The Crownlands ― Rook's Rest…

With her father and House Hightower's guardsmen as her escorts, Alicent arrived at Rook's Rest and insisted on being immediately taken into the castle. Upon hearing about the recent battle that had taken place, one that had pitted her remaining children against the might of Sunfyre and Vhagar, the queen was consumed with fear and anxiety for their safety. Jaehaerys, Aegon, Viserys, and Aemma were now the only children she had left. After Daeron's death at Aemond's hands, Alicent had been plagued by constant worry, fearing that something dreadful would befall her remaining offspring. Her appearance reflected her inner turmoil, with her hair hastily pulled together and her once magnificent royal green dress showing signs of wear and tear. Alicent's hands trembled uncontrollably, and she struggled to resist the urge to pick at her cuticles, resorting to tightly gripping her wrists in an attempt to regain control. The constant worry and fear had taken a toll on her, and it was evident in her demeanor.

"We have all perused the reports. Although I do not condone the actions of the princes and princess in deviating to Rook's Rest without informing the crown, their unwavering dedication and profound loyalty to each other is to be admired," Otto commented. Despite the risks involved, they've shown that they cannot only repel an invasion but also effectively cooperate to defeat Vhagar. Rather impressive from ones so young.

Despite her father's words, Alicent paid no heed to Otto. Her primary concern was the safety and welfare of her children. As she stepped into the castle, the queen's gaze meticulously surveyed each corridor and chamber, desperately hoping for their safety. Anxious thoughts consumed her as she silently pleaded, Please be all right. "Excuse me," she pulled a servant aside, "have you seen my sons? My daughter? Are they all right?" she asked. Her maternal instincts fueled her quest for answers, and she would not rest until she knew her children were out of harm's way.

"Y-Your Grace!" the maid curtsied, her voice filled with respect. "Yes, they should all be in their rooms. In fact, Lord Corlys is―"

"Oh! Thank you so much!" Alicent breathed a sigh of relief as she received the news that her children were safe. She didn't waste any time and rushed to the guest rooms to see them for herself. Upon arriving at the rooms, she found Jaehaerys, Aegon, Viserys, and Aemma in the company of Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake. From the looks of it, Corlys had reached them before anyone else, as they were all gathered near Rhaenys's room. Alicent couldn't help but notice the mixture of emotions written on his face - a blend of anxiety, concern, relief, and gratitude.

"She lives?" Corlys' tired gaze shifted between the faces of those gathered before him, searching for some sign of hope or reassurance. His once-vibrant countenance was now etched with lines of weariness and sorrow as if he had been forced to endure one tragedy after another. The sixty-five-year-old Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark had already weathered many storms, but the thought of potentially suffering another personal loss seemed to be taking its toll on him. Corlys had already lost his daughter Laena, his son Laenor, and his brother Vaemond. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his wife, too. He wondered how much more he could take before it broke him completely.

"Yes, my lord. Princess Rhaenys will be all right," Viserys answered.

"Her injuries were bad, but…" Aegon pondered, his fingers gently caressing his chin as he searched for the right words to convey the severity of Rhaenys's injuries to Corlys. After all, this man was their father's longtime ally for years. "I can't help but wish we had been able to do more, though. Her injuries were undeniably severe."

Aemma, however, interjected with a humble perspective, countering her brother-husband's sentiment. "No, Aegon, we all did what we could to ensure her survival," she promptly added. "My lord," she addressed Corlys, "it would be most beneficial if you could be by her during her recovery. Without Meleys, Princess Rhaenys will require all the support she can receive." Aegon's concerns were understandable, but Aemma's humility reminded them that they were all in this together.

Corlys, overwhelmed with a blend of anxiety and solace upon finding out that his wife Rhaenys was still alive, felt as if he were obligated to offer a reward to the young Targaryen royals. "Of course. However, I must inquire: you must want something in return. Gold? Ships? A land of your own? Name it, and it shall be yours. I'll ensure it happens," he proposed.

Jaehaerys, however, shook his head. "No, Lord Corlys," he said, reassuringly placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid we cannot accept your offer. It would be as if we were taking advantage of you. Family is of utmost importance to us, and we cannot compromise that. We can only ask that you support your lady wife during this difficult time." With a gentle push, he opened the door to Rhaenys's room, the hinges emitting a quiet creak. "Go on, my lord. Take as much time as you need. We'll be here."

Corlys couldn't take his eyes off them. Not only did they save his wife from the clutches of Sunfyre and Vhagar during the Battle of Rook's Rest, but what struck Corlys, even more was their refusal to accept any form of reward in return. As he placed a comforting hand on the crown prince's shoulder, the Sea Snake remained silent, his head nodding in acknowledgment of their selfless choice. For a fleeting moment, Corlys felt as though he was looking at a younger version of Aeonar Targaryen and Alicent Hightower in these four young royals standing before them, how their parents used to be when they were their age. It was as if time had reversed, and he was witnessing the past in the present. Finally, Corlys turned to leave, taking one last look at the four royals before entering his wife's room and closing the door behind him.

Alicent attentively watched over her children, who displayed unwavering. They had grown into independent and capable young adults yet still looked out for each other. As she looked at them, she couldn't help but notice the faint but still discernible marks of scars, scratches, and bandages on their bodies. They were the scars of battles fought and won. However, despite these faint injuries that were still healing, she found solace in the fact that her children were safe. Alicent lifted the edge of her gown and began walking towards them. At first, she moved slowly, savoring the moment and taking in the sight of her children. But as she drew closer, her pace quickened, and soon she was practically running towards them. Her gown swayed with her movements, mirroring the excitement. Her lower lip trembled, a physical manifestation of the emotions that overwhelmed her. It was a trembling of excitement, love, and deep longing to be reunited with her children. "Jaehaerys! Aegon! Viserys! Aemma!" she called out.

It wasn't long before all four of them noticed her.

"Mother?!" Aegon exclaimed with surprise.

"Mother!" Viserys said aloud.

"Mother!" Aemma spoke with affection.

"Mother," Jaehaerys acknowledged.

As Alicent finally approached her children, her arms wrapped in a warm embrace, drawing them close, holding them tightly as if never wanting to let go. In that tender moment, they reciprocated the hug with equal intensity, forming a tight-knit family unit bound by their profound love for one another. Oh, my babies! My babies! Oh, thank the Mother! The queen's heart ached with longing for their presence, and they missed their mother, too. Overwhelmed with joy, Alicent's tears spilled down her cheeks as she beheld them once again. The happiness of their reunion overwhelmed her, and she couldn't help but express her emotions through her actions. Among her children, Aemma seemed to be the most overwhelmed with emotion. She clung to her mother, afraid she might vanish into thin air as if trying to make up for their time apart. Alicent, meticulous by nature, carefully inspected her children. "Are you all right? Are you― by the gods, oh, Aemma! What happened?!" her eyes fixated on the bandages that concealed the carefully stitched-up scar on her daughter's brow.

"I-I'm fine, mother. It's just a scratch," Aemma struggled to find her words, her voice trembling, trying to ease her mother's worries. She didn't want to add more concerns to the queen's troubled heart.

"And Jay, what of this?" Alicent anxiously inquired, redirecting her eyes to her eldest son, "How bad is it? Let me―"

"I'll be fine, mother," Jaehaerys replied, tenderly clasping his mother's hands within his own and caressing her knuckles affectionately with his thumbs. His voice carried reassurance as he spoke. "But mother, although the battle has been won, it's still far too dangerous for a queen to be out on the frontlines."

"E-ehh? B-but I…"

Jaehaerys could see the worry etched on his mother's face, and he knew he had to be the rock she could lean on. He placed a hand on Alicent's cheek to caress her. "Mother, I understand your concerns and your affection for us. I am grateful for everything you have done. However…" the crown prince glanced back at Aegon, Viserys, and Aemma. Then, his gaze shifted to Rhaenyra, Jace, and Luke. "There are many others who care and worry about you just as much, too."

Alicent's cheeks were still wet with tears as she gazed at her children, who stood by her side with unwavering support—among her supporters also included her sister-in-law Princess Rhaenyra and her nephews Jacaerys and Lucerys. Since she became queen consort, Alicent had always strived to emulate the Good Queen Alysanne Targaryen, who had been so well-loved throughout the Old King's reign. However, Alicent, at that moment, understood that she not only had to protect her family but must also allow them to flourish and grow independently. Over the years, Alicent had done everything she could to raise and nurture her children, just as her mother, Lady Evelyne, had done for her and her brothers. Her son Jaehaerys had grown into a wise and capable leader, just as she had hoped. Even in the most challenging times, her other sons, Aegon and Viserys, had become model princes. And her daughter Aemma had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, full of grace, elegance, and intelligence. As Alicent looked at her children and saw how they supported each other, she felt a sense of completeness. For twenty years, she had done everything she could to raise her family, and now she could see the fruits of her labor.

While surrounded by her mother's handmaidens, Aemma caught sight of her daughter being carried by Dyana. "Hi, sweetie. Hi, Saena. Oh, my baby," she cooed, her voice filled with tenderness and affection. Overwhelmed with joy, she immediately reached out to scoop Saena into her loving embrace. Aemma's heart would shatter whenever she was away from her baby girl. The bond between mother and daughter was unbreakable, and Aemma couldn't bear the thought of being separated from her little one.

Otto quietly observed his daughter and grandchildren bonding during their familial reunion. He refrained from speaking for a while, as his primary focus was on Jaehaerys' accomplishments for his role in defeating Aemond and Vhagar. However, Otto realized that his silence could be misconstrued as undermining the crown's authority. As such, he remained quiet to preserve the crown's interests and protect his daughter. Amidst the joyful celebrations, though, Otto swore he caught a fleeting glimpse of his late grandson, Prince Daeron Targaryen. Despite knowing Daeron was no longer alive, Otto began questioning his sanity. The apparition of Daeron swiftly passed by him before disappearing with his characteristic grin. Is this your way of checking in on them, Daeron? Is that what the afterlife is?

"*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOHH!*"

The sudden sound of a dragon's roar startled everyone in the vicinity. The noise was deafening, resonating deep within their bones. It was unmistakable, and they all knew who it belonged to once the dragon's shadow engulfed Rook's Rest. As the dragon landed with a thunderous crash, the ground trembling beneath their feet, Aegon and Aemma braced themselves for what was to come.

Aegon's eyes widened in fear as he realized the dragon's identity. "It's him," he stuttered, his voice trembling.

Aemma, too, recognized the dragon's roar and held her baby tightly as the ground shook beneath her feet. "Father," she whispered, her heart racing.

On cue, a group of Lykirī Mēre agents entered the castle, their arrival perfectly timed to create a clear path as they confidently marched forward. Dressed in white robes, their attire was adorned with ancient High Valyrian runic symbols intricately engraved into the fabric. The sight of these symbols added an air of mystique and ancient power to their appearance. Equipped with bo staffs and concealed blades, the agents carried themselves with a formidable presence, emanating an intimidating aura. Their weapons and martial prowess were a stark reminder of the immense power once held by the Valyrian Freehold before the Doom. Before the Faceless Men, the Lykirī Mēre were renowned as highly skilled assassins. They had dedicated themselves to mastering the ancient martial arts, the use of poisons, espionage, infiltration, and the art of killing. Their expertise in these deadly arts was unmatched, making them a force to be reckoned with. However, their loyalty was not divided among various factions or causes. The Lykirī Mēre remained fiercely devoted solely to their Grandmaster, with no allegiance to any other entity. This unwavering loyalty only added to their enigmatic reputation, as they were seen as a secretive and exclusive group operating in the shadows to carry out their missions.

Jaehaerys stood there, patiently waiting for the Kingsguard knights to enter. Steffon, Lorent, Rickard, and Willis were familiar to him, but the other three were unknown. Even though the Kingsguard had returned to a full contingent of seven, the crown prince could not recognize the other three knights. He wondered who they were and what their stories might be. Were they seasoned warriors or newly appointed to the prestigious order?

"My, my. Imagine how surprised I was to learn my children went behind my back and left without saying so much as a word," Aeonar spoke in a dark tone upon his arrival, his facial features expressing disapproval. He was clad in the imposing Lykirī Mēre black Grandmaster's robes, adorned with House Targaryen's sigil of the three red-headed dragon stitched onto his chest. His steel-plated draconic armor protected his shoulders, legs, and arms, while his gauntlets boasted razor-steel tips on the fingers. A traditional Westerosi longsword hung from his left hip, while Blackfyre, a symbol of power, rested on his right. And atop his head, he wore the crown of Aegon the Conqueror, exuding his authority.

"Y-Your Grace," Aemma politely addressed her father, taking a step forward.

"Especially since I'm fairly sure I made it abundantly clear that neither of you were to engage in such recklessness."

"Father," Jaehaerys intervened, "should you not at least feel grateful that we are alive for you to scold first?"

Aeonar cast a quick glance towards his eldest son and heir. It had been months since he had succumbed to the Targaryen madness, and with each passing day, the blood-red circles in his eyes grew darker, almost as if a demonic force possessed him. The Dance of the Dragons had brought nothing but war and devastation to the land, and the people had begun to fear the Young Dragon's vengeful wrath, whether his actions were justified or not. Yet Aeonar couldn't help but wonder if his son's boldness in calling him out resulted from his own convictions or if he had some ulterior motive up his sleeve. "Huh… Jaehaerys. I see that time on the battlefield had caused you to develop enough spine to challenge me now and again," he remarked. "Mmm… and what of you, Lord Staunton? Anything you'd care to contribute?"

Lord Staunton lowered his head, often avoiding the Young Dragon's gaze. "Yes, Your Grace," he acknowledged. "Your Grace… no, my king, your sons and daughter are one in a million. I'd almost given up hope that anyone had heard our pleas for help. I would've invited them to serve in my garrison if they were anyone else. But they are of royal blood and full-fledged dragonriders. It would be foolish to refuse their help."

"Hmph. High praise, indeed." Aeonar returned his attention to his children. "So tell me, son. How do you intend to punish the prisoners… now that Meleys is gone?"

"They no longer have the strength nor the resources to pose any significant threat, father," Jaehaerys stated. "The decisive blow came with the Caltrops' sudden abandonment, which shattered their last ounce of hope. As such, they surrendered without resistance. In exchange for renewing their oaths to the crown, I offered them a place within our ranks, directly under my direct supervision."

"Oh? But their lives not taken? I would have put them all to the sword for such treason, and their families as well."

"Father…!" Aemma looked shocked.

"Th-That's going too far," Alicent was appalled.

"Your Grace," Otto spoke, leaning in to whisper into his son-in-law's ear, "when your enemies defy you, you must serve them steel and fire. When they go to their knees, however, you must help them back to their feet. Elsewise, no man will ever bend the knee to you."

« The Valyrian Freehold had its time… but their arrogance and misuse of power led to their downfall. They were masters of the world… but could not rule their excesses. They dabbled with powers that they did not fully comprehend… and it destroyed them. As much as we cherish our heritage, we shouldn't try to emulate our forebears… or risk repeating their mistakes. House Targaryen took a long time to recover after the Doom, and we've come a long way since then. It's best not to push our luck… and stick with what's working. »

Jaehaerys paused, allowing himself a brief respite as he closed his eyes and contemplated the profound advice his deceased paternal grandfather, King Viserys, imparted. At that moment, he couldn't help but yearn for his grandfather's presence, longing for his guidance and counsel. Alas, he was acutely aware that such a wish was futile, for the late king's wisdom could only be cherished in memory. He knew that the future of the House of the Dragon hinged upon the lessons of the past. If these lessons were disregarded, the consequences would be dire. History would inevitably repeat itself, and House Targaryen would be condemned to relive the mistakes of their predecessors. "Father," he spoke again, "the weight of being king is a daunting task. I understand that. It's a burden few can imagine. Sometimes, we have to deal with hard choices that may lead to regret one day. But always remember your first duty as a king is to the people. Nations are not just lines on maps or cities of stone and gold but are comprised of the people who inhabit them. Because without them, we have no right to rule."

"And who told you that?" Aeonar asked.

"Our grandfather, King Viserys… the Peaceful." Please, father. For the sake of grandfather's memory, don't destroy what he strived so hard to make for you. Mother believes there's still good in you somewhere; let go of your hate.

Aeonar found himself in a state of confusion as he listened to his son's words. The aspect that genuinely bewildered him was that Alicent, Aegon, Viserys, and Aemma aligned themselves with Jaehaerys, as were Rhaenyra, Jace, and Luke. This unexpected shift left Aeonar questioning what he might have missed, what crucial information the Young Dragon was presumably overlooking. As Aeonar observed the group before him, he was suddenly confronted by the apparitions of his deceased parents, King Viserys and Queen Aemma. The ghostly figure of his father hung his head in sorrow, clearly disappointed in the path his eldest son had taken. On the other hand, the spirit of his mother displayed a sad, heartbroken expression on her face. Why? Why must you… HAUNT ME?! Shaking his head, Aeonar snapped back to the present. "Do as you please, then." Before turning around, he issued a proclamation. "It would seem that House Targaryen… has a new champion in its Silver Dragon."

Jaehaerys blinked as he processed the words that had just been spoken. A decree? 'The Silver Dragon…' the new moniker continued to echo in his thoughts, leaving him to wonder if this would become a label that would follow him for the rest of his life. And why make him House Targaryen's champion? Usually, it would be reserved for their family's finest swordsmen. But why did Aeonar choose him? Thinking on it, Jaehaerys suspected it was done out of spite for Daemon interfering with his father's earlier plot to assassinate Beatrice and Aemond, only for it to end in failure. But before he could leave, Jaehaerys spoke out again. "Father, wait," he said.

Aeonar stopped mid-step.

"I don't see Ser Harrold with you. Is he all right?"

"You hadn't heard?" Aeonar glanced over his shoulder. "Ser Harrold Westerling passed away in his sleep, much like his predecessor Ser Ryam Redwyne before him. Ser Steffon Darklyn… is the new Lord Commander now." And with that, he walked away.

Upon hearing the news about Ser Harrold, Jaehaerys, Aegon, Viserys, and Aemma were visibly stunned. The sudden revelation left them feeling like the wind had been knocked out of them and the rug pulled out from underneath their feet. Their minds were filled with questions, wondering what could have possibly happened to him. Was he sick? Ser Harrold had been a faithful knight of the Kingsguard for over 40 years, making him one of the order's longest-serving knights. In his prime, he had been a highly skilled knight with a successful military background. Throughout the years, he had not only fulfilled his duties as a knight but had also taken on the roles of a mentor, friend, and confidant to the Targaryen children. To Jaehaerys, he had been a protector during Beatrice's coup attempt in King's Landing, which had occurred not long after his grandfather's death.

But now that he was gone, Jaehaerys felt his world falling apart once more as his mother began to comfort her sons.

What's worse…

…was he didn't even get to say goodbye.

Starpike ― Main hall…

Beatrice's cheek bore the unmistakable mark of a crimson handprint, a painful reminder of yet another forceful slap. The Dowager Queen remained silent, her silence speaking volumes as her father, Lord Unwin Peake, once again exerted his dominance over the Caltrops. Despite no longer holding the position of their Hand, Unwin's political sway over them remained unyielding. When word of the events that unfolded at Rook's Rest reached Starpike, even Unwin himself was taken aback, though not entirely surprised.

Beatrice was startled by the distant sounds of moaning and screaming that reached her ears. The servants were struggling to carry in the charred remains of Aegon the Elder, his body bearing the marks of the fierce battle that took place at Rook's Rest. Before their retreat, some of the Caltrops, acting swiftly, managed to retrieve his body just in time before Vermithor could deliver a fatal blow, much like he had done to Sunfyre. Prompted by the situation's urgency, the Caltrops had to act quickly to save Aegon's life. Despite their efforts, Aegon's injuries were severe, with burns covering half of his body, a broken hip, and numerous fractured ribs. The intense heat of Vermithor's flames had caused his armor to meld into his left arm, further complicating his condition. It was estimated that it would take him a whole year to fully recover, during which his mind would be clouded by the effects of the milk of the poppy, causing him to sleep for nine out of every ten hours.

Meanwhile, Unwin loomed above his grandson, Prince Aemond, observing the castle's skilled healers meticulously sewed his wounds together. It became evident that Aemond had endured the painful consequence of a few fractured ribs from the fall, accompanied by a minor concussion. Despite the inevitable recovery period ahead, Aemond's spirit remained unyielding, for he was determined not to be entirely out of the fight for long. "Explain," he commanded.

Aemond grunted in pain as the sewing needles pierced his skin. "You've read the reports. I killed Meleys, but the opposition proved much more formidable than expected," he grunted again.

"If anyone's responsible for the loss at Rook's Rest, it lies at the feet of the Two Betrayers. Hugh Hammer and Ulf White's treachery was unexpected but not surprising. I'm surprised you let Jaehaerys get the better of you, Aemond."

Aemond snarled. "It won't happen again," he vowed.

"Hmm. We'll see." Unwin, meanwhile, diligently oversaw a detailed map of Westeros, carefully plotting the movements and strategies of the various factions involved. The Caltrops had successfully eliminated Meleys, but the Blacks managed to slay Sunfyre and force Vhagar into a hasty retreat. He suspected it wouldn't be long before Aeonar organized a mass counter-offensive against them. Jaehaerys Targaryen is proving more formidable than I thought. His brothers Aegon and Viserys, too, as is Princess Aemma. Together, they're very effective. But now they know of Aemond's plans to split them up, we'll have to devise a new plan. Moving pieces on the map, Unwin's eyes traced across the Narrow Sea.

A return letter from the Triarchy remnants would be received in no less than six weeks.

All he needed…

…was for the Triarchy to stall the Blacks for time…

…long enough for the Caltrops to reorganize.

Chapter End

Author's Note: Another chapter involving the aftermath of the Battle of Rook's Rest, this time we get to see Alicent Hightower making a scene. With her children still alive, you can no doubt tell she's emotionally relieved to see them. Aeonar, however, was rather direct, but they were all legally young adults capable of making their own decisions, especially with Jaehaerys standing up to his father now and then. But what was unexpected was the sudden death of Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. I think it was especially cruel for Aeonar to tell his kids that. As for the Caltrops, somehow they managed to retrieve Aegon the Elder's body before he could be incinerated by Vermithor. As Aemond is undergoing surgery, it's revealed Unwin Peake reached out to the Triarchy remnants to stall the Blacks for time so they could recover. What do you think will happen next? Find out next time.

IrishHermit2: Aegon the Elder is alive but just barely. His dragon is dead, and it looks like he'll be out of commission for a while. However, if and when he recovers, will he still be of any use to the Caltrops?

―No, after losing Sunfyre, Aegon the Elder is more likely to go insane.

Jae and his siblings saved the Princess Rhaenys' life. Corlys offered them anything they wanted as a reward. They turned it down. If saving his wife's life didn't do it, then them refusing his offer all but sealed his loyalty to Jae and the crown. Not to mention Baela and Rhaena's loyalty as well.

I don't believe Aeonar is truly lost in his madness. He has had one bad situation piled right on top of the other. The loss of Daeron just pushed him over the edge. If he was indeed truly engulfed in this insanity, I don't believe he would have travelled all the way to Rook's Rest just to make sure his remaining children were all right. Aeonar is still in there. He's just lost. It will take Alicent and his children to bring him out of it.

Will Rhaenyra's sons be as involved in this battle for the throne as their cousins? Since Daeron took Lucerys's death, does that mean that he will die another way? And will Jacaerys be going to Winterfell, to treat with Lord Cregan Stark?

―Yes, they will. Can't spoil anything yet. And Jacaerys already went to Winterfell to treat with Cregan Stark.

randomdude24: Well, interesting developments, the Battle of Rooks Rest is a success for the Blacks, all of Aeonar and Alicent children have been given high praise for their actions, until Aeonar showed up. He's pretty direct in what his children did, scolds them for it, but in his own way praises them for it. Aeonar is definitely still dealing with the madness. I'm not sure if he'll ever come back, getting very strong Darth Vader vibes, Aeonar love and loss for his family sent him down this path, I wonder if that same love could save him before the end.

Ser Harrold Westerling is dead, which I can't say is a huge surprise. He was old, no matter what age. Father time is not something anyone can escape, with his death comes new Kingsguard replacements.

While Aegon did survive, he suffered a great amount of injuries and won't be of use to anyone, not that he had much use anyways. Aemond is bitter over his loss against Jay, seems next time they meet Aemond will do anything to kill him. Unwin is betting on the Triarchy which means the next major battle is the gullet.

Questions,

Can you reveal the new members of Aeonar's Kingsguard?

―Harrold Darke, Glendon Goode, and Adrian Redfort

How strong is the Triarchy? They suffered tremendous loss against Aeonar the first time.

―They've spent the past few years quietly trying to rebuild their strength - at the Gullet, you'll see the last vestiges of the Triarchy's remaining strength

How many battles/events have occurred in your Dance of Dragons up to this point?

―We've done 7 so far, 15 more to go