117 AC, Braavos
The Titan of Braavos, it was called, and it was all Ophaella could stare at for the last two hours of their flight. Larger than life by half and practically glowing in the late afternoon sun, the Titan rose from the sea well before the Free City of Braavos was even a blip on the edge of the horizon. Her legs ached and her arms felt weak from griping onto a pair of soft spikes for dear life, but the sight of the looming figure renewed her waning energy in full.
She sat up just a little bit higher, glancing over at Laena and her father to see if they were as taken by the large statue as she was. She could scarcely see them, even with the setting sun now to their backs, and the most she got was a flash of white hair set against red and dark green-brown scales.
Laena was the first to start their descent, leading with the sheer size of Vhagar alone, and Ophaella and Daemon were quick to follow. They swooped down past the Titan, each turning their heads to look up at the great and intimidating figure before they flew past him and landed on the first island they came to.
Vhagar, for her part, felled nearly a dozen small trees with the forced of her landing. She cleared the way for Daemon on Caraxes to land in her wake, followed lastly by Ophaella and Dorenka. She gripped the soft spines on her dragon's back even tighter, muscles all but screaming from the strain of keeping herself straddled all day. A scarier first experience on her own, she could scarcely imagine, and when she finally slipped off her dragons back she practically collapsed on the grass.
"That dragon of yours is a menace for the local foliage," Her father called, sounding out of breath himself.
The sheer size of the three fully grown dragons practically overwhelmed the small island, and it was not long before Ophaella found herself under a wing or two
"Vhagar has done us the great service of making a suitable camp site," Laena said, voice carrying out clear as a bell as she regarded Daemon. Even Ophaella, who did not know her very well and who had only heard her speak a hand full of times, could tell she was being smart. She was probably smiling, even if she did not have much reason to, as she rubbed the side of Vhagar. "You could do her the courtesy of a thank you."
Ophaella rolled over and threw out her arms, breathing in deeply as her father began to respond back, deep voice curling around words of Old Valyrian that she had not yet managed to learn. Her heartbeat felt like it was in her ears and her chest felt like it was going to explode.
"Can you believe it?" Aemond crowded her as he sat down on her right, words unburdened after letting Laena do all of the work of flying for the better part of a full day. "Did you see the size of it? I have read about it, but I could never even imagine it would be that big."
The air was different here – less rotten, less acidic, less heavy. She flipped over again, taking in a big gulp of air as she looked over at Aemond. His face was red and chapped from the wind, but he looked happier than she had seen him in the entire time she had known him. She was overwhelmed by the smell of dragon and sweat when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hauled her up into a sitting position. When he was certain she wouldn't dramatically flop backwards, as she so desperately wanted to and preferably into a bed, he grabbed her hand and forced her to her feet.
Turning just as Caraxes did, he pointed through a hole in the trees and gap between wings to the massive city just beyond their little island.
The shadow of the Titan loomed long over the choppy water, but Ophaella could already tell – even with the rapidly disappearing sun, that it positively dwarf King's Landing.
Or perhaps it didn't.
Perhaps she had been cooped up the Red Keep for so long she had lost all sense of what size and scale truly was.
She knew Runestone was too small – by influence and by size – and that was why her mother loved it so dearly. She knew that King's Landing was too large. She knew that she had not yet been able to find a place that was just the right size. But she also knew that she had years and years to figure that out.
"I bet it's-"
"Aemond," Her father called, turning his back to the city and Laena with a scowl on his face. "Come. We will gather firewood for our camp here tonight. Apparently there is a Sealord's son skulking around the city that we must be wary of."
Laena rolled her eyes and turned towards Ophaella, waving Daemon off with a dismissive hand.
Aemond lingered for a brief moment, glancing at Ophaella once before he dutifully followed after Daemon as he disappeared into the thick trees.
"You father does love his drama, doesn't he." Laena shook her head. "Now, help me unload our stuff from Vhagar so we may send her our dragons on their way."
"They're leaving?"
The thought made Ophaella panic.
She had only just gotten to ride Dorenka for the first time. How was she meant to send her away, when she might grow tired of being left alone and decide to not come back?
"There is only room for one Titan in Braavos," Laena said, coming to stand next to Ophaella. She looked nervous for a moment, as her eyes danced over her face, and it caused Ophaella to practically squirm. Save for Aemond and her father, Laena was the only other person in all of Westeros – and now Essos- that knew what happened at the Tourney.
She could practically feel the judgement that passed between them.
"Our dragons will fly East, to where they can hunt in safety. Vhagar is a prickly sort and she cherishes her time alone. I believe your new friend is much the same," Laena said, lacing her fingers together in front of her stomach. She glanced over at Ophaella's dragon, at the broad side of black scales and the long line of her tail. The island they landed on was small as it was, but they were practically toes to teets at the center of their three dragons, and Ophaella knew that something would have to be done before long or one of them would find themselves underfoot and reduced to jelly.
Ophaella shuffled on her feet. "What if they do not come back?"
They, was not strictly speaking, accurate.
She had little doubt that Vhagar and Caraxes would return to their riders without question. Laena and her father had earned their respect and their loyalty. Ophaella did not. In fact, she considered it nothing short of a miracle that their flight had gone off without a hitch. Her confidence for those sorts of miracles continuing was not incredibly high.
"They will. Once they have eaten their fill and seen what they want to see of this part of the world, they will return and it will be time for us to move on."
Laena looked at for a moment longer before she turned to Vhagar and climbed up to the saddle. They all traveled light, trusting their extensive coffers to keep them in comfort. At least, Ophaella assumed that was the case. She had never once seen money pass from her father's hands to the hands of another and she was not entirely sure he even carried any.
His bright white hair and blood red dragon might be currency enough.
Laena dropped three bags at Vhagar's side, each large than the last, before she landed on her feet next to them. She wiped her hands on her riding cloak, turning around in place to take in the small clearing.
She approached the smallest of the bags and began to rummage around in it, pulling pots and pans and sachets of spices out.
She was practiced at this – a fact which surprised Ophaella, though she was certain it probably shouldn't.
"Your mother took you out on the moors around Runestone, yes?" She phrased it as a question, though it was clear that it was not. She looked at Ophaella only long enough to for her to confirm with a nod, before she beckoned her forward. She pattted the spot on the ground next to her. "Then you can help me find build the fire when they get back with the wood. Did she teach you how to make her rabbit stew? The one with the dandelion flowers?"
Laena paused, arms freezing deep in the bag.
"You knew her?"
"I did, for a time."
"Whe-"
"This entire place smells of goat shit," Her father said, announcing his return by shouting out through the trees.
Of course other people knew her mother.
Of course it was more than just her and her father.
Her mother had lived an entire life before she even existed. She knew that. But the confirmation of someone besides Daemon Targaryen – someone who might have something nice to say - having some memories of her mother made her feel oddly sick to her stomach.
"The whole world smells of goat shit, according to you. Braavos was your idea," Laena said, shaking her braided curls back over her shoulders to get them out of the way. "I suggested Pentos."
"Your father is going to Pentos."
"You like my father."
"I tolerate your father because he tolerates me."
He dropped the firewood on Laena's other side, gesturing for Aemond to do the same, before he made himself comfortable against one of the two remaining bags. Aemond dropped down next to Ophaella, elbowing her to move out of the way just a bit so he would not be so close Caraxes's tail sticking out from the trees. At some point, the red dragon had retreated into the dark, slinking and sliding like the oversized worm that he was. Her own dragon seem content to sit on her own pile of felled trees with her head hanging over the edge of the island, back to them all.
"We walked to the edge," Aemond, whispering so that the now bickering adults would not hear them. "The city looks even bigger from that side."
"-ould I make dinner?"
"Why would I?"
"You are a woman," Her father said, earning himself a withering glare as Laena began to stack up the logs for a fire.
"And you have spent more time out from under your family's boot. Surely you have fed yourself on your own over the years." Laena folded her arms across her chest, daring him to respond with the fierceness in her gaze.
Ophaella and Aemond shared a look, an understanding passing between them as they settled down to watch the sniping unfold. They leaned into each other, shoulder to shoulder.
"And there was a giant house made of black and white stones," Aemond continued, voice dripping with the sort of excitement that she had only ever dreamed about hearing from him. A favorite of hers, though he may be, he was often of the miserable sort. She always assumed it was his brother and mother that soured him down to his very bones. Seeing him so light after less than a day away all but confirmed it for her. "These strange men were on the docks, dressed in these long white robes."
"You sound like you want to investigate," Ophaella said, nudging him just a bit with the boniest part of her shoulder.
"Don't you? There is so much to see here!" He said, volume getting away from him before he lowered it again just as Laena managed to get a flame to spring to life. It was small at first, not enough to heat single tin of water, let alone a whole meal. Ignoring the look Laena gave him, her father reached down and fiddled with the kindling, igniting an even larger flame in just a few moments. "We're not cooped up in the Keep anymore. Don't you want to see more than the same walls and tapestries, and people?"
The thought had never occurred her.
What she had wanted for so long was to return to Runestone and she now found herself further from that than ever.
"I never…" She paused, focusing on the way Laena and her father had started tossing ingredients in the pot at the same time, each with a bit more force than was necessary. Back and forth they went, one after the other after the other, like they wanted to be the last one to add something and claim they were the one that made dinner. "They are being so weird."
"I suppose."
Ophaella gestured at them, mouth scrunched up.
Aemond shrugged.
"You suppose?"
"My parents have not been in the same room as each other for at least a year. This seems more normal."
"You will burn it that way," Laena said, swatting her father's hand away as he tried to meddle. "Just sit back and keep the children from getting into trouble. Just look at them. Left to their own devices and they already look mischievous."
Aemond and Ophaella shared a look before they both laughed.
"Fine. Fine. If it will but an end to your ceaseless caterwauling. Fine. I will tell them the story of the Titan of Braavos." Despite his words to the contrary, he did not seem overly put out by the idea. Instead, he turned towards to two of them and straightened his back. "Now, I'll have no questions or interruptions. If I hear a single word, it will be straight to bed with no dinner. If such dregs can even be called as such."
Ophaella and Aemond ignored the slight towards the rapidly cooking food in the pot. They both inched closer to Daemon, too interested to hear his story to pay much attention to the way Laena looked like she wanted to dump the hot pot on top of his head.
"Has anyone ever told you the story of Gilchrim the Gorgeous, the Last Giant of Essos?" Her father started, lowering his voice just a touch to add a dramatic flair. "Larger than all the giants in Westeros and Essos and whatever is West of Westeros and East of Essos combined, Gilchrim the Gorgeous could cut a building in half with just his sword."
They both leaned forward.
"He was so big he picked his teeth with dragon's bones and ate men and women and children like grapes," He continued. "So giant he was, that wherever he stepped the earth cracked beneath his feet. He never feared for his life, but he also never was able to live as a man should. He never slept in a town or sat around a fire or felt the love of a woman. Until he met Hinna."
"Ophaella, come add the dandelions," Laena whispered, expression just a bit softer than before. Ophaella nodded, keeping her focus on her father as she scooted around the fire to sit next to Laena. She held out a handful of dried dandelions, careful not to let any drop in dirt as she handed them to Ophaella.
"Hinna was a witch from the Summer Isles and the prettiest woman in all Westeros and Essos and whatever is West of Westeros and East of Essos combined. The moment Gilchrim saw her, he fell in love. But she did not love him back. How could she? Who could ever love a man so terrible and ferocious as he?"
Ophaella added the dandelions to the stew and leaned forward to smell it.
"But he was undeterred. And every time she rebuffed him, he continued to pursue."
"Obviously, this is a lesson for what not to do when you fall in love," Laena said, stirring the stew one final time.
"Obviously."
"Aemond, the bowls if you would," Laena said, gesturing to the bag behind her.
"Can I continue?" Laena ignored him. Aemond returned with the bowls and took his seat again. Laena ladled the first two portions into a bowls and handed them to Ophaella. She returned to her seat and handed it to Aemond. "I am going to continue."
"Please," Laena said, finally ladling a portion for him and handing it across the fire.
"As I was saying. Everywhere she went, he followed. Every man she loved, he killed. Every town that hid her from him, he destroyed. Bit by bit, piece by piece, he ripped the world apart trying to find her. The world was bigger then and Westeros and Essos had not yet split apart. Eventually, after running and hiding everywhere she could, Hinna found herself in what is now the Stepstones."
"What happened?" Aemond said, mouth full of poorly chewed food.
"Chew, Aemond," Laena said.
"She hid. For six days and six nights, Gilchrim searched for her and for six days and six nights he could not find her. Eventually, overcome with madness he began hack at the earth. Over and over and over, he hit the ground, hoping in vain that Hinna might come back to him. But she never did. And when he hit the ground one final time, he hit the ground so hard it shattered into a thousand thousand pieces."
Her father paused, looking at them both for a moment as he let the suspense build.
"But it was just the ground he destroyed. For at the last moment, in a desperate attempt to stop him from killing everyone, she stepped in front of his sword, hoping his love for her would be enough to stop him. But it wasn't andwWhen he saw what he had done, he was so overcome with grief that he hacked the rest of the way through the land, splitting the entire continent in two."
Laena stood up and went to the bags, taking the bowls from the others now that they had finished eating. She washed them out with a bit of water from one of the skins they packed, and set them aside. She pulled the sleeping rolls out next and stuffed them under her arms, holding onto all four so she could bring them back at once.
"He was never the same after Hinna died," Her father continued, glancing at Laena as she began to unroll the sleeping pads. "And instead of returning home, he began to wander the continent. Searching, hoping, fighting until he could no longer live with the burden of what he had done. He found himself in Braavos one last time, overcome with grief. He ran himself through with his own sword and died, right where he stood and when he fell, his body was so large, that it shattered Braavos into a thousand thousand pieces."
"He was the Titan?"
"He was," Her father said. "They built that statue to remember him. Right over his bones."
"Why was he called gorgeous?" Aemond asked, shifting slightly to the side so Laena could lay out his sleeping roll.
"Because he looked like you," Laena said, smiling at the horrified sound Aemond made. "And, entertaining and troubling though that story may have been, none of it is true."
"By all means, darling, please share," Her father said.
"Not tonight. We have had a long day and these two need sleep."
Laena laid out Ophaella's pad next, followed by her father's, and then hers to finish the grouping out. They were grouped around the fire in a semi-circle, heads towards the heat and feet towards the world. Laena and her father flanked the outsides with Ophaella and Aemond in the middle.
Ophaella wanted to argue, to insist that she didn't need sleep and instead wanted to hear the truth about the Titan that loomed large over them, even in darkness, but the moment she sat down on her pad, the exhaustion from the day hit her in full all over again. The muscle aches that had been briefly forgotten came back and she found herself settling down without much arguments.
Aemond turned to face Laena on his other side, leaving Ophaella and her father alone before either of them fell asleep.
They stared at each other for a moment and she feared some sort of anger in his eyes.
Instead, in the dying light of the fire and alone in some form or fashion for the first time since that morning, he reached out his arm to pull her closer to his side.
"Are the dragons going to leave in the morning?" She asked, speaking low enough that only her father would hear her.
"Yes." His arm moved to the side, supporting her head and creating a pillow for her. "And then we will go into the city and see what mischief we might be able to find. There is a Sealord's son that I would love to meet."
Ophaella squirmed in place, making herself comfortable on her father's arm, as she tilted her head up to look at the night's sky.
A day was certainly not enough to be free of her burdens.
She knew that.
And yet, she was still able to trick herself into believing that she felt just a little bit lighter than she had when she woke up that morning. She was able to trick herself into believing, surrounded by her father, her best friend, and her dragon that this was truly the start of something new and exciting. She felt Aemond reach his hand to the side and grab hers in the dark giving it a tight squeeze before it went limp as he fell into a deeper sleep.
There were Titan bones to uncover.
And Sealord's sons to meet.
And buildings of black and white to explore.
And brand new mysteries that had appeared out of nowhere and thrown her completely off balance. Because now that she knew that Laena knew her mother, she was not sure she would she would be able to think of anything that was a problem for another time.
For now, she would sleep in the shadows of titans and dragons and dream of all the possibilities the morning would bring.