Chapter 57: The Tower Cracks
Fog covered the thick, half-drowned forest the trio of skiffs weaved their way through the swamps of the Neck. Jaehaerys shivered and tightened the cloak around him, trying to ignore the muggy chill as the canopy blocked out the fading afternoon sun.
He often dodged and crouched, trying to prevent the wet moss and filthy vines and branches of the trees from dirtying his clothes. One touch from a slimy leaf only moments after the skiffs - propelled by polehandlers who shoved long poles into the mud below the murky surface to push the boat along - touched off from the jetty at Moat Cailin did he know he wished not to endure that again.
Laughing, the guard of House Reed patted the boy's shoulder, hard. "And yer' supposedly a war hero?"
"I led a sally from the gates of the Dragonpalace myself," he replied with a scowl.
The guard shook his head. "Apologies, your Grace, if I don't right believe ye'." Jae just shook his head - one thing he had learned, such petty bullshit was not worth it.
Again he simply waited silently, hoping that Greywater Watch would appear after hours of monotony. Not that there was silence to match his. The swamp teemed with loud animal life. Ducks, herons, and even sea-bound pelicans congregated in the open water, skimming for food while other birds sang and chirped in the canopy. Frogs leaped into the water from roots while fish often broke the surface to chase insects and other small prey. The forest was alive.
Chirping, Vermithor eyed a duck with expectant hunger, crawling out of Jae's cloak and giving his bonded kepa a poignant expression. "No, boy," Jae murmured, digging out a tiny bit of dried pork for his dragon. Unhappy with such fare, the dragon nevertheless singed it and tore off a chunk. He didn't burn Jae's hand.
There was a splash in the water, something brown-grey and altogether not a log approaching their skiff. Vermithor shrieked at it, which caused the shape to lurch out of the water and snap a wide pair of jaws at them.
Jaehaerys flinched. "What is that?"
His guard laughed. "The famed lizard-lions of the Neck, glorious little fuckers." Another growl from the beast, which sounded like a guttural burp if anything. Vermithor hissed again, and spat a little ball of fire at it. The beast merely dove and reappeared several seconds later.
"Are they a threat?" Jae asked, if a little nervous.
"Nah, just annoyin'." He grabbed a spear. "Oi' fucker, git outta here!" Stabbing at it with the butt of his spear, the guard drove the hissing beast away - tail whipping about in the mud. "Don't tell me yer' afraid of that thin', given' the beast on yer' shoulder?"
Jae narrowed his eyes. "Forgive me that after surviving the siege of the Dragonpalace, I would rather not die by lizard-lion."
A snort and smirk. "They only eat the weak and babes. Clearly yer' not." He straightened himself as the pole-bearers pushed the skiff through the fog, something looming in the distance. "Ah, we're here." Jaehaerys craned his neck and squinted to see ahead.
The shape revealed itself as the fog faded away - Greywater Watch in all its glory. Jaehaerys had born witnesses to many great keeps. This one was both underwhelming and held its own sense of greatness at the same time. Largely because the central keep and four circular towers were floating on the swamp. The four towers, each with torches at the top, were barely higher than the main walls and joined by a single gatehouse led into the castle.
All in all, the entire keep could fit into the holdfast of the Dragonpalace. The whole structure looked as if a single catapult could knock it over, but Jaehaerys doubted anything but raiders in small boats would get anywhere close. Such was the genius of the keep, and that of Maegor for hiding his sister there.
Gods, he felt like shit, having thought such vile things about his uncle.
Several other floating man-made islands surrounded Greywater Watch, connected to the castle by wooden walkways and thick ropes or chains. Huts of fishermen or small plots of farmland dotted them, the smallfolk waving to the skiffs as they made their way to the dock. Well, less a dock and more a mooring post.
"How're we getting up?" Jae asked.
Tying the skiff in place, suddenly a rope ladder fell from a thick door above in the gatehouse, pikes visible - just in case, he supposed. With a grin, the guard motioned to the ladder. "Easy does it, lad. Easy does it." It took Jaehaerys three tries to grab the rope ladder as the skiff bobbed in the muddy water, but eventually gripped the rung in a strong grip and hauled himself up.
By the top rung, several hands helped in the endeavor and he was soon standing atop solid land again. Well, partially solid at least. "Your Grace." Jae found someone bowing to him. "I am Lord Asher Reed, and welcome to my home."
He nodded his head respectfully. "And I am honored for your hospitality…"
He was interrupted as a silver blur flashed above and dove for him. Or more accurately Vermithor. The dragon screeched and rose to meet the newcomer in an aerial dance of reconnecting.
Silverwing, which meant that…
Suddenly Jaehaerys was rocked as another blur of silver crashed into him. Only this one had two skinny arms and squeezed him so tight that he couldn't breathe. "Sister…" he managed to croak.
"You stupid idiot. You dumb fool." Alysanne's insults tumbled from her lips, but mixed with the flurry of kisses she showered his cheek and chin and brow to form rather mixed signals.
A year ago, such gooey affections would've made Jae recoil, but now he simply embraced his sister back. "Thank the gods you're fine," he breathed, thinking only she could hear.
Apparently not. "You cunt!" To Arya's credit, she didn't punch him in the mouth or nose. His shoulder hurt however. "How dare you make m… Aly worry like that!" Another punch came, but her father blocked it.
"Enough, Arya." While most badly hid their amusement at the scene, Lord Reed was a stern man. Faced with this, she pouted but obeyed. "My apologies, your Grace."
"No, it's fine." Alysanne had let go of the embrace but held his hand, close to his side. She had… transformed in her time here. The dress she wore clung to… gods, she had the hint of curves now, while her chest was starting to bud. As beautiful as their older sister, and it was driving Jae mad. "I've earned their anger."
"Damn straight," mumbled Arya, her eyes locked on him with an expression he was unable to identify.
Another glare quieting her, Asher Reed cleared his throat. "You must be hungry, my Prince. Allow me to escort you to our dining hall. We were about to take our dinner there."
"Good timing." Jaehaerys wrapped an arm about Aly's waist, missing her just as much as she did him. "I am also eager to bathe away the humidity."
A chuckle. "Forgive me, your Grace, but there is no chance of that."
Hours later as he dressed for bed in a simple sleep tunic, Jaehaerys realized just how right he was. While it was chilly enough to require quilts, the mugginess filled all of Greywater Watch. Only the chill made it anywhere bearable, slipping into the sheets.
He smiled at the memory of dinner and after. Alysanne had never left his side, the two taking about anything and everything. Privacy led to tears, as Aly kissed his eyepatch and cried over him. He cried too, the siblings needing the closeness Greywater Watch now provided them.
Only knowing how exhausted he was kept Aly in her own chambers that night. Jae sighed at it all and simply blew out the candle - eager to sleep.
Sleep hadn't claimed him when the door creaked open. "Aly?" He called out.
A candle in her hand, the intruder wasn't Aly. "Hello, Jaehaerys."
He sat up. "Arya?"
Arya smiled softly, a rare smile from her. "May I join you? Can't sleep."
"Umm…" Jae wished to respond but couldn't. When wearing her leather trousers and baggy shirt she looked the same, just older, but in a tight nightgown… Her figure was curvier than Aly's, chest more developed. Her hair was dark brown and in a bob, but it framed her face beautifully. She was pretty, and Jae noticed it for the first time. "Sure."
She sat on the bed, staring at his eye. "Does… does it hurt?"
A shrug. "Sometimes."
That made her breath hitch. "I'm sorry…" her eyes welled with tears. "You're so brave, Jae."
He tilted his head, confused. "Arya, what are…"
And as soon as he spoke, she lunged and hugged him close, crying just as Aly had. "Thank you… thank you for coming back." And in that moment she kissed him.
Eyes widening, this was no sweet kiss or something perfunctory. Chaste. No, this was passionate, the sort of kiss his uncle and sister gave each other. Arya's tongue plundering his mouth, Jae tasting her salty tears. It was… gods, it was glorious and he kissed back.
She murmured something into his lips he didn't catch. "What?"
"I love you…"
That he heard clearly. Pulling back to stare at her. "Arya…"
"I wanted… I wanted to tell you for so long, but then we were gone and I thought you would die…" She hugged him again. "I've always loved you, since I can last remember."
He was stunned. "You didn't seem like you even liked me."
"Couldn't know how to act round you." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry I sprung this so quickly…"
It was spontaneous on his part, but Jae simply grabbed her and flipped her over. Their lips reconnecting.
What happened later was simply instinctive.
Walking down the tight corridors of Greywater Watch - space was a luxury in this place for obvious reasons - Princess Alysanne couldn't help but feel a little nervous. The feel of the cold wood on her bare feet helped ground her in the present, but her mind still couldn't help but wander.
Sleep was unable to come to her tonight, and it was clear the reason. Her brother. Oh, when she had seen Jaehaerys after so long her heart soared. Never once did she spend a single moment away from his side that night. Eating together, laughing together, crying together… by the end they had put each other back in order, talking and spilling secrets. It was the calmest Alysanne had been since this whole mess started.
But why did she wait under the heavy quilts in her bed, unable to drift off to sleep.
Hours of this brought her to the maddening conclusion, shocking for one so young yet also… seeming like destiny. Alysanne, as her grandparents before her, had fallen for her brother.
Such was why the current state of affairs made her blush just thinking of it. Outwardly she looked modest, hair styled in a simple northern braid and woolen cloak about her shoulders. Underneath though… was a thin nightgown. Certainly not one she'd seen the willowy Tyanna once wear to entice her elder sister, barely able to be held up let alone cover anything, but one Arya had once remarked emphasized her maturing body.
Alysanne paused in the middle of the corridor, the blush deepening. These feelings were all new to her. A hallmark of her coming of age and moonblood. The ways of the flesh were upon her, and only the idea that Jaehaerys was equally as inexperienced kept her calm.
They would discover the sensual arts together. A smile filled her face at the thought of it. And so Alysanne took a deep breath and continued towards Jae's chambers. Still nervous but with a giddiness that carried her forward.
Slinking slowly through the halls, she finally reached the door. Behind it would be her brother - her foolish, arrogant, but also kind and gentle and brave brother. A smart man that only needed maturity. War had given it to him, and while Alysanne's heart broke every time she saw his eyepatch she knew that he was a better man now. One that made her quiver with new feelings.
Alysanne took a steadying breath, raising her knuckles to rap on the door. This was the moment. Her heart thumped from apprehension, but she was excited. Putting a glittering smile on her face, she moved to knock…
"Hold on… just a moment, love."
She froze. Jae isn't alone.
"Just slip it in, Jae."
Her jaw dropped. She recognized the voice immediately as Arya… her closest companion, Arya. What was she doing in… 'Just slip it in…' Her cheeks suddenly burned. Were they…
"I'm trying. Your cunt is too tight…"
"Men like that."
"I know, it's just…" He suddenly gasped, while Alysanne heard Arya moan. "Oh gods…"
"Fuck. Jae." Arya sounded completely different. Dreamy, almost a feline purr. "How do you… feel this good, my Prince? My love?"
Shutting her eyes, Alysanne fled the muffled noises of awkward passion. Arya loved Jae? She didn't tell Aly, only for the Princess to find out while the two of them were in the throes of love. A snarl formed on her lips. How dare she? How dare she steal her brother and entice him to…
Her cheeks burned again, but for a different reason. One that made her scramble back to her chambers in confusion… and intrigue.
"I can surmise that in spite of the eager welcome I was given, your colleagues do not desire my presence."
Her companion raised her brow. "What makes you think that, your Grace?"
"Do not assume I am ignorant, Lady Vhassar," Dowager Queen Visenya stated flatly, her eyes narrowed. "I was wheeling and dealing with Kings and Lords while you were in your swaddling clothes."
"And slaying them," chuckled Trianna Vhassar, Triarch of Volantis. "Believe me, no one is more in awe of your reputation as I… As are the rest of my colleagues and highborn class - both of the city itself and of the Three Daughters most recently integrated into our protection."
'Protection.' Lys, Myr, Tyrosh. At best they were annexed dependencies, at worst completely subjected to Volentine power, the latter no longer restrained and at the highest position they were since the middle of the Century of Blood. And honestly more secure, with their rival powerbases focused elsewhere. In this case Westeros, and in this case focused on tearing itself apart.
That was why Visenya was here. "So you do not deny the hostility against me from Triarch Maegyr and his allies?"
Trianna waved her hand. "Pish, Catoyn is naturally paranoid. Given you are a dragonrider, that makes him… naturally suspicious of your motives. The presence of the legendary Vhagar in the region of the city has led many to join him in that regard."
It had been over two weeks since Visenya had touched down in Volantis, securing herself a guest manse on the Vhassar estate as well as connecting with the pro-Targaryen merchant contingent within the city - Victor Velaryon, her late cousin's grandson and nephew of her gooddaughter Alyssa, led them, and he hovered somewhere in the background as she and Trianna took a stroll through the surprisingly lush and well maintained gardens of the guest manse. "Catoyn is still the lead Triarch, and not only does the other follow him without question but also the nobility of the Three Daughters."
"You refer to the Rogare Bank."
"They are the most powerful of the Lysene contribution to your new dominion, don't you think?"
Stopping in front of an orange tree, Trianna pursed her lips and nodded. "You are not wrong, your Grace." She reached up and picked one of the oranges. "Want one?"
Shrugging, Visenya accepted it and started peeling the fruit. It did taste tart and delicious. "Have any from Oldtown or Sunspear approached your court, Lady Vhassar?"
"Oldtown? No." She shook her head. "I don't think they anticipate anything beyond immediate victory, though the religious zealots within the Most Devout would oppose any extension of alliance to those outside of their Faith." Visenya snorted, fully in agreement. "However Dorne has, through intermediaries from their Prince."
"Please, Prince Mors is not the real ruler of Dorne. That distinction rests with Malcolm Wyl alone." She spat out the man's name.
"Ah, the one who took your half-brother's hand." Vhassar was nothing if not smart - and beautiful, which made a dangerous combination. Visenya had both of those in her younger years, as did Rhaenys. She was intimately familiar. "He offers lucrative trading rights in exchange for a benevolent neutrality, and for an actual alliance he offers undisputed control of the Stepstones."
That… was dangerous. "Lord Catoyn suggesting he may accept?" Visenya hoped she had buried her worry beneath a proper facade.
"He's considering it, though the Lysenes are more the ones pushing for the control of the Stepstones." Trianna licked some of the juice off her fingers. Certainly would've charmed and seduced any man that came her way. Visenya, however, was made of sterner stuff - the only woman she ever loved had died long ago. "I, though, think our influence extends only to the Continent of Essos, not anywhere near your dominion."
"Is that the position of the entire Elephant faction?"
"My position is that of the Elephant faction - but the Tigers control our armies."
"That is something I hope we can change, for an alliance between us would be beneficial." Such an alliance would not be cheap, but given their situation the Targaryens couldn't be choosy. They did not have the strength to drive a hard bargain. "Perhaps… are there any forces your faction could loan to us? Those would be greatly appreciated once the Elephants return to power."
Trianna smiled. "Our naval forces and those of Myr and Tyrosh could easily be… set upon by Dornish pirates and require a retaliatory strike to recompense. As for any sort of land forces they'd have to be sellswords… but the question is only if they'd sign any sort of deal with you."
"Why is that an issue? We have gold."
"Yes… but they are Northmen."
Visenya laughed. "The Northmen are loyal to us, especially after the Faith butchered my goodson."
"These are those that fled Westeros because Torrhen Stark knelt and gave up his crown."
Seven hells, this would be tougher than Visenya thought. Not for the first time did she wish Rhaenys had survived.
"Fuck… fuck… fuck… ahhh…" Ceryse was glad Morgen's face was buried in her neck as he rutted and released inside her. While the feel of her breath on his neck and ear disgusted her, at least she could close her eyes and not see his face.
It was better that way.
Finally though he rolled off her. "That was wonderful."
"Yes, it was," she lied. Gulping, Ceryse willed down her fear. Ever so nonchalantly swinging her bare legs out of bed. "Would you like some tea, brother?"
A snort. "Sure, suppose so. Lest you have wine?"
She rose, exposing her naked rear to his lecherous gaze. It made her skin crawl. "I do." Her voice was as soft as she could make it. "But isn't it better that you don't get tipsy before the feast tonight with the High Septon? You will be on duty as his honor guard, no?"
Morgen shrugged. "I guess that's the case." He laughed, reaching over the bed to pinch her arse and making her yip. "You're so caring, sweet sister. It's why I love you. That monstrous dragon spawn wouldn't act in any manner like that."
He's twice the man that you'd ever be. She wouldn't say that, instead grabbing the plainest dress she could and donning it. It exposed her shoulders and calves, and plenty of cleavage. Enough to distract him from why she was dressing herself.
While he rested atop the bed with his hands folded behind his head, grotesquely naked, Ceryse placed the kettle of water atop the smoldering brazier. Soon the liquid inside was bubbling. A searing heat, enough to put the teabag in - which she did. "Sister?"
"Yes brother." She hid the venom in her voice. Now was not the time.
"I know you've been taking moon tea."
"Oh?" Her heart started pounding in her chest.
But Morgen calmed her. "Don't worry, I'm glad you have." Her tension dissipated slightly, stirring the teapot. "Now would be madness for you to have children."
"Do you want children?"
"With you? Absolutely." Ceryse wanted to vomit - not for the incest, but imagining being seeded by her rapist. "It would be a bastard and I couldn't claim to be the father of course, but our father would get a solid legitimacy out of the High Septon for sure." Morgen sounded so enamored of the fact.
Enough so that Ceryse snuck the set of keys from his trouser pockets and placed it in the folds of her dress without his noticing. "While that sounds… lovely, I've had four miscarriages." Induced abortions, rather. Poisoned by someone, the most likely culprit being the forces of the Faith. "Can I have children?"
"I wouldn't be worried about that." Her eyes widened. "I think it was Maegor's issue. Centuries of inbreeding would result in a man deprived of virility."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, you are very fertile. I guarantee it."
Steeling herself, she picked up the pot by the handle and turned to face the still nude Morgen. "Why do you know that, brother?" His nonchalance about her supposed infertility, it raised her suspicions. On some respect she knew, but wanted him to confirm it. "Did father poison me during all my pregnancies?"
Mayhaps he was still sex drunk. Mayhaps he was proud of it. Morgen laughed. "Father arranged it, so you would never be sullied with a dragonspawn child. All was worth it, don't you think?"
She took a deep breath. "Aye, aye we do." Clenching her teeth, she expected a scream, or a roar. But instead with complete silence and strength of purpose Ceryse Targaryen hurled the pot of boiling water at her naked brother.
Morgen didn't have any cumpunction against screaming his head off. "Ahhhhh!" Thrashing about, the water hit him on his upper chest and abdomen, some searing his naked crotch. That was particularly satisfying. He screamed, already breaking out in boils as his skin simmered.
"You bastard!" Ceryse swung her pot, aiming for his head. It struck, knocking him out. The monster fell to the ground and she kicked him. Over and over. "You'll live for now, rapist, but I will come back with my husband and burn this entire place to the ground like Harrenhal - with you in it." With one last kick, she left him knocked out and burned where he laid.
It was all a blur after that. How she raced out of the chambers with naught but her dress and the keys. How she locked the door to her chambers behind her, then sneaking through the servants' quarters until she reached the stairs to the private docks. There waited the skiff hired by her aunt, piloted by a sellsail from Myr.
When she looked back on her childhood home, Ceryse felt nothing. Her home was in the north, in King's Landing.
It was time she finally realized it.