The Tartered Dragon - Aegon, Son of Baelon

by mootjeman7

An man from our world is reborn in the world of ASOIAF and decides to make the best out of it through adventure yet it never is that easy, even for a third prince. OC-SI - Overlaps with HOTD.

12. Chapter 11

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next two chapters after this chapter are available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117

The NEW discord channel LINK is d^i^s^c^o^r^d^.^g^g^/6^x^8^m^K^V^w^X^

---

108 AC – Corinth, Summer Isles

Edywn POV

Edwyn stood at the periphery of the courtyard, some distance away from the other alchemists and further still than the guards who watched on concernedly, electing to simply and silently watch on this hallowed eve.

It had been some time since the Prince had made another attempt, at least as far as he knew, though this time the Prince seemed optimistic enough at his chances.

He spared a glance at the darkening evening sky that bore only the evening light of that ill-competed with the bright and flickering orange and red which illuminated the deathly silent courtyard, dancing as they were in spellbound rhythm forced onto the flames by the gusts of evening air.

He turned back towards the centre of the courtyard when the flames grew in size, briefly casting enough light that once could forget that it was sunset and not day, and watched on as the alchemist Fororlan walked over with a lit torch that burned a familiar deep shade of blue to Prince Aegon who'd stood by a large slab of rock set upon a well crafted dais.

Prince Aegon began to raise his wide arms moments after Fororlan came to stop beside him and the torches that hung at the edges of the courtyard dimmed in their light whilst the blue flames of the torch burned with greater intensity, so much so that it was getting difficult to gaze directly upon the blue flame that almost seemed as if it was burning brightly white.

Edwyn heard the noise the blue-white flame was making, a sound that sounded awfully like the sound of hung wet cloth shaking violently amidst violent winds though there was a whine to it, a whine like the whines of two links of thick steel that were on the verge of shattering apart as they were pulled apart with great force.

Prince Aegon twisted his arms and the flame flickered and twisted in response, spellbound to the Prince's will almost like how the reeds of marshlands were spellbound to the howls of nature, and Prince Aegon directed the flames towards the slab of stone, the sounds of flames and whining steel and shaking cloth combining into an awful cacophony that pained the ears and further still unsettled his soul.

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly much like how the flames that were constantly pulled from the torch seemed to last endlessly until finally, the light of the torches of the courtyard returned back to normal and the blue-white flames died out, leaving behind a brightly glowing slab of stone that had melted and pooled slightly at the edges giving it a misshapen form that looked to have fused with the dais.

Everyone seemed to hold in their breath as the glow of the stone faded away until all that remained was blackened stone. Finally, the silence was broken with the sounds of calm but loud clinking boots when one of the guards made his way towards Prince Aegon, war hammer in hand.

The Prince took the war hammer from the guard, his face still firmly fixed onto the slab of stone before he got into a stance a minute or two later and Edwyn frowned slightly as he concentrated his ears moments before the Prince swung with all of his might at the slab of stone.

What came next, shook him down to the core, just as sure as the vibrations that must be shaking the Prince. A great loud ringing emanated from the clash, a ringing that bore the same sounds as that of steel swords clashing at the right angles moments before one or both swords broke or shattered.

Excited murmurs escaped from the jaws of the alchemists as the ringing lost its strength though Edwyn kept his eyes on the Prince who'd set the war hammer aside before he stepped closer to the misshapen stone and seemed to be inspecting it, lowly speaking with Fororlan as he touched the place where the war hammer had struck.

Fororlan called one of the alchemist to bring a torch and Edwyn wasn't sure when he started walking towards the Prince but soon enough he was standing next to the Prince with his eyes fixed onto the stone with the light of the torch allowing them to see everything clearly.

The slab of stone was pitch black, darker than the depths of night and it was of the same depth of blackness as that of the Castle of Dragonstone yet…he thought as he peered closer at the place where the war hammer had struck…it was not the same.

The black stone was only a layer akin to the fragile shell of a hardboiled egg, just as the shell would break when struck, pieces of the black stone had equally fallen off, revealing untouched grey white stone that lined the outskirts of Corinth.

"You're getting closer, My Prince." Edwyn muttered half-shocked.

Whatever it was the Prince had changed the last time he'd seen him try, it was certainly closer to the black stones of Dragonstone than anything before.

And judging from the ringing sound, it wasn't merely appearance either.

"There is something I am missing." Prince Aegon's rumbling voice broke him out of his reverie and he turned to the man. A deep frown was adorned on his bearded face, a frown that was equally contemplative and troubled.

He wondered what the Prince felt he missed.

He had no talent for the arcane…nor the blood.

It seemed as if one had to possess a history of magic in ones' bloodline to do true magic and those were few and far between, at least as far they could tell.

Even Fororlan, for all of his knowledge of the arcane, had not the blood needed to do anything more than create wildfyre.

The Prince had both.

"Closer than any other since the doom" Edwyn pointed out, still half-shocked somewhat. Which was completely true, Edwyn thought to himself.

At least as far as they knew.

It was only a year since they'd found the manuscript and the progress the Prince has made since then when it came to creating flames and dragonstone was astounding.

"My Prince." Fororlan's voice cut through his thoughts and he eyed the Alchemist with wary eyes. The Alchemist was looking towards the Prince with a knowing feel about it, as if he knew why it failed.

He glanced towards the Prince and was almost startled at the coldness of Prince Aegon's expression. His eyes were as hard as gemstones as they bore down onto the Alchemist. Fororlan looked contrite and bowed his head under the chilling look of the Prince and uttered "I understand, my Prince" before bowing fully.

Edwyn was left more than a bit uncertain about the exchange, especially since he suspected that whatever it was that Fororlan was suggesting had thrown the Prince into cold anger…and he had his terrible suspicions.

He'd known Fororlan for over six years and knew the man to be many things, brilliant and driven, but equally he did not have a care much else beyond the arcane.

A combination that churned Edwyn's stomach for he knew the deeds the man was and would be capable of to be terrible. And unfortunately, Edwyn also knew that with the Prince's insistence to learn all things magic, Fororlan was likely the least dangerous alchemist-magician the Prince could squeeze out knowledge from.

The good thing was that Edwyn knew the Prince knew of the man's character – and more – and equally Fororlan knew that he'd die a terrible death before he'd have the chance to betray the Prince, after all, the alchemists were outnumbered with the apprenticing boys and men from Dragonstone that Prince Aegon had handpicked, which Fororlan undoubtedly knew.

"I won't be back for some time to repeat this. Set aside any further research on this." Aegon said to Fororlan and the Alchemist nodded affirmatively.

"Of course my Prince. We'll focus our attentions on production" the Alchemist said and Aegon looked away from the alchemist, dismissing the man in his silent ways, before turned Edwyn and gestured him to follow him as he began to walk away with the four guards who always shadowed the Prince in tow.

"You mentioned you felt as if you were missing something" Edwyn inquired on as they walked through the building where the alchemists resided.

"Hmm" the Prince confirmed as they veered towards the outer doors. The Prince took a look at him for a moment before answering "The manuscript, for all of its usefulness, is by and large useless." Edwyn raised his eyebrows at that.

The manuscript had been bought from one of Fororlan's contacts in Volantis, written by a man named Laziros over a century ago, supposedly a Qartheen in origin, on the premise that it contained the secrets of fire magic – and how to create dragonstone.

One of many such manuscripts and texts the Prince had collected over the years though this manuscript had the air of genuineness about it, according to both Fororlan and the Prince.

He'd gone over the manuscript with the Prince and Fororlan though the words meant little to him. Much of it the text seemed nonsense to him, almost spiritual in a queer and unholy way, with descriptions that ran heavy with alleged connections and weaving or guiding those connections into acting or doing something.

Yet despite all of that, he'd been proven wrong when it came to the nonsense of the text the very first time Prince Aegon controlled flames.

"Useful but useless, my Prince?" Edwyn questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Prince Aegon smiled faintly through his beard, a trace of amusement on his now common usual stone face. "Mayhaps its harsher than it deserves. Nonetheless, the value of the manuscript had long since lost its value" the Prince said.

He glancing at Edwyn when he spoke again. "There are no secrets of how to create dragonstone within the manuscript. Laziros did not know how to create it. Much of his suppositions is only intelligent guesswork. He was however, it seems, at least a fire mage of some modicum of talent, though he did not possess any fundamental knowledge that anyone couldn't have worked out on their own when it comes to fire manipulation with enough time and the luck of talent."

Edwyn frowned. "Then how…"

"How did I get accomplish what I did today?" the Prince finished Edwyn's train of thought.

Edwyn nodded. The Prince remained silent for a moment as they reached the outer doors. "I used a different kind of flame but it isn't enough, I don't think, even if I had enough of it. There is more to it, beyond simply wrestling that which exists to ones will and imagination. I will need to discover a better way and what is missing." the Prince said as he began to stroke his beard, his brows furrowing in contemplation.

Neither of them said anything as they made it out of building that sat atop of Alchemist hill, one of four hills that Corinth was situated in between off, and walked down the snaking steps that lead to the town.

Edwyn glanced at the Prince and saw him still deeply lost in his thoughts, a kind of lost that was different to the kind of cold contemplation that had struck him over the past several moons.

An expression he welcomed, to say the truth.

Even if it was on the matters of the arcane. Even if it was fleeting in the face of other more urgent problems that needed solving.

It was the look that he'd seen when they were stuck on a problem with no obvious answers, like how far they'd need to go to redesign their flagships using timber which was heavier and weaker than the ironwood that current fleet of flagships were made out of or the time when they had to find substitute materials in Walano for the liquid stone he and the Prince created.

Edwyn sighed silently and for a moment paused in his thoughts, instead focusing on the pin pricks of light from burning oil lamps that lined the streets of Corinth, pin pricks of lights that seemed like the mirrors of the stars above.

Despite the problems they faced, from the growing sinking feeling that the men they'd sent out west were dead, and the problem of the preying of their trade ships by pirates by Walano, Edwyn couldn't help but focus on the positives despite the shadows those heavy problems cast upon them.

And there were plenty of positives as he gazed upon the town, a town that Edwyn thought was a beacon of hope he'd rarely thought possible.

To this day, he marvelled at the faith the commonfolk formerly of Dragonstone had in the Prince when he'd asked and convinced them to come with him – 'Your ancestors left with Aenar the Exile to escape the Doom. Trust in me as Aenar trusted Daenys when I tell you off the Promised Land' – a faith that had only grown to near zealotry as the town grew in prosperity and opportunity, both things that for many of the commonfolk, had only ever been possible under the guidance of the Prince.

Then came the people and children who'd been born into slavery and knew nothing but chains and misery were welcomed like long lost kin into the homes and hearth of Corinth, and for many, it was the first kind of kindness they'd ever experienced.

Former slave children were raised amongst the children of the commonfolk whilst the adult slaves were granted homes and trained in their choice of duty, be it farming, craftsmanship, soldiery, or otherwise.

There was a sense of community that Edwyn was hard pressed to find anywhere in Westeros and he doubted even the famed Wintertown could compete with the kind of community the Prince and the Princess have created here.

And the people of Corinth knew that too and they loved the family of dragonriders for it beyond measure.

'Keep faith in the young Prince, Edwyn. One day, he'll stop hiding and you'll see.' Grandmaester Elysar's words rang in his mind when he'd asked the man if he should go to the Citadel and earn his links or stay with the Prince.

He'd stayed with the Prince ever since then.

He thought he'd seen what the Grandmaester meant when they were theorising the nature of the world or replicating goods like Yi-Tish porcelain or glass or liquid stone or the many, many other things that now sustained Corinth.

That Elysar had meant to mean his clever mind that seemed as if it drew on divine inspiration and would have seen him forge as many links within the Citadel should he have chosen that route. In less than a decade, they made more progress on the sciences than the last three hundred Edywn estimated. But he'd been wrong.

That had been only one side of the Prince and it was not even most important side.

It wasn't even his talent in magic, a talent that Edwyn knew Elysar did not know, that Edwyn thought to himself.

The Prince himself had not known until years after Elysar's death.

No, it was the Prince's ability to inspire people to follow him, abilities that Edwyn had known the Prince capable of but not to the extent he'd seen in the moons before they'd arrived in the Summer Isles and ever since then.

Yes…

Grandmaester Elysar could see clearer than any man he'd known before and since.

"If you frown any deeper, it may become permanent." Aegon said, his distinctly rumbling voice shaking him out of his thoughts.

Edwyn turned towards the Prince, the light of the torches carried by the guards behind them casting onto his face. He smiled a little as he stopped twiddling with the beads of his necklace his wife had made for him that, twiddling that he hadn't known he was doing.

"Just thinking on the town and how far it has come in such a short time." Edwyn elected to say, unwilling to share his thoughts of the Prince.

The corners of the Prince's mouth drove upward, moving his cheeks, the only way to know nowadays if he was smiling or not under the well-kept but thick beard he had.

"Aye. It amazes me as well." the Prince said, a note of pride and affection in his voice before he continued "I can only imagine what we will build once we find our home." The Prince lost the smile and gazed upon the town and his face melted into cold marble stone that seemed capable of stifling any source of warmth.

"Yet there are those that seek to strangle it in the crib" the way the Prince spoke sent chills down Edwyn's spine.

His tone had been calm yet the fury laden within it was undeniable.

The Prince knew those who were taken and knew them by name. And if there is one element that kept Edwyn wary about the Prince, beyond his magic, it was his penchant to never forgive a slight…or threat.

Edwyn remained silent for a few moments as they descended down the last quarter of the steps before glancing nervously away towards the distant lights downstream of the river where the port was and where he knew the captured crew of the pirate ships were located. "Have we discovered who?" he asked.

"Yes. And no." the Prince answered as he peered at Edwyn. "We know who is responsible but I do not believe they are acting without support."

Edwyn thoughts immediately went to the Triarchy when he thought of who that support may be. There was a chance that Myr was acting alone – with the way they were filling Lys' coffers by purchasing slaves, he did not think they would want to risk that now that Braavos was supplying their own gold and ships for Daemon's Conquest – but he wasn't sure of it, not with how heated the affair was becoming.

With Prince Daemon warring with the Triarchy in the Stepstones with the Velaryons and the financial and material backing of Braavos, it was certainly possible that the faction agreed to attack Corinth in this way in retaliation against Daemon.

And, Edwyn thought, the want-away knights sent to join Prince Daemon probably was a good reason to believe that Prince Aegon was not as neutral as it appeared.

Prince Aegon narrowed his eyes before looking away towards the distance.

"It doesn't matter who is supporting them, not right now. We'll answer the offense as is due. Sooner or later." the Prince paused for a moment before adding.

"It will be discussed in the next council meeting."

Edwyn nodded gravely, already suspecting of what the Prince will do.

There was little choice but to.

Soon enough they arrived at the town, passing by the racetrack where carriage races, jousts and melees took place, walking past buildings and homes which still had people going about their business as market shops that sold from spice and herbs to silk and porcelain remained open.

The styles of the homes and buildings was not beautiful, not like the colourful buildings that be found in Tyrosh or the red topped buildings of Kings Landing, and the folk never sought to change it knowing that efforts would be wasted since it was only a matter of time before they left for the lands Prince Aegon promised them.

The Prince often stopped to talk and questioned the people around them about this or that, an act that Edwyn saw delighted each and every one of them, and from the way the Prince spoke with them, it pleased him too.

At times, he wondered if the commonfolk, particularly the men and women who'd been raised with the Faith, would revere the Prince so if they knew of his wants and abilities in magic. He'd never been a pious man, not when he was considered a living sin for merely being born, but that could not be said for thousands of others.

Yet, each time he thought about it, each time he saw the Prince made fire dance to his will, and each time he saw the looks of the commonfolk when he was talking with them, Edwyn knew that the Faith would lose that battle of reverence.

Just as he knew that the freed slaves who came with their queer faiths of Red Gods and a dozen other faiths, though many of whom were converting to the Faith of the Seven, the Faith to which their Prince held himself to, would not choose their faiths over the Prince and his family.

Especially without the presence of priests or septons and septas to argue against the practice and use of magic.

The topic of the crew on the long gone ships came up, a topic that was kept from the majority of people – though it was not a secret to the common folk that the men on those ships were in search for their home, just not where – and how the Prince managed to seem so sincere when he'd answered with 'soon' when in grim truths no one but only the Gods could know of the fate of those sailors, Edwyn knew not.

And as they walked away from the common folk, the sincere expression on the Prince's face fell, once more becoming unreadably cold though Edwyn knew the Prince well enough to know that the lack of news disturbed the Prince greatly.

Whilst most people did not know, enough knew about the search out West that it could spark seeds of doubt in the Prince. He did not doubt that the Prince knew it.

By the time they got to the gates of the castle built on top of the hill on the other side of the town, it was well into the night. He closed the door to his room and soft moans were elicited by the sharp clunking sound of the door.

"Edwyn?" Clarissa's sleepily called out as she peered her head upward.

"Yes, it's me." Edwyn whispered as he took of his robes. He got into the bed and kissed the top of her head, which caused his wife to make a pleased sound, and she settled into his arms.

"You're late" she complained sleepily.

Edwyn sighed exasperated.

"You know I can't help it. Not when I'm with the Prince." She only harrumphed as she took his hand placed it on top of her swollen belly.

"Excuses." She muttered though not without a teasing tone to her voice.

Edwyn chuckled slightly and tightened his grip on her before sleep took them away.

-Break-

108 AC, Corinth

Castorys POV

Castorys sidestepped the downward swinging sword and raised his sword up as the boy opposite him moved his feet and changed his body to strike.

'Read the way your opponent moves, Castorys' rang in his head, almost as loudly as the wood clanged in the training pitch.

Castorys moved his feet with the blow and twisted his body hard as he swung at the boy. The other boy only barely managed to raises his sword and it wasn't a good block for he was unbalanced and Castorys pressed, his blows hitting hard and fast, his feet felt like they were dancing across the ground, and he thought he'd win this time.

But he'd called victory too soon for the older boy managed to turn his last blow to his left side and twisted around whilst ducking before slashing upward, catching Castorys off-guard. The elder boy pressed. Low cuts. High cuts. Each blow Castorys felt until one strike knocked the sword out of his hand as it struck it.

"Ahhh." Castorys cried out and held his hand before he bit his lip to stifle his cries. So hard that he thought he was tasting blood on his tongue.

"My Prince." The older boy hurried over towards Castorys, concern and fear etched on his scarred and egg-shaped face. Castorys looked at the older boy with a glare as the other guards were approaching. The boy, Nico, was mayhaps three years old than Castorys was and probably oldest boy amongst the group of squires.

Older and stronger and faster but he had been so close to finally beating him…

The sounds of slow clapping surprised both of them and they both turned towards the sound. Castorys flushed when he saw his father there between his younger brothers and the other boys, standing there with a large smile on his bearded face.

"Well done boys" his father rumbled out before he began to walk towards them.

Nico hastily stood aside, his head slightly bowed but Castorys could see the boy being scared. "Your Grace." Nico stammered, so unlike the confident boy moments before.

His father's warm expression didn't change as he spoke "Boy, why don't you get washed up?" His father said calmly before looking towards the guards and jerked his head.

The guards nodded to father and left with his brothers who gave him a consoling smile before leaving with the other boys with Nico following them quietly.

Some of the guards remained and stood aside though never far away, hovering like quiet sentinels.

Castorys looked away from father's face as he gripped his sore hand. "Let me see." Father said calmly but firmly and Castorys jerked his hand towards his father though he didn't look to his father but instead towards the ground.

His father was gentle with his hand but he still winced when he felt father pushed his hands on it. "It'll be sore for a few days, mayhaps a week but your hand will be fine." Father said calmly.

Great, Castorys thought morosely.

So in another week's time he'll lose to Nico…again.

Today already was the fourth time.

"Castorys." Father's sharp voice made him wince. He heard his father say.

"Son." Father said, this time gentler, softer and Castorys looked to his father.

His father was looking at him gently, kindly and Castorys couldn't help when he bit hard onto his lip as he struggled not to cry. His father saw it and smiled gently before swooping him up and Castorys clung tightly to his father's neck as he buried his face in the crook of his father's neck.

By the time he was finished sniffling – he was not crying – he felt embarrassed for acting like a little kid. He hadn't cried in forever and now he cries? He was almost eight namedays old! He was meant to be better! A warrior like father!

He let go of his father's neck and his father looked at him warmly. "Feel better now?"

Castorys flushed and his father chuckled as he gently placed Castorys down. He looked around and saw that the guards were looking away, their black glass knives gleaming in the light of the morning sun whilst thankfully there was no one else there. At least no one but father saw him, he thought relieved but still embarrassed.

He felt father's hand on his shoulder.

"Castorys…look at me." Castorys looked at his father and met his mismatching eyes.

"Why were you so upset?" his father asked.

Castorys bit his lip momentarily before he spoke.

"I'm meant to be better than every kid! I can't even beat Nico!" Castorys said frustrated and upset. He was father's heir, everyone expected him to be the best!

The other boys, the people of Corinth, even the guards!

How could he prove that he was the best if he couldn't win even once over Nico who wasn't even as good as others like Maenes or Lomer who were only two namedays older than Nico and could fight with men much older than they!

"Castorys." Father said with a frown. "You're only eight years old and Nico is almost twelve. At your ages, even one year is enough to be a big difference. You're not meant to defeat everyone, you're meant to learn how to fight." His father said gently.

"Everyone else thinks otherwise." Castorys muttered.

No one said anything to Castorys but Castorys knew. He saw it in the faces of the other boys his age and older. Boys that expected him to be undefeatable and amazing like father was. His father, the great dragon that no one could defeat, his father who would take them to the promised lands where no one has ever been before!

Not even the Crow Warriors of Omboru – who tried many times – could defeat father! Everyone expected him to be just like father but Castorys couldn't even beat a former slave like Nico whose only been learning to fight for two years!

"Everyone else is wrong." Father said firmly as he forced Castorys to meet his gaze again. "You're learning and you're doing well. You do not have to prove anything to anyone at all, least of all to anyone at just eight namedays" father said gently as he smiled at Castory.

Castorys nodding weakly before he gave a weak smile when father stared at him sternly with that 'you better listen' look. Father lost the look and smiled gently at him before he stood straight up again towering over Castorys.

There were not many that were taller or bigger than father.

"You have nothing to worry about, my boy." Father said with a kind smile.

"Anyone with eyes knows how good you are. You're holding your own against an older boy and you're leagues ahead where I was as a boy your age." Castorys looked sceptical at that and father chuckled as he ruffled Castorys' hair.

Everyone called father as the best fighter in all of the Summer Isles and mayhaps across all of the known world and Castorys believed it.

He'd seen father fight and he never seen anything so amazing.

He was like the storm that raged during the summer season, each hit of father's Castorys imagined was hit with the strength of thunder as clashing steel hit with the way father always fought with power and amazing speed.

"Truly." Father said to him with a smile as he placed his big hand onto Castorys' shoulder and led him towards the outside.

"So do not fret, my son. With enough hard work and dedication, you will become even better than I am." Father said to Castorys.

"Really?" Castorys asked with surprise and hope but also some disbelief.

"Of course." Father said before he stopped them and crouched down slightly so that their faces were close to each other again.

"I have no doubt that you, your brothers and your sister will be better than I ever was or ever will be." Father said in Greek with a faint smile before he continued as he held onto Castorys' shoulders, eyes alight with pride.

"Polaerys takes after your mother with that mind he possesses. Valarr has a curiosity that I can see taking and lifting him beyond the heavens itself. Your sister and little brother are still young yet but they also show promise in their own ways." Father said to him softly as his proud eyes bored into Castorys.

His father grasped a little tighter onto his shoulders as he spoke and Castorys couldn't look away from his father's eyes. "You and your siblings are my pride and joy. My reason for everything." Father said quietly to Castorys with a serious expression as he held even tighter onto his shoulders.

"And you, Castorys, I have no doubt that you will become greater than I, not only for our family but for our people. You are the brother that your siblings look up to and many of the other children do the same. You will build monuments upon the foundation I will lay. You are special Castorys. Know that and know that I believe in you, my son." Father added and Castorys leapt and hugged father again.

Father's words felt like how the warm kiss of the sun at dawn felt on the skin after a swim in the cold ocean but instead of the skin, he felt it at the centre of his being.

Father chuckled softly as he tapped Castorys' back gently.

Castorys looked at his father and saw that his smile was gone and instead there was a glimmer in his eyes, a glimmer he recognised. He'd seen it when father was talking with mother or with the advisors.

"Remember what I told you about others that you dislike?"

"That others I don't like can still be helpful"

Castorys parroted back his father's words. Father always would sit down with him and Polaerys and Valarr, speaking to them and teaching them and asking them strange and difficult questions that made them think a lot. Sometimes, he didn't understand but the lesson he repeated to father he understood a lot.

Father nodded slightly. "We will always face challenges in life, my son. Sometimes those challenges can be other people." Father told him seriously.

"It is up to you to decide how you will meet those challenges." His father tapped him on his temple. Castorys nodded obediently, knowing exactly what father meant and wanted from him.

"I understand father." Castorys said dutifully and determined.

Father smiled. "Good" he intoned, switching back to High Valyrian which everyone including the guards understood, before he rose up.

Father placed his hand on top of Castorys' hair. "Come, your brothers will be waiting for you. I missed their bouts but Ser Baerys said that they both won." Father said and Castorys bobbed his head even as his father's hand remained on his head.

"Yes, Polaerys took down Miram quickly though Valarr took a bit long to disarm Emrym." Castorys said to father before describing the fights of his brothers.

Soon enough Castorys was with his brothers again who were waiting on him. Father spoke with his brothers briefly and praised them both on their fights. Valarr cheekily asked if his reward could be to fly on Shrykos. His father only said that Valarr should ask his mother if that could be his reward and Valarr's expression was very funny.

Probably imagined their mother's tongue-lashing for even asking that when they all knew they had to be twelve before they'd be allowed to ride their dragons.

Father left soon afterwards, leaving him behind with his brothers.

"You'll get him next time" Valarr said encouragingly with an encouraging nod when the topic of Castorys' duel with Nico came up. "If it wasn't that trickery, you'd have won! Next time you will know that he can do that trick!"

"We can train every day after dinner if you like." Polaerys offered.

Castorys looked at Polaerys as if he'd grown an extra head "You never want to do anything after dinner" he asked in bemused disbelief.

Valarr laughed at that "That's so true! It's my favourite time to play you in chess because you become so lazy after a full belly!"

Polaerys pushed Valarr in annoyance "That only happened once!"

"No! It happened three times!"

"They don't count, I stopped playing before the game was finished!"

"So? That still means I won!"

Castorys laughed at his brothers' antics and smiled as his twin and their younger bickered endlessly even as they left the castle training yard.

Later, after Castorys caught up with his twin and their younger brother and had gone to see their dragons, Castorys told his guards that he wanted to speak with Nico.

"Nico." Castorys said as he found him in the other training yard outside the castle walls where the boys Castorys and his brothers trained with, like Nico, lived with the families of the servants.

It wasn't the only training yard either. There were many in the town below, even three nearby the racetracks and most of them were open to everyone.

Father even encouraged it to be used and liked to say that everyone should learn how to defend themselves. Most people always did what father or mother wanted them to do so they were always used. Plus, father explained to him and his brothers that the former slaves never wanted to be slaves again so many of them saw training as a way to prevent it from ever happening again.

Nico was different though. He, and some of the other boys, were freed from Lys when they were very young and were kind of like unwanted in Lys because they weren't the 'best' whatever that meant. Best at what, he wondered but mother and father and even the other boys didn't explain so he stopped asking.

The boys that Castorys trained with had no parents but they were brought up with 'foster' families, his father had said, families that had enough room to take in another boy or two and when those close to his and his brothers' age wanted to learn how to fight, father had them included in the training with them.

The older boys that were on the cusp of manhood were training with the captains and the commander…kind of like squires if he remembered his lessons rightly.

"My Prince." Nico said a little warily as he glanced at the guards and stepped back.

Castorys' eyes widened and hurriedly spoke up "I'm not here to do anything!" before he turned around and said about the guards "And they won't as well."

"Prince Aegon would have us strung up and beat us half to death himself if we did what you think we would do, boy." One of his guards, Emry, said dryly and roughly though it was clear that they at least found the situation a little funny.

"Why did you think I would make them do anything like that?" Castorys questioned a little confused. Nico scratched the back of his head.

"Well…some of the older boys who heard what happened said I'm in big trouble for hurting one of the dragon Princes. That hurting Princes, 'specially one like you can get you killed. They said that in Lys, even looking at the nobles wrongly there gets you gelded or worse even killed." Nico said carefully with his odd accent.

"Well, we're not like that." Castorys said a little offended, unsure what 'gelded' meant but whatever it was, it didn't sound nice at all and he did hear the guards shift beside him who he saw had uncomfortable faces.

Nico smiled a little sheepishly.

"I know. But…" Nico shrugged and they both fell into a little lull.

One that Castorys broke.

"I…" Castorys began a little awkwardly before shaking his head and looked at Nico.

"The twist thing that you did…it was good." Castorys said a little hesitantly.

Nico smiled slightly before shrugging "I kinda learned how to be slippery in Lys."

Nico paused for a second before adding "If you like, I can teach you how I do it?"

Castorys brightened up that before he reigned in his excitement and gave a little nod.

"I'd like that." Castorys said calmly like he often saw father speak but still…

He couldn't help but let a little smile bloom on his face.

-Break-

108 AC – Port Corinth

Ser Cedrick Leodon POV

His boots clunked on the stone steps as he descended down, the growing sounds of tortured screams, wails and begging ringing in his ears.

He arrived at the bottom of this miserable place and walked passed the guards before continuing down the dimly lit corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly.

He'd been here before it was turned into a prison, when it'd just been a well-hidden cavern deep below the surface with pools of cobalt water and walls that glittered with pink gemstones.

Much of it had been mined but the beauty of the cavern had still been there.

He glanced at the hollowed out grey rocky walls before veering towards the mostly empty cells with steel bars that lined the inner parts of this passage and the three other passages of the cavern. There was none of that now. How quickly things could change in merely a few moons.

The sounds of torture grew louder as he approached his destination.

He passed by a couple of patrols before arriving at the central parts of the prison that connected to the other passageways where dozen guards were seated playing a game of stones and tiles before gazing upon the heavy set doors that hid chambers where the guards questioned the prisoners behind doors that did little to hide the screams.

The guards roused out and upwards before they could speak, Cedrick asked impatiently "Where is Trytas?" his gaze veering to the doors where he could hear were at least three voices of men that were being tortured.

"He's in with one of the pirate captains." One of the guards said before another pointed to one of the doors and Cedrick set his jaw slightly before he brusquely walked towards the door.

Cedrick pushed against the door and the door swung open, violently, and Trytas twisted around with his dagger at the ready though he relaxed when he realised who it was.

Cedrick's gaze turned towards the naked and hanging man whose breathing was shallow and weak though that was not what caught his attentions, no, it was the crisscrossing cuts sliced into the man's flesh that looked deep and some old, the nails embedded in the man's knees and elbows, and the burn marks seared into his thighs.

"Ser Cedrick." Trytas greeted with a curious but hard look on his face.

Cedrick returned his impassive gaze to Trytas.

Trytas was a blond-haired man in his mid-twenties of average height though what made him stand out what his burliness. A farmer's son then turned sailor then turned guardsman, Trytas was strong as an ox and quickly became one of the better fighters.

Trytas was also one of the more unscrupulous men in Corinth and the kind of man who could sleep soundly after torturing a man to death.

"What can I do for you?"

Cedrick narrowed his eyes slightly as he answered "The Prince is coming on the morrow. He wants to interrogate the last captain himself." Cedrick paused as he scrutinised Trytas and moments later asked "You have kept him…untouched?"

"I haven't touched that pirate" Trytas said defensively "our Prince was clear in what he wanted when we got them in." Trytas responded and Cedrick did not like the tone but he ignored it.

Cedrick nodded "Good." Cedrick's eyes darted towards the hanging man "Try and keep that one alive. The Prince will want to use him"

Trytas raised his eyebrows before he glanced at the pirate "That may be…difficult."

Cedrick scoffed "I can see that" he said before shaking his head and peering at Trytas "Just try it. It's not as if there are many other pirates still alive."

Trytas somehow managed to look sheepish.

Two hundred men those two pirate ships had carried. Two hundred men. The first crew of the pirate ship had long died and nearly all of the crew of the second pirate ship were dead now too. All in the space of less than three moons.

"Did you at least get any more useful information from him?" Cedrick asked as he looked at the hanging pirate. Trytas grumbled.

"No. The same story. I doubt the other pirate captain will say anything else."

"That is for the Prince to find out."

Trytas grunted and Cedrick nodded curtly before turning around but before he could leave through the door Trytas asked him "Will we go hunt and kill them all?"

Cedrick paused in his steps and slowly turned around.

Trytas bore a grim and hard face as he stared directly at Cedrick.

"I know our Prince won't let this insult lie. I want to be there fighting alongside him."

Cedrick wore an inquisitive look on his face, one that Trytas got and answered "A friend of mine, a good friend, Jace, was on one of the ships." Trytas said to him in a hard voice before adding "We started out as deck mates together."

Cedrick said nothing for a moment before nodding.

"I will make sure of it." Cedrick promised, all but confirming the man's suspicions.

Trytas grunted as he nodded with a pleased expression before he looked at the almost corpse "I'll keep the bastard alive. For the Prince."

Cedrick turned back around and walked out of the door.

Once he was out of the dark and gloomy cavern, he made the journey back to the Port where dozens of carracks were docked, along with one of the returning fleets from the Far East, in the wider part of the river stream which bore a good enough harbour for the docks and the shipbuilding yards.

Normally it wouldn't be as full as it was now but with the threat of the pirate ships that they knew were patrolling their trade routes, ships were now only sent in large fleets with thrice the men on them much like how they sent the fleet to the Far East.

It meant that there were fewer sailors that could man the ships available.

Porth Corinth's dockyard wasn't as large as Dragonstone's dockyards nor were the number of ships they could built high but they did the job in maintaining their current fleets and more importantly building of the topsail larger ships that served to be their flagships.

The journey back to the town was smooth and quick as he travelled on horse on the smooth roads that lead to the town, which in the distance flew large banners with the colours of the Prince's personal heraldry.

As he rode through the centre of town, the smells of spices and cooked foods assaulted his noise and the sight of colourful silks and cloths and potteries lined the streets.

It looked very much like the wealthier parts of Kings Landing did, on a good day, but without the lovely smell of shit and perfumes that pervaded the main markets, the only difference was that there were many more dragonseeds than there were Westerosi, Cedrick mused to himself.

A consequence of tens of thousands of slaves bought and freed from their chains.

Of course, that wasn't to say they were the only peoples here.

There were still many Westerosi, few Essosi like Braavosi or Qohori or Meerenese, and many Summer Islanders too though they often only came to trade with how much closer Corinth was to their villages than Tall Trees Town or Lotus Port which was at the other side of the river.

He passed through the main town centre and rode passed the buildings that housed the Guilds of healing and sciences. The Prince had spent much coin on convincing healers from all around Essos to come join them and offered many promises of support to fund their experiments and needs.

After the trade ships ventured across the Known World and returned, it wasn't odd to see them bring to these Guilds strange plants and woods and even insects for one reason or another, sometimes a simple rumour that this or that herb had magical powers to heal any wound was enough for it to be bought and brought to the healers.

It wasn't long before he reached the steps to the castle that stood atop the tallest hill in the region, a dull grey castle with high walls. It was build much like the rest of the town was, with liquid stone, though it was left unpainted.

The builders that had come with them from Braavos often lamented the Prince's austerity, his refusal to allow them to build a monument worthy of his family name, but Cedrick cared little for it.

He knew the Prince well and knew that he thought of the castle as a necessity to protect the young Princes and Princess, and not a home. No, his thoughts of home always cast West, to the unknown lands that lie beyond the vast seas.

He would have thought it folly but…

He knew the kind of man the Prince and knew what he was capable of.

He held no doubts that if the Prince said that there was land West of the Summer Isles, then he had good reasons to believe there was land West of the Summer Isles.

It would only be a matter of time before they found it.

He was escorted through the castle and after he arrived at the top floor, he was let through the doors to one of the guarded main halls and walked through.

Prince Aegon was there with the youngest children, along with the hound Rex which reared its head towards him as he lay on the ground, a grey coloured bitch that the Prince had purchased as a pup amongst the other pups he purchased mere moons before their departure from Westeros, hounds now grown and kept and cared for in the kennels by dog breeders the Prince convinced to come with them.

The hound was always there with the family, even during their meals. He'd found it strange, why the hound wasn't with the other hounds in the kennels but he knew better than to question such an unimportant point.

The youngest of them, Prince Solonys was playing with the popular children's game, a game that had blocks of wood carved in two dozen shapes that had to be slotted into a wooden table with hollowed out shapes, whilst the only daughter, Princess Rhaena was using coloured chalk on blackened wood, another popular children's toy.

"My Prince." Cedrick bowed his head and the Prince gestured him inward before returning his attentions to his youngest children.

"How is young Edmund?" the Prince asked as he turned his gaze towards Cedrick.

Cedrick was surprised by the sudden question but answered "He is healthy." he said with a faint smile as he thought of his young son who was about the age of Prince Solonys, eight moons old.

He'd married two years ago to Elyse, a baker's girl he'd known since before they left, and she'd given him a son, something he couldn't have imagine he'd have when he'd been nothing more than a 'Kings Landing rat'.

The moment he'd held his son in his arms, Cedrick promised him that he'd have everything he'd need in life, everything that Cedrick had not when he was begotten.

"Though he is still not sleeping well." Cedrick admitted. For the past sennight, he kept waking at all times of the night. "Elyse says that it's because of his teething."

"Hmm. Yes. It can be painful for the child" the Prince said glancing at his youngest for a moment before he turned and met Cedrick's gaze.

"I will have someone send in a remedy, a pale white paste, that can sooth the pain. It seems to work. It has helped Rhaena and it is helping Solonys."

Cedrick smiled at the Prince, gratitude filling him.

"Thank you, my Prnce" he said sincerely.

The Prince nodded pleased before his eyes turned inquisitively and Cedrick understood it.

"Everything will be ready, my Prince. Trytas has not broken the orders."

The Prince merely nodded after a few moments before he moved to assist the babbling Prince Solonys that tried to put in the square block into the triangular hole.

"Good." The Prince said as he guided the infant boy towards the right square hole.

"We'll have no need for the prison come the end of the morrow. It will be closed" the Prince said calmly as he kept most of his attentions on the infant boy, smiling as the child correctly slotted the wooden block in.

"My Prince..." Cedrick began and the Prince turned to look at him with an inquisitive glint in his eyes. "We have what we need from the pirates." Nearly all of the prates had said the same thing time and again. They knew exactly who their enemies were now and where they were. Cedrick paused momentarily and eyed the children before looking at the Prince again who simply waved him on to continue and he did.

"Wh-"

"Why do I wish to see the pirate captain myself?"

Cedrick nodded slightly.

The Prince hummed as he leaned back fully into his chair and turned to face Cedrick, his expression turning to stone though the fury was undeniable in his eyes.

Cedrick knew then that it wasn't a matter of doubting the information the guards had extracted. No, instead, it was the kind of matter that all men felt at least once in their lives.

Cedrick bowed his head in acceptance.

The coldness in the Prince's face faded away and in its stead, seriousness crept in.

"I will task Galaenys and Maerro to intensify the training of our men." The Prince said with full seriousness and Cedrick nodded gravely understanding why.

The Prince continued "I will be adding you as the third commander and you will lead the garrisons that I will leave behind in my name." Cedrick ears peaked at that.

They had about thirteen garrisons they could call to muster and if they needed to increase it by drawing off of the full time farmers, it could jump to fifteen or sixteen and at a push, they could call upon the rest of the men of Corinth that were trained in the matters of bows and spears.

"As you command, my Prince. How many garrisons?"

As much as he was disappointed that he wouldn't be going with the Prince, he also knew that it was the more important posting for the Prince and it was an honour to be trusted with it.

"Six" the Prince answered.

"My Prince." Cedrick began, his voice tinging with concern.

"You'll take only three and a half thousand men with you?" The Basilisk Isles was large and a dangerous place, a place of a thousand and one islands, filled with pirates, slavers, murders and monsters, truly a place of depravity fit only for others of the same ilk.

And there were near a hundred or more pirate lairs in that cursed isles. The Isle of Flies alone boasted near a dozen alone whilst Talon, a claw shaped island north of the Isles of Tears, was said to be one of the most fortified pirate dens out of all the Basilisk Isles.

Even with the sailors of a fleet of thirty, the Prince would only have six or seven thousand men with him. Far too few to deal with the problem of the Pirate King.

The Prince smiled grimly "Yes" he simply answered before his expression hardened "Do not fret. I have a few plans to equalize the disparity in numbers." Cedrick could hear the steel in the Prince's voice.

Cedrick bowed his head in acceptance. "Of course my Prince. As you command."

The Prince's expression lessening slightly as he nodded before returning his attentions to the children. "That is all. I will speak with you again on the morrow."

Cedrick bowed before the Prince before he turned around and walked away.

-Break-

108 AC, Port Corinth

Gael Targaryen POV

Dinner was a raucous affair as they ate as a family with her boys throwing pieces of meat to Rex as always. Conversation flowed between herself, Aegon and their boys as they discussed this or that happening or interest like they always did most days.

Though, excited talks about riding their dragons grew more as time went on and it was conversation she disliked having. They were her little boys, and though she knew their dragons would not hurt their riders, she still feared for her boys.

The lessons she thought were a pain and excessive, boring and repeating lessons about checking saddles, whips and reins taught to her by her mother and Baelon and Aegon, were now all of a sudden grossly inadequate for her children and she made it a point to ensure her boys would know what to check and do to the point that she could be sure that it was as instinctive as breathing.

She wasn't so concerned about dutiful and attentive Castorys, or Polaerys, who had a natural sense of cautiousness that made him seem older than his years, as she was about Valarr, whose curiosity about anything and everything made her concerned that he'd rush off one day without doing the proper checks.

But nevertheless, she was extremely happy with their boys who were all dutiful in the ways that mattered. And, much to her joy, they were as close as thieves, as close as her brothers Baelon and Aemon were said to have been as children.

She would not say it to Aegon but she had feared for their sons, that they'd be distant from one another like how Aegon had been distant from his eldest brother and antagonistic with other elder brother.

She knew that there were circumstances that caused such distance, circumstances like the blame assigned by Daemon to Aegon for the death of Alyssa, or the magical memories Aegon bore since he was born of another life, mayhaps the future, that she knew had shaped Aegon as much as his estranged relations did with his father and brother, and she was relieved none such circumstances existed amongst her boys.

In any case, she thought to herself as she shook away the thoughts about Aegon's brothers who somehow still managed to be problematic despite their distance, to say that she was a happy mother would be understating it.

Well, as happy she could be, she thought to herself as the faint ache in her heart played up and her mind cast adrift to the child they'd lost.

'There should be eight of us' she thought to herself with a bitter note.

She knew that to give safe birth to five children was a privilege that not many families were blessed with but that shard of sadness and pain wouldn't dislodge in her heart when she was around a table with all of her living children.

She finally agreed to Aegon's wishes to stop trying for another child then, something that she knew removed a heavy weight from his heart.

Even when she'd been heavy with the twins, he'd been tense and afraid for her, so much so he'd sought out learned healers from Pentos to tend to her. A fear that never left him with every pregnancy.

She'd felt guilty, knowing that it was her desires to have a large family that inspired that fear in him but any time she thought the twins, or later Valarr would be enough, she'd see him play with the boys and that wish of her to have a large family kept haunting her and Aegon, as much as he could be single-minded and stubborn, could never deny her anything…not even if he hated it so.

But this time…she thought as her mind went back to her lost child…this time it was truly enough. There would be no more.

"Mama!" the childish voice of her youngest child broke her out of her reverie and she waved off the servant as she picked her not yet one nameday old son.

She set her son onto her lap which delighted the infant and dinner resumed.

After the children were sent to bed, she remained with Aegon in their apartment chamber as they waited until it was time for the council meeting.

"I read the letter." Aegon told her as he fished it out from his pocket and flicked it across the table. Her lips thinned as she stared at the letter as if it offended her.

Truthfully, it did offend her.

She did not know how he could have the gall to write to Aegon.

A Redwyne ship travelled to Lotus Port, Prince Jalla's seat, before making the journey towards Port Corinth. Prince Jalla's messenger arrived sooner than that ship and warned them about it.

They'd had their people board the Redwyne ship before sending back on its way, refusing to even let them disembark from their ship. It mattered not to them that the messenger was a cousin of the Redwyne Lord.

It wouldn't have even mattered if it was Viserys himself!

"And what does he want?" she asked curtly.

Aegon hummed as he began to tap against the hardwood table

"He wants us to return."

Gael scoffed. "He wants us to return?!" she repeated with a higher note in her voice as her nostrils flared and her eyes blazing with fury.

She rose from her seat and began to pace angrily "After all that he did? Removing you from the line of succession" she turned to him and said snappishly "I know, it doesn't matter but he slighted you" before she paced again and almost growled out

"I can accept the excuse that he did it to protect Rhaenyra's inheritance but then he made it pointless when he chose marry that Hightower child, that of a second son no less, instead of remaining a widower like he ought to have been like Aemon and Baelon?!"

At this point she was vibrating with anger, hot burning anger and she stiffened when she felt his arms wrapped around her though moments later she slumped against him, her breathing still heavy.

She knew it was unfair, that neither Aemon or Baelon had been Kings then but she also truly believed that neither would have remarried, not even Aemon had he ascended to the throne.

Did Aemma matter less to Viserys than Alyssa or Jocelyn did to her brothers?

"Why does he want us to return?" she asked resigned and tired.

"He says wants his family close by and offered me the position of Master of Coin and the lands and lordship in the Crownlands I once refused." Aegon told her and she gently pushed against his heavy arms and he released her.

She turned around and looked at him. "Is that it? Does he think we are so easily bought?" she asked and shook her head. "And does he think he can play family after he killed Aemma?" she said harshly. Aegon's expression turned to a faint grimace.

Aemma didn't deserve the fate she got and she'd been absolutely heartbroken to hear Aemma died in childbirth, a fate that she knew Aemma feared and had resigned herself to. Aemma was as clever as she was kind and knew that Viserys desired a son above all else and Aemma would not deny Viserys whom she loved, a son.

Gael understood, of course she did. Dying on the birthing bed was a risk and a risk that was part of life, all women and men, high and common, knew this.

But Aemma's circumstances were different.

Her body was broken and the maesters knew this yet they and Viserys and to her shame, her father, never voiced out the truth of how dangerous it was for Aemma to keep trying and trying. And now, she was dead because of their lies and cruelty.

"And to offer Master of Coin." Gael scoffed. "If he really wanted mend the wound he'd offer at the very least the Hand of the King!"

"His wife's father is Hand of the King. Viserys isn't capable of that." Aegon pointed out calmly to her. She narrowed her eyes.

"As I said, if he wanted to mend the wound." Gael returned before pausing and eying her husband suspiciously "And why aren't you angry?"

"My love." Aegon said with raised eyebrows "You're angry enough for the pair of us as it is." Aegon raised his hands in surrender at her slitted violet eyes.

He sighed before he continued to speak "I expected something like this from Viserys." He looked her directly in the eyes as he spoke "With Daemon fighting in the Stepstones with the Velaryons and the financial backing of Braavos, I wouldn't be surprised if there are those at Kings Landing whispering poison in Viserys' ears."

Gael shook her head "Daemon is many things but he wouldn't do anything to Viserys" she denied firmly. Daemon's redeeming quality was that when he loved those he loved, he loved them fiercely. And Viserys?

Daemon would face Vhagar with Dark Sister in hand alone rather than harm Viserys.

Though…she privately mused to herself darkly, removing Daemon from the line of succession likely would have set her tempestuous nephew into a hot rage.

And men, when they were angered and slighted, could do anything. Even to brothers.

Daemon fighting in the Stepstones to carve out his own kingdom using the pretences of clearing out the islands of pirates was very much, at least, partly as a consequence of Viserys' actions.

She hoped Daemon would be content with a Kingdom of his own.

"I agree." Aegon said with a grim smile before he sighed and closed his eyes with a pained expression on his face. "And I do not think Viserys would completely believe that Daemon would threaten his position as King. But Viserys is alone in Kings Landing, surrounded by those that would seek to instil chaos and doubt at the expense of our House." He finished moments before he reopened his mismatching eyes.

She was taken aback by the comment before she frowned with concern when she realised it was true. Viserys was the only the adult Targaryen in Westeros, a dragonless Targaryen at that. She realised for the first time that her family's hold on the Realm was truly weak even if it was stable, for now, especially with Daemon as mercurial as he is and Viserys far too stubborn to recognise his need for Daemon.

"So you think Viserys truly needs us home?"

Aegon said nothing for a few moments before he sighed and peered at her.

She knew then that yes, Viserys did need them. But still…

"Tell me. Please."

"Yes. He needs us. But it won't matter because he won't change his mind." Aegon told her and there were rare tangs of bitterness in his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Viserys neglected to write it but he has a son by Alicent now. The sailors of the Redwyne ship proudly mentioned it to some of our people." Aegon said grimly to her and her eyes widened before she shook her head almost despondently.

"No…he's not keeping Rhaenyra as heir, is he?"

"The sailors confirmed that Rhaenyra is still heir and Aegon was born last year."

She sat back down. "Does he know what he is doing?" A son always came before a daughter, even a daughter from a first marriage.

If her father had to call a Great Council to settle the debate on the matter of inheritance to stave off civil war because he knew his choice would not settle the issue, a great King that everyone respected and ruled for almost half a century by then, what was Viserys thinking in ignoring the laws and customs of Westeros?

Aegon sat across from her. "Mayhaps he thinks the oaths sworn by the nobles is enough." She looked up and saw his contemptuous face that settled into grimness.

"Mayhaps he doesn't want to anger Daemon any further by stripping his son from ascending to the throne as King Consort" That was right, Gael thought to herself as she remembered that betrothal and she groaned internally at the mess of their family.

"Or mayhaps he is blinded by guilt not seeing that he was doing greater harm by keeping her heir the moment he chose to remarry and begotten a son." He finished.

She said nothing for a good while, her mind awhirl with so many different things. Her father had not been the best of fathers. He loved her but he had no time for her nor her wishes.

He made mistakes, many of them, and she knew that their family had suffered greatly due to his choices and pride – even now, Saerra wouldn't respond to her letters, her hate of their family was that strong – but one thing she could honestly say was that his duty to the Realm was the most important thing to him.

Beyond even mother.

And Viserys was failing his duty and more importantly their House by not seeing the problems he was causing now and many years later. Especially since he married a daughter of the most powerful and wealthy family in the Reach, even if she was a daughter of a second son of that House, who would not stand idle and let another not of their blood inherit the throne.

In the years since their departure, she'd read a few of Aegon's books, books that spoke of the rise and falls of kingdoms, and discussed them a few times with her husband. A most dangerous time for a Kingdom, its ruling bloodline and the people themselves was when the succession was unclear.

What Viserys was doing was utterly and incomprehensibly dangerous.

She looked up and met his gaze and said nothing as she studied his expression.

It was expressionless, as it so often was when it came to difficult things, but she could see the faint traces of tension in his body, like he's wound and waiting to be sprung at a moment's notice.

"You don't want to be involved, do you?" she asked quietly and knowingly, and a heaviness settled in her chest. Aegon's blank expression broke and he spoke.

"I don't." he admitted to her and she could hear the trace of guilt in his voice but there was also steel in there that made it clear that he wouldn't be moved into acting.

"Our children" she whispered as she looked at her clenched hands.

"Our children." Aegon confirmed with no guilt apparent in his voice.

She was not willing to involve their children in this mess. She could not imagine the awfulness Kings Landing must be now. Even at the best of times, it could be a terrible place for a child, especially a child that had the court's eyes on them.

Aegon had felt it plenty and even she had been party to it even if she had been shielded by her mother mostly. 'Dim Gael', 'Frightful little girl', 'Are we sure she's the Queen's daughter? Alyssa and Viserra were much more like the Queen'.

She forcefully withdrew her mind from those hurtful memories.

Her heart ached for Rhaenyra. She must feel so alone. One and ten namedays old and she was without a mother and all of the scheming eyes of the realm were on her.

And her baby brother, whom she should be cherishing and doting on, was from the moment of his birth a danger to her position, regardless if she ought to have been chosen as heir or not, all because of the folly of her father.

Gael shook her head even as the guilt gnawed at her heart.

"I feel terrible…but I don't wish to involve us either" she whispered pained.

She heard Aegon get up and crouched beside her and took hold of her hands.

"I'm sorry." Aegon told her sincerely and she gazed upon him. She saw the resignation etched on his face and it was devastating.

She could only imagine how he must feel.

And yet, she knew that her parents, Baelon and Alyssa would despair a thousand times worse with the state of their House.

She smiled weakly as she brought up their hands and gently kissed the top of his knuckles. "I know…I am too" she said with glazy eyes before she shook her head and sighed heavily "I could truly use some good news" she said heavily and looked at Aegon meaningfully. Like news from the West she thought to herself.

Aegon's expression lost its guilt and in its place rare uncertainty took hold.

"If only." Aegon reluctantly voiced out as he got up and gently lifted her up. "I don't think we can be sure either way for some time yet." Aegon told her.

Gael didn't like hearing that nor the doubt in Aegon's voice.

She didn't like hearing that they might have sent their people to death, people who almost worshipped them, people who they sold a dream to.

Aegon had promised them many things, but most importantly new safe lands that would put Dragonstone to shame when he'd convinced their people to come.

And Aegon had been so sure that there were lands out in the West of the Summer Isles when he'd come back from the Summer Isles after he'd won Prince Jalla Walano.

Admittedly, she was very excited too, the ideas of being the first to find new lands and the opportunity to carve something out for them and their family was enticing.

She'd seen the copies of ancient and historical maps of the Summer Islanders of the western and some of the eastern coastline of Sothoryos, and it was the western coastline that taken Aegon's interest.

Whilst the western coastline hadn't been followed all the way down, Aegon had seen enough, something, in those maps that made him believe with certainty that there were lands beyond the Known World in the West.

And thirteen moons ago, Aegon ordered the exploration of the West with captains trained on how to use Aegon's secretive inventions, compasses and far seeing Far-Eyes, each mission going further and further before returning with observations of the way the ocean moved – 'the ocean moves in certain ways, Gael, ways and we can find our new home by riding those movements' – all whilst using the Targaryen Islands as a base to replenish their supplies or to make repairs.

To get to the Targaryen Islands from Port Corinth took over two moons' travel whilst thus far, from the Targaryen Islands onwards, the sailors had explored straight or as near straight lines north-west, west and south-west.

With compasses ensuring that the sailors never lost their way, on board of ships built sturdier than even Ibbanese whaling ships, and each exploration mission carefully planned and distances measured, they'd approximately determined that there was nothing West for distance of two moons' journey.

The seas were more dangerous as well, instead of the calmer Narrow Sea or the Summer Sea, with the sailors admitting they felt like the waters of the Sunset Sea shook and heaved and pushed against their ships like no other sea though there were some signs of calmer waters if you sharply went south after one and a half moon's travel north-west position.

Despite the disappointing news, they'd still had hope that they'd find something, and so did Captain Bryce who'd suggested they go four moons' journey west and then south which Aegon agreed with and allowed. They'd hoped that the compasses and provisions would help and ensure to prevent ships being lost and lost at sea.

As the moons ticked over, that hope was dwindling.

West was not the only option but it was the best option if they were going to settle anywhere unless they returned to Westeros. Moraq, a large island in the Jade Sea was the second best option whilst the valleys of the Painted Mountains and the northern tip of the former Kingdom of Sarnor were distant third and fourth options.

Each of the second, third and fourth option had their own challenges but only Moraq was an option she thought was good enough. It was lightly populated and the city of Faros did not boast more than fifty thousand people.

Essos however?

Aegon believed the challenges they'd face there would never end, should they need to settle there, so much so they'd be forced to create an empire to ensure the safety of their family and their people. And with that came with their despise of slavery which she knew would make them instant enemies of the ruling classes should they do anything to combat the practice in the lands they ruled.

'And Empires of so many peoples never last long, least of an empire that would be considered an heir to what most Essosi consider to have been a blight of Planetos.'

She sighed. Mayhaps they could reach an agreement with Prince Jalla and the other Princes and Princesses to permanently settle in Corinth or elsewhere in the Isles.

"But I do not think they have died. The seas may have forced them on a longer route." Aegon said soothingly and that was the end of their conversation about it.

Hours Later…

Her eyes swept across the council table as she sat by Aegon's side. There were seven other men within the council chambers, each of them performing one aspect that helped run the home and the businesses they created for themselves.

Normally, nothing necessitated them meeting like this given that their lands were well run but there were a number of points of import that needed to be discussed, especially the one point that filled her with a burning anger she'd not felt since both sides of their family began to muster men only days after the death of her brother Baelon.

Her hands clenched tightly under the table as her heart ached at her dark thoughts.

She knew what would need to happen, she'd discussed long enough with Aegon to know it has to happen lest their invite further attacks on their people but she hated that he'd have to go and she feared for him. Memories of her brothers dying unbefitting and sudden deaths played on her mind. Anything could happe-

She was pulled out of her dark thoughts as she felt warm calloused hands on top of her right fist and she turned to her right. Aegon was not looking at her but somehow had known of her inner turmoil. She eased herself.

Thankfully her expression hadn't changed and she pushed those thoughts aside for now, instead refocusing on the meeting at hand.

She glanced at Banneth Stally, a Dragonstone native of Westerosi and Valyrian descent, was the Master of Ships and the man who oversaw the building and maintenance of ships whilst also working with Aegon and the other shipwrights to make improvements in the ship designs.

Opposite Stally was Illero Sorros, a man of Braavosi descent, and was the Chief Builder and Master of Masonry. All other builders directly reported into him and was responsible for the construction of homes and protecting the secrets of liquid stone production.

Next to Sorros was Bodrin, a farmer's son from the Crownlands that came to Dragonstone years before they left in search for better opportunities, having had served as a sailor before becoming the Master of Agriculture when they settled in Wallano. He oversaw their plantations like the most profitable ones like cinnamon, tobacco and pepper alongside their food crops that fed Corinth and the few neighbouring Summer Islander villages.

On the other side of the table and sitting nearest to Aegon was Edwyn formerly Rivers, now of House Hestatis, and was the Grand Scholar of Corinth.

Edwyn, a former acolyte of Elysar and whom Aegon had spent much time with when he'd been a boy, was a man whose duties were too many to list and was by and large the man who Aegon valued the most amongst their people.

At times, she wondered if he pressed Edwyn to marry Clarissa, a dragonseed girl, just so that his friend's line wouldn't end.

Beside Edwyn was Tregyn Fororlan, a Volantene alchemist. He was the Master of the Mysteries, or as their people called him the Prince's Warlock.

It was not an undue name. Out of the four alchemists Aegon managed to coax out of Volantis on the return journey to Dragonstone after winning Prince Jalla's seat back, Fororlan was the most capable…and by far the most dangerous.

She did not like the man and his piercing dark blue eyes that looked almost dark violet under certain lights, did not settle her.

Aegon knew of her dislike and suspicions of the man and though he never dismissed them, she knew that until the man gave reasons beyond ill feelings, that Aegon would not cast him out. Aegon valued the man too much and she grudgingly had to admit that the alchemist was undeniably valuable…at least to Aegon.

Their progress in the arcane proven that much.

The other two seats were filled by Galaenys Qargaris and Maerro Calneareon, Aegon's commanders for the royal army that was five thousand strong. They also oversaw the training of the commonfolk who were required to learn how to fight by Aegon's decree.

She herself was here not only as Lady of Corinth but also as the steward of her family and that of Corinth. It started back on Dragonstone where Aegon had encouraged her to be well versed and be as capable as any in the matters of budget, coin and accounts.

There were many evenings on Dragonstone where she'd sat and listened and learned and was tested on accounts and numbers and balances, and had not felt such high demands on her since she'd been ten namedays old and even then, it had not compared to what Aegon had asked of her.

It paid off, of course. So few people who'd left with them from Westeros were trained in any form of stewardship since nearly none had noble bearings of import and not just anyone could be trusted in such matters of wealth and coin.

"Baerros." Aegon began as they settled within the council chambers, his low rumbling voice naturally drew all attention towards him. His mismatching eyes bore down onto Baerros who bowed his head under her husband's gaze.

There were not many could hold her husband's gaze.

Her husband had only grown in the years they'd left, not only in physical stature but in presence as well.

The piercing gaze honed, the bearded face made of marble stone that accompanied a tall strong frame that reminded her so much of Aemon who'd always seemed like a mountain to her growing up, created an air about Aegon that made people naturally defer to him. The whispers of the Conqueror reborn amongst the Dragonstone faithful were not made without support.

If only those were the only whispers that were uttered amongst their people.

"My Prince." Sallan Baerros answered as he straightened out a little.

Sallan Baerros was a dark-haired clean-faced man with dull brown-green eyes.

Baerros, a man in his mid-twenties and of short stature and of thin frame, was a forgettable looking olive-skinned man at first and even with a second glance.

Yet it was neither his physique or his plain looks or his bloodline that made the man a valued member of the Council, no, it was his mind for the art of Trade and his knack for being able to deliver or provide what Aegon wanted without fail.

Baerros had joined them on Dragonstone in 102 AC by paying a due on one of the rare few caravan missions they'd sent to Norvos and Qohor after the then nine and ten years of age Baerros had run afoul of both his patriarch and one of the leading noble families which holds deep ties to the theocratic leadership of the Free City.

Norvos was a queer place, where priests ruled the Free City and held the citizenry accountable to their faith and anyone charged with breaching covenant with the faith, was either punished through whipping or put to death should the crime be deemed only payable by death.

And had Baerros stayed, he'd been whipped many times after his crimes that the man had confessed to her, and then later, Aegon.

Baerros participated in a scheme to sell textiles with the branding that belonged to the most renowned textile producing families to the other cities, earning a fortune by the time he was nine and ten years of age.

Unfortunately for him and his compatriots, the patriarch of his House was not at all pleased when he caught wind of it and outed Sallan to the patriarch of the Naeraan family, the family who Sallan had gravely slighted.

According to Sallan, he'd made the mistake of paying his dues to the patriarch of his House, as was custom, and it was what started the inquisition that led to the downfall of their dishonest scheme – and Sallan's exile of his homeland.

Sallan had been sentenced to thirty lashes and the confiscation of his ill earnings, a sentence that his compatriots earned too as killing them would have had political ramifications for they too were of noble bearings even if most of them were only of branch Houses, but Sallan had known that it was only a matter of time before he found himself dead, either at the hands of the former compatriots or at the hands of the Naeraan family they'd wronged.

And so he left with the trade caravan that was heading to Braavos before joining them on the seaward journey to Dragonstone after having conversed with Aegon's traders for many moons, having decided that he could find a place there.

Gael was quite certain now that it was more that he feared that they could reach him and kill him in Braavos whereas at Dragonstone they'd be more likely to refrain from sending cutthroats.

Sallan Baeros arrived during Aegon's journey to Walano and sought audience with her. She found him desperate but she'd given him a chance and it was a chance that he'd taken with both of his hands.

He'd proven his worth to her with his knowledge of the trade webs that existed within the Free Cities and when Aegon returned, the man only continued to prove his worth by succeeding when most would fail. And now that man was the Master of Trade and had helped to grow their trade routes substantially.

Baerros continued with a pleased note to his voice "The goods and coins carried by the first fleet returning from the trade mission to the Far East has been tallied in full." Sallan Baerros paused for a moment before a satisfied smile grew on his face.

Interest peaked amongst some of the council members.

The journeys to Yi Ti and Leng the fleets were returning from were the first in a series of planned trade missions planned. The return was slightly delayed – they had to send a ship to Old Ghis, one of the planned stops the fleet went to before coming directly to Port Corinth, and warn them – but nevertheless everyone was curious to see how well it has performed.

Most of their trading over the past two years were consigned to Volantis and its towns, Lys and reluctantly the Slaver's Bay cities, who had an appetite for spices, specifically the spices nutmeg and cinnamon.

And surprisingly for tobacco, a kind of herb that grew on the Isle of Women that when dried and its smoke inhaled gave a mild pleasant effect which was becoming popular amongst the noble families in cities like Astopor and Yunkai.

The textiles and porcelain they traded since 100 AC was still an important part of their trade, two trades that employed most of the Dragonstone women, but now spices and herbs made up a larger and larger portion of their trade.

With Port Corinth situated some five miles inland from the mouth of the river Walu, south east of Tall Trees Town and the surrounding lands, which was thinly populated compared to the more populated north, under their control by verdict of Prince Jalla, in payment of Aegon's services rendered in retaking Walano from his usurping uncle, they were able to grow much in the fertile lands, especially with the successful techniques Aegon, Bodrin and Edwyn had developed which needed only a sixth of the town to farm.

More would have been needed but with agreement with Prince Jalla and the villages nearby, Corinth would build homes and roads using the liquid stone and employ the local Summer Islanders along with sharing the greater yield producing farming techniques with the rest of Walano. Thus far it has been a fruitful partnership.

Wheat, grain, fruits and vegetables were all growing plentiful on the farms inland to Corinth but beside them were also the plantations that in majority grew cinnamon, nutmeg and tobacco and it was what they traded the most.

They made much profit from these routes though they hardly used the income of the trading beyond the purchase of necessities like the materials Corinth needed for building or iron for the crafting of armour and weapons.

Three-fifths of the population were former slaves and four-fifths of them were under the age of twenty who'd known not any life but slavery.

Their needs were not many and their needs were supported by herself and Aegon along with the people of Dragonstone who took in the youngest children into their homes whilst the older freed slaves were supported by the wider community, be it employment or rehabilitation, and it all helped to forge a close bond between the kin of Valyria.

And when it came time to purchase the freedoms of slaves from Lys, the income from the Braavosi glass industry – the Braavosi now sold glassware as far as Yi Ti despite the blockade – was more than enough to cover those needs.

At least for now as the prices of slaves was increasing every trip to Lys, as a consequence of demand but also because of the war itself.

Yet, it was necessary to keep paying those prices.

Whether it would be West or East or even if they stayed, it was necessary that they had many people with them, in order to sustain the growth of their people.

They wanted at least two to five thousand people every year to sustain their growth – which would go up when it came time to settle their new permanent home.

She also agreed with Aegon's insistence that they focus on purchasing the freedoms of young slaves of Valyrian descent who could be helped and as much as she hated to say it, could be the most useful for their growing people.

But it had consequences for it was getting harder to simply rely on the income of the glass industry which also carried a risk of becoming useless if Braavos and the Triarchy truly begin to war since it would mean that the Iron Bank would not be able to function as an intermediary as it was now.

The Lyseni already grumble about having to be paid via the Iron Bank now as it was.

And if there was open war?

It was why the success of the first trading fleets to the East was so important.

And thankfully…

It was.

"Twenty-three thousand gold coins and ninety-four thousand silver coins." Gael answered succinctly causing a few of the council members to murmur appreciatively.

"And that is after the purchase of hundred and twenty pouches saffron and thirty bolts of silk and a dozen other spices, each well over four dozen bags each." Gael continued, this time shocking the men in the room, save for Aegon and Baerros.

She understood their reactions.

One pouch of Yi-Tish saffron, famed for its quality, could fetch 400 gold coins.

And the most pleasing part was that the two other trade flotillas had yet to arrive, with one flotilla carrying strange seeds and produce from the lands beyond Asshai.

"That is…unexpected, my Prince." Edwyn said reservedly but the surprise and curiosity was etched into his face as his eyes darted to her and Baerros.

She gestured Baerros to answer Edwyn's not-so-hidden question.

Baerros began to speak "We underestimated the demand for gemstones in Yi Ti, especially the light violet gemstones." Baerros shook his head.

"We sold a third of our stock of the gemstones before one of the more attentive traders realised the Yi-Tish were far more interested in the pale violet gemstones than the usually more desired rubies. By the time the stock was depleted, the last quarter of the stock were sold at eight times the value of the rubies."

The light violet gemstones were amongst the more common types of gemstones found around the river streams and mountains and caves of Walano. They were pink-ish in hue, a very light violet, and often ignored for the more radiant gemstones found in Walano and around the other large Summer Isles islands.

Typically, only the lesser well off natives of the Isles used it for jewellery.

"I have already given the order to purchase as much of the gemstones as we can from Tall Trees Town and the surrounding towns and villages." Aegon told the council before setting his gaze onto Stally "When will the fleet be ready to sail again?"

Stally considered it for a moment. "They can leave tomorrow if they needed to. Provisions can be replenished today and the ships are in good conditions."

The ships they sent to the Far East and beyond were of a larger variety built from the red oak trees that grew plentiful on the island of Koj, and were the fruits of experimentations the shipwrights and Aegon had done for years as they sought to build sturdier ships like the Ibbanese whaling ships.

"Speak with the crew and find out which ones would be willing to depart within half a moon's time. The trade ships from Omboru are set to return any day now. We can re-crew the ships with men from those ships should it be needed."

"As you command, my Prince." Stally said with a bowed head.

"My Prince." Tregyn Fororlan directed towards Aegon as he spoke with curious eyes. "If I may ask…what is urgency?"

Doubtlessly wondering why they were sending ships to Yi Ti given the pirate problem.

Aegon glanced at Baerros briefly before he answered. "The captains have heard stirrings that there may be a major war amongst the Yi-Tish in the near future."

Aegon's expression was stoic but it didn't fool her. She'd seen the unbridled interest in his eyes when the captains debriefed with Aegon and herself.

She hoped it was only interest.

At times, she'd see him working away on something distractedly after meetings with the captains which happened often and she could almost reach into his mind and see the ruins and cities and peoples the captains described to her husband, and she'd often wondered if it was enough for him to hear stories from their people instead of being there, exploring those parts of the world and…

She'd often feared it wouldn't be.

It was bad enough that he'd be gone for likely a year or more soon if she was lucky and she couldn't bear to see him gone to the other side of world to Yi Ti.

"A major war? It has been over two centuries since a major war broke out in Yi-Ti and it resulted in the rise of the Azure dynasty." Edwyn mused ponderously with a frown before looking up to Aegon.

"How reliable is the information? The Yi-Tish are known to have conflicts within themselves that others would name war but them it is nothing but the same kind of squabbles the Blackwoods and the Brackens are infamous for."

"Reliable." Gael interjected and all eyes fell on her.

"It originated from Captain Jullen."

Edwyn's eyes widened mildly before he nodded in understanding. Captain Jullen was amongst the most reliable men they had. One of the first men Aegon had trained as a sailor over a decade ago, his loyalty to her family was absolute.

He'd not bring them wrong information even if his life depended on it.

Besides, Gael thought a little cynically to herself, the two trade flotillas that were returning any day now from Farther East, beyond Asshai, would be there to either corroborate or deny his affirmation.

He'd be foolish to lie to them.

Aegon picked up from where she left and continued "The eleventh Azure Emperor's situation is precarious. His sole male heir is but a child of two and the Emperor's health is declining. From what the rumours are amongst the traders at Yin, it is only a matter of time before he is forced to act to secure his heir's right to the throne against his cousins."

"So we seek to extract as much wealth as we can while we can?" Fororlan questioned though it was more of a statement now that he knew the situation.

"Yes." Aegon answered simply as he levelled his gaze to Fororlan.

"As wealthy as Yi Ti is, even for the likes of them, wealth and appetite can dry up in a civil war." The way Aegon said war was not unnoticed by the commanders nor Edwyn or the alchemist.

The conversation then turned away from the talk of distant war though the undercurrent of tension remained as they turned towards the material needs of the builders and the shipwrights as the port where most of their ships docked would need expansion in two years' time if they were to keep up with enough space for the ships planned to be built along with the materials for the ships themselves.

Aegon told them to create a list and dismissed all but Edwyn, Fororlan, Galaenys Qargaris and Maerro Calneareon.

"Ser Maerro." Aegon's voice was sharp and his expression as hard as steel as he spoke up not a moment after the doors were closed.

"If I called up the men tomorrow, would they be ready?"

"Yes my Prince." Ser Maerro said confidently as he straightened up and shared a glance with Ser Galaenys. "The men are well trained and they are adept at fighting at sea as well as on land." Ser Maerro paused for a moment "The majority are very green however. Even the formerly hedge knights."

Aegon nodded slightly as he stood up. "To be expected with the Long Peace and that of our own." He turned his back towards the council table for a long few moments as he faced towards the window that overlooked the town of Corinth.

"Increase the training intensity. We will depart in a fortnight." Aegon said finally before he turned around, his expression set in marble stone. Galaenys and Maerro hid it well but she could see their hunger for glory and battle.

A hunger that she knew that many of the other knights that left with them also felt.

Wives and children did little to cool the blood of men, she thought exasperatedly. They may claim that they felt aggrieved by the actions of the pirates, but they fooled no one.

"My Prince. Will you need Wildfyre?" Fororlan questioned with intense interest.

She turned her gaze towards Aegon and though she hid it, she felt concern growing. Wildfyre was not to be taken lightly and its volatility was infamous. She knew her husband said that they were getting somewhere but she doubted it was enough.

But unfortunately, she knew that her husband and their men would need every advantage if they wanted to end the threat of this Pirate King.

Aegon veered his gaze towards Fororlan before turning his gaze towards Edwyn who nodded cautiously her husband's silent question and answered.

"We can mount sixteen of the modified Scorpions to the ships."

"How many Jar-Bolts?" Fororlan asked Edwyn.

"Some few hundreds in the holds. We can possibly make another hundred more in a fortnight." Edwyn said after a few moments of consideration.

"Make it so." Her husband ordered and Edwyn nodded. He then turned his gaze towards Fororlan "Prepare what you need. You and the acolytes be coming with us"

This surprised Fororlan "I'm not a fighter." He pointed out the obvious.

"No one is. Not until they have to be. "Aegon's face descended into a chilling look. "You and your men know Wildfyre. Who better to ensure our ships firing it don't burn down?" he intend firmly and soon afterwards, she was left alone with Aegon in the council chambers and once they were alone he moved closer to the glassless window.

She watched him silently as she stood next to him. Aegon had his hands on top of the bottom rim of the window, his eyes staring out towards the town.

She followed his gaze and looked out as well.

The town was built of grey stone and grey liquid stone though the buildings and town were a summery rustic red. The Summer Islanders made the paint from the shell of some kind of snail that was plentiful on Walano and paint their homes with it. It felt only right to respect that tradition when it was explained to them.

The building they were in now was their stronghold and their home and was built on top of one of the larger hills in the area on the eastern side of the river. The dragonpit, if one could call the open roofed extension to the stronghold a dragonpit, was guarded by several dozen guardsmen and tended to by the dragonkeepers and their apprentices whilst leading to hers and her children's apartment rooms.

Whilst the town below was nestled in between four other hills. One hill where the Fororlan and his alchemists and their apprentices studied the higher mysteries, another hill where the garrisons was positioned with another hill had the school for the children of Corinth and the neighbouring villages placed.

The last hill – and the smallest – was not used though depending on how long it would take for them to find a more permanent home, there were some ideas on what to build upon it.

The main port open only to their ships, or that of Prince Jalla's, was situated on the banks of the river at its widest, a mile or so downstream and was the first line of defence for their town.

It wasn't completely defensible but they did not need it to be, at least not yet.

She sighed inaudibly as she gazed beyond the town.

The town had grown so much in only five years. Only five years ago this was naught but overgrown hilly grasslands far away from any large settlement. And now…

And now it was home to over forty five thousand people.

Home not only to the former people of Dragonstone or freed slaves but also to some thousand Summer Islanders and also to freedmen families that left Volantis and Lys in search of a better life with them.

The sounds of distant twin roars filled the skies and she turned her gaze towards the sight of two large silhouettes growing larger by the second.

"They're coming back from their hunts." Aegon said, capturing her attentions and she turned to him and saw his faint smile underneath that beard of his.

He gestured with his hand towards them "They've both captured hunting whales."

She blinked before she turned her gaze towards their dragons, her eyes squinting. She could see it now. In the claws of their hind legs. "Impressive" she murmured though not without a fond smile that stretched across her face.

She envied Aegon's ability to connect to Mīsaragorn in the way that he did, the ability for dragon and rider to send sight to one another like they did so often.

Still, she thought to herself, she was happy enough with her bond with Liāzmariña, a bond that let her feel the strongest wants of Liāzmariña in the same way Liāzmariña felt hers.

She felt his calloused hand on top of hers and she closed her eyes momentarily as she leaned into him. She felt his arms wrap around him and she sighed.

She knew it needed to be done.

'To destroy them and everything in those damned isles in such a way none would dare strike against us or harm our people' he'd said to her when they learned of the plots against them and she agreed wholeheartedly.

This was not a kind world. It could be cruel and harsh and she knew that at times one must be harsh and cruel in order to live in peace. She hated that it was needed.

"Come back to me" she whispered against him, her eyes remaining closed.

She felt him kiss the top of her head.

"Nothing will be able to stop me." He promised her.

-Break-

Sallesso Sanohrin POV

He sat against the back of the wall, the sound of distant water dripping and the faint voices of his captors the only break of the eerie silence that descended upon him.

He was starting to miss the screams of his men.

For the past fortnight, mayhaps longer, it's all he'd known.

Their screams and pleads.

Now there was silence.

Unfortunately for him, he was likely the last of his men still alive which meant nothing good for him. He knew that they wanted him alive. Not tortured.

He thanked the Gods for that.

He did not know why and that bothered him almost as much as knowing that his chances of escaping this hellhole was unlikely.

They'd tried a few times. When they were still strong and numerous. But the iron bars proved difficult to overcome and the guards too attentive to miss anything. Anyone caught with something, even as small as a nail was not seen again.

The death knell came when they'd learned that they were deep underground making any grinding out the walls pointless. They were stuck and nothing could change.

…

"Up" he heard bellowed out and clanged against the iron bars with the back of the dagger, waking him violently. He glared at the bastard guard who'd done it, Lerris he heard being named by the other bastard guards.

"Ah, Lerris, here to unload my shit? 'bout time, it was starting to stink up the place." Sallesso voiced out in a groan as he got stiffly and weakly from the uneven floor, unable to resist to irritate the bastard.

It was the only thing he had left after all.

Lerris jutted his jaw and Sallesso could see that he wanted to hit him. But he won't. He's one of the more restrained bastard guards. Which was why he did it.

"Move." The guard beside Lerris growled out and he sighed before he lazily extended out his arms that had red rings around his wrists.

The walk was quiet, tense even and it did little to calm his nerves.

Finally, they arrived and the door swung up and he was pushed into the chamber but he came to a stop with one of their hands on his back, his noise picking up the familiar smell of death.

He looked up and saw a naked man hung from the ceiling, his body brutalised with cuts and slashes that crisscrossed one another like a chaotic pattern of woven tapestries, bloody ret cuts and clotted black wounds.

The fires of fear grew mountain high.

His eyes widened when he recognised the tattoo that marked the arm and he realised that it was Jaqos, the Captain of the Haunt. How long did they have him?

He turned his gaze towards the man who sat right in front of the breathing corpse of Jaqos, a muscular Valyrian man with a dagger on his lap, the kind of Valyrian that would fetch good coin in Lys yet the expression on the man's face stilled him from making a lewd comment.

The Dragon Prince's expression somehow managed to be cold, harsh, monstrous yet if his face was set in dead white stone, it was his queer eyes that blazed an inferno of fear within him as they bore down on him alive with fury and fire.

His heart began to beat fast in his chest as fear began to creep inside of him as he realised that it might well be his fate soon.

He was pushed further and tied to the chair, the ropes bit into his wrists and ankles, and he observed with anxious silence how quiet and efficient the guards were and it wasn't long before he was left alone with the corpse and presumably the Dragon Prince of the Summer Isles.

A pained and weak moan escaped through the mouth of Jaqos, a moan that had rasping qualities to it and he thought he might have heard him try say something.

"You recognise him, don't you?" the Dragon Prince asked, his face barely moving as he broke the silence before beginning to sharpen the dagger with a whetstone, the sharp whistling sounds of steel against stone echoing against the stone walls.

"Yes" he answered, the candle fire of fear growing with each passing moment.

He knew that lying about this wouldn't do him any favours and the fires of fear that was welling within him was preventing him to even think about it.

His eyes darted to Jaqos once more, the fires of fear growing in strength.

How long has the poor bastard been in this situation?

Must have been weeks.

Was that going to be his fate?

"I despise slavery" the Dragon Prince said after what seemed an age yet he did not look up as he continued to sharpen his dagger unnervingly.

"It is a practice that illuminates unfavourably the capricious nature of humankind, of what we are able to commit at our most savage and unflattering moments." the Dragon Prince said as he dragged the whetstone across the dagger sharply and strongly causing a loud and continuous whistling.

Yet, he wondered, as his eyes darted to the body that hung from hook and to the sharpening dagger. What would he call what he was doing to that man?

The Dragon Prince paused in his sharpening of his dagger and looked up and he struggled to keep calm under the cold mismatching eyes that seemed to bore down to his very soul, looking at him, studying him and he felt as if he was found wanting.

"But I know that to do beyond what I am doing is folly" the Dragon Prince said to him, his tone calm but he felt as if there were undertones of a brewing storm in there.

"I am not blind to the realities of things nor am I interested in bathing Essos with rivers of blood that I'd need to spill in order to pull out the roots of slavery once and for all" the Dragon Prince told him calmly.

The Dragon Prince learned forward and for a moment, he thought he could see a violet flame dancing in the Prince's eyes.

"However…" the Dragon Prince's voice turned low, almost akin to a low sounding growl and it sent shivers down his spine. "I am interested in the fate of my people."

"A trade ship of ours never came back." The Dragon Prince said with an intensity in his mismatching eyes as he stared into him. "And then another never came back."

The Dragon Prince leaned back slightly, his fingers coldly and slowly tracing across the sharp edge of the blade all whilst staring at him.

"We wondered what might have happened…mayhaps they were caught up in a storm and were destroyed. We discovered otherwise." The Dragon Prince said in a conversational manner yet every part of his body tingled with danger heightened by fear.

"Instead, we learn that they were captured." the Dragon Prince gestured towards the hanged man before levelling a look once more at him, his expression hard and unforgiving. "A fortuitous event, I must say. Had we not become suspicious and decided to increase protections, we may not have been able to repel your friend's attack." A cold smile formed on his face. "Or yours."

"And we might not have learned who was responsible and what the fate of our people is…." The Dragon Prince stared at him with arctic coldness as he got up and stood beside Jaqos.

"my people." The Dragon Prince said with a thin smile that mirrored more like a smile a serpent may give. The Dragon Prince drew back and turned around and stuck the blade into Jaqos' side and slowly pushed in, causing the Jaqos to moan in pain.

The Dragon Prince then pressed his finger deeply into a gaping hole in the poor bastard's torso and elicited pained weak cries from him.

"Jaqos Sorrah" the Dragon Prince said with a deathly calm, a tone of voice that poured ice down his spine as Jaqos cried out in agony.

"Life was good for Jaqos Sorrah. Very good. He had coin. He made a name for himself. He had slaves that did all of his bidding. And a ship of his own. Life was very good for Jaqos Sorrah." The Dragon Prince continued with a tone of voice that was still as the sea on a perfect day whilst he begun to dig in his hand into the growing gaping hole, the pain weak cries grew to greater strength.

"Until he decided to attack my ships and enslave my people. Like his fellows had already done to two of my ships."

"I don't know where they are" he said with urgency after he wetted his lips nervously, his eyes darted between the Dragon Prince and the dagger. He didn't.

Truly.

They could be anywhere now in Essos.

They were as good as dead.

"But I can tell you everything I do know" he offered instead.

"Your Friend was kind enough to offer everything he knows in the same way you are now." The Dragon Prince said as he levelled his cold look towards Sallesso.

"He often lied."

The Dragon Prince smiled with a wicked cruelty.

"He was more truthful after a few weeks of persuasion."

Sallesso swallowed dryly. He knew then that nothing he could say would save him from a gruesome end. The Dragon Prince then stepped away from Jaqos and loudly dragged the chair and sat opposite him, his cold piercing gaze set upon Sallesso.

"You're going to die." The Dragon Prince told him calmly, as if one was discussing what to eat to break the morning fast.

He swallowed dryly.

The Dragon Prince continued, and radiated menace as he spoke.

"The choice you have now…is how you die. You can die quickly, you will have my word on that, or you can die slowly every week until you're no more but a shell made of ripped dying flesh. But you won't die then. No."

"You see…I find myself still terribly wroth. Your friend was not enough to lighten the retribution that I feel burning within me." The Dragon Prince said with a cold smile and when he continued, he continued in a low deathly calm voice.

"Once you are no more than a shell, your mind lost, I will begin to cut parts of your body and have you healed so that you do not die of blood loss. Your feet will be first. Then your hands. Then your arms and your legs until nothing but your head and your torso remains. Only then shall you be permitted to die out of starvation."

"You're mad." Sallesso choked out in horror.

The Dragon Prince gave a chilling smile.

"What is your choice?"

…

He wasn't sure how long he was talking but he knew it was a long time. He said everything he knew, about the pirate forts and dens he knew, the number of men he estimated Saathos Saan, the Pirate King, to have, everything.

The fear of being caught out on a lie, the fear of saying anything that might run false with what Jarqo had said was too high and by the time he was done speaking, his throat had hurt.

The Dragon Prince got up began to walk towards him and he stiffened until he relaxed slightly as he watched the Dragon Prince walk pas-

Aegon Targaryen POV

His hand was clenching tightly on the hilt of the dagger as he buried it just below the nape of the neck and in between two of the vertebrae. A quick death as promised.

Aegon pulled the dagger out, the blood that ran across the edge of the dagger splattered against the floor. Aegon spared Sallesso one last glance before he turned and walked towards the dying Jaqos.

He plunged the dagger into the pirate's heart with a dismissive care and the man wheezily breathed twice more before he was dead. The hole he'd dug in the man's torso wouldn't kill him fast enough. He'd served his purpose.

Aegon walked back towards the closed door and banged against it.

The door opened by his watchful guards and saw their gazes wonder to the corpses inside. "Are the rest of the prisoners dead?" he asked his guards.

"Yes, my Prince. None of the prisoners still live." One of the guards answered.

Aegon nodded. "Burn the corpses and have the ashes spread across the grazing fields." In death, they'll do something useful for once in their lives.

"My Prince." The guards acknowledged his order with a bow and soon enough he was out of the gloomy hole of a prison that stank of blood and rot.

There had been no need for him to be there. Trytas could have made him sing without having to torture him. And truthfully, it had been a worthless exercise.

The pirate crew and Jaqos, most of whom they tortured and the others questioned with the threat of torture, had been enough for them to paint an accurate picture of what and who they were dealing with.

As much as it pleased him to kill one of the bastards who was working to destroy what he was building, it was not his motivation.

No, his motivation were for his men to see them dead.

Killed by his hands.

The pirates' attacks on their people was a slight and for some it was a personal slight.

Everyone knew each other and their loss was personal to everyone.

He needed to show them his anger, his fury, that he was every bit as angry as they were – and he was – for it was likely some of their people were lost, likely forever.

And he was not going to forgive that.

They were his people. They chose him.

They believed that he was a better option for them than the safety of Dragonstone.

They believed in his words, in his certainty that there is lands West, good and fertile lands were they could grow and prosper and live in peace.

He owed them safety and prosperity.

And now…

Some of them would experience a fate he considered worse than death.

And it was because of him that they were in that situation.

It was because of them that they lost their freedoms.

To say he was angry would be understating it. He was apoplectic.

How fucking dare they?!

His expression was cold, stone cold but within him raged a burning inferno that he wanted to fucking unleash. He knew why this was happening. It wasn't the pirates acting on their own initiatives, not when they hadn't touched his ships before.

The pirates themselves confirmed that.

And he knew exactly the reason why.

It wasn't because of a few hundred fucking unrestful knights he sent to Daemon nor did the Triarchy believe that attacking his ships would affect Daemon and his cause.

No, this was fucking Myr acting out and who were monumentally pissed that Braavos was outcompeting them with the production of superior glass and they found out that it was he that was the reason why it was happening in the first place.

Aegon set his jaw, the blinding rage settling down into cold analytical fury.

He couldn't directly attack Myr, as much as he wanted to. Not yet.

He wouldn't be able to burn down more than a quarter of the city with Mīsaragorn nor could he sack the city without losing too many of his men.

No, he and his people were too weak right now, as much as he hated to admit it yet all of it could not remain unanswered lest it invite more attacks.

And he knew how to do send that message.

Aegon clenched his jaws in cold fury.

It would be a tedious and difficult game of Whac-A-Mole, but if he acted fast enough, and hard enough, he'd be able to get rid of the leadership and clear out most of the pirate towns before sitting back, and let the damn Basilisk Isles descend into chaos as they murder each other for the honour of being the next King of the pirates.

He unclenched his jaw as a frigid calm descended upon him.

And he'd do it the right way, the only fucking way these people would understand.

With fire and blood and fucking slaughter.

-Break-

108 AC – ?

Bryce Arenter POV

The gentle swaying of the ship was soothing and his quill flew across the pages of his diary, something that had not happened for him for many, many days.

The seas had heaved and rocked sometimes days on end, powerful waves sent crashing against the hulls of their ships that caused Bryce searching the skies and praying to the Seven that they remain cloudless.

He honestly believed that should a storm hit, not even their thick hulled ships could survive against such powerful waves.

Thank the Seven, for over four moons, his prayers to the Seven had paid off.

But they also had to change their routes. The waters in these parts were strange and dangerous. They pushed them backwards in ways he had not experienced before and in some instances they could days, even weeks, with still winds and still ocean.

Truly, if they had not the larger and the numerous smaller sails, he would have thought it likely that they may even have sailed backwards even if the winds had been favourable.

They had to find a different route than the straight line they'd been travelling on and they found it. They had to sail a few degrees off of north-north-west before turning south like the curve of a bow. The waters did not fight against them in this way and it seemed like the winds were more constant as they bowed south.

He was not sure how far they'd travelled, whether it was three or four moons sail, but he knew they were far from any known parts of the world.

And yet there was no land.

Some of the sailors thought that mayhaps this was where the world was ending, that they were heading towards the cliff of the world and damning themselves to the Seven hells. He'd put a quick stop to that.

Damn fools.

He'd punished them, severely, and there was not a peep from them since.

Still.

Had it not been for their well stocked provisions and the giant turtles they'd taken with them to eat from the Targaryen Islands, he might not have been so sure they'd keep silence and incite mutiny. He grimaced as he paused in his writing.

They had three, maybe four moons' worth of provisions.

The Lady Dawn was about the same too. Mayhaps they could extent the provisions seven moons if he began rationing now. But their dried lemon fruits were dwindling which according to the prince staved off scurvy. So far it seemed to be right. He only hoped they wouldn't need to ration. He begun to write again.

It was not yet time to think of rationing, he reasoned to himself.

Not yet.

It was hours later that he heard quick steps grow louder.

The door slammed open and the four and ten boy Tobin was out of breath.

"Cap'ain! Cap'ain! Lnd 'Hoy! Linda Hoy!"

"BOY!" Bryce growled out in anger as he got up.

"What nonsense are you talking about?!"

The boy, took in a deep breath before saying the words that stopped him still.

"Land Ahoy!" Tobin said with a wide grin as he continued to heave in and out.

Faster than he thought his old bones could move, he walk-ran to the deck.

"Gimme the Far-Eye" he said to no one in particular as he squinted his eyes towards the distance but soon enough a Far-Eye fell into his hand and he looked.

And there it was, he thought with amazement.

He couldn't see how large it was, only that it peaked out fairly tall, mayhaps it was mountainous, but he cared not. Because…

Finally, after so many moons, they found land West of the Summer Isles.