Dance of the Dragonborn

by SlumberingVoid

Lady Eurwen is an Altmer who serves the Seven Kingdoms as Royal Battlemage and Mistress of the Arcane, maintaining strict neutrality and remaining above politics. Yet as she navigates the uneasy waters that form in the run-up to the Dance of Dragons, said neutrality becomes that much harder to maintain... Intended as a fix-it/crossover fic of The House of the Dragon.

2. Chapter 2

Right, so I'm not really the best at using this site so it probably won't be very neat here.

It was funny how in the aftermath of an event of momentous historical note, life just went on as normal. It had been almost seven months since Princess Rhaenyra's investiture as heir to the Iron Throne, an event unsurpassed in the history of the unified Seven Kingdoms (which wasn't that long, in fairness, at a mere 112 years) but once the pageantry was over, everyone had gone back to work as normal. This was especially surprising given the news that came by raven less than a week after the ceremony, announcing that Prince Daemon had occupied Dragonstone, traditionally the seat of the heir, with a large contingent of his City Watch soldiers after departing the capital on his dragon, Caraxes. Such an act of brazen disrespect towards the Crown and the newly appointed heir would normally have warranted an immediate and harsh response (banishment on pain of death, most likely) but King Viserys had elected to ignore his impudent, impertinent brother, dismissing it as little more than a tantrum. Eurwen was not convinced that this was a wise course of action; Daemon was not one who took well to being ignored and if this act failed to garner a proper response, he would probably do something that could not be ignored.

In the meantime, tragedy had struck recently; Ser Ryam Redwyne, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, one-time Hand of the King (which he'd been horrible at) and a venerable knight who had served the white cloaks when Jaehaerys the Old was Jaehaerys the Young, passed in his sleep after suffering a long illness. It wasn't a big surprise, as the man had been approaching his eighties and had been showing signs of flagging before then, but still a sad one. Eurwen had personally overseen his funeral arrangements and dispatched his body to be buried in the Arbor on her own personal barge, as befitted such a long-standing colleague.

"Ser Ryam's body should be back in the Arbor within two weeks." she reported to the Small Council.

"Thank you, Lady Eurwen." King Viserys replied. "Ser Ryam was a fine knight of the Kingsguard, but he was old. I only hope his passing was peaceful?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Eurwen replied. "I had hoped my tonic might help him recover, but it was not to be and I found he had slipped away in his sleep when I went to check on him the next morning."

"Such a shame that your tonic did not work, my lady." remarked Otto Hightower. "First the late queen, now Ser Ryam. Your track record has not been very good recently."

Eurwen glared at him. The simple fact was that Restoration was easily the trickiest magic school and even bonafide masters of the school could not save everyone; manipulating the very energies of life was no easy matter and sometimes, there was just nothing you could do.

"Otto, Lady Eurwen is the best in her field. If she could not save a person from their fate, then they could not be saved." said the King severely. "It was Ser Ryam's time, as much as it grieves me to say."

"As you say, Your Grace." said Otto Hightower. "But with Lady Eurwen's failure, it does leave the Kingsguard bereft of its full complement of seven knights and weakens your security."

"Which our new Lord Commander will be rectifying as soon as possible." Eurwen replied.

Ser Harrold Westerling had been shouldering many of Ser Ryam's duties as the older knight's health failed and this, coupled with the fact that he was the second most senior knight on the roster, meant that he was naturally the best candidate for Lord Commander. Otto Hightower had been the only one resistant to the idea for some reason, citing Ser Harrold's advanced age and advocating for either Willis Fell or Rickard Thorne since they were younger and probably less likely to die in office, but the rest of the Council had overruled him and Ser Harrold had been chosen.

"Indeed, Lady Eurwen," said the new Lord Commander. "I have invited a number of fine candidates to court as recommended by the Lord Hand to be presented."

"We'll see them after the meeting, Lord Commander." Eurwen said. "Now, Lord Beesbury, you mentioned tax discrepancies from House Peake at the last meeting. Have you had any further progress in verifying that?"

Before the Master of Coin could reply, the chamber doors opened and Lord Corlys strode in, looking furious.

"Four ships have now been lost in the Stepstones!" he burst out without preamble. "The last one flying my banner! Four ships, nearly 200 men and tons of precious cargo lost to the Crabfeeder and here you sit and dither about court business!"

"Really, Lord Corlys, you cannot just storm into a meeting and burst out like this!" Otto Hightower exclaimed. "If you have a matter to discuss, take your seat and wait your turn like a civilised-"

"I have come to inform you of a present and deadly threat to our economic stability that must be dealt with immediately!" replied Lord Corlys. "My ships and men have been attacked and-"

"The Crown will compensate you for your losses, Lord Corlys, but if you cannot behave in a manner befitting your status then you will be removed from this room." said the Hand of the King.

Lord Corlys gave him a withering look.

"I don't want payments and platitudes," he scoffed. "I want leave to take my fleet to the Stepstones and burn this Crabfeeder out!"

"Start a war with the Free Cities, you mean?" asked the King in a tone of surprise. "No. No, that I will not do."

"These pirates are not the Free Cities, Your Grace." Lord Corlys replied.

"Who do you think provides them with their ships and tender?" countered King Viserys.

"I agree with the King," interjected Lord Beesbury. "In all of its history, the Seven Kingdoms has never once entered open warfare with the Free Cities. The cost of doing so would be astronomical."

Lord Corlys looked at Eurwen, clearly seeking support, but she looked pensive.

"I agree with you in principle, Lord Corlys, but an out-and-out war with the Free Cities has never happened before." she said. "Even the theft of the three Dreamfyre eggs by Elissa Farman over fifty years ago did not provoke such action."

Lord Corlys growled in frustration.

"Four ships are just the beginning," he said. "And the more ships that are allowed to be plundered without protest, the bolder the pirates will get. Soon the Crabfeeder will be raiding our very shores, not our shipping lanes."

"You exaggerate, Lord Corlys." scoffed Otto Hightower.

"Do I? What reason does the Crabfeeder have to fear us?" Lord Corly asked the room at large. "Daemon has been allowed to seize the island of Dragonstone and fortify it with an army of his gold cloaks, essentially proclaiming himself to still be the heir in direct defiance of the king's new declaration. If such an act doesn't stir action, what reason does he have to be afraid of us?"

"Lord Corlys, you are overreaching yourself." Otto Hightower warned him. "A seat at the King's table does not make you his equal, I will remind you."

Eurwen glanced at him with an eyebrow raised, recalling how Otto had been very comfortable indeed taking over the king's duties when Jaehaerys was no longer capable and how forward he remained ever since. Quite a few of his actions could be considered overmighty, yet here he lambasted Lord Corlys for much the same.

"Perhaps there is a way we could deal with this Crabfeeder without it spilling into open warfare," she said.

"How so, Lady Eurwen?" asked the King.

"It is likely that the Crabfeeder and his men do receive support from the Free Cities," she replied, "but if we can convince them that he is more of a liability than an asset they might cut him loose."

"And how would we accomplish that?" asked Otto Hightower, sounding unconvinced.

"Simple. There are likely to be plenty within the Free Cities who would not desire war either, due to the damaging costs." Eurwen replied. "We gain their support and favour by implying that we see the Crabfeeder as rogue and offer to deal with him without bringing harm to any of the Free Cities. Basically, they gain plausible deniability and we remove this pirate scum from the waters."

Lord Corlys nodded in approval, but Otto Hightower again scoffed.

"A naive notion, Lady Eurwen." he said. "The Free Cities likely gain quite a bit from plundering our ships, why would they surrender their best naval commander on a platter to avoid war?"

"Then why are you so insistent on dismissing this threat even when you just admit that the Free Cities would benefit?" demanded Lord Corlys.

"Because, Lord Corlys, I do not intend on using my position on this council as a springboard for further wealth and prominence." replied Otto Hightower.

"Then perhaps we should-" Eurwen began, only to be interrupted by a small voice from the corner.

"You have dragons, Father."

All eyes turned to look at Princess Rhaenyra, who had been standing over by the table on which the wine was stored waiting for any councilmembers who needed a refill of their goblets. She shifted slightly under all the looks she was getting from the most powerful people in the realm, but continued speaking.

"Nothing can stand against dragons," she went on. "And House Targaryen has the only ones in the world, apart from Meleys and Seasmoke, of course."

"Rhaenyra, I understand your train of thought but there are only two dragons under our control that currently have riders, Caraxes and Syrax." replied King Viserys. "Daemon is not likely to stir himself or his dragon from Dragonstone any time soon and I will not have you risk yourself in open combat. Syrax is still too young to be close to invulnerable in combat and all it would take is one stray arrow. No, we will not use dragons."

The princess deflated slightly before quickly rallying herself once more.

"Then maybe we could try something else." she said.

"Such as, princess?" Lord Corlys asked before anyone could brush her off.

"From what I've read of the Free Cities, their politics are notoriously rife with mistrust and backstabbing and alliances rarely last long," Princess Rhaenyra continued. "We could exploit that to rid us of the Crabfeeder. Dress up one of our ships and its sailors as one of the Crabfeeder's and have it raid a ship belonging to one of the Triarchy, which will make them think that their pirate admiral has gone rogue and they'll have him killed. Or maybe an assassination of one of the Triarchy leaders and let them think it was one of the others, so they'll begin tearing each other apart and their alliance will collapse."

Eurwen was rather taken-aback by the ruthlessness of the suggestion, particularly from such a young girl, and judging by the expressions on nearly everyone else's faces she wasn't the only one. Lord Corlys stroked his chin contemplatively, though there was a definite glint in his eyes, but Otto Hightower had narrowed his eyes at the princess in a manner reminiscent of a predator sighting a threat it hadn't realised was there until that moment.

"Rhaenyra, I'm surprised at you!" exclaimed King Viserys. "Assassinations and false colours, where in Valyria did you ever get such unseemly ideas?"

"I suspect it is the influence of her uncle speaking through her, Your Grace," said Otto Hightower just as Rhaenyra opened her mouth to reply. "Such honourless tactics would be part of Daemon's repertoire."

"Actually, ser, I read of these in my books." Princess Rhaenyra said, giving the Hand of the King an icy glare for interrupting her. "Books I found in the library, not the useless tripe my septa keeps pushing on me."

"Still, such tactics are unbecoming of Westeros." Otto Hightower sniffed. "We will settle this via diplomacy and civilised discourse, not darkling schemes."

"But, my lords-" Princess Rhaenyra began to say.

"Perhaps there might be a better use for the princess' talents than cupbearing today, Your Grace." Otto Hightower said, ignoring the truly lethal glare he got from the princess for interrupting her again.

"Like what, Lord Hand?" Eurwen asked. "The princess is giving sound advice, even if it is unpalatable to hear."

"And at least she has a plan to deal with this situation." agreed Lord Corlys.

"A plan that would throw the honour of the realm to the dogs," countered Otto Hightower. "We should not-"

"Enough!"

The single snapped word from the king stopped them all dead.

"Rhaenyra, I appreciate your fervour and desire to help but these are arenas outside your experience." he said. "If we were to do as you say and the actions were traced back to us, all of Essos would rise against us, not just a few of the Free Cities, and it would ruin our reputation."

Rhaenyra closed her mouth and bit her lip.

"I understand, Father." she said. "Sorry."

"It's all right, Rhaenyra. I know you were just trying to help." King Viserys said, then turned to Ser Harrold. "Lord Commander, why don't you take Rhaenyra to see about the new Kingsguard posting?"

"Aye, Your Grace." Ser Harrold replied after a moment's silence. "A fine idea."

"This knight will protect you as well, Rhaenyra." King Viserys said. "I trust your judgement on this."

The princess managed a small twitch of the lips which might have been an attempt at a smile before striding out of the room with Ser Harrold following her.

"A good idea, Your Grace." Otto Hightower said as soon as the doors had closed behind them. "The Small Council matters are no place for the princess."

"I would argue otherwise, Lord Hand, considering that she is the heir and will one day formally occupy these meetings." Eurwen countered.

"That will not be for quite some time, gods willing." Otto Hightower replied.

"It is never too soon to begin learning matters that will become your responsibility later in life." Eurwen said. "Princess Rhaenyra's formal education as heir is yet to officially begin; actively participating in these meetings rather than simply observing and filling cups will go a long way to providing experience."

"Which is also what the selection of a new Kingsguard can provide." replied the Hand of the King. "Each of the candidates selected are all of fine stock and deed, attached to noted names and families. It will allow the princess insight into the noble houses of the realm."

"But it does not address the matter we were discussing, my lords." Lord Corlys said. "The methods suggested by the princess do have merit and she is the only one of you who has spoken up about doing something constructive."

"War is not something I wish to entertain, Lord Corlys." said King Viserys. "And I have acted, believe it or not. Envoys and ravens have been sent to Pentos and Volantis, seeking to find common cause. This issue with the Stepstones will be settled in time."

"Time is something I fear we do not have, Your Grace." Eurwen said. "First blood has been drawn and as Lord Corlys says, these pirate scum will grow bolder the longer they are allowed to operate with impunity."

"And what would you suggest, Lady Eurwen, as you are supposedly so well-versed in the arts of war?" Otto Hightower all but sneered.

There were times when Eurwen greatly missed Tamriel, where issues of her gender were almost non-existent and people were well-aware of her former active service as a legate in the Imperial Legion, and this was one of them.

"A firm message needs to be sent." she said. "I advocate that we send messages to the Triarchy informing them that we would be willing to accept and pay tolls, but attacks on our ships and brutal murders of our sailors will not be tolerated. We will take no actions against the Free Cities themselves, but should the Crabfeeder or his men harm another vessel flying a Westerosi banner then we will dispatch our fleets with orders to slay the Crabfeeder and any who sail under his command. A balance of diplomacy and force."

Lord Corlys nodded in approval whilst everyone else merely looked grim. The potential costs and risks were high, but eventually you had to draw a line in the sand.

"It is an offer the Triarchy may take," Lord Strong observed, having remained silent so far. "Prince Drahar may well have overreached himself and they value money over honour. Avoid war and rid themselves of a troublesome former asset in one go is a tempting course."

"True, but what of the costs?" Lord Beesbury asked. "Even if it were only to take place in the Stepstones, a war would not be cheap. Ships and men would have to be found, for one."

"I would be happy to provide my family's personal fleet to this endeavour, Lord Beesbury, if it assuages your worry about costs." said Lord Corlys.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to wait until our envoys from Pentos and Volantis return before we make any decisions." suggested Grand Maester Mellos.

"By which point another half-dozen ships may have been lost, Grand Maester." Lord Corlys replied. "No, we cannot afford to wait that long."

"My lords, we are all getting ahead of ourselves. Need I remind you that only the King may declare war?" interjected Otto Hightower.

Everyone's heads turned in the direction of the King, who was shifting about uncomfortably.

"I agree with Mellos," he finally said. "For now, let us wait until our envoys return before we make any moves towards war."

Lord Corlys looked thunderous but he could not disobey the King's command, though he requested leave to at least prepare his fleet so it could depart immediately just in case. This permission was reluctantly given, on pain of severe punishment if any ships were deployed without royal assent, following which the meeting was brought to a close. Eurwen had some parting words for the king, however.

"I meant what I said earlier. If you truly intend for Rhaenyra to be your heir, you will have to raise her as one."

After leaving the Small Council chambers, Eurwen decided to go and see how Princess Rhaenyra was faring in the selection of a new Kingsguard. A passing servant pointed her in the direction of Maegor's Holdfast, the fortified redoubt of the royal family within the castle itself as dictated by the late and thoroughly unlamented usurper, and she arrived just in time to catch Princess Rhaenyra speaking with Lord Commander Westerling and, surprisingly, Otto Hightower. She did not reveal her presence at first but instead hung back just out of sight, intent on listening to how the young princess held her own against the more experienced statesman.

"Lord Hightower, none of these knights save Ser Criston have seen actual combat. The Old King himself once stated that those who come for the king with violence and blood in mind do not do so on the back of a horse with a lance in hand." Princess Rhaenyra was saying. "I wish for a skilled warrior who knows of battle and death to protect my father."

"I do not doubt Ser Criston's combat capabilities, Princess, but Houses such as Mallister, Crakehall and Corbray are all important allies of the Crown. Seagard, for example, has long been known as the realm's strongest redoubt against the Ironborn." Otto Hightower was saying.

"True, but there are no Ironborn anymore thanks to Lady Eurwen." replied the Princess.

Eurwen herself smirked a bit at that, especially seeing the way the Hand of the King ground his teeth together at the reminder. The Scourging of the Iron Islands, The Reaving of the Reavers as the singers proclaimed it and The Woman's War as it was known among the commoners, had been the only time when she had actively led a war effort rather than serving in a supporting role. On first arriving in Westeros and hearing of the Ironborn, she had been instantly repulsed by what she read and was told of them; a disorganised rabble who fancied themselves the greatest seafarers and warriors in the world but whose actual claim to that revolved entirely around stealing whatever they wanted from people who couldn't defend themselves and burning everything they couldn't loot, drowning children in front of their shrieking mothers as offerings to their foul drowned demon of a god before raping them and carrying them off to be sex slaves.

Tamriel knew the Redguards as legendary sailors, and rightly so, but the Altmer also possessed a proud seafaring history and as a woman born of the Summerset Isles, Eurwen was utterly disgusted by these upjumped pirates. As such when they had finally resumed their reaving around halfway into the reign of the Old King and responded to the Iron Throne's commands to cease and desist all raiding henceforth and forever under pain of severe displeasure by sending a box filled with faeces to the Red Keep, Eurwen had all but ordered King Jaehaerys to allow her to take the lead on their response. Her declaration to the Iron Islands had been swift and to the point, kind of a necessity given that four out of five Ironborn couldn't read.

"The Iron Price goes both ways, and you have much to pay for."

She had then proceeded to rally perhaps the largest fleet ever known since the ten thousand ships of Nymeria, composed of men (and women) from every region of Westeros, people who burned with hatred for the Ironborn and were eager to pay them back for countless centuries of reaving. Every Great House contributed men and ships, gold and weapons; even Dorne joined with her, a force of six thousand Salty and Stony Dornishmen led by Lord Andrew Dayne, then the Sword of the Morning and a man who had lost two sisters and a brother to an Ironborn raid on Starfall. Once her fleet was assembled, she had sailed it to the Iron Islands and gone from one to the next, beginning with Harlaw and leaving Pyke for last as each island suffered the same fate; each and every Ironborn was slain, by sword or axe or spell, each thrall was freed from bondage (and nearly all who could fight joined her to get payback) and each island was scorched almost down to the bedrock. Lady Eurwen travelled at the head of each raid, refusing all offers of alliance, peace or mercy.

"Chance after chance were you given," she said to each Ironborn who tried to surrender or bargain. "Time after time were you thrown back into the sea after raiding and time after time you came back to do it again. No more. From now on, there will be no more Old Way, no more Iron Price, no more Ironborn."

And she made good on it, too. The Ironborn marshalled their fleets against her but each was destroyed, no match for the sheer size of her armada nor able to counter the battlemages serving in it, having scorned and disdained the learning of magic. By the end of it, not a single Ironborn remained alive. Their ships were burned or taken as prizes, their holdings were looted and burned and their men slain to the last: the Iron Price, paid in full upon those who loved to inflict it. That act had finally secured her genuine respect and fear from many in Westeros, as up until that point many had assumed she got and kept her role because Aegon liked her exotic appearance or because she bewitched him. Ruthlessly wiping the one group of people absolutely everyone in Westeros universally despised (barring perhaps the wildlings who roamed Beyond the Wall) from the very face of the earth meant they finally saw why the Conqueror had seen fit to keep her on permanent retainer.

"As may be, Princess, but these Houses each carry great influence within the realm and could be stalwart allies." Otto Hightower said, bringing Eurwen out of her reverie. "Granting them the glory of a member serving in the Kingsguard could-"

"The purpose of the Kingsguard is not to serve as a political appointment to gain personal or house glory, Ser Otto." Princess Rhaenyra interrupted. "Glory may be earned in service, of course, but its purpose first and foremost is to guard and protect the royal family."

"Well-said, Princess."

All three of them started at her sudden words, with Ser Harrold actually going for his sword for a moment before realising who she was as she walked out from her hiding place to stand beside them on the balcony, where she looked down upon half-a-dozen knights all gathered for inspection. Five of them wore the colours of noble houses (Tarly, Mallister, Caron, Corbray and Crakehall) but the sixth wore rather battered and unadorned armour and bore no colours. At the sight of her each knight bowed his head save for the Mallister knight, who instantly sank to his knees.

"Hail, Kraken-Slayer!" he proclaimed.

Eurwen resisted the urge to roll her eyes; ever since the last Ironborn war, House Mallister (who hated the Ironborn more than any other house save perhaps the Mormonts of Bear Island) had declared her the Kraken-Slayer on account of how she had slain the last member of House Greyjoy, the leaders of the Ironborn whose sigil was the feared ocean-dwelling beast. Apparently she had become some kind of hero to them, like Talos was to the Nords. Ever the gracious lady, however, she suppressed this minor irritation and tipped the knight a friendly smile.

"Be welcome to King's Landing, knight of Seagard." she said. "Forgive me, but your name escapes me."

"Ser Rymun, my lady. Second son of Lord Lymond." replied the knight.

"Ah, yes. How fares your family at present?" Eurwen asked.

"Well enough, my lady. We no longer have to worry about raids from the damned krakens thanks to you, and the booming iron trade ensures our coffers remain full."

After scourging the Iron Islands of their despicable inhabitants, mining interests had been established on them to make full use of their plentiful iron deposits. As the closest major settlement on the coast to them, Seagard had become the main port thoroughfare for shipments from the islands of iron ore and also of workers to the islands to mine it. As a result, House Mallister had increased substantially in station and wealth.

"I'm glad to hear it," Eurwen replied. "Are you here as a prospective Kingsguard?"

"Yes, my lady. Though, I regret to inform you that I was unsuccessful in that regard." replied Ser Ryum.

Eurwen turned to the princess, who indicated the sole knight who bore no colours.

"I have chosen Ser Criston Cole to be the new Kingsguard knight owing to his previous record of combat." she said. "These other knights are all tourney winners; impressive in the lists, but it doesn't translate to actual fighting ability."

"Perceptive, Princess Rhaenyra." Eurwen replied even as she noticed the sullen expressions on the faces of the other knights, clearly unhappy at a common-born knight being picked over them.

"Yes, but as I was telling the princess-" Otto Hightower began.

"I choose Ser Criston Cole, Lord Hand, and that is that." Princess Rhaenyra told him firmly. "Good day."

She turned on her heel and strode away, missing the offended looks on the faces of the knights whom she hadn't even acknowledged. Eurwen did not and quickly halted the princess before she could get too far away.

"Princess Rhaenyra, these other knights have travelled a long way in hopes of becoming the next Kingsguard knight." she told her. "Perhaps you should not dismiss them so brusquely."

"What else is there to do, Lady Eurwen?" the princess asked. "I have made my decision and my mind is not going to change."

"I was not trying to change your mind, Princess, only pointing out that perhaps you should at least thank them for coming all this way and grant them some small token of compensation." Eurwen replied. "A small gesture of kindness can work wonders for one's reputation."

She was thinking back to when her name was, rather out of the blue, suggested for the position of High Queen of Skyrim when the Moot finally met after Ulfric's demise. Many had travelled to Solitude to witness it and Eurwen had been surprised when not only her name was suggested but by how many supported it; Gilfre, the owner of Mixwater Mill whom she'd helped meet her wood quota; Taarie, the dressmaker whose clothes she'd once modelled for Jarl Elisif; Ainethatch, the owner of Karthwasten whom she'd saved from having to sell to the corrupt Silver-Blood family; Bolfrida, an elderly farmer from outside Windhelm whom she'd helped pick and load some crops; so many "little people" whom she'd helped during her time in Skyrim with favours or tasks that had seemed trivial, yet had built up her reputation to such a degree that she had a strong foundation of support for the highest office in Skyrim. Naturally she had turned down the chance, feeling that an Altmer High Queen probably wouldn't go down well, but it had stuck with her how much support she'd unwittingly gained just from a few acts of kindness and how much power could be derived from that, a lesson that she intended to impart upon the princess. Rhaenyra gave her a searching look, wondering where she was going with this, but eventually turned and walked back onto the balcony where Otto Hightower was just about to address the knights.

"One moment, sers, I completely forgot." she said, hitching on a winning smile. "To those of you who I did not choose, I thank you for travelling all this way. Furthermore, I will grant a token of ten gold dragons to each of you in consolation, to be used as you see fit."

All of the knights stared up at her in surprise; ten gold dragons was no small sum of money.

"Thank you, Princess." said the knight wearing the colours of House Caron as he went down on one knee, followed swiftly by the other four. "Your generosity and kindness is most appreciated."

Standing off to the side, Eurwen noticed the expression on Otto Hightower's face as the princess made her declaration; far from looking pleased at Rhaenyra's sudden demonstration of courtliness he instead looked annoyed, though Eurwen could not for the life of her fathom why. Surely such a demonstration of courtly behaviour would only go to prove that his recommendation of her being named heir was a good one.

"Ser Harrold," said the princess, having finished overseeing the distribution of the token rewards, "Lord Hand, let us plan Ser Criston's investiture as soon as possible."

"Aye, Princess." replied Ser Harrold.

"As you wish, Princess." said Otto Hightower.

Eurwen left them to it, electing to go and see the King and inform him of the Princess' decision. As she approached his quarters, she was surprised to see Lady Alicent Hightower, the Hand's daughter, leaving it. The young lady was wearing a blue dress, her favourite colour, but it was oddly revealing in comparison to the ones she usually wore and she all but jumped clean out of it when she realised Eurwen was there.

"Oh! Lady Eurwen, my apologies!" she said, sinking into a perfectly executed curtsy. "I did not see you."

"There is no problem, Lady Alicent." Eurwen replied, smiling warmly at the girl. "Were you looking for your father? Because if so, he's in Maegor's Holdfast with the princess overseeing the investiture of the newest member of the Kingsguard."

"Ah, I see. Many thanks, Lady Eurwen. I shall go to see him immediately." the young lady said, sounding oddly rushed.

And she fairly fled down the corridor, walking at as quick a pace as she could manage without actually running. Eurwen watched her go, frowning in contemplation, before shrugging and entering the King's chambers. The room was quite large and airy, but a large amount of space was dominated by the enormous carved stone model of the Valyrian Freehold that the King had had commissioned and frequently updated. Whilst Eurwen was certain that the design was a bit embellished from the histories, she couldn't deny that it was impressive. Even if the legacy of Valyria was…controversial, it had accomplished much and reached an astounding level of technological and magical innovation that no other civilisation on this world, or at least this plane of existence, had ever matched before or after. It reminded her of the Dwemer, or perhaps the Ayleids; both forged empires that were unmatched and relied heavily on powerful innovations and magics, along with slave labour, and then it was all wiped out leaving only ruins and scraps behind for scavengers to find. Perhaps that was why the Targaryens had chosen "Fire and Blood" for their motto; Valyria had been founded upon, built upon and then ended in it.

"Ah, Lady Eurwen." said King Viserys, raising his head from the small carved model of a dragon he was sanding. "What brings you here?"

"Nothing troubling, Your Grace, I was simply coming to inform you that Princess Rhaenyra has made her choice for the new Kingsguard posting." Eurwen replied.

"So quickly? Whom did she pick?" asked the King.

"Ser Criston Cole, a common-born Marcher knight who has seen combat in fighting Dornish rebels in the Boneway." Eurwen replied. "He was also the one who unhorsed and defeated your brother during the Heir's Tournament."

The King convulsed slightly at the mention of the tournament, that dark day when his beloved wife died.

"I…..I see," he said in a wooden voice. "Well, I'm sure that Rhaenyra's decision was well-founded. What of the other candidates?"

"Houses Mallister, Tarly, Caron, Corbray and Crakehall were the other hopefuls, Your Grace." Eurwen replied. "All of good pedigree and skill, but the princess felt the same way as the Old King that tourney knights did not make good bodyguards."

"Wise girl." King Viserys remarked, smiling.

Eurwen's eyes fell on the nearby desk, which was piled high with opened raven scrolls.

"More messages from lords offering the hands of their daughters, Your Grace?" she asked.

"Yes." replied the King in a tired voice. "Gods, I have been a widow for only half a year and already they hone in on me like sharks with blood in the water."

"It is the way of things, Your Grace." Eurwen stated frankly. "I have been fending off betrothal requests since the Iron Throne was first forged and still they do not take the hint. They will not grant you respite until you choose."

"It is so." King Viserys said. "I know my duty, yet my heart still pines for what it cannot have. And honestly, some of these lords are just…they offer me girls as young as ten. Ten!"

He threw his hands up in the air in frustration whilst Eurwen flared her nostrils with a disdainful sniff. By the gods, even if humans did reach sexual maturity very rapidly and could breed like rabbits, there had to be standards set!

"I would not even dignify those with a response, Your Grace." she said coldly. "If I were you, I would discount any below 20, 18 at absolute minimum, or perhaps look for an older lady, unmarried or widowed. Also look for someone whom you can find common ground and with a shared fondness, ideally someone you genuinely like. Many marriages collapse beyond any hope of recovery because both spouses cannot find common ground beyond wedding for duty. You should also consider any political benefits that could come as well, depending on the bride's family."

"You make it sound so easy, Lady Eurwen." scoffed King Viserys.

"I merely speak from what I believe to be best, Your Grace, but I will admit that I cannot speak from experience." Eurwen replied. "Having never married nor experienced romantic or physical attraction, all I can do is advise on what I have read."

"I appreciate the effort, Lady Eurwen. And you have given me much to think on." King Viserys told her. "Thank you."

She left him to it and headed back to her tower. As early evening approached, she was surprised by a visit from a noticeably uncertain-looking Princess Rhaenyra.

"Oh, Princess Rhaenyra. Just give me a moment to finish this paperwork." she said.

The princess seemed glad of the excuse to wait. Eurwen watched her out of the corner of her eye as she roamed around the room, inspecting the various magical apparatuses, weapons and assorted trophies on display. She paused by a mounted set of armour, forged in the likeness of the set that Eurwen had worn when she was an Imperial Legionnaire, and a sword with a red-tinted blade hung up next to it.

"Is this what you wore in the Woman's War, Lady Eurwen?" she asked.

"Hm? Oh…oh yes, it is." Eurwen replied. "I had it made in an identical style to some armour I wore before I came to Westeros. Also had to literally twist the blacksmith's arm before I could get him to make armour for a woman. Pah!"

The princess laughed before turning her attention to the sword; reaching out with her right hand, she ran a finger along the blade and almost instantly pulled it back with a small gasp of pain as it sliced through her skin like paper.

"Careful with that, Princess." Eurwen admonished her. "I really should find a scabbard for that."

"Is that Valyrian steel?" asked the Princess, sucking her bleeding finger.

"Indeed it is." Eurwen replied. "That is the sword Red Rain, formerly wielded by the lords of House Drumm…..until I killed him and took it, that is. There are rumours that it once belonged to House Reyne of Castamere, in the Westerlands, before the Drumms got their skeletal hands on it."

"Impressive." Princess Rhaenyra remarked. "I'm surprised they haven't asked for it back."

"Oh, they have." Eurwen replied. "Multiple times, and not so much asked as demanded, ordered, commanded and threatened. And they're not the only ones; their own overlords, the Lannisters, have offered me everything from my weight in gold to a tamed lion in exchange for the sword ever since they lost their own on an expedition to Valyria. There have even been one or two attempts to steal it, but my chambers take a very dim view of thieves."

"Can I try it?" asked the Princess.

Eurwen nodded and watched as the Princess carefully took the sword down from its mounting, tested its weight in her hand and then gave it a few practice swings.

"Beautiful." she almost whispered as she admired the sword once more before returning it to its mounting.

"Indeed she is, my dear." Eurwen replied with a smile. "Your uncle was and still is quite jealous of it. He once tried to order me to give it to him, as he feels that all remaining Valyrian steel belongs to House Targaryen since you are supposedly the last Valyrians."

Rhaenyra winced, one hand going to the necklace that she wore; a necklace that, Eurwen realised on getting a good look at it, was made from Valyrian steel and set with rubies. Probably a gift from her uncle, she surmised.

"Yes. Daemon is very…intense when it comes to our ancestry." she said. "I assume you refused?"

"I told him that if he wanted the sword, he would have to take it from me." Eurwen replied. "He decided otherwise. But, I digress. What can I do for you?"

The princess dropped into a chair opposite her, nervously fiddling with the ring on her finger.

"I just….well, I…oh, gods." she stammered.

"Easy, child. Don't feel like you have to belt it all out at once." Eurwen told her kindly. "Take a few deep breaths, centre yourself and then speak."

Rhaenyra did as suggested and found herself noticeably calmer than before.

"Lady Eurwen, forgive me for burdening you with this but I didn't know who else to turn to." she said.

"Nonsense, Princess. I am always here for you should you need me." Eurwen replied. "Now, what troubles you?"

"Well, normally I would speak with my mother about these things but…"

Eurwen felt a cold fear begin to creep up her spine from her stomach; oh gods, she wasn't going to begin asking questions about her monthly cycle, was she? Because if she was, Eurwen could not help at all; human female cycles were very, very different from Altmer female ones and that was a barrel of wasps she was not going to open up.

"...well, if my mother were still around I wouldn't need to even consider this." the princess continued. "It concerns my father."

"Oh thank you, merciful gods." Eurwen muttered under her breath. "What about your father, Princess?"

"The men of the court think I do not hear or see them, but I do. And what I hear and see them speak of is one thing: when my father will remarry and who he will marry." said the Princess.

"Yes, the men of the court have not exactly been subtle about that." Eurwen remarked. "You should see some of the offers he's received; some are for girls younger than you."

Rhaenyra's face twisted in disgust.

"I know that it is my father's duty to remarry, to sire more heirs and reassure the kingdoms that his line will continue." she said. "Yet I can't help but feel angry about it. My mother has not yet been dead a full year and….the lords I can understand, as grasping and ambitious as they are to want their daughters wed to the king, but my father being so ready to consider it so soon? It's infuriating!"

Eurwen politely sat in silence whilst the girl vented, allowing her to get all this frustration off her chest before answering.

"Understandable, Princess." she said once Rhaenyra had paused for breath. "And first of all, I will assure you that these feelings are neither wrong nor do they make you an ungrateful daughter. Emotions are the bane of everyone young and old and you are a girl who has recently lost the mother you dearly loved, have mourned for only a few months and now are supposed to wrap your head around another woman taking her place. I would honestly be concerned if you weren't confused, upset and angry over this."

Princess Rhaenyra visibly relaxed in her chair, clearly relieved to hear this.

"Rest assured that your father is not remotely as eager to rush into another marriage as you fear he is, Princess." she went on. "Like you he knows it is his duty, yet his heart rebels at the idea of casting aside your mother so soon after losing her. Have you actually spoken to him about it?"

"I…..er….I have not," the Princess admitted somewhat ashamedly. "Truth be told, it has been rather distant between us since I was invested as the heir."

"Perhaps you should speak of it to him, then." Eurwen suggested. "Give voice to the doubts and fears you possess and further discourse with him over the future. I have myself already spoken with him and given my advice on his marriage options; you should do so as well."

"I suppose you have a point, Lady Eurwen." Princess Rhaenyra conceded. "I, um, also had an…..enlightening conversation with Princess Rhaenys earlier on as well regarding this situation and….my own future as heir."

Eurwen sat up a bit straighter in her chair and fixed the princess with a beady look. Princess Rhaenys, The-Queen-Who-Never-Was, was a matter that was still sensitive where Eurwen was concerned. She had willingly forgone casting a vote at the Great Council, adhering to her vow of neutrality, but had made very clear to King Jaehaerys her views on the subject and emphasised that in the purest legal terms of succession, Rhaenys had the stronger claim as the only child of a named heir. She had never directly spoken with Rhaenys on the subject, but suspected that regardless of how much The-Queen-Who-Never-Was claimed to have gotten over and accepted the loss, she still nursed no small amount of bitterness at being passed over simply because she was a woman.

"And what did she say to you, Princess?" she asked.

"A few things." replied Princess Rhaenyra. "We spoke of my feelings about my father remarrying, then my status as heir and how the future might change should my father have a son. Then she said…well, I don't know if she's exaggerating or not but…"

"What, Princess?" Eurwen prompted her. "Speak it, I will take no offence."

Princess Rhaenyra took a deep breath, as though preparing to drop a boulder or unleash a sabre-cat.

"She said that men would sooner put the realm to the torch than see a woman ascend the Iron Throne." she said.

Eurwen bit her lip and did not reply for a long moment, thinking the words over and very carefully measuring her answer.

"The Princess Rhaenys exaggerates," she finally said before adding, "but not by much. The hardest challenge I have found to overcome in this land is how women are viewed and treated in comparison to my land of origin. Women there may rule and fight and occupy positions of power without anyone blinking an eye; here, it is different. There exists a long-established order where men are one thing and women are another and that is that. Not strictly in all places; Dorne permits equal inheritance and the North does not look askance upon women who can fight, but still it lingers and it is difficult to overturn."

"Have you not tried to overturn it?" Princess Rhaenyra half-asked, half-demanded.

"Of course I have." Eurwen almost snapped back at her. "But do you think it has been easy? Not only am I a woman, I am also a foreigner and a blatant practitioner of magic, all three of which clash with the established majority doctrine of the land and ensure some will always oppose or resent me regardless of what I do. I am also a woman who does not permit myself to be ruled by marriage and occupies a place of immense power and influence within the realm, a point which many men struggle their whole lives to get to and which breeds further resentment because to some, it means having to clamber and claw their way up to stand on even footing with a woman, an affront to their every worldview. Furthermore, I was placed in this position by decree of another invading foreigner, which is exactly what your family is to be blunt about it."

Princess Rhaenyra briefly bristled but inwardly conceded the point; her family had had no true roots in Westeros before the Conquest, no true claim to dominion over the lands by right of blood or name. They came and took it by force, forged themselves their own dominion, and whilst they had brought much good with them there were some who would always regard them as foreign conquerors regardless of how much they accomplished, good or ill.

"All of this combines into a very deadly mixture, Princess." Eurwen went on. "You see my power, my magical ability, my political clout and royal authority and wonder, why do I not use this to force such a thing through? Why not force everyone to conform to what I see things should be? Answer: because I am one, and they are many. Because to force beliefs and rules upon people is to naturally turn them against these new ideas out of resentment and anger and wounded pride. So instead I must work at a slow pace, introduce new ideas one by one, let people see the merits over their doubts and gain support and approval before enacting them. I have been here a century and only accomplished a bare minimum of what I want to accomplish, women on even footing with men and accepted as such, yet at the same time already much has changed. My schools of magic that I have established up and down Westeros, taking in boys and girls and men and women all, teaching them and elevating them alongside each other then sending them out to do good. Already, they are having effects; the Citadel is reluctantly considering accepting women, septs are requesting healers to administer and train their acolytes in the art. Small progress, yet vastly improved over what it once was. You represent that as well, now more than ever."

"Princess Rhaenys remains convinced that nothing will change," Princess Rhaenyra replied, though she looked very thoughtful. "That men will conspire and rise up to ensure I never rule over them."

"She's not wrong." Eurwen bluntly admitted. "There will always be those who try their best to belittle and undermine and subvert you, because you are a woman named to the throne or because doing so suits their ambitions. But you should not focus upon them; you should focus on doing what I do, proving yourself so that the majority become convinced to side with you rather than against you. Your situation is delicate, yes, but not fragile. Not yet. And if you take my advice and proceed on this path, it will become stronger."

The Princess left after a few more questions, saying that Eurwen had given her much to think about and thanking her for taking the time to see her. Privately Eurwen was not certain that she had truly assuaged any doubts, but at least provided a stable foundation upon which to build. She took dinner in her chambers from a servant and worked until the bells of the Grand Sept tolled midnight, upon which she finished her work and retired to bed.

A servant woke her just as dawn was breaking to inform her of an emergency Small Council meeting that had been called by the Hand of the King. Thankfully she was not the only one to look half-dead from tiredness and very resentful over having been dragged from her bed.

"Would it be in poor taste for me to say that somebody very important better have died?" she wondered aloud to the room.

"A little, Lady Eurwen." rumbled Lord Strong, trying and failing to smother a jaw-cracking yawn.

The doors opened and the King entered along with a bleary-eyed Rhaenyra and Otto Hightower; the king and the Hand picked up their marble totems and placed him into their receptacles whilst Rhaenyra grabbed a spare chair, dragged it over to the table and all but collapsed into it.

"What has happened, Otto?" the King demanded without preamble, sounding exhausted.

"Your Grace, there has been an incident at the Dragonpit." replied the Hand of the King.

This made everyone sit up sharply, all traces of tiredness fleeing in an instant; the Dragonpit was a gargantuan structure that was part-arena and part-zoo, containing nearly all known living dragons with a few exceptions. As such, any news regarding it was instantly worthy of attention due to the great importance and great danger it represented.

"Details?" demanded the King.

"One of the Dragonkeepers arrived at the Red Keep an hour ago, claiming that there was an incident that happened in the Hour of the Bat." Otto Hightower went on. "Apparently, an intruder managed to break into the lower levels of the Dragonpit, assaulted two Dragonkeepers who tried to stop them and made off with a dragon egg."

The room went deadly silent as each person absorbed this information. Who on earth would be stupid enough to break into the heavily-guarded lair of a dozen flying fire-breathing lizards, much less steal an egg from them?

"Where is this Dragonkeeper?" the King demanded.

"Waiting outside, Your Grace." replied Otto Hightower. "I had guards bring him up here immediately so you could-"

"Bring him in. Now."

One of the Kingsguard went to the door, opened it and left; he returned almost immediately with an older man wearing soot-stained robes and with numerous claw marks and burn scars marring his face; a Dragonkeeper, one of the men and women specially selected to tend to and guard the Dragonpit and its inhabitants. A younger man in the same outfit stood beside him, helping the older man along.

"You are one of the Dragonkeeper Elders, are you not?" the King asked, though it was more statement than question. "How could an intruder have gotten past 50 of your number to steal a dragon egg?"

The old man looked terrified and stricken with remorse and guilt. He began to speak in High Valyrian, which the younger man translated for the benefit of those in the room who didn't speak it.

"I beg forgiveness, Your Grace." he translated. "It was Prince Daemon who took the egg."

"Daemon?" the King said in disbelief as the Elder Dragonkeeper continued to speak.

"He arrived at the Dragonpit and requested entry." translated the younger one. "When we realised his intention, we tried to stop him but he attacked us and escaped the Pit, flying away on Caraxes."

There was silence as this was digested.

"I do not understand." King Viserys half-mumbled. "Why would Daemon steal an egg? He has Caraxes already."

The Elder Dragonkeeper held up a trembling hand, in which was held a scroll.

"He threw this at me before he fled." translated the younger Dragonkeeper.

Grand Maester Mellos took the scroll and broke its seal, then unrolled it and read the contents.

"What does it say?" Otto Hightower demanded.

"Ahem. The message reads as follows," Mellos said. "It is the pleasure of Prince Daemon Targaryen, the Prince of Dragonstone and rightful heir to the Iron Throne, to announce that he is to take a second wife in addition to his betrothal with Lady Laena of House Velaryon, in the tradition of Old Valyria. Lady Mysaria is to take the title Lady of Dragonstone and is presently with child, upon whose birth shall be bestowed with a dragon's egg in their cradle. The wedding of Prince Daemon and Lady Mysaria is to take place two days from now, to which King Viserys is cordially invited."

A ringing silence greeted these words, broken by a loud thump as Lord Corlys' brought his fists crashing down upon the tabletop with such force that his marble totem was dislodged from its basin and rolled over the edge of the table, where Eurwen caught it a second before it could hit the floor.

"How dare he?!" thundered the Lord of the Tides, white dreadlocks flying about his head like albino snakes. "He thinks that he can dishonour my daughter, my blood, slander and disrespect my family by spurning my daughter in favour of…..of…..whoever this Mysaria woman is!"

"We believe her to be a whore whom Daemon has favoured recently." Otto Hightower said. "This is nothing less than sedition, Your Grace."

"I strongly agree, sire." concurred Lord Strong.

"This insult must be answered!" stormed Lord Corly. "Give me leave and I will take my fleet and besiege Dragonstone. Let us see how loyal his men remain when they are starved of supplies."

King Viserys raised a hand for calm.

"My brother seeks to provoke me." he said. "To answer such is to give him what he wants."

"So you intend to do nothing?" demanded Lord Corlys incredulously. "What further insult must he pay you before you take action? Are you so weak as to-?"

"Which egg?"

The question silenced them all. Princess Rhaenyra was sitting up in her seat, a terrible realisation written all over her face as she stared at the two Dragonkeepers.

"Which egg was stolen?" she demanded.

Eurwen had a nasty suspicion that she knew the answer before the Elder replied.

"It was one of Dreamfyre's eggs, Princess." translated the younger. "The egg you chose for Prince Baelon's cradle."

The temperature in the room dropped to such degrees that the Wall would have been jealous. Eurwen glanced at the King and could not help but flinch when she saw what she had been dreading; The Look. The last time she had seen that, on the face of King Jaehaerys on seeing the brutalised corpse of his close friend lying discarded in a filthy slum like rubbish, she had thought for one terrifying second that Maegor had returned from the dead. That same look was now on the face of King Viserys and for an amiable man to resemble that vicious psychopath so closely was downright terrifying.

"He took…my son's egg?" the King hissed.

"Y-Yes, Your Grace." the young Dragonkeeper translated. "I was there when the Princess chose it; I knew it at once."

The King's hands clenched into fists and he rose to his feet so rapidly that his hair actually flew up and around his head like a halo.

"Assemble a detachment, Otto." he seethed. "I will go to Dragonstone and drag Daemon out by his hair for this outrage!"

"Your Grace, I would heavily advise against that." Otto Hightower said at once. "Daemon has proved himself willing to flout all propriety and station and has made Dragonstone his own fortified territory; if you were to march in there…there's no telling what he could do."

"I agree with the Hand, Your Grace." said Lord Strong. "You should not risk yourself in such a manner."

"They are right, Your Grace." said Lord Corlys. "I will go in your stead and ensure that Daemon pays appropriately for his offence."

"You do not have the authority to do that, Lord Corlys." Otto Hightower replied. "But I do. Let me go to Dragonstone in your stead, Your Grace."

"Have you taken leave of your senses, Lord Hand?" Lord Beesbury blustered. "Daemon is like to cut you down the moment you set foot upon that isle!"

"Lord Beesbury is correct, Lord Hand. It would not end well for you to go to Dragonstone." Lord Strong agreed.

"Who else can represent the King in full authority?" pointed out Grand Maester Mellos.

"I will go."

The room went silent and all eyes turned to Eurwen as she rose to her feet.

"Send me." she said. "I will go to Dragonstone, retrieve the egg and put the Rogue Prince in his place once and for all."

Her glare and tone of voice dared anyone to disagree; unsurprisingly, Otto Hightower dared.

"You, Lady Eurwen?" he scoffed, almost sneered even. "The Prince is hardly fond of you-"

"No, but he loathes you, Lord Hand." Eurwen fired back, her tiredness making her irritable. "If both of us were to land on Dragonstone, which do you think he would most likely kill on the spot first?"

The Hand of the King did not reply, reluctantly conceding the point.

"If you were to go, it would be an unmitigated disaster." Eurwen continued bluntly. "I'm not disparaging your skills nor trying to undermine you, I'm simply stating a fact that the last person who could get Daemon to relinquish a stolen dragon egg would be you. No, I shall go."

Otto looked around the room seeking support, but nobody seemed inclined to do so.

"Lady Eurwen, please try to see sense." he said. "Do you think Daemon will take orders from a mere woman?"

Eurwen's eyes flashed with golden flames.

"A mere woman, am I?" she said in a deadly voice. "This mere woman, as you call me, led a campaign that finally scourged the Iron Islands clean of the vermin that had inhabited them for centuries. I defeated the last Lord Drumm in single combat and slew him with his own Valyrian steel sword which now hangs in my chambers. I also faced down and cowed the Conqueror, his wives and his dragons, fought off a small army of the Faith Militant's best who wanted to burn me alive at the stake and survived the court of that monster Maegor the Cruel. The Rogue Prince and his rightfully feared Blood-Wyrm will be a mere footnote in the list of dangerous things I have faced and survived. If you go you will die, by Daemon's blade or by his dragon, and then war will occur. I am the only one who could potentially handle this without it turning into bloodshed."

She kept herself drawn up to her full, and considerable, height, staring down each man in the room as though daring them to disagree further. None of them did.

"Very well, Lady Eurwen." King Viserys said. "As King, I hereby charge you to go to Dragonstone, retrieve the stolen dragon's egg and end my brother's unlawful occupation of the island. You are empowered with the full authority of the Crown to do so, but you are not to use violence unless absolutely necessary. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Eurwen replied.

A small detachment of soldiers was quickly put together to accompany her, along with Grand Maester Mellos, Lord Commander Westerling and the newly anointed Ser Criston Cole, whilst Lord Corlys provided his best vessel, Princess Rhaenys, and his own captaincy to sail her to Dragonstone. The King and the Princess both came to visit Eurwen whilst she was in her quarters gearing up, swapping her finely-made robes for the armour she hadn't worn in over fifty years. Rhaenyra picked up the helmet that she had yet to don and inspected it, running a finger over the engraved Imperial Legion symbol.

"A dragon," she said.

"Yes, Princess." Eurwen replied as she finished adjusting her gauntlets. "It seems that I cannot escape them, wherever I go."

Her armour donned, she now removed Red Rain from its mounting and slid it into a newly made scabbard before belting it onto her waist; she was not nearly as skilled a swordswoman as she was a mage, but battlemages were meant to solve problems with spell and sword in equal measure and the blade's reduced weight without compromising its cutting power or integrity made it perfect for her Altmer physiology.

"I will bring the egg back, Your Majesties." she stated firmly. "By hook or by crook."

The two royals nodded, though their smiles were very strained.

"Are you going to kill my uncle?" Rhaenyra suddenly blurted out.

Eurwen did not reply immediately.

"If I have to, Princess." she finally admitted, knowing that the girl would not accept coddling or sugarcoating from her. "I will avoid it, if possible, and I will give him a fair chance, but if he spurns every offer or proves himself so beyond reason that it places my life and my escorts at risk…then I will do what I must."

Neither seemed happy with her answer and Rhaenyra seemed poised to argue or throw up, Eurwen wasn't sure which, but the King simply put a hand over her shoulders and suggested that perhaps she should go for a walk with Alicent to calm her feelings.

"I trust your word on this, Lady Eurwen." he said once Rhaenyra had gone. "And I believe that you will try your best to resolve this as bloodlessly as possible, yet I also know that my brother will make it hard to do so. I know I said you had my leave to do whatever is necessary, but…"

"Yes, Your Grace?" she asked as he hesitated.

"Spare my brother if you can." Viserys almost begged. "Please."

She could have made any number of false assurances or comforting words, but sometimes he had to hear the brutal truth.

"I cannot make such promises, Your Grace." she said with genuine regret. "Just pray that your brother is not entirely beyond reason."

The island of Dragonstone loomed ahead through the mist, giant heads of dragons carved from stone and obsidian staring down at them as though passing judgement on the group that had landed on its shores. Eurwen glanced around as her men disembarked from the rowboats they had used to reach the shore, scanning for any enemies or potential ambushes. Yet she could see none, which was far from reassuring. The men who made up her escort, 18 battlemages along with the two Kingsguard knights, the Grand Maester and two Dragonkeepers, were all scanning the cliffs and skies as well, no doubt expecting Daemon's feared dragon to come swooping down and bathe them all in fire in an instant. Alone of the group, she was not particularly worried about that happening; if it did, she had a way of dealing with the red beast that even Daemon wouldn't see coming.

"Not much of a welcoming committee." she remarked aloud to the empty beach before turning to her men. "You two stay with the boats. The rest of you, with me."

She led the procession across the black sand and rocky beach towards the main gate, which stood half-open and unmanned; again, not a very reassuring sign. Through them and on the other side of the gates was one of the aspects that made Dragonstone so formidable, a narrow winding pathway only wide enough for three men abreast and completely exposed to enemy fire. The castle of Dragonstone itself loomed high above them, jagged towers and dragon carvings shimmering in and out of view through thick mist. They marched along until Eurwen caught sight of movement up ahead and brought the party to an instant halt in the middle of the path. Figures materialised out of the mist up ahead, a small party marching to meet their own. At the head of it was Daemon, Dark Sister sheathed at his side and a large object held in one hand. Next to him was a woman with distinctly foreign features dressed all in white and behind them both, a small squad of gold cloaks. Daemon and the woman, Lady Mysaria most likely, walked forwards so that there was a distance of five paces between them and the gold cloaks; Daemon tossed the object he was holding from one hand to the other and Eurwen gave a start as she realised it was the stolen dragon egg.

"Welcome to Dragonstone, Lady Eurwen." said the Rogue Prince, spreading his arms wide in welcome. "Or perhaps I should say welcome back; this is not your first time here, after all, if I recall correctly."

Eurwen remained stony-faced.

"Prince Daemon Targaryen," she began, "by the authority of His Grace King Viserys, First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I am here to order you to relinquish the dragon egg you have stolen, end your unlawful occupation of this island and its castle and return to King's Landing to answer for your actions."

Daemon accepted this silently, then made a show of peering over her shoulder and around her sides as though looking for someone.

"I don't see the King here," he said. "Where is he?"

"He was persuaded not to come." Eurwen replied.

"Otto Hightower, no doubt." Daemon spat in disgust. "I'm surprised he's not here either, since he's not one to miss an opportunity to lord himself over me."

"He was also persuaded not to come." Eurwen replied. "It was felt the risk of him being killed by you the moment he arrived was too high, so I am here."

Daemon didn't seem to be listening, instead focusing his attention on Ser Criston.

"I know you. Ser Crispin, wasn't it?" he said.

"Ser Criston, My Prince." the knight replied politely.

"Ah, yes. Apologies, I couldn't recall." said Daemon.

"Perhaps my Prince recalls when I knocked him off his horse." Ser Criston retorted.

Daemon stared at him for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed.

"Very good." he said in approval. "Perhaps there is something special about you after all, Ser Criston."

"Enough with your inane prattle." Eurwen snapped. "Are you going to relinquish the egg and obey royal commands or not?"

"This egg is for my future child, currently growing within my lovely soon-to-be wife." Daemon replied.

Eurwen took her first proper look at the lady in question; even by the standards of Altmer beauty she was very beautiful, but there were no obvious traces of Valyrian ancestry within her.

"Lady Mysaria, I presume? How nice to meet you, though I wish it were under better circumstances and in a better location." she said.

The woman smiled back.

"You would not think that if you knew of my normal surroundings." she replied.

"Perhaps." Eurwen replied. "I hear you are to be wedded to Daemon quite soon. I feel I should inform you that he is already engaged to be married, and his betrothed's family will not be happy to hear of another woman getting involved. Maybe you've heard of them? Corlys "The Sea Snake" Velaryon, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, "The Queen-Who-Never-Was" and rider of the dragon Meleys, and young Laenor Velaryon who will soon have a dragon large enough to ride? Not a family it is wise to make an enemy of."

Judging by how tense Mysaria's face and posture turned, she hadn't been made aware of precisely who Daemon was supposed to be marrying or at least not of the power they possessed.

"Lady Laena is welcome to share our marriage bed, as is the custom of Old Valyria." Daemon said.

"That custom died with Old Valyria." Eurwen retorted. "This nonsense must end. You have overreached, Daemon, and you have put not only yourself but Lady Mysaria and all your gold cloaks in grievous danger."

"My brother will not harm me nor a woman pregnant with my child and my men are loyal to me to the death." Daemon replied calmly.

"I do not speak of danger from your brother, you impudent fool." Eurwen snapped. "Do you not comprehend the danger you have placed yourself and many others in as a result of this? If whispers of your polygamous marriage reaches the ears of the Most Devout, it will bring about another rise of the Faith Militant."

Daemon scoffed.

"Do I look like I care what those hypocritical preachers of that Andal tripe say?" he sneered. "Besides, let the rats rise up from their nests. Makes them easier to burn."

Eurwen fought the urge to slap him upside the head.

"Have you forgotten your lessons, you idiotic little boy?" she almost spat. "The Faith Militant were little more than a bunch of rabble, yes, but they were also a persistent and deadly threat that nearly ended your family's dynasty before it began and required a combination of Maegor's brutality, the beast beyond compare that was Balerion and the ruthless politicking of Jaehaerys to finally be put in the ground, and even then they have not truly gone away. Were they to rise again, the only true way to stop them would be to burn practically the entire continent from the Boneway to the Neck! And if they do rise again, they'll come here in their thousands and kill you, your wife, your child, your dragon and everyone who pledges allegiance to you. Are you truly that blind?"

Her words seemed to be getting to Daemon, though not in the manner she'd hoped. He held the egg out in front of him, face drawn in a sneer.

"This egg is now my property." he said. "And soon it will be the property of my unborn child. A dragon does not easily relinquish what it takes."

"You, boy, are no dragon." Eurwen fired back.

Pure rage simmered in the Rogue Prince's eyes for a moment and Eurwen dropped a hand to the hilt of Red Rain. Daemon's eyes followed it and a smirk spread across his face.

"Of course, perhaps I could be persuaded to make a trade." he said. "I can always get another dragon egg, but Valyrian steel remains so rare. So why don't we make an exchange? The sword you bear that rightfully belongs to the blood of Valyria in return for the egg."

Eurwen gripped the hilt of her sword so hard that the leather wrappings on the handle squeaked.

"I am not here to bargain with you," she all but spat. "This is not a negotiation, this is a direct royal command by order of your king to return the property you stole and disband your insurrection."

Daemon let out a loud snarl and drew Dark Sister.

"You came for the egg? Take it, then!"

There was a singing of steel as swords were drawn by the gold cloaks behind him, a move immediately answered by Eurwen and her entourage. The open palms of their off-hands glowed and crackled with magical energy as spells were readied; Lady Mysaria shifted nervously, clearly not wanting to be caught in the middle of this, but the gold cloaks behind her weren't moving aside to let her retreat and Daemon hadn't even seemed to consider her.

"I warn you, Daemon, you are treading on dangerous ground." Eurwen said.

"Exactly the kind of ground I like to tread." Daemon replied.

A sudden loud noise got their attention and most of the battlemages behind her shifted nervously as Daemon's dragon, Caraxes the Blood-Wyrm, crawled up over the clifftops and loomed over them. Unique even among his species, Caraxes possessed a lithe, sinuous, serpentine body with a neck almost as long as his tail. The dragon let out a high-pitched screeching wheeze that was probably intended to be an intimidating roar; all of Eurwen's companions took a step back but she stood where she was, facing the dragon down unflinchingly.

"Impressive, Lady Eurwen." Daemon said with utter sincerity. "Not a single speck of fear."

"I faced down Balerion, Meraxes and Vhagar on the day when Torrhen became The King Who Knelt," Eurwen replied coldly. "Your oversized noodle is but a sheep in comparison."

The red dragon in question tilted its head to the side and Eurwen was certain that if it were physically capable of looking offended, it would be doing so.

"Are you set on violence, Prince Daemon?" she asked him.

"That depends on how reasonable you're willing to be." Daemon replied.

"I am being reasonable." Eurwen said. "I am giving you one final chance to surrender the egg and end your occupation peacefully, or else I will have to use force."

"Use force? Ha! You don't have the guts." Daemon sneered. "Not for the Crown Prince."

Eurwen switched her gaze between Daemon and Caraxes, judging the situation; Daemon might think he had all the cards with his admittedly strong bond with his dragon, but Eurwen had her own weapon. But she owed it to Viserys not to make the first aggressive move and so she switched out one secret for another.

"I have killed a Targaryen before, Prince Daemon. And I will do it again if necessary."

It was almost worth the price of giving up this secret to see Daemon look so utterly flabbergasted that he nearly dropped the dragon egg, as the full implications of what she just said sank in. He was not the only one; all of the gold cloaks were staring at her and Eurwen knew that her own men were doing the same, realising who she must mean.

"You-"

What could have happened next, only the gods knew. Through the mist the sound of heavy wings beating could be heard, followed by the unmistakable lowing of a dragon. Then the fog parted and a familiar yellow-gold beast flew over their heads, a small white-haired figure on its back.

Syrax flew around and alighted herself upon the walkway just behind Eurwen's battlemages, lowing and snorting as she did so. Princess Rhaenyra elegantly dismounted and strode confidently towards where Daemon and Eurwen were facing off.

"Princess Rhaenyra, what are you doing here?" Eurwen asked.

"I am here to prevent bloodshed, Lady Eurwen." replied the Princess. "And it seems that my timing is impeccable."

"It is, but you should still not be here." Eurwen told her. "It is far too dangerous for you."

"I have Syrax, I'm perfectly safe." Rhaenyra said in a chirpy fashion. "You might want to put away your swords, though, lest Syrax get the wrong idea. She is very protective of me."

Indeed, the yellow dragon was eyeing their drawn blades with a wary eye. Eurwen weighed the situation in her mind then very reluctantly sheathed Red Rain, which made her men copy the gesture. Daemon sheathed Dark Sister, but his men kept their weapons bared as Rhaenyra marched right up to him and began accosting him in High Valyrian. Eurwen, not understanding it, tensed herself for any signs of imminent violence.

"Now here I stand, Uncle." Rhaenyra said, switching to the Common Tongue. "The object of your ire stands before you, the reason you were disinherited. If you truly wish to reclaim your status as heir, you will have to kill me. So do it, then, and be done with all this bother."

"Princess, are you mad?!" Eurwen blurted out, aghast. Was the girl truly so reckless as to play with her very life to her mercurial uncle?

"It is the only way." Princess Rhaenyra replied, not even turning around. "Strike me down, here and now, or forever stay your hand, Uncle. Choose."

Daemon lurched forward half a step as though poised to strike, then a wide smile spread across his face.

"Well played, beloved niece." he said. "You truly are the blood of the dragon. Though I'd be careful of your Lady Eurwen; according to her, she's ended one of ours before."

And he casually tossed the egg to Princess Rhaenyra, who hurriedly caught it, then motioned for his guards to stand down.

"I yield. Dragonstone is yours, Princess." he said.

"Thank you, Uncle." Princess Rhaenyra replied. "But Lady Eurwen is my father's designated representative. Only she can accept such a yield."

Irritation flickered over Daemon's face as Princess Rhaenyra turned away from him and walked towards the Dragonkeepers, who were holding a special urn for the egg to be placed in. Eurwen stepped forwards to stand in front of the Rogue Prince.

"I will spare your pride and not force you to kneel to me," she told him. "Do you swear by your ancestors that you will end your occupation of Dragonstone, disband your army and return to King's Landing to face your brother's justice?"

Looking as though he'd been forced to swallow Sload secretion, Daemon raised one hand and swore to do so.

"I will expect you back in King's Landing within a week," Eurwen told him. "If you are not then I will return to this island with fifty times the men and drag you back to the capital by your hair."

"That will not be necessary, Lady Eurwen." Daemon replied.

"Good." she said. "Incidentally, I should inform you that Lord Corlys is most wroth with you for this little stunt. He wishes either your head or your manhood chopped off and mounted on his ship's bow, possibly both, so if I were you I'd be thinking up very good ideas on how to get back in his good graces. And to convince his wife not to roast and feed you to her dragon for spurning her daughter in favour of an admittedly pretty courtesan."

She was both pleased and amused to see a flicker of fear in Daemon's eyes; he had forgotten about The-Queen-Who-Never-Was and how she might react. Rhaenys reminded him of his mother, the one woman he feared, and she also rode his mother's old dragon. For a few seconds, Daemon was not the dashing and deadly Rogue Prince but a frightened little boy.

"Perhaps you should kill me here and now, Lady Eurwen." he said. "I fear your blade would be kinder and more merciful."

"As tempting as that is, I'm afraid I must decline." Eurwen replied with a smirk. "But perhaps you should see this as a challenge, a way to apologise for the insult without Princess Rhaenys taking your head for it."

As she said this, Syrax took to the air again with a cry and flew off into the distance, Princess Rhaenyra on her back with her silver hair streaming behind her.

"Remember, Prince Daemon. One week."

She and her entourage returned to their boats and cast off back to the ship, where Lord Corlys was waiting for them.

"Does my daughter's feckless betrothed still live, then?" was the first thing he asked.

"He does, my lord, and the dragon egg is ours thanks to the unexpected arrival of Princess Rhaenyra." Eurwen told him. "I have warned him that he should consider thinking up someting very impressive to deter you or your angry wife from killing him."

She left him to arrange the ship's departure and headed to her cabin, where she removed her helm and set it aside before rubbing her head to stave off an encroaching headache. Gods, these Targaryens and their arrogance sometimes just begged belief; there were members of the Thalmor who'd had more humility at times. A knock at the door made her jump a little.

"Come in." she called, getting a surprise when she saw who it was. "Lord Commander Westerling? What can I do for you?"

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard stepped in and closed the door carefully behind him but did not move to sit down, his face grave beneath his helmet.

"Lady Eurwen, I apologise for the intrusion but I fear we must address what was said during your confrontation with Prince Daemon." he said.

Eurwen briefly mused on playing stupid, pretending not to know what he meant or asking for specifics, but decided against it; to do so would only be insulting to the venerable old knight and it's not like she could have kept this secret forever.

"You are referring to when I claimed to have killed a Targaryen before, I presume?" she stated bluntly. "Naturally as a Kingsguard, that would be immediate cause for concern for you."

"Indeed." Westerling replied, keeping one hand on his sword.

"Well, I suppose you are owed an explanation." Eurwen said. "Though you are a smart man, Ser Harrold. You must know that there is only one Targaryen who could possibly fit the bill."

The old knight did not reply immediately, his expression hard to determine.

"Maegor." he said finally.

"Just so." Eurwen replied. "You may as well sit down, Ser Harrold. This is a bit of a long story."

Slowly, reluctantly, keeping one hand on his sword, the Lord Commander did so.

"Kingslaying is an abominable crime, my lady." he said. "You realise I am obligated to report this to His Grace?"

"Do what you must, Ser Harrold, but I make no apologies for it." Eurwen replied. "Maegor deserved to die and had I not killed him, someone else would have."

"I don't suppose I can refute that." Ser Harrold agreed. "But many have claimed to be the one who killed Maegor."

"True, but I am the one who killed him for good." Eurwen replied. "Or rather I should say, killed him again."

"Again?" Ser Harrold echoed, staring at her in disbelief.

Eurwen reached for the wine and poured out two glasses, one of which she pushed towards Ser Harrold.

"What I'm about to tell you is not to be bandied around." she said firmly. "You may tell the King if you desire, but nobody else. Am I clear?"

"First, I would hear your story." Ser Harrold replied, not touching the wine.

"As you wish, but I warn you that it is not a pleasant tale."

She took a big gulp of her wine and grimaced.

"It begins with his mother, Queen Visenya." she began. "You know of the rumours about her, I trust? That she was cold, cruel, dabbled in poisons and sorcery?"

"Yes, My Lady, but what does this have to do with Maegor?" asked Ser Harrold.

"Because it's how he came into being, Ser Harrold." Eurwen replied. "Visenya did indeed dabble in sorcery, in particular the black and forbidden art of necromancy."

A chill ran down Ser Harrold's spine. Necromancy; the art of raising the corpses of the deceased to serve in a mockery of life, an affront to all things good and godly.

"That was how she conceived Maegor." Eurwen went on. "She made herself pregnant via a ritual, involving blood magic and her brother's….essence. It worked but it resulted in Maegor being…well, a monster."

"Created by a dark magic ritual." Ser Harrold said, grabbing his wine and taking a long pull. "Is that why he survived his Trial of Seven?"

"Oh, he didn't survive that." Eurwen told him. "Few know this but Maegor actually was killed by that blow to the head he took during the trial. His mother enlisted the help of that Tyanna woman, another necromancer, and they resurrected him as a lich."

"What is a lich, my lady?" asked Ser Harrold.

"A lich is an undead sorcerer, Ser Harrold, made possible via draining one's vital life essence out of the body and into an external container." Eurwen replied. "Maegor was in essence a walking corpse but one who retained his higher brain functions and free will, unlike your typical necromantic thrall which is bound solely to the caster's will. That is also why he was never able to father a child, as undead cannot reproduce naturally."

Ser Harrold looked utterly sickened.

"By the gods." he muttered, draining his wine and pouring himself another goblet. "What led you to kill him?"

"You mean apart from the fact that he was an undead monster?" Eurwen bit out sarcastically. "He tried to make me his wife, convinced that my power would finally allow him to conceive a child. I refused and when he tried to force me, I burned him with a sunfire spell and fled. I went underground and hid, used my magics to discern what his soul container was and-"

Ser Harrold choked on his wine.

"S-Soul container?!" he spluttered. "You mean he…?"

"Yes, his soul was transferred from his body into a physical vessel in order to sustain him." Eurwen said. "But the process was not fully completed and thus he retained a weakness; simply striking Maegor down would be useless as he could not die, but if the soul container was destroyed then he would die with it."

"And that is what you did?" asked Ser Harrold.

"Yes." Eurwen replied, draining her goblet of wine. "I determined that his soul container was the crown his mother had worn, infiltrated the Red Keep and destroyed it. Maegor must have convulsed in his death throes and impaled himself upon the throne, but it mattered little; he was already dead."

Ser Harrold was now openly gawping at her.

"And you kept this secret for all these years?" he asked her incredulously.

"Well, considering that kingslaying is a monstrous crime as you yourself said, even in the case of Maegor, and that I am already mistrusted and hated by many due to being a sorceress, I think the reason for doing so should be obvious." Eurwen replied. "If you must tell the King, I will not stop you; it is your duty to report any potential threats and having slain one Targaryen king, you have ample reason to fear that I would do so again."

Ser Harrold sat there quietly for a long time, contemplating her words. Finally, he came to a decision.

"I shall inform the King, my lady." he said. "But I will also implore him to be merciful with you."

"Do as you will, Lord Commander. We both have our duty." Eurwen stoically replied.

On her return to King's Landing, Eurwen was not surprised to find herself instantly summoned to the King's chambers almost before she'd even disembarked the ship. As she approached them, she once again saw Alicent leaving the room. This time the young lady did not notice her and was already walking around the corner before Eurwen could call out a greeting, causing her to put it out of her mind in favour of going to see the King. She found him sitting by the fireplace, looking sombre and weary, but he brightened considerably at the sight of her.

"Ah, Lady Eurwen! Come, sit." he said, gesturing to the chair opposite. "Rhaenyra assured me that my brother still lived when she left Dragonstone, but a lot could have happened after that so I'd like to hear from you as well."

"Of course, Your Grace." Eurwen replied, sitting down in the offered chair. "First, I will confirm the Princess' claims that your brother still lives. Though unless he makes a serious apology to House Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys, that may not be the case for long."

King Viserys chuckled briefly before adopting a very stern and severe expression.

"Rhaenyra should not have been there in the first place." he said. "I gave her explicit instructions not to go and she disobeyed me anyway. She could have been killed!"

"Her appearance was a surprise, yes, and I agree with you that it was reckless and foolish of your only heir to put herself in danger like that." Eurwen agreed. "However, she was also very brave and also helped to deflect what had become a very tense situation. Reprimand her, of course, but don't be too harsh with her."

"I shall see." King Viserys muttered. "The egg was retrieved, yes?"

"It was, Your Grace. The Dragonkeepers are returning it to the pit as we speak." Eurwen replied. "I have also instructed Daemon to present himself here in King's Landing within one week or else I will go back to Dragonstone and drag him back by the hair."

"Good, good." said King Viserys. "If my hair were not already white, it would have gone there long ago from my brother alone. Why must he be so difficult?"

Eurwen bit her tongue, deciding that the brutally honest and scathing reference of Daemon's character probably wasn't the best thing to say right now.

"You Targaryens seem to have quite the predisposition towards arrogance," she remarked. "Aegon the Conqueror had it in spades, for example."

"Until you deflated him a little, as the family tales tell." the king joked.

"Only slightly." Eurwen admitted. "But dragons possess a fantastic amount of pride and your family are inextricably linked to them, so pride is something your realm will have to get used to."

King Viserys let out a genuine laugh.

"However, there is one thing that I should tell you, Your Grace." Eurwen said. "In trying to convince Daemon to yield the egg, certain…secrets were confessed by me, secrets which you should know."

"Oh?" inquired the King, one eyebrow quirked in curiosity. "Well, don't keep me in suspense. I'm sure it must have been very important."

Eurwen told him. By the end of it, the King's jaw hung open in shock and he stared at her with no small amount of fear.

"Well," he finally said, reaching for the wine. "That is quite a tale to tell, Lady Eurwen, and quite a secret to keep."

"For a good reason, Your Grace." Eurwen replied. "As much as Maegor is loathed, if it had been public that I killed him then there would have been many who'd seek to use it to bring me down. The Faith Militant wanted to burn me at the stake as much as they desired to kill all of House Targaryen; some in the Faith still do want that fate to befall me."

"True, Lady Eurwen." acknowledged King Viserys. "Slaying a king is a grievous sin and crime, yet how can you slay something that was already dead?"

"Your Grace?" said Eurwen, not sure where he was going with this.

"I'm saying that Maegor was already dead when you finished him for good, so technically you can be absolved of kingslaying." replied King Viserys. "That said, don't think that you can get away with it again."

"Believe me, Your Grace, I wasn't planning on making a habit out of it." Eurwen told him, then rose to leave. "Ser Harrold intends to speak with you on this matter, I should inform you."

"I will ease his concerns, Lady Eurwen." assured the King.

Nearly a full week did pass before Prince Daemon appeared in King's Landing, and when he did so he did not come alone. The Small Council meeting in progress at the time was interrupted by a loud, bellowing roar that shook the very castle itself, a roar that was to Eurwen's ears shockingly familiar, and they had all hurried out onto the balcony just in time to see Caraxes swoop past the Red Keep, being chased by an absolutely gargantuan beast of a dragon.

"It's Vhagar!" exclaimed King Viserys, fair beaming in joy at the sight of his late father's dragon.

Indeed it was. The sole surviving dragon from the era of the Conqueror had grown from fairly large to absolutely massive; her wingspan was as long as the bridge over the Green Fork at the infamous seat of House Frey, her tail as thick as an oak tree and her head large enough that she could have swallowed a horse down her gullet in one bite. She turned in the air, slowly, then came swooping back in such close proximity to the Red Keep that Eurwen felt the building itself shake as it was buffeted by the air currents generated by the flying beast and poor Lord Beesbury was almost blown off his feet by the slipstream as Vhagar passed right by the balcony they were all standing on; so close, in fact, that it was just about possible to make out a figure in the saddle on the mammoth dragon's back, a figure wearing an aqua-coloured riding gown and with her silver-white hair in ringlets that streamed behind her.

"L-Laena?!" blurted Lord Corlys, staring open-mouthed after the huge dragon and her new rider.

"It would seem that Prince Daemon took my little challenge to heart." Eurwen remarked dryly once she had recovered from the shock. "Would you call the largest currently living dragon a fitting apology for spurning your daughter's hand, Lord Corlys?"

There was no place in King's Landing large enough for Vhagar to touch down without squashing something, even the Dragonpit, so she was landed outside the city and a carriage sent to collect Prince Daemon and Lady Laena, which allowed plenty of time for a formal assembly of all nobles currently within King's Landing in the throne room to receive them. The two strode into the throne room arm-in-arm, Lady Laena positively bouncing with the still-lingering rush of riding the largest dragon in the world whilst Prince Daemon grinned much like the proverbial cat with the cream as they approached the Iron Throne, where King Viserys waited to receive them. They halted before it and bowed, awaiting judgement.

"Your Grace." Prince Daemon said. "I have returned to King's Landing in answer to your summons."

"With your previously spurned betrothed on our late father's dragon in tow as well, I see." the King remarked.

Eurwen was standing off to the side with the other Small Council members, next to Lord Corlys who seemed to be having some kind of internal battle with himself.

"How is it, Brother, that you make it both so easy and yet also so hard to stay mad at you?" King Viserys asked in exasperation.

"My talents and gifts are myriad, Your Grace." Daemon replied flippantly. "Which is why I am presently whole and hearty before you instead of writhing in agony on Driftmark whilst Princess Rhaenys feeds my manhood to her dragon."

Such flippancy in a formal court setting would have cost anyone else their tongue, yet King Viserys could not help but laugh loudly in such a manner that you would think his brother had never been engaged in near-treason for months.

"Well, if Rhaenys can find it in her to not kill you over such an insult then I suppose I must as well." King Viserys remarked.

Otto Hightower, looking as though he'd been made to swallow a bushel of vinegar-soaked lemons, made a movement that clearly indicated he was going to speak up and advocate some kind of punishment but Princess Rhaenyra beat him to the punch.

"Lady Laena, well do I remember how you would endlessly speak of your desire to become Vhagar's next rider during our previous conversations." she said with a beaming smile. "It pleases me beyond words to see your dream realised."

"Your words do me great kindness, Princess." Lady Laena replied. "And it is indeed a joy beyond all compare!"

"I am glad to hear that, Lady Laena." said King Viserys. "And I am glad too that my late father's dragon will no longer be lonely, and with a rider who cares so passionately for her."

Lord Corlys was beaming with pride as he strode forwards and embraced his daughter firmly.

"Truly, this is a great day for House Velaryon." he said. "Here I thought my command of the seas was impressive, yet you…..you command the very skies! You are truly destined for greatness, daughter."

"Indeed. First the seas, now the skies. Wherever will House Velaryon's ambitions end?" Otto Hightower remarked acidly.

Lord Corlys glared at him and Prince Daemon poised to retaliate with something undoubtedly venomous in return, but the King began speaking once more.

"Truly, this is an auspicious day for House Targaryen!" he said. "For as my brother stands before me with his betrothed and a new rider for the greatest living dragon, so too will I do my duty to expand the royal family. For I have, after long and careful deliberation, decided to remarry."

This immediately set the crowd of gathered nobles off in hushed whispers. Eurwen saw the King look meaningfully in Princess Rhaenyra's direction and in turn saw the princess nod in affirmation with a supportive smile, which seemed to give the King courage.

"I intend to marry…..the Lady Alicent of House Hightower."

The room went so deadly silent that you could have heard a pin drop. Multiple eyes turned to the lady in question, who had turned rather pale at being under all this scrutiny. Eurwen stared at her, then at her father and saw how, despite keeping his face politely neutral if pleased, Otto's eyes gleamed with triumph and suddenly it hit her like a giant's club to the gut as she made the connection. Alicent leaving the King's chambers, suddenly wearing gowns that were much more revealing, her nervousness when Eurwen spoke to her and acting like she'd been caught doing something indecent…..it had all been deliberate. Otto Hightower had staged this, sent his own daughter to comfort the King in his chambers in the wake of his wife's death, so that he would develop a rapport with her and when the time came to remarry…he'd follow Eurwen's own advice and pick someone whom he would get along with! It all seemed so clear to her now, how could she possibly have missed this in the first place?!

"Rhaenyra? Rhaenyra!"

Eurwen turned her head just in time to see the princess in question storming out of the hall, tears in her eyes and a look of utter betrayal and heartbreak on her face. Lady Laena slid her arm out from Daemon's and ran after her, whilst Daemon himself remained where he was with a look of blazing fury on his face.

"So, the leech has already begun to poison you with his venom, brother." he snarled. "I thought you were smarter than this, but clearly not."

"Now, Daemon, there's no need to be so-" King Viserys began.

But Daemon didn't bother to let him finish, instead storming over towards Otto Hightower.

"You think you've won, do you? Lord Cunt? Well, you haven't! No matter how many whelps this whore-" he pointed at Alicent as he said this, "squirts out, you and your blood will never sit that throne! Never!"

And he spun on his heel and stormed out after his niece and betrothed whilst the royal court transformed itself into a near-shouting match between those who were supportive of the match and congratulating the Hand and the King and the prospective bride, and those who were protesting that the match was highly improper or outrageous. Eurwen, for her part, had withdrawn into the shadows of the room but her eyes were pools of golden fire whose blazing glare was fixed intently on the now openly smug and smiling Otto Hightower, preening and basking in his moment of triumph. Let him enjoy it for now, she thought to herself. Let him savour his moment in the sun and then retreat back into his shadows to plot, where I will be waiting to exchange…..words over this.

Otto Hightower was in a very good mood when he returned to his office later that evening, long after the sun had set and the city was enveloped in darkness. After months and months of careful pushing and nudging, the odd manipulation here and tug of the strings there, his daughter was now set to be the next Queen of Westeros. And once the King bedded her and she had a son, the next Targaryen king to sit the throne would have the blood of the Hightowers in his veins.

"You seem pleased with yourself."

Otto swore that his heart almost gave out as he turned on a coin to stare at the chair in the corner of the room, situated by the window. In it sat Lady Eurwen, even though he had seen with his own eyes that she had not been sitting there only seconds ago; her face was in shadow but her eyes burned into him, glowing gold like the flaming beacon atop the Hightower.

"Lady Eurwen, really! What is the meaning of this, lurking in my chambers and surprising me like this?!" he demanded, anger replacing shock. "Do you not realise how improper this would appear should-"

"Oh, so now you are concerned with appearances of impropriety, are you?" Lady Eurwen remarked icily. "Funny how that does not seem to have stopped you from sending your underage daughter to the King's chambers night after night, day after day, without a chaperone."

Otto tensed on reflex before remembering that there was little his counterpart/informal rival could actually do. The time where she could have done some actual damage had already passed, the King had openly declared his intention to wed Alicent and thus any angry and damaging testimony from Eurwen would be useless.

"I fail to see what business it is of yours, Lady Eurwen, why my daughter would be visiting the King at all." he said. "And surely you should not be so quick and harsh to judge, considering you have spent many a day and night visiting the King unchaperoned as well."

Lady Eurwen rose to her feet so rapidly that Otto thought she'd teleported from sitting to standing.

"Do not attempt to change the subject like one would turn a muddy cloak inside out to hide the mud." she said, eyes flashing with fury. "How dare you?! Moreover, how could you? Tasking your daughter to seduce the king when he has not even been widowed a full year and she is barely past the cusp of womanhood!"

"I did no such thing, Lady Eurwen." Otto replied. "Though perhaps such a title is in error of your mind instantly jumps to such sordid imaginings."

"Oh, spare me!" Eurwen spat. "You think that your little plot was not obvious in hindsight? How Alicent suddenly switched from modest gowns to those that clearly accentuate her beauty and developing womanhood? How she was suddenly taking a keen interest in Valyrian histories when previously all she did was parrot the Seven-Pointed Star? I only did not pick up on it until it was too late because I honestly believed you would not stoop so low, Otto, as to sell your own daughter like a prized cow."

"Sell her? I have elevated her. I have made her the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the most powerful woman in the realm….barring you, of course." Otto said, with noticeable bitterness. "I have made her what every every girl in the realm would want to be."

"Have you, though?" Eurwen asked. "Have you truly made her into what she wants or have you simply steered her into believing that this, a marriage to a king who is thrice her age and the father of her best friend, is what she wants most in life?"

"I have given her every advantage and the highest station she could ever hope to acquire." Otto retorted. "Would you not seek the same for your own daughters had you any?"

Eurwen's hands clenched into fists.

"I had daughters once," she said. "Good, kind, sweet and wonderful girls who may not have been born of my own body but who I loved unconditionally nonetheless. And I would have willingly consigned myself to the deepest pits of Oblivion before I permitted myself to do with them as you have done with your own daughter."

"Yes, well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at that." Otto remarked. "You are, after all, a woman and thus would lack the constitution for stringent actions."

"It has nothing to do with my constitution, Lord Hand, but rather moral and ethical lines I am unwilling to cross." replied Eurwen in a voice as cold as ice. "Do you not realise that you could have ruined your daughter's reputation permanently had she been caught unchaperoned with the King? Or were you in fact hoping that such a thing would happen so that you could pressure the King guilt-free to marry Alicent in order to preserve her virtue? Judging by the way your eye just twitched, I guessed correctly."

Otto made a mental note to deal with that twitch; it was an unacceptable weakness and chink in his perfectly poised political armour.

"I don't suppose it matters now, anyway. Alicent is now destined to be Queen regardless." Eurwen continued. "But I warn you now, Lord Hand, not to allow your ambitions to get ahead of your means. Overmightiness in a vassal or leal servant is rarely received well."

"Is that a threat, Lady Eurwen?" Otto almost growled.

"No, it is a warning." Eurwen replied. "A warning to ensure that you do not choke upon your aspirations, Lord Hightower. Your daughter is to be queen, any children she bears will continue the Targaryen line and carry your blood in their veins as well as the King's. That would satisfy most men, my lord; for your sake, I would ensure it satisfies you."

And she turned on her heel and stalked from the room, leaving the fuming Hand behind. He'd thought he was quite discreet in his manoeuvrings, especially since Lady Eurwen had a well-known disdain for such politics, yet she had sussed them out quite quickly and even though it had come too late for her to actually do anything about them, it still rankled Otto that his carefully crafted scheme had been spotted by her. He'd underestimated Lady Eurwen, that much was clear, and any subsequent schemes would have to be conducted very carefully.