The Crownlands ― Rook's Rest…
Baela exhibited unwavering defiance in the face of her father, Prince Daemon, and the crown, even after discovering the events that had transpired at Rook's Rest. The news of the Caltrops' invasion of the castle and the involvement of Sunfyre and Vhagar spread throughout the Riverlands, but the mention of her grandmother, Princess Rhaenys, sent a surge of urgency through her veins. Without hesitation, Baela mounted her dragon, Moondancer, and took to the skies. The wind whipped through her hair as she soared above the clouds, her heart pounding with anxiety and worry. She had to ensure her grandmother was safe and that she had not fallen victim to Aemond's wrath. As she approached House Staunton's seat, her eyes scanned the landscape below, searching for any signs of danger. Seeing her sister Rhaena and cousin/stepbrother Prince Joffrey Velaryon waiting for her outside the castle walls brought a wave of relief crashing over her. Their subtle expressions mirrored her concern, confirming they had also left Gulltown in the Vale to travel to Rook's Rest.
Baela landed Moondancer gracefully, her heart pounding as she rushed towards her sister and her cousin/stepbrother. They embraced tightly, their shared worry and determination evident in their grip. No words were necessary as their mere presence spoke volumes. Rhaena wept uncontrollably while Rhaenyra tried to console her.
Meleys' disfigured body lay nearby, too heavy to be transported on a cart. At the sight of Meleys, Baela's thoughts immediately turned to her grandmother. Her heart sank as she stared at her grandmother's pale face, her once regal and fiery spirit now trapped within a lifeless body in a seemingly endless slumber. Rhaenys had always been a pillar of strength and comfort in Baela's life ever since they first met on Driftmark. Seeing her in this state, Baela felt a profound sense of uncertainty. "Grandmother?" she spoke, gently nudging Rhaenys's shoulder for a response, but none came. Please wake up, grandmother. Rhaenys remained unresponsive, unable to move or awake since falling into a coma. I-I already lost mother. I can't lose you too. "Gr… Grandmother?" she nudged again but was again met with silence. "Please, grandmother, wake up. I need you. Rhaena needs you… We need you. Please wake up…"Tears welled up in Baela's eyes as she recalled the countless times Rhaenys had comforted her after her mother died, offering solace and guidance. She had always been the rock that Baela could lean on, who had taught her the ways of Westeros, given her and her sister a new place to call home, and welcomed them into House Velaryon with open arms.
Rhaena stood shoulder to shoulder with her sister, their presence unwavering beside their grandmother's motionless form. A deep longing filled their hearts, yearning for the day she would awaken from her comatose state and embrace them again. They clung to her, reluctant to release their grip, but as the door creaked open and Maester Layn entered, Baela's mood shifted to irritation and frustration, etched across her face like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury. She longed for a moment of respite, a chance to gather her thoughts and emotions without the intrusion of the maester's presence.
"My ladies," Layn said, "but I'm afraid I must need a moment of privacy."
"B-But… grandmother…" Rhaena protested.
"Will be taken care of, I assure you. But it does no good for the body nor the mind if―"
Layn could not utter a word before Baela swiftly spun around and punched him in the face as hard as she could. The force of her blow caught him entirely off guard and knocked him off his feet, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. With a pained groan, Layn instinctively covered his nose, which was now bleeding profusely. The sound of bones crunching could be heard as Layn pressed his fingers against his nasal dorsum, trying to assess the damage. As Layn tried to gather his thoughts, he couldn't help but wonder what had caused Baela to react so violently. Rhaena, witnessing her elder sister's unexpected reaction, was visibly distressed. Meanwhile, Baela, although she had successfully broken Layn's nose with just one punch, also felt the pain in her knuckles. However, she didn't hesitate for a moment longer and stormed out of the room, her emotions running high.
Baela's footsteps echoed through the halls. Her mind was a whirlwind of anger, hurt, and determination. She knew that Aemond had to be held accountable for his actions, and she was not one to sit idly by while he wreaked havoc on their family. At that moment, Baela embodied her father's spirit and was fully prepared to mount Moondancer and hunt down Aemond for what he did to her grandmother. Baela abruptly stopped and started hitting the walls with force repeatedly. Her intense anger was evident as she declared, "I swear I am going to find that one-eyed little wretch and feed him to his own dragon! I'll pluck that sapphire from his head and shove it down his throat! Then I'll throw his decaying body in the Dragonmont and dance on his ashes! I'll… I'll…!"
"You'll accomplish nothing except doing exactly what he wants you to."
Breathless, Baela glared intently at the person who uttered those words. However, to her surprise, it was Jaehaerys, who had learned of her arrival from Harrenhal. Despite still recovering from his injuries, the Silver Dragon made it a point to check on his wife. Baela's frustration and anger boiled within her, threatening to consume her entirely. She couldn't bear the weight of her emotions and in a desperate attempt to release her pent-up emotions, Baela continued to pound the walls, her fists striking the hard surface with relentless force. Each blow echoed her inner turmoil, the distress and fear of the uncertainty that had plagued her since her arrival. She pounded and pounded until her knuckles were raw and began to peel, her hands trembling with exhaustion.
But Jaehaerys, ever the pillar of strength between the two, refused to let Baela suffer alone. He reached out and firmly grasped her wrist, his touch both commanding and gentle. Baela fought against him, her body writhing in defiance, but Jaehaerys held on, refusing to let her slip away into the abyss of her own despair. With a tenderness that only true love could bring, Jaehaerys pulled Baela close, enveloping her in his protective embrace. He held her tightly, his arms a shield against the storm raging within her. No matter how hard she fought against his embrace or how hard the blows she landed, Jaehaerys refused to let her go until Baela's struggles gradually subsided and eventually exhausted herself.
Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Baela buried her face in Jaehaerys' neck and began to cry, her body trembling with the weight of her burdens, the pain and anguish pouring out of her. And in that moment, Jaehaerys became her anchor, her solace amid chaos. "Tell me she's going to be okay~," she sobbed.
"Shh, shh. Easy, easy. It's okay, Baela. I'm here." With each stroke of his hand against her back, Jaehaerys whispered soothing words, his voice a balm to her wounded soul. He reassured her that she was not alone and would always be there to support and share her burdens.
––––––––––––––––––––––––––
As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating the room with its golden light, Jaehaerys was the first to awaken as the soft morning light cast gentle shadows on his face. He took a deep breath, savoring the fresh scent of morning dew that seeped through the window. Turning his head, he turned his gaze to catch a glimpse of Baela, her back facing him. He studied her momentarily, taking in the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in and out. Despite the apparent distance, he knew Baela better than most - her fierce and fiery nature, strong-willed independence, bravery, and straightforward honesty. Yet, in the rarest moments, he could sense the emotional vulnerability beneath her exterior, the remnants of tears that had stained her face from the previous night. But now, as she slept soundly beside him, her breathing was steady and calm. He wrapped his arm around her in a gentle embrace, savoring the warmth of her body pressed against his. She stirred slightly in her sleep, murmuring before gradually waking to the new day.
"I never meant for you to see me like this…"
"Everyone has their moments, Baela. I know how you feel." Jaehaerys continued to hold her close, still spooning her. I had mine when Daeron was killed. Aunt Rhaenyra had been there for me in the courtyard when I wanted nothing more than to be alone to grieve. Baela didn't pull away from him or reject his advances, instead showing a level of trust and acceptance that Jaehaerys found reassuring. "We're doing everything we can for Rhaenys," he reassured her. "I promise you that."
"I know. And I'm grateful. I trust you," Baela then shifted around in bed so she could face him, "but I don't trust them around my grandmother."
"Being selective about our maesters is a luxury we cannot afford, Baela. Given Alwyn's presence in the capital, we have no alternative to Layn."
"I'd rather have her be tended to by Kelvyn instead of someone I don't know." Baela was too worn out even to argue. "Do you think grandmother will wake up?"
"Her condition is uncertain, but I have faith in her," Jaehaerys reassured her. "It was a close call when we defeated Aemond and Vhagar. Yet Rhaenys is a strong, intimidating woman. She doesn't go down easily."
"That she doesn't." Baela found solace in confiding her frustrations to Jaehaerys. His attentive ear and thoughtful responses made her feel heard and understood. As a gesture of affection, she gently placed her hand on Jaehaerys's cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against her palm as she leaned in to kiss him. However, just before their lips were about to meet, their moment was abruptly interrupted by the thunderous dragon roaring outside.
Baela and Jaehaerys hastily leaped out of their bed, their ears perked up in anticipation as the resounding roars of the dragons filled the air. Each roar carried a distinct volume and pitch, and the two dragonriders could quickly identify the familiar sounds of their own. However, amidst the cacophony, one roar struck them as peculiarly unfamiliar. It reverberated with a deep and guttural tone, a clear indication of an old dragon, but a large one. Astonishingly, their own dragons were responding to this creature with their roars. It was only a matter of time before the commotion reached their respective families, who would soon join in with their hollering and shouting, and this could mean only one thing - trouble.
"Shit! Hūrlilio! (Moondancer!)" Baela hastily put on her clothes, not bothering to fix her disheveled hair before rushing out the door.
Jaehaerys furrowed his brows in deep thought. He carefully picked up a black robe and elegantly draped it over his shoulders, ensuring it fell perfectly in place. Once satisfied with his appearance, he hurried after Baela outside to investigate the commotion.
––––––––––––––––––––––––––
"*Reeeeeee!*" Corxes screeched aggressively.
"*Raaaaaaaah!*" Maelyx roared.
The sudden appearance of an unknown dragon startled Vermax and Arrax, causing them to emit ear-piercing screeches. Their dorsal spines stood erect, clearly showing defensive hostility towards the unfamiliar creature. The newcomer was massive, towering over the two dragons, who appeared to be tiny in comparison. Despite the significant difference in size, Vermax and Arrax remained steadfast and refused to back down. They snapped their jaws and locked eyes with the elder dragon, holding their ground and showing no signs of surrender.
"*Grruaaaaaaa!*" Silverwing snarled.
"*Urrrrrrrrrr!*" Vermithor emitted a deep, rumbling growl from deep within his throat.
"Wait! Wait! Wait! Stop! Please, I'm not your enemy!" Nettles found herself in a precarious situation as she raised her hands, attempting to placate both the Targaryen dragons and her own. She stood between them, yet the Blacks unsheathed their swords and pointed them in her direction as if she were an invader. Despite her frantic protests and attempts to reason with them, her words fell on deaf ears, and no one seemed willing to listen to her.
"*Rrraaaaaaah!*" Syrax roared.
"Who are you?! Who sent you!" Lord Staunton demanded, hesitant about being between dragons.
As Nettles turned around, she revealed a massive dragon standing behind her. The creature was as big as Silverwing but had a more imposing presence due to its height, bulk, and aggressive demeanor. It was a male wild dragon that had lived for over fifty years, and its muddy brown scales betrayed its unappetizing diet of mutton, which earned it the name 'Sheepstealer.' Nettles assured everyone that Sheepstealer was usually not aggressive towards humans but could be vicious and ill-tempered under certain circumstances. However, Sheepstealer showed fierce hostility towards humans threatening him and was quick to defend himself against other dragons who outnumbered him, and his viciousness was apparent to all.
Baela and Jaehaerys, after hearing the loud commotion outside, quickly made their way out to investigate. As soon as they stepped out of the door, their eyes were met with an unexpected sight. They saw a dragon, one that they had never seen before, thereby the reason for causing a stir, and upon spotting the dragon, Baela and Jaehaerys instinctively moved in front of Nettles and their own dragons, Moondancer and Vermithor, with one hand raised in a defensive gesture. Their hearts were pounding with fear and anticipation, as they didn't know if Sheepstealer was a friend or foe. They stood their ground, ready to do whatever it takes to protect themselves and their companions if the need arises.
"Dohaerās! Dohaerās, Hūrlilio! (Serve! Serve me, Moondancer!)" Baela commanded.
"Lykirī, Vērmithari. Lykirī! (Be calm, Vermithor. Calm down!)" Jaehaerys reiterated.
"Did Beatrice send you?! Unwin?! Aemond?! Criston?! Whose loyalty to you owe allegiance, girl!"
"I'm on nobody's side, ya dumb highborn cunts! I'm here 'cause I need to speak to your king!" Nettles protested again. Her determination was unwavering.
Aegon, curious about her purpose, pressed further. "What business do you have with our father?" he inquired.
"I need to see 'em!"
Aemma, however, remained skeptical. "That alone is not sufficient reason to request an audience," she countered, her voice tinged with doubt.
"You can't just show up out of nowhere on dragonback, not tell us who you are or who sent you, and then insist on repeatedly making demands on having an audience with our father, King Aeonar Targaryen, the First of His Name," Viserys said. "So, for Seven hells, can you please call off your dragon and start from the beginning?"
"There's no time!" Nettles exclaimed, her urgency palpable.
The continuous back-and-forth of questions and accusations proved pointless, as no progress was made. The conflict intensified as the dragons became more aggressive and assessed each other's strength. Eventually, Sheepstealer and Vermithor emerged as the first two contenders to face off. Despite the fifty-year age difference, the Bronze Fury stood out as one of the Blacks' largest and most physically powerful dragons. However, before either of them could take any action, a sudden earthquake shook the ground beneath them. The vibrations traveled through the earth and could be heard from miles away, with each tremor growing stronger as the source approached, causing Vermithor and Sheepstealer to stop fighting and cautiously sniff the air immediately, picking up the scent of another dragon nearby.
"*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOHH!*"
The deafening, dragon-like roar echoed through the air, serving as a strong warning to any potential adversaries. Sheepstealer, sensing something was behind him, noticed a slight movement and quickly turned his gaze, and as he turned, he saw the silhouette of Vaelor emerging from the mist-shrouded hills to the north and closing in on him. Vaelor's imposing size triggered Sheepstealer's survival instincts, causing him to become exceedingly cautious. The Swiftrunner towers over this older yet smaller dragon in front of him. As Vaelor sniffed Sheepstealer's scent, he quickly realized that this wild dragon came from Dragonstone – his territory. Baring his teeth, Vaelor emitted a menacing growl, asserting his dominance. If Grey Ghost, another wild dragon he killed, defied him and refused to submit. What course of action would Sheepstealer take? Sheepstealer again, looking up at Vaelor with reverberated growls in his throat, turned his body around every time the Swiftrunner circled around him.
Nettles gazed upwards with a sense of wonder, her eyes filled with awe. A smile graced her face as she found herself in the presence of Vaelor, not from a distance as she had always seen him before, but up close and personal. This was a rare opportunity, one that she had only dreamt of back in her village on Dragonstone after the Swiftrunner slayed Grey Ghost. As she beheld the magnificent creature, a surge of joy and anticipation filled her voice as she exclaimed, "It's him… Yes, it's him again. The Black Dread reincarnate," she said, her words carried a subtle undertone of excitement, a hint of thrill that could not be contained.
Viserys couldn't help but overhear. Again? What do you mean 'again'?
"*Grrrrrrr!*" Sheepstealer growled.
Having reached the limit of his patience with a potential would-be interloper, Vaelor reared himself onto his hind legs, standing at full height, and puffed his chest. A deep rumble emanated from his throat, creating a low vibration as he parted his jaws to release a resounding roar composed of a multitude of pitches. "*RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOHH!*" The deafening sound, beginning with a low tone and culminating in a piercing high pitch, reverberated through the air in various wavelengths. The sheer force of Vaelor's roar unleashed at such proximity compelled everyone present to instinctively cover their ears and strain under the immense pressure caused by the shockwaves rippling across the vicinity of Rook's Rest.
Nettles, overwhelmed by the astonishing sight before her, instinctively shielded her ears from the loud noise. The powerful vibrations emanating from the roar were so forceful that they threatened to propel her backward, nearly causing her to lose her balance.
Vermax and Arrax, despite their smaller size, vigorously flapped their wings in an attempt to counteract the powerful gust generated by Vaelor's resounding roar. The sheer force of his bellow threatened to propel them skyward, challenging their ability to maintain their position on the ground. Syrax emitted a high-pitched shrill while raising one of her wings to cover her face, seeking protection from the forceful gust of sound produced by her mate.
After the deafening roar subsided, Vaelor kept his gaze fixed on Sheepstealer, anticipating the next move of the wild dragon. The question lingered in his mind – would Sheepstealer submit or defy him? If the former were chosen, Vaelor would reaffirm his position as an alpha dragon. However, if Sheepstealer chose the latter, Vaelor would once again demonstrate the consequences of challenging his status, much like Grey Ghost, who had adamantly refused to accept his dominance after undergoing the sīmontarlinnon (metamorphosis).
Sheepstealer remained silent, still reeling from Vaelor's alpha call. The intensity of the Swiftrunner's menacing gaze caused the wild dragon to respond with a series of growls and clicking vocalizations while simultaneously lowering his body to the ground. In a display of submission, Sheepstealer raised his head and puffed out his throat, revealing the vibrant colors that adorned his throat in a distinctly draconic manner.
Vaelor's piercing gaze remained fixed on the wild dragon before him; his attention was unwavering. As if guided by an innate sense, he immediately recognized Sheepstealer's subtle display of submission and emitted a low, satisfied growl of approval. Good. Sheepstealer had chosen to submit and recognize him as the alpha, thus ensuring the wild dragon's survival. His keen senses picked up on every nuance of the dragon's body language, subtle movements, and expressions.
Nettles' body trembled as she struggled to regain her footing, her ears still ringing from the deafening blast. As the sound slowly subsided, her hearing gradually returned, and she shook her head to clear the remaining fuzziness. The dragonseed's heart was still racing with excitement after witnessing the breathtaking display of Vaelor's power and dominance as the alpha dragon. Seeing him up close was one thing, but seeing him in action was beyond her wildest dreams. Lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice the presence of another figure behind her until she bumped into them, startling her out of her reverie.
"You are either very brave or very foolish to come unprepared, girl."
Nettles whirled around, only to find herself gazing up at Aeonar, who loomed over her with an imposing presence. The tales of his prowess as the Young Dragon, renowned for his reputation as one of the realm's capable spymasters and military strategists, had not prepared her for the sheer intensity he exuded in person. From her perspective, the rumors had failed to capture his power's true essence. "Oh! My king," she exclaimed, flopping onto the ground. Unlike many who understood proper protocol when seeing the king, Nettles prostrated herself on all fours; her head bowed in reverence. "We've heard so much about you back in our village. It's an honor to meet you finally!"
Aeonar's eyebrow arched as he observed the young girl before him. Her intentions were a mystery to him. She had a petite frame, dark brown skin, crooked teeth, and a scar on her nose. Her black hair was unkempt, but her brown eyes held a fierce determination that belied her appearance. Despite her youth, she fearlessly sought him out, displaying no reverence for anyone's status, nobility or royal. Aeonar estimated her age to be no more than sixteen, the same age as his sons Aegon and Viserys. "Rise," he commanded.
Nettles stood up.
"What is your name, girl?"
"Nettles, ser."
"You will address me as 'Your Grace,' or I will have my Kingsguard cut out your tongue."
"Sorry, se― I mean, Your Grace."
"That's better. Now… which village do you hail from?"
"Bāmvesremio, Your Grace."
"Dragonstone? You're quite a long way from home." Aeonar continued questioning her. The Young Dragon employed his innate talents as a spymaster to unravel the truth. His objective was clear – to ascertain whether Nettles spoke honestly, concealed any secrets, or fabricated falsehoods. Regardless of the outcome, he was determined to uncover the hidden depths of her intentions. "And how did you come to acquire this dragon?"
"Sheepstealer, Your Grace," Nettles corrected him.
"Excuse me?"
"Sheepstealer. That's his name… as I'm sure you know the reasons why."
"I'd rather hear from you," Aeonar firmly insisted. "Now answer my question: how did you tame a wild dragon with little to no training?"
"It wasn't that hard, really," Nettles said proudly. Turning toward Sheepstealer, she could see other dragons sniffing him, taking in his scent. Although Sheepstealer would instinctively snap his jaws at those who got too close, Vaelor's piercing gaze kept him still. "I brought him freshly slaughtered sheep every morning. He didn't seem to mind. No one else wanted to go anywhere near him, but Sheepstealer learned to get used to me. While he ate the occasional sheepdog, he never harmed a shepherd. Once he trusted me enough, Sheepstealer allowed me to climb onto his back. So I came here."
Interesting. Aeonar focused solely on the words being spoken. Although the Young Dragon's grip on sanity may have slipped as he spiraled deeper into the Targaryen madness, he was no fool either. He recognized the potential value of Nettles and Sheepstealer in furthering his agenda and crushing the Caltrops or anyone who stood in his way too alluring to pass up. However, Aeonar was not yet convinced of Nettles' worth. She lacked the necessary training and familiarity of House Targaryen's methods for mastering their dragons. Aeonar would need more convincing before he could fully trust her with such a powerful weapon. "Let me get a closer look at you," his eyes traced Nettles up and down, encircling her like a predator stalking his prey.
"Your Grace?" Nettles remained motionless but expressed discomfort.
Aeonar gazed at Nettles with a scrutinizing look, observing her every move and analyzing every word that left her mouth. As she spoke, her story seemed to align with what Aeonar had heard, but one question lingered in his mind. Only those with pure Valyrian blood or descent could hope to claim one of these fierce creatures, and Nettles' hair and eyes failed to display the Targaryen or Velaryon traits. Aeonar concluded that her ancestry must have been diluted over time, leaving him to wonder how she had accomplished such a feat. "You're a seed, aren't you?" he asked.
"A what?"
"Bastards of Valyrian descent, usually sired by members of House Targaryen, who live in the islands in the Blackwater Bay. Who was your father?"
"I don't know, Your Grace," Nettles answered. "It was just me and my mother growing up."
"What color was your mother's hair or eyes?"
"What does it matter?"
"Everything. Now… answer me. Tell it all, and tell it true. It is a grave crime to lie to a king."
"Ugh, okay, okay! She had black hair like mine, but her eyes shone a violet hue."
"Hmm." She claims she has no idea who her father is, but her mother has one thing. However, it's still not enough. "Then why have you come to me? You could be another Caltrop spy hoping to get close enough to kill me."
"What could I get by doing that when I'm surrounded?" Nettles retorted.
Good. She knows her chances are impossible if she goes that route.
"I came because I want to help you."
"We already have plenty of dragons at our disposal. Why do we need another?"
"Yeah, but what would you say if some of the villagers back home mentioned something about trouble across the Narrow Sea?"
That caught Aeonar's attention. "Go on," he pressed.
"It's just gossip. Said some city-states are building a fleet of some kind, one that'll completed in less than a few weeks before they set sail. Why?"
"The Triarchy," Corlys recollected.
"Who are they?" Nettles inquired.
If what she's saying is true, then we'll have an old score to settle. "Nettles, was it?" Aeonar said.
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Your mind is soft, unhoned, undisciplined. Your talent is undeniable, I'll give you that. But your readiness to ride a dragon and your understanding of our ways is woefully lacking. You need proper training."
"And how am I supposed to do that?" Nettles asked.
"Viserys," Aeonar called out.
"Yes, father?" Viserys approached.
"I'm placing Nettles in your charge. You are her handler now. Teach her everything you know."
"Huh?" Nettles looked surprised.
"If-If you think it's for the best, father…" Viserys complied.
"What?!" Lord Staunton objected.
"Your Grace, I fear it would be most unwise. We know little about this girl or the rumors she spoke of. I recommend we send emissaries to ascertain the truth," Otto recommended.
"I will not be held back by your politicking or meddling in my affairs, Otto. We're in the middle of a war. And I'll be damned if anyone insists on getting in my way," Aeonar warned. He turned to the rest of his family. "Get to your dragons. We're going back to King's Landing." So, you've finally shown yourselves once more. Sharako, Racallio… I'll show you the might of Old Valyria when it's wielded by a true heir of the bloodline.
The Narrow Sea…
As the Velaryon fleet disembarked from Rook's Rest to return to King's Landing, Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, stood atop the deck of his flagship, gazing up at the eleven dragons soaring overhead. Each majestic creature cast a dark, eclipsing shadow over the ships in his armada, a sight that never ceased to amaze him. Despite losing Meleys, the Blacks had gained another in the form of Sheepstealer. The dragons flew in a precise formation, with Vaelor, the largest of them all, leading the pack. Following closely behind were Vermithor and Silverwing, with Syrax, Corxes, Maelyx, Vermax, Arrax, Moondancer, and Tyraxes not far behind. And then there was Sheepstealer, the newest addition to their ranks, flying effortlessly among the others. Lord Corlys knew that they couldn't afford to let their guard down, not with the Triarchy remnants lurking in the shadows. Having received a warning from Nettles, Corlys had already sent word to Driftmark ahead of time before their departure.
The dimly lit room in his ship's private quarters held a solemn atmosphere as Corlys stood by his wife Rhaenys's bedside, who remained comatose. Princess Rhaenys' stillness was only interrupted by her chest's gentle rise and fall as she breathed. Standing beside him was his younger granddaughter, Rhaena, who clutched a dragon egg in her hands. The egg had a striking appearance, with pale pink scaly layers and black swirls that contrasted against each other. Lord Corlys held Rhaena close to him; his arms wrapped protectively around her as if afraid that she might slip away. Rhaena, in turn, looked up at her grandfather with a mixture of fear and trust, as if knowing that he was the only one who could keep her safe in this challenging time.
Corlys stood tall on the deck of his ship, feeling the salty ocean breeze caressing his face. He was determined to end the Triarchy once and for all, no matter the cost.
…And repay the favor owed…
…to the man…
…who nearly killed him.
Chapter End
Author's Note: Once again, Baela has chosen to defy the crown and her father by flying off to Rook's Rest on Moondancer. But she wasn't the only one. Rhaena and Joffrey also left the Vale to converge on Rook's Rest to check on the others. Man, Baela sure has one hell of a punch when she's upset. Good thing Jaehaerys was there to calm her down, huh? But that's not all: Nettles and Sheepstealer are back, though it wasn't a pleasant greeting straight out of the gate. They didn't trust her. When Vaelor showed up, this wild dragon instead chose to submit rather than fight, thereby sparing him the same fate Grey Ghost had. Although Nettles was more than eager to help, Aeonar still didn't trust her and assigned her to his son Viserys. Because they were warned ahead of time, the Blacks will be more prepared to face off against the Triarchy remnant when they do decide to launch an invasion. That'll take time, of course. So what do you think will happen in the meatime? Let me know.
jordanjanellejoy: I love much for writing Baela the way she deserves to be written. She is so much like her father. Though I didn't want her to break a Maesters nose that moment reminds me of Baela and Rhaena entering the Red Keep on horseback, and Baela...heavily pregnant, hits a knight of The Kingsguard with a whip. Even while pregnant she was willing to give people the business.
C.E.W: So Baela Targaryen finally showed up, though I didn't see the Rhaena and Joffrey showing up coming. They were sent to the Vale to be protected, now... they are vulnerable. Not just to the Caltrops, the Triarchy but also to Aeonar and his growing madness since Daeron's death. Jaehaerys has Baela's back as she had his when his grandfather King Viserys died. They have each other, and that's what they need.
A new dragonrider has arrived, Nettles from Dragonstone arriving on Sheepstealer. Aeonar understandably doesn't trust, and even if he hadn't gone mad he still wouldn't. Now he has assigned his son Prince Viserys to teach her, wonder how that's going to go.
Then there is the Triarchy coming with a large fleet, although the Blacks have warning and have time to prepare for its arrival. Odds are, surprise won't be on the Triarchy's side as it was in the books. The Blacks have more dragon riders than they did in the books, and better trained ones at that. With Hugh Hammer and Ulf White defected, the Triarchy have no dragon rider support, but will be harmed with anti-dragon weapons. The Caltrops might keep Aemond and Vhagar back to help rally Caltrop forces while the Blacks are dealing with the Triarchy.
Questions:
Will the unconscious Rhaenys be taken to King's Landing, or Driftmark? With the Triarchy coming, it might be dangerous for her to be treated in Driftmark.
―King's Landing, where she'll be better protected
Will Driftmark be better fortified, what about Spicetown?
―Yes - and Spicetown will be put on high alert
Will the Velaryon treasure be moved? Given that the Triarchy burned it down in the books.
―Yes
How are the Dornish reacting to the civil war so far?
―Qoren Martell and all of Dorne is still watching, though some are expecting the Blacks to win
DonquixoteMel: It would be cool if nettles was his baseborn daughter he had a one night stand before he was with alicent
garrysprawson123: I think Viserys and Nettles will grow closer in time, and formed a romantic relationship
rogerlopez99: Looks like they found out about the Triarchy and are preparing and are preparing for battle the scene with Baela and Jaehaerys was heartwarming and now Nettles and Sheepstealer are here, I like the little backstory of Nettles and how she bonded with Sheepstealer. looks like Corlys is about to face the man that nearly killed him
Questions
I want to take this off my chest, is the black going to be victories against the Triarchy, lately some of the chapter have the blacks win major battle, despite the last battle they nearly won however I fear future battles only the blacks are winning and I fear that the story could be predictable
―There will be losses
Is Nettles going to have the same role as the books or is she going to have some changes
―I'll look into the novel for more research to see the extent of her role, but I'm hoping for some changes
randomdude24: Well, I was wondering when Neetles would show up again this time with a dragon. Unknown how loyal she will be, I think her intentions are pure and doesn't want to anger the rider of Valeor. Having Viserys as her handler gives her the opportunity to learn how to properly ride a dragon, but I wonder what would stop her from turning her cloak given the chance.
Now, with the knowledge, the Triarchy is preparing their fleet. gives the Black's a good chance to prepare for the Battle of the Gullet since they will be fighting against a force of 10,000, better chance to properly fight them. Plus, with an abundance of dragon riders with the entire fleet, it seems almost sucicde to even try.
Questions
So is Coryls in better shape to physically fight? I know his last battle left him knocking on deaths door
―He's still a tough veteran, but he's not as young as he used to be. So he's gonna have some help if it does come to a boarding/close-range combat again.
What did the Caltrops promise the Triarchy? I know they have a vendetta against Aeonar and others, but what do they gain if anything?
―The Stepstones and its shipping lanes, all the Blacks' dragons skulls as trophies, and full control of the Disputed Lands against Volantis and Pentos.
So if the Triarchy attacks, what are the Caltrops going to do? Are they literally a distraction to rebuild their forces and launch a counter offensive while Aeonar isn't focused on them?
―They're going to use that time to recover and build up their strength if they're to mount another attack. But they know the Crownlands is too well defended.