken from it.
Her daughter had a small smile on her face and handed her a small piece of parchment from a raven.
Laena took the parchment in her hand and read it.
Her brother was dead.
The Queen of Skulls began to laugh as the smell of cooked meat and dragonfire filled the air.
On Prince Vaekar Targaryen, Histories of the Targaryen Dynasty
Prince Vaekar Targaryen was found dead in the chamber of the painted table, slumped over the carved map of the realm he had lusted after for so long, so close to his dream and yet so distant. He was 48 years old. Many have theorized that he may have been murdered by his older sister the Queen of Skulls, and while this is certainly a possibility, there is little in the way of court records to prove this and it must be said the Prince had been in decline for many years.
Servant accounts and court records from Dragonstone show that following the birth of his stillborn daughter, the Prince was well and truly broken. Secluding himself in the chamber of the painted table he spurned all visitors, taking his meals inside and even having his bed brought into the room, not even venturing out for feast days or to visit the village sept, and servants report he scarcely ate for fear of poison from his sister, especially heightened after the sudden death of his sister Alyssane, with some theorizing the man could have quite literally starved to death. In truth, outside of these records, the final years of Prince Vaekar are a mystery.
The Prince of the Stepstones has long been a polarizing figure in Westerosi history, and many have pondered why he never made a true play for the throne, especially given his vast potential and impressive accomplishments as a young man.
There are many theories to this. Some point out that the rumors which surrounded the Prince were too great an obstacle to overcome, while others show it was clear the Prince had lost the boldness he possessed as a young man. Others still say that he gave up any true hope of gaining the throne when he supported his sister Alyssanes claim above his own, while others claim he befell some curse in Mantarys (these rumors are not to be given any credence).
In truth, the most likely reason Prince Vaekar never gained any significant support was the fact that he never sired a male heir, and it is a known fact that the Lords of the Realm will never rise for an heirless claimant, which future events in the history of the seven kingdoms give credence to.
While the final years and the end of Prince Vaekar are mysterious, one thing is clear. The life of a man whose journey had taken him to the Stepstones, to Mantarys and far off Valyria ended in a small dark chamber on Dragonstone, alone in the Narrow Sea.