The Tartered Dragon - Aegon, Son of Baelon

by mootjeman7

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

28. Chapter 26

will add responses later to reviews

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next three chapters after this chapter are available on / Boombox117

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Mid to Late 112 AC – The Citadel – Oldtown, Westeros

Vaegon Targaryen POV

A quiet knock on his door broke him out of his thoughts, and a silent sigh of grievance escaped his lips, the quill in his hand tighter held.

"Come in." Vaegon curtly said, his voice raspy from disuse, and he eyed the opening door with veiled disdain, the torches that arrayed evenly spaced across the four walls illuminating the worn and old door.

It has been some time since anyone has dared to interrupt his solitude.

All knew better than to interrupt whilst he'd busied himself to reconcile the disparate volumes on astronomy and improve on the broken theories of some of his misguided forebearers.

The boy, for it was a boy, he thought as he squinted his eyes, barely able to discern the boy's features as he stood at the door's entrance, his eyesight stretched to its limits, was a shortly fellow, a sign that he was likely poor-born.

"Come closer, boy."

Vaegon got a better look at the boy when he was halfway into his chambers. Brown of hair, not a speckle of hair on his chin. The boy was young, quite young, mayhaps no more than six and ten namedays. Perhaps he was older, it was hard to tell with the smallfolk, especially those who may have come from the cities.

From the looks of his clothes, of decent quality and worn but not quite so terribly worn that he was without means, he guessed that perhaps he came from a modest background, perhaps a merchant's son or a well-to-do shopkeeper's son.

He eyed the link on the boy's small-chain, the boy-acolyte. It was silver, the sole link. A healer or one who interested in the arts of medicine. He eyed the boy more closely, before his eyes went towards the boy's hands, which were holding an envelope and a small wooden box.

He set aside his curiosity on the contents and instead focusing on the hands. They were delicate hands, not one that belonged to a boy used to a hard life, or a life of sword and shield, and he was more assured this was a boy from one of the cities.

"Archmaester Vaegon." The young acolyte said respectfully and he heard a tang of nervousness in the boy's voice "I-"

"How old are you?" Vaegon interrupted brusquely as he met the boy's nervous eyes which widened slightly. Vaegon couldn't quite tell if the boy's eyes were brown or grey or moss-green. There was little natural light in his chambers, not at this time. The light that entered from upon high from the far-right small window that let in air and light was only sufficient during the morn, and the light of the flames distorted the colours quite displeasingly.

"E-eight and ten namedays, Archmaester." Vaegon could hear the Kingslander common accent in the boy's voice.

Vaegon hummed silently as he gazed upon the increasingly more nervous before he looked away dismissively, back towards his writings, though, he did speak up, a lazy gesture with his quill towards the far end of his table.

"Set it there, boy, and leave promptly. You've disturbed me long enough." Vaegon said and that was the end of it, as he returned back to his thoughts, and only faintly did he hear the boy leave.

It was some time later, when he left his writings at a suitable ending, that he deigned to look upon what the boy delivered.

It had been two and ten years since he last received letters and that had been from his father who called upon his advice.

Longer still, he thought as he picked the envelope, a curious look towards the box, that he received anything more than a single letter, which this envelope seemed to contain far more of. He hummed silently as he eyed the envelope.

It was without a mark of any kind, no signet or sigil or addressing.

He took a penknife and opened the heavy and full envelope up.

"Dearest Uncle…" he murmured quietly to himself, his eyebrows raising slightly at that address but then he recognised who it was from, before he'd even read the name of the writer at the bottom of the last page in the dozen or so pages of letter.

His nephew, Aegon.

His eyebrow twitched in irritation, the twang of dislike he held for Alyssa's get still there, still breathing though admittedly, a dislike that had grown significantly less over time, especially once that dislike had been overtaken by curiosity, a curiosity that stemmed from his observations of his nephew's interactions with his father, the Old King, who Vaegon knew thought lowly of his children's get and yet he valued Aegon's advice almost as much as he'd valued Vaegon's advice.

He set aside the penknife, his eyes unfocused for a moment. It was curious thing, for his perception to change so much based on a handful of interactions, wiping clean years prior disfavour and disdain. For a long time since that boy recovered from whatever mysterious malady he'd suffered from, he'd been a bother.

First, his sudden and impossible intuitive understanding of the noble art of mathematics, intuitiveness that the boy solve puzzles and problems, puzzles and problems that, over time, increased in complexity until the boy was sent problems that even archmaesters had difficulty solving, an intuitiveness that made a mockery of his and all other archmaester's hard work and diligence in the noble art.

Then, it was found the boy's talents was not simply constrained to mathematics, the hope that the boy's gifts were limited burnt away.

He remembered the letters from his old mentor Elysar, letters claiming that Aegon could become one of the most accomplished archmaesters if he so desired, which, Elysar, irritatingly often bemoaned the boy had no interest in following.

All of that natural talent, talents that fate had unduly granted him, Alyssa's get, would go all to waste in Kings Landing, a pit that worshipped skill of arms and the luck of ancestry more than it ever did the sharpness of the mind and achievement.

The boy would languish and wilt, he'd thought, in that court, as an unimportant son, wasted and adrift, without purpose and without the wherewithal to know that he'd be better served to take to the Citadel where he'd have use than a third son and an adequate sword-arm.

Vaegon's expression twisted slightly.

His dim-witted family, especially Baelon, misunderstood his dislike, and wielded the boy's intellect as a weapon against Vaegon. They'd grown an overinflated sense of pride and smugness, seeing his spawn praised as much as Vaegon had been yet still had been capable in arms and sociable…at least compared to Vaegon anyway.

It amused him greatly when word received back that the façade of courtly niceness had long since dissipated by the time the boy had left Westeros with his sister Gael.

He hummed silently.

And now, the boy has achieved something remarkable with the discovery of lands further west than Westeros, an accomplishment that none in the span of all history had accomplished.

Of course, there were naysayers in the Citadel, those who claimed that the accomplishment has not yet been verified by any of the Conclave, comparing the discovery equal to the Grey King myth but was a lowly opinion, especially once it was known that the majority of this Corinth had left for these lands, including his sister and her children.

It was a desperate opinion, one made of scorn and envy.

None of these acolytes and archmaesters enjoyed seeing a noble accomplishing a feat without the fingers of the Citadel involved. 'Though mayhaps their scorn was also because it was a Targaryen that achieved it' he thought dryly and cynically.

He shook his head, banishing away the bitter thoughts.

Still, he mused, as he returned to his previous thoughts.

He'd guessed the accomplishment was related to what his father had implied in those meetings with his nephew. He was certain that a major reason why his father had so favoured Aegon was because he was a dreamer.

"Is this the start?" Jaehaerys asked as he looked out towards the window.

"No. And yes." Aegon said uncertainly.

The answer received a piercing disapproving glare.

"No as in the matter of the Velaryons ends here but yes because Viserys will be pressured into having a male heir." Aegon said,

"Whether it is from court or the realm." Aegon added.

Father had not deigned himself to answer the queries Vaegon had posed to him, much to his irritation, claiming that matter was at hand and Vaegon could not concern himself with the matters of the realm 'he'd so ably indisposed of himself'.

However, time has allowed him to slowly piece together what it all meant, more so in the past few years. The matter of succession.

Looking back, now, he could clearer understand his father's determination in seeing Vaegon rise to Kingship. Only his promise to publicly embarrass father upon being named heir had made his father cease his attempts.

Vaegon sighed silently. He could understand clearer the weight of legacy that was on his father's shoulder once he'd pieced together what had torn at his father.

Viserys was sowing the seeds for a crisis that would tear the realm apart, more so than the Velaryon-Targaryen succession crisis ever did.

Viserys was never the sharpest but he'd been the most amiable, peaceable and the most liked of the male Targaryens still left. He'd have been an adequate successor to the 'Concilliator'.

But even Vaegon could not have expected that he'd turned out into a fool that was sowing discord instead of peace, a man who had the simplest of tasks, in the simplest of times to rule in, yet was failing in his duty and failing to see that he was sowing the seeds, unnecessarily, for a civil war in his favouring of a daughter!

He shook his head and dismissed himself from those thoughts, thoughts that mused that his father would be as wroth at the irony of it all.

Another sign of the dim-wittedness that was rife in his kin. Love and lust and self-importance had ruined many of his siblings and it seemed like the curse had found favourable purchase in the next generation.

Still. Could that have been part of the reason why Aegon was adamant that the 'King's authority' was to remain inviolate? That the Great Council was only meant and permitted to be suggestions rather than a binding decree?

Was he hoping that Viserys' authority would avoid the succession crisis that'd happen as soon as he'd keeled over and died?

If that was part of the reason, then Aegon was naïve, and he doubted the boy who built a trading empire on the back of his discoveries of quality glass was naïve.

In hindsight, he could guess that the moves his nephew has made since, searching for a home, elsewhere, had made in mind with the coming succession crisis.

He'd kept his ears open to news about his nephew, and he'd learnt that there was an arrangement with the Prince of the Summer Isles, a stay rather than permanence, which could only mean that eventually, they'd leave for elsewhere.

The finding of Elamaerys, and subsequent relocation without communication with Kings Landing, made it clear that Aegon had no interest of returning to Westeros.

So why expend so much effort, in building a new type of ship, of searching dangerous waters that has claimed and killed untold number of crews over thousands of years, when there was safety and a place of 'honour' with a ruler, who is his forgiving and peaceable brother, of a powerful realm?

With land still available to him should he wish it?

It wasn't difficult to arrive at the conclusion that the succession crisis was going to be a disaster and Aegon had no wish to involve himself. Or his family.

Yes…he thought to himself, through these perspectives, one that showed that Aegon was living up to the potential that he has inherited, his opinion on his nephew had largely shifted.

Only slightly, however. Whilst there was wisdom in the way he was using his gifts, intellect and his dragon dreams, his decisions also spoke of a ruthless selfishness.

There was little sign that Viserys knew anything about Aegon's dragon dreams.

There was no reason not to share his dragon dreams with Viserys unless Aegon found no advantage in doing so. What kind of disadvantage there was, Vaegon could not quite piece together. He could only guess.

Viserys not believing that Aegon had dragon dreams – something that he doubted since his father had believed in Aegon and he knew his father well enough that he wouldn't do so without sufficient proof – Viserys not heeding the warnings – this was possible – or the worst of the bunch…Aegon sought to use the crisis for his own gains.

The latter two were more likely. That throne in Kings Landing made many a men green with envy and it would not surprise him if Aegon had fallen to its seduction.

Of course…Elamaerys was the point that prevented reconciling that idea.

Its distance…its supposed virginity and fertility, a land twice the size of the Reach.

Plus, he mused to himself, Aegon's disinheritance was a large snag in the legitimacy of his crowning, if that was his goal.

Viserys not heeding the warnings was possible…but he was sceptical of that idea. Viserys was a foolish man, perhaps, but he was not dull-witted. Even he would know better than not to heed warnings from dragon dreams.

Their survival had hinged on such warnings, after all…

Of course, there could also be the case that Aegon simply did not care to inform Viserys. He considered this to be a good distinct possibility. Like his other brother, Daemon, Aegon was not a forgiving man and remembered slights.

Slights that he'd even be willing to go to war for, if the recent rumours of his youngest nephew preparing to go to war with Myr because of slights were true.

It put further credence to the idea that Aegon had not forgiven Viserys for older, more severe slights. He'd heard enough from his father that the debacle with his sister had driven a wedge between eldest brother and the youngest brother.

He shook his head. He found himself more and more thinking on his family over the past decade, more than he'd done so in the decade before.

He returned his attentions towards the letter.

'Dearest Uncle Vaegon Targaryen, Archmaester of The Citadel.

Knowing you as I do, which admittedly is not as well as a nephew should know an uncle, I have no doubt you will have surmised who addresses you.

I will be straightforward.

We both know that you prefer curt and direct.

I have want of you, uncle. I want you to come to Elamaerys and help establish several Institutions of Learning devoted to knowledge, research and teaching.'

Vaegon scoffed. Why would he wish to uproot himself to move to a jungle colony in the middle of nowhere that would require decades of building?

'Before you tear the letter up in disdain and contempt before you've finished reading it, thinking that this is preposterous and beneath you, I urge you do not.'

Vaegon narrowed his eyes but continued to read.

'Open the box that accompanies this letter and hook the hinges on your ears with the indentation of the frame sitting on your nose.'

Vaegon narrowed his eyes as he looked towards the box. He was tempted to read the next page of the letter but he refrained. Just.

He opened the box and found another smaller box in between wood shavings and he opened that smaller box and he was intrigued to find an odd contraption in the middle of a kind of mould, a mould that was strangely soft. 'What material was this?' he wondered.

He set the thought aside for now and he carefully removed the contraption from the mould. The contraption had two hinge like space apart with two round pieces of glass in the middle, held in an iron frame of a kind with a indentation that was shapely made to sit upon a nose.

The iron frame was delicate work, he thought as he felt the metal, which was smooth without dinks like he thought there should be if it was beaten into shape.

He eyed the round glasses. It was obvious to know what the intent of it was…

He placed it on his face and his eyes widened greatly.

"I see…" Vaegon muttered dumbfounded as he looked around.

He could see clearer now.

It has been years since he saw with as much clarity and just realised how much his eyesight had been betraying him over the years.

He looked back towards the letter and he found himself disappointed that the clarity had not translated to reading. He leaned in slightly and he recognised that though the glasses did not return his ability to read from farther away, it did help a little.

Still, the contraption was better suited for distance.

He removed the contraption from his face and he resisted the urge to place them back on and he carefully set them into the smaller box. He'd have to study it!

He couldn't believe that the Citadel had missed such a simple application of existing technology!

He narrowed his eyes as he looked towards the piles of pages of letter. That nephew of his…

Vaegon found his dislike of Aegon more yet…there was conflict within.

He set it aside and began to read the next page.

'I am uncertain if the reading glasses are well tailored to your eyes. There is a science to it, after all, for no two pairs of eyes are alike.

If you're curious about the science behind the reading glasses, in summary, reading glasses are no different than Far-Eyes though, as you have no doubt guessed, they are tailored specifically for eyes.

In effect, as you well know, eyes can deteriorate with age though it is not because they are 'tired' or 'worn' over time. This is a misconception.

One thing you must understand is that eyes are not dissimilar to Far-Eyes.

The structures responsible for sight in eyes are shaped similarly to how the lens of a Far-Eye is shaped, concavely, and as light enters the eyes, it enters through a material that my scholars and I have chosen to call 'cornea', which functions like a door or window that light must pass through to form a visual perception.

This light is bent much like the light in your reading glasses or Far-Eyes is bent, and it helps the eye to focus. There is another layer of tissue within the eye, inside of the eye, that works with the 'cornea' to help focus even more.

This light is focused to the 'retina', another layer in the eye transforms visual perception into something else, we suspect, that allows the mind to understand this visual perception.'

Vaegon paused in his reading as he considered the words. He had little knowledge in the matters of the body – he'd always been disinterested in people and that had carried over to their bodies too – so he could not adequately pose judgement on those assessment.

But…he did know astronomy and he did know Far-Eyes and how they worked and bent light around. It was one of the open questions at the Citadel, along with the matters of how light was refracted in gems and diamonds and glass.

There were hypothesises but none that were accepted by the Conclave as conclusive evidence.

So, to think that Aegon and his scholars, have made this much progress, supposedly, on the matters of the eye and on light and lenses…

He was sceptical to say the least, yet…

He eyed the small box again. The evidence was here. The culmination of their research…

He continued to read on.

'We have found those whose eyes have deteriorated are often times deteriorating slightly differently from one another, which has made creating standard reading glasses quite troublesome.

The best we have come up with, is a means to 'test' the deterioration in eyes which, of course, would request the physical presence of the individual'

Vaegon snorted as he eyed the page amusedly. The deviousness…

'In any case, should you choose to make the move, upon coming to an end of this letter, of course you shall have a pair that suit your eyes perfectly.

I am sure that you have come to the realisation that I have kept a close enough eye on you if I knew something as discrete as that of your ailing eyes'

Yes…of course, Vaegon thought with a sense of foreboding. He'd not told anyone.

Was it that obvious?

He'd not even noticed that he was being watched…let alone being watched by a nephew that he honestly never expected to see or hear or read from.

A nephew that clearly had agents in the Citadel, he considered as he thought of that brown-haired boy. It was…disturbing.

Just as the thought was disturbing that he may well be watched by others too.

He thought himself long forgotten by the realm. Even in the Citadel, he was known, yes, but none paid him any mind, the only time that he was consulted was when they were to elect a seneschal or a grandmaester.

He stared at the letter. Aegon was a devious one, for sure, and he wondered what his other interests in realm still was, if he kept this close attention to a long forgotten man, kin though Vaegon may be.

'Have no fear, uncle.'

His eyebrows twitched though he continued to read through his irritation.

'I doubt there are that many who are paying you such close attention. You've admirably done well to keep yourself to yourself.

Nonetheless, these reading glasses are, to be absolutely truthful, an insignificant invention in comparison to the research and development that is being conducted by myself, my scholars and other learned men.

In the coming decades and centuries, Elamaerys will be the centre of knowledge, a beacon in an otherwise ignorant world.

This is not a boast, uncle.

This will be a reality.

In the past few years since I have worked with my scholars, some of whom have better minds than I do for certain fields, we have established many theories and objective truths on the workings of the natural world.

Some of these have concluded in inventions, such as the reading glasses, or the galleons, the large ships make travel to the West possible which were built using scientific principles, and these are but a small percentage of what is to come in the next decade.

In less than a few years, my people have accomplished far more than the Citadel has accomplished in the past fifty years, and in a century, it will have outperformed the Citadel over its multi-thousand year existence.'

Vaegon looked at the pages with scepticism.

The Citadel was a foundation in Westeros for over thousands of years. Throughout history, throughout idiotic and senseless wars, the Citadel has remained.

It was pure arrogance to believe that these supposed centres of learnings could supplant the Citadel as the bastion of knowledge in the Known World.

Centres that didn't even exist except as a figment of imagination!

'Undoubtedly, you will doubt. You will dismiss. You will consider it the mutterings of an arrogant man-child that is dazed on his achievements.

I will only direct to the four pages before the final page of this letter to help you understand the veracity of my words and the vision I foresee happening.'

Vaegon mutely turned over towards the four pages and his eyes narrowed when he saw the first page, and, as he read on, his eyes began to stop narrowing, instead, they began to widen, and widen, and his mouth slightly opened.

The first page was a systematic study on the matter of lenses, 'optics', and refraction, where geometry was systematically used to describe the behaviours of light with geometrical diagrams used to connect with theories and applications, which he had no doubt were used in the creation of these reading glasses.

The second page was no less shocking, though he had some difficulty understanding. It took him a while but he understood enough to know that this was a new kind of iterative method of mathematics to solve the problem.

The third and fourth page were less groundbreaking than the previous two but still impactful in their own ways, with the third page detailing the science behind the phenomenon known as rainbows, 'atmospheric' refraction, and the fourth detailing mutual beneficence of trade along with a theory behind 'trade politics'.

Vaegon leaned back in his chair, staring at the pages, and he did so for some time.

The first two discoveries were astonishing. And, in hindsight, he was more astonished that such discoveries weren't made at the Citadel.

The foundations were there. The knowledge to make those discoveries were there.

Yet…

It was Aegon and his scholars that were making these discoveries, these connections.

'Far and wide, my men have sailed to.

As far Leng to all of the cities that lay on the path to Braavos.

And, amongst the coin and wealth and goods my merchants have gotten, are also tomes and texts of all kinds, in the thousands, and more every day.

Parsels of knowledge unique to these cultures and peoples.

Wisdom and mathematics and alternative ideas that are unknown to Westeros.

And this acceptance of wisdom and knowledge of different peoples is at the core how my people are able to come up with new ideas and new understandings with roots from many, many other sources.

Amongst my people there are Yi-Tish men, men who translate the philosophies of men who lived in times since before Garth Greenhand, granting fresh perspectives in life and of cultures.

Amongst my people there are those who can formulate and express principles of the natural world with an ease greater than mine own, and like the roots of a tree, these formulations and expressions branch out to new ideas, new ways of thought and experimentation.

Amongst the people I have taken to call my own, flexibility of mind is at the centre of our identity.

The Citadel is a centre of knowledge, yes, but it is a rigid, unchanging institution that is also a political institution. And though men can learn at the Citadel, heritage matters more than intellect does. At the time of writing, the majority of the archmaesters are kin to the Lords of the Reach, trueborn and bastards.

Yet there are hundreds if not thousands of acolytes that stem from elsewhere.

When the majority of archmaesters are from one region of the realm, one must be critical to evaluate the merits through which archmaesters are selected.

When an institution becomes a place of politics, it also becomes a place where the search for knowledge is not the primary objective, but a place that rather uses, controls, knowledge to advance an agenda, a cause, or merely personal objectives.'

His eyebrow twitched at the comments.

Setting aside the big question as to how Aegon can know the inner workings of the Citadel – he needed to find that boy again – there was truth in what he was saying.

Vaegon pinched his lips in displeasure.

Vaegon could admit that he wasn't the most…sociable man in existence.

He'd hated the Red Keep and its people, especially the boys that had been around his age, especially the likes of Corlys and the other notable heirs that had hung around his elder brothers. His sisters too, were an irritation that had irked him, though that was largely because of his father and mother who had been so set to match him with one of them. Vain and irritating Viserra. Vain and cruel Saerra.

Dimw-…simple Daella.

Vaegon thinned his lips before he sighed and shook his head. Even those who were family, he couldn't get along with. He'd thought that perhaps he'd find similarities with others like him, those who held passion for knowledge.

He'd been quite wrong.

Yes, he had many commonalities with the acolytes and maesters and archmaesters, but, beyond academics, there was nothing. Not that he particularly cared for it, nor did he want it, but, commonality seemed like it mattered greatly when it came to the social dynamics of the Citadel, particularly within the Conclave.

He'd simply been left to his own devices, without regard to request his time to teach other students, or to even judge acolytes and novices if they shown enough knowledge to earn their links, and, at times, during moments of reflection, he'd contemplated whether or not he'd have 'earned' his key, ring and rod in their eyes or if they'd felt pressured into given the archmaestership to the son of Jaehaerys.

Perhaps they may have consigned him to a place of perpetual acolyteship like many others had he not been a son of a King…and instead a simple dragonseed.

After all, plenty acolytes that demonstrated better mastery of subjects that certain archmaesters had not, and all of them were from regions not from the Reach, with the majority of them being from the North, Riverlands or Dorne.

His expression twisted with displeasure. He'd accepted the bias and the irritating politics, for there was some truth to it, he could admit, but it wasn't such a problem that it held back the Citadel, like what Aegon was suggesting.

Every element of human existence will have bias and politics. That was simply the way of things. It was to the individual to change matters into their favour.

If they cared for it anyway.

He continued on reading.

'And it is this that will always hold the Citadel back from what it could achieve and Elamaerys and its centres of learning will not have this problem.

The primary reason for that, is that knowledge will be freely granted to all.

You may wonder how that differs from the Citadel. The reason for that is that knowledge and learning will be embedded within the fabric of Elamaerys.

Every town and every village and every city, will be required, under law, schooling for children aged four to six and ten namedays.

Schooling that will require children to attend four hours, minimum, worth of lessons, where they will learn their letters, their numbers and philosophy.

Of course, only a few are expected to proceed into higher education into the centres of learning, as sons will take up their father's trade more often than not, but these few who chose to proceed…

They will be highly educated, highly exposed to ideas, and capable. And it will be these people who will be the foundation of research and development in Elamaerys for the decades and centuries to come.'

Vaegon stared at the letter, and should anyone see him staring, they might have thought him trying to burn a hole in the parchments.

It was madness, what Aegon was suggesting.

He'd never heard of such an idea before, to open up 'schooling' for everyone, for peasants and the children of illiterates.

Just thinking of what kind of effect that would have on the Citadel…it would leave acolytes without a means to earn a wage for who would need someone to read their letters or to write them when their children or themselves could do it?

The finances of the Citadel would be strained, trying to support the acolytes, and the Citadel would have to increase the coin that it gains from its Lords, from the Hightowers and from the King.

It would a disaster.

Yet…

He was curious about the idea. The idea of opening up learning to the rest of a populace was intriguing…and rife with problems. Smallfolk had a place in society.

They were the ones who tended to the fields. They were ones who mined. They were the ones who were the screw that connected the realm together.

They had a place.

Even in Essos, with all of their slaves, had a similar such structure, where slaves filled this place in their societies.

What Aegon was suggesting would alter the dynamic of what that place was.

He couldn't fathom what that dynamic would be like, only could guess superficially at it, nor did he know how Aegon planned to solve the problems.

'The Institutions of Learning will be funded by my gold and the taxes of Elamaerys. There will also be heavy incentivisation to the scholars to discover practical applications to their work.

Similarly, there will be coin prizes and awards for firm theories and discoveries.

I hope you are coming to understand what it is that I am proposing, and what social implications it will have for these scholars and the people as a whole.

In Elamaerys, those with gifted minds will be just as well regarded as those who perform feats of chivalry or secure victory in battles or tourneys.

In Elamaerys, uncle, your achievements would matter as much as the achievements of a knight.'

Vaegon's eyebrows raised and his lips twitched in faint amusement at the thought of maesters, or scholars as Aegon called them, competing with one another like jousters in a tourney for a top prize.

Curiously though…it wasn't a terrible idea.

Presently, most maesters found validation in the number of links they forged. A rather useless endeavour that was egotistical in nature. What did it matter if you have seven links compared to another who had three?

What mattered was the contribution which…was, admittedly, significantly less substantial than he'd liked.

'Which brings me back as to the lesser reason why I want you to join us in Elamaerys.

You have links in Alchemy, Astronomy, Mathematics, Economics and the Higher Mysteries. With a doubt, you are amongst the finest minds in Westeros.

And, without a doubt, you are also someone who understands the organisation of a place of learning like the Citadel extremely, for it is been your place of dwelling for over thirty years.

Your skills, your passion for learning, and your mind, all of it would prove to be useful in the early years of the establishments.

There also will be tens of thousands of books and tomes centuries old, that no eyes from Westeros has seen, to organise and learn from.

Yes, it will take years, decades even, for the centres to be established and flourish, but your influence in the centres will linger within the very stones of the institutions a thousand years from now.

A legacy worthy of a man such as yourself.

Do not make your choice now, uncle.

There will be time for you to choose whether or not you will take my offer.

If you're still unaware, I am currently at war with Slaver's Bay'

Vaegon's eyebrows climbed. Slaver's Bay?! He thought disbelievingly.

Why was he at war with that cesspit of a land?!

He read further, though he was greatly disappointed that there was no further explanation on his seven-damned warring with Slaver's Bay!

'I won't be returning for Elamaerys for another two or three years, though I suspect that I may be returning for Elamaerys after Daemon's Baelon's marriage with Rhaenyra.

The knowledge that I have given is yours to do with.

Should you decide to share it and use it to elevate your standing, it is up to you. Should you not share it, it is up to you. Consider it a gift from nephew to uncle.

After all, that is the reason why I have…exposed myself like this to you.

I have no doubt you have many thoughts about how this letter has reached you.

For all that I do not care about the affairs about the nobility in Westeros, I do have a vested interest in family, a family that you, despite your dislike for our family, a dislike that I can understand quite well, are a part of.

Know that you have not been forgotten, uncle.

By me or by your sister, who speaks of her clever brother to our children.

I am aware you are not one of sentimentality though, and mayhaps I am wrong in my estimation of you, but I do not believe you are as unattached to family as you make out to be, uncle.

A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing, uncle, and I hope you decide to come to Elamaerys, and built the centres of learning with me and my sons, one of whom shares a likeness to you, and be at rest and content with people who will accept you for who you are and respect you for what you are capable of.

As you should have been by your brothers, uncle.

Yours truly,

Aegon Targaryen of Elamaerys.'

Vaegon leaned back in his chair, his hand gripping onto the letter, a contemplative look on his face and he wearily flicked the page around for no reason, though, when found more written, his eyes widened and he read it.

'PS: There are many, many, reasons for my actions, past, present, and future, and all of it stems to a single source.

A source that you may have guessed, but, I assure you uncle, you are far from right. Mayhaps, one day, should we find ourselves in Elamaerys, I can share that source and my reasons with you…'

"Devious bastard." Vaegon said with a scowl before sighed and leaned back in his chair, the page falling onto the table. Appealing to his sense of curiosity of Elamaerys, inflating his 'legacy' to its centres of learning, appealing to family…

"A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing…" Vaegon muttered and he snorted. It was the kind of sentimentality that would have appealed to his siblings.

Yet the appealing to his curiosities about Aegon and what secrets he may hold…why his father trusted Aegon's words, who, in most terms still a child…

That was better.

Devious indeed.

The next few days was spent searching for that brown-haired boy and, finally, when he'd found the boy, alone, he'd cornered him.

The look of nervousness and a glimmer of fear was curious to see. Why? "Who are you boy?" Vaegon asked sharply as he stared at the eight and ten nameday old.

"My name is Raymond, Archmaester." The boy's eyes flittered around as he said so, speaking as quietly as he did. The boy really didn't want to have this conversation.

"No last name?"

"No, Archmaester." The boy, Raymond, admitted and Vaegon narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Raymond quickly added "I'm just smallfolk from Kings Landing."

"Your parents?" Vaegon questioned. "What do they do?"

"Father died year ago. My mother is a tanner. She paid my way." Raymond told him and Vaegon inclined his head curiously. That was interesting.

"How long have you been here?" Vaegon asked.

"Five years, Archmaester." 'Five years…107 AC…'

"Do you have siblings?"

Raymond looked a little dumbfounded and even a little scared, and his eyes flickered around, almost ready to jump at the first sign of anyone else.

"Archmaest-"

"Answer my questions, boy, if you know what's good for you." Vaegon said crisply, harshly, his eyes stern at he gazed upon the boy.

The boy swallowed harshly and nodded jerkily, his shoulders deflating.

"Four, Archmaester. Three sisters, one brother. All younger."

He wasn't sure how much a tanner was paid but it can't be much, not enough to pay the way for a son and have enough left to pay for the other children.

"Your mother can't afford to pay for your siblings on a tanner's wage." Vaegon bluffed. He wasn't sure but he guessed he was right. "Your mother must whore herself."

"My mother…!" Raymond was indignant, angry even, though anger quickly made way for fear as his eyes widened and he quickly subdued himself as he spoke further though there was a note of frigidity in his voice. "My mother is not a whore. She does not whore herself out to pay for anything!"

"Then explain to me how and why you, son of a tanner woman, are here. Explain to me why you are bringing me things that you have no rights to even be close to giving." Vaegon said with a stern glare and the boy looked panicked and Vaegon saw that there had been someone coming their way.

He pinched his lips before he looked back at the boy. "Come with me." Vaegon said brusquely and he left without waiting for the boy's answers.

Soon enough they were in an enclosed room, one meant for novices but was never really for the air was stale and often left one sweating if one stayed too long in the room.

"Explain!"

"I swear Archmaester, I don't know what the thing or the letter was for!" Raymond quickly explained and the panicked way he was speaking, made it clear that it was truthful.

After another glare, Raymond's shoulders slumped. "Please…you can't tell anyone" Raymond pleaded.

Vaegon wanted to snort.

As if he'd tell anyone. He'd not subject himself to the inquiry that would follow. Heavens forbid, they may even demand him to give the letter and the glasses.

"I swear I will not divulge what you tell me or what you have done." Vaegon promised and it set the boy, even if slight, at ease.

"My mother…" Raymond's expression was conflicted.

"Things were hard, after father died when I was ten namedays old. My siblings were young, all under five namedays old, and now father, who was a shipwright, had died from fever. Mother had difficulty making ends meet. It was getting bad." His expression changed, as if he was trying to reconcile something.

"Until one day, mother no longer felt like she was withering away. I remember that well. It was the first time she looked like herself. She said that they no longer had to worry about coin. That she managed to secure a way to feed their family and" Raymond's mouth twisted into a half-smile.

"and that she found a way to get me to learn my letters and a way to the Citadel, to learn to become a healer which is work well-paid in Kings Landing."

"And this…way" Vaegon trailed off "connects to you bringing me a letter and a box how?"

Raymond's expression dropped and he looked conflicted for a moment but he'd relented as he spoke, almost defeated. "My mother said sometimes…sometimes she needed to have to ask favours of me." He hesitated for a moment but spoke further still. "This…she called on my favour."

Raymond then explained that he was directed by his mother to a neighbourhood in Oldtown and it was there he was given the letter and the box.

"What else have you done?" Vaegon asked with a pinched mouth.

Raymond was quick to shake his head "I swear, this is the first time I did anything in the Citadel." Vaegon glared at the boy. "I swear, truly!"

Vaegon believed him. He was frightened enough to make any deception impossible. "But you have carried out other favours? Not involving the Citadel?"

Raymond was hesitant but after another glare, the boy spilled.

Apparently the boy had only been sent out to carry one other favour.

A minor thing, like helping a pregnant whore of insignificance recover, a whore that Raymond did not see again afterwards.

Vaegon pinched his mouth as he considered it.

He doubted he'd learn that the whore was insignificant, like what Raymond was suggesting. He also doubted he'd learn whose bastard the whore was carrying…though…it'd have to be a relevant one.

How relevant…he couldn't be sure. Bastards were rarely given importance, especially bastards spawned from whores.

"How long have you been spying on me?" Vaegon asked curtly as he removed his thoughts on the subject of the whore.

Raymond's eyes widened and Vaegon was disappointed before Raymond even spoke, the boy's head shaking. "I never spied on you, Archmaester! I swear on my honour!" Well, that was that, Vaegon thought.

There was at least one other in this scheme of Aegon's. Probably several others.

He was highly doubtful that this boy was entrusted with anything more important than healing whores or dropping off things. He was far too painfully earnest.

"Please do not tell anyone." Raymond said, breaking Vaegon out of his thoughts and he looked at the boy. He looked terrified. The boy should be. He was nought but a smallfolk and could easily made to disappear.

He'd seen that the boy had few friends in the Citadel, courtesy of his background as smallfolk. A spy amongst their midst would not go well.

"I will not tell anyone." He said and Raymond looked like he wanted to faint in relief. There was nothing to share and it was that this boy was nothing more than an insignificant piece on the board.

"Thank you, thank you." Raymond said, his eyes closing. "I'm glad it was true"

"What was true?" Vaegon sharply questioned.

Raymond looked startled and looked down at the ground as he spoke. "That you're a decent man. The letter mother sent me…it said that I should not harm you and if you asked for information, to tell you what you wanted to know as you'd not expose me because you're a decent man."

Vaegon resisted the urge to react.

"Come see me in three days. Go. Now."

The boy quickly ran out of the room and Vaegon grabbed the bridge of his nose.

"Devious bastard" Vaegon muttered. There was a whole range of other words he wanted to use to describe all of…this. This was unlike anything he was used to.

It was obvious that the boy was an insignificant piece and the warning given to the boy was to make it clear that Aegon was willing to give up important information and the boy just for his ploy with Vaegon.

He also wasn't sure if he was to be offended that he was being used like a piece like this boy was as well, regardless if Vaegon had more value or not.

He scowled to himself.

'How many pieces do you have, nephew?' It was disturbing to consider that Aegon may well have many more pieces than he could reasonably guess at.

The boy's mother…how many more mothers, or fathers, was being 'helped' in the same way? How many of their sons were in the Citadel?

And why?

Vaegon sincerely doubted that all of this was being done to get him to agree.

Vaegon was not important and he doubted that Aegon, with his deviousness and admittedly clever mind, needed Vaegon for these centres of learning.

Given the discoveries that were being made, discoveries that would be made regardless if he was there or not, Vaegon was certainly not important to its success.

So why?

Why reveal the depths of the schemes that exist?

Vaegon scowled and he left the room, the scowl mellowing out into a frustrated contemplation. It was…irritating not to see what the full painting was.

He doubted the boy Raymond would be much use anymore to Aegon and thus to no more use to Vaegon as well, not really. It would be foolish to use Raymond as a piece again for anything sensitive.

The scowl made its way on his face again though, moments later, it made way for silent amusement as he pinched his mouth slightly.

Breadcrumbs…he was enticing him to follow the breadcrumbs. Why father had trusted him – dragon dreams…? – Elamaerys, his spy network, this source…

Aegon was trapping him. And it was a good trap.

He was counting on his curiosity, his need to know, and Aegon was possibly even relying on the two or three years of time to only increase his curiosity on all of this.

His eyes widened slightly as he considered a sudden train of thought.

Surely he wasn't also using the time to see how Vaegon would react…if Vaegon would disclose his discoveries, and see if he could be trusted?

Aegon had the eyes around Vaegon to make that choice…

Vaegon scowled before he sighed. He was tired. He was overcomplicating things now. A contemplative look came across his face as he settled into his room.

He could simply…ignore everything.

That would, perhaps, be the wisest course of action. The instruction to avoid harming Vaegon made it clear that Vaegon held value, perhaps a little sentimental familial value along with general value, so if he did nothing…

It would have no consequence.

He could ignore what happened and in all likelihood, based on his estimations of the events of the past few days, it would have no impact on him.

He'd be free to carry on as always.

The question was…does he want to?

Could he ignore the curiosities?

Devious…

How Baelon and Alyssa could spawn a man like Aegon, he'd never know.

Vaegon pinched his mouth. If Aegon hadn't reveal all of this, he'd never have thought him capable of deviousness, certainly not this level of it.

Did father know of Aegon's deviousness? Vaegon wondered.

Vaegon couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't.

Because otherwise…

Mayhaps father wouldn't have bothered so hard to get Vaegon to become his heir.

-Break-

Late 112 AC – Kings Landing, Westeros

Rhaenyra POV

"Have you decided on names yet?" Rhaenyra asked as they walked through the gardens of the Great Yard, arms locked in one another, her eyes fleetingly looking towards the small bulge that peaked through her Myrish dress.

It's been too long since she'd seen her twenty nameday cousin. Though it might have been less than a year since she'd seen Laena during her time at Dragonstone but a moon in the Red Keep felt like an lifetime thanks to her former friend and her gaggle of lackeys.

Laena smiled, her unblemished brown skin bending at the corners of her mouth.

It was the kind of smile that radiated warmth and joy, warmth and joy that shone beautifully in her pale purple eyes. Coming motherhood seemed to agree with Laena. She placed her hands on the lower parts of her belly, beneath the bulge. "Corwyn if it is a boy. After mine and Daeron's grandsire. Rhaena if it is a girl."

"Good names." Rhaenyra said with a slight smile as she eyed her cousin intently, who had smiled more wider and fondly as she caressed her stomach. "You seem to like being with child." Rhaenyra commented, and even to Rhaenyra her voice seemed a bit strange, something that Laena fortunately had not picked up on.

Laena laughed lightly and she answered, smilingly. "No woman likes being with child." Laena rejected as she looked down at her stomach. "It's quite terrible actually. My feet feel swollen and I get sick so easily." Laena looked troubled for a moment. "I can barely stomach more than a few minutes atop Vhagar."

"You still fly…" Rhaenyra's eyes widened in surprise.

"Not any more." Laena's expression was one of immense disappointment though it quickly faded as she looked a little sheepishly when she spoke further "And I daren't do it again." She smiled wryly. "My mother can be terrifying when she wants to be."

"I would have thought Daeron would have objected more than your mother." Rhaenyra asked more out of curiosity than anything else.

It had been a minor scandal that Laena Velaryon, daughter of the Sea-Snake and Princess Rhaenys, married a son of a second son of House Velaryon when Laena could have married an heir to any wealthy and powerful House in the realm.

Some of her ladies had gossiped that it was because the Faith had refused to allow the Velaryon siblings to marry though Rhaenyra did not put much weight on that consideration.

Why would the Faith oppose if her cousins were to married one another?

The court rumoured that her half-siblings Helaena and Aegon were to marry one another. If that is the case, then why wouldn't the Faith allow the Velaryons marry sister to brother? Her half-siblings were only half Targaryens. Just like the Velaryons. No, the Velaryons had more Targaryen blood than the Hightowers had.

In blood, the Velaryons were more Targaryens than the half-Hightowers were.

And that showed itself in the fact that the Velaryons had dragons…and the Hightowers did not. If the Faith had opposed, they'd could have been made acquaintances of said dragons.

No, she thought to herself. There was no basis in that rumour. She thought that it was more likely that Corlys and cousin Rhaenys wanted to spare their children…unhappiness given Laenor's tastes.

And, looking how happy Leana was, it was a good decision.

She'd met Daeron before.

He was quite handsome with his crystal blue eyes and his silver hair. He had slightly darker skinned than Laena but it heightened the enchantment of his eyes. Not as dashingly good looking as her uncle was, of course, but then few were. Laena was well matched. At least when it came to stock and handsomeness.

Laena gave her a look and for a moment, Rhaenyra thought she could hold it in.

She couldn't and she let off a trinkling laugh, a laugh that Laena soon enough joined. Daeron was many things. Handsome. A knight. Strong. Valyrian. But in comparison to Laena and her Vhagar, and Rhaenys, well. Daeron was not exactly capable of being assertive like some husbands ought they have a right to be.

Rhaenyra missed this. Companionship.

"How has things been since you've returned?" Laena asked meaningfully as they continued to walk through the gardens on the cobbled stones. Rhaenyra was silent for a few moments as she looked upon the well-kept hedges and flowers.

The Velaryons had come to Kings Landing ahead of the tourney thrown in celebration of her half-brother's first name day. Father had given them high honour, and he wanted to 'rekindle' the bonds of kinship with them.

It was just another cheap ploy, one suggested by the Small Council now that the Velaryons had married into an alliance with a Lord Paramountship with Laenor marrying Jeyne Arryn, her kinswoman.

Not that she was complaining. It has been only half a day since Laena was here with her and already she's felt light and happier than she has since she returned to the Red Keep.

She turned to look at Laena and she smiled "Things are as well as can be expected." She answered. 'Which was to say, I wish I could go back to Dragonstone' She wasn't sure when the Red Keep stopped feeling like home.

That was a lie. She knew exactly when the Red Keep stopped feeling like home.

Laena made a noise as she looked at Rhaenyra a little amused, and also a little expectantly too.

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. "You know as well as I do how things are here."

Laena hummed "Certainly. You've complained enough times about it before." She said a little wryly and with a great deal of amusement as her suffering.

Rhaenyra glared at her a little but it lessened rather quickly and her shoulders slumped a little. Laena had been a good ear to complain to. The last ear she had…

She wrestled her mind away from those thoughts. "It's not as bad as it had been." Rhaenyra admitted. 'Largely because the Hightower cunt isn't here to torment me with his snide comments' she'd worn a smile for a fortnight straight when Otto Hightower had been dismissed.

"Father has even acquiesced to letting me observe Small Council meetings on occasion." That had been a victory in on itself. Six times she convinced him that she was mature enough, old enough, to sit in the Small Council.

After all, had uncle Aemon not sat in his the Small Council at a similar age?

Was she not meant to be invested as Princess of Dragonstone in less than six moons' time, where she'd rule a fief of her own?

"That's good." Laena agreed "Laenor started sitting in father's dealing by the time he was three and ten." They changed subject and turned to lighter topics, topics that they both found a common likes for.

It was some time later, when they took to seat upon one of the benches in the gardens, that they compared gardens in Keeps around the realm, and the topic of the gardens at the Eyrie came up which then turned the topic towards the wedding.

According to what she had heard, it had been quite the sight, to see three dragons fly circles around the Eyrie.

It had left a lasting impression, it seemed, on the nobility from the Vale and elsewhere – it had been very well attended with Lords from the Riverlands, the Crownlands, even the Reach – and the wealth that been on display had rivalled, they'd said, the marriage between uncle Aemon and aunt Jocelyn.

Still, she'd thought it odd that the wedding was held in the Eyrie rather than Driftmark and she knew Corlys well enough that it would have been a very unhappy decision to hold it in the Eyrie.

But, then, the negotiations of the marriage had taken quite some time. Mayhaps Corlys yielded in this for something else in return.

"Baelon was there too, you know." Laena suddenly remarked, startling Rhaenyra slightly. "If you're wondering, that is." Laena added innocently.

"I'm aware. It was to be expected. Lady Jeyne is his Lady Paramount." Rhaenyra said. Daemon had spoken enough of it when he'd been back for that week.

She withheld her amusement at the words Daemon had spoken, words that would leave many a Valemen slighted at the colourful descriptions he used on them.

"Hmm." Laena said and Rhaenyra returned her eyes back at Laena who was keenly looked at her.

"What?" Rhaenyra asked with a frown, trying not to be defensive.

"I'm just wondering." Laena said innocently and Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes and fixed the elder woman a mild glare and Laena laughed a little.

"Just wondered about you. Whether or not you're looking forward marrying Baelon." Laena asked and there was genuine interest in her voice.

She'd been fortunate, before on Dragonstone, to avoid the topic of her pending marriage to Baelon, too busy as they were more often than not flying on Silverwing and Vhagar together, but it seems like there'd be no such mercies today.

"He is a good choice." Rhaenyra only said as she looked away from Laena's eyes. As best a choice she could have, really, despite his…age. She knew him through their exchanged letters. It was not much and oft times neither of them shared anything of import, save for the few moons since Baelon's attack where they'd opened up to one another, but beyond that…

Baelon…

Baelon was a complicated subject. She knew that he was her best match. Gods forbid she was forced to marry an arrogant Lannister or a pompous Reachman.

Baelon…he was kind and noble, she could tell that much from the letters they'd exchanged, and mother, Rhaenyra thought with some sadness, would have been very glad to call Baelon son, and he seemed like he was clever enough.

He was…he was Baelon. Baelon. A…friend. Just that…a friend. Someone she'd always known and had always known she'd marry one day. A kind, noble friend.

Granted, it was much better than marrying someone twice your age, and someone who only wanted you as a broodmare and your blood in his heirs, but it felt…flat.

"Good choice?" Laena repeated with some confusion, confusion that cleared up the longer she stared at Rhaenyra. "You don't like the match?" she asked surprised.

"No!" Rhaenyra remarked and she quickly stopped. She looked around briefly before she met Laena's gaze again and under those lilac eyes, she kind of deflated a little. "I…I don't know. I haven't even met him yet!"

"So?" Laena asked with a titled head "How oft do any of us get to meet our husbands-to-be before they are our husbands the very next day?" Laena hummed silently as she looked away. "We're both lucky in that regard. I've known Daeron all my life and so have you known Baelon." Laena eyed her from the corner of the eyes "Granted, you have known him through letters" Laena turned her head and slyly smiled at Rhaenyra "but if you're concerned he's not…adequate"

Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes at the way she said that word. Laena continued "Have no fear." Laena said and she smiled at Rhaenyra before she hummed.

"He's quite comely for his age."

Comely. For his age.

If he had Daemon's looks – which he didn't with his dark locks – that might have been something else. But no…he was more like his mother. She never admitted it to anyone but she was very disappointed that Baelon didn't inherit the dashing of his father…nor his dangerous and boldness that enthralled her so.

Baelon was just…good.

She sighed internally.

She played with her rings as she looked away from Laena. And Baelon was also four years her younger. Whilst she was a woman grown, Baelon was still a boy.

A boy she'd marry in just two and a half years' time, when he'd be still three and ten namedays to her near eight and ten namedays. Her expression twisted slightly.

"Unless you have your eye on someone else?" Laena asked full of interest.

Rhaenyra glared at Laena. As if there ever could be anyone else. If Otto Hightower couldn't convince father, when the man's words had been believed by father as if they were spoken directly by the Seven, she doubted there anything she could say that could make her father break the betrothal.

Not that she really wanted to. At least…she didn't think so. Baelon really was the best option available to her…

"No. There is no one else." Rhaenyra said curtly.

Laena hummed as she stared at Rhaenyra for a long moment before she smiled at Rhaenyra, full of amusement. "If you care to know…he does look much older than his age suggests he is." There was a hint of amused laughter in her voice.

"It's not funny!" Rhaenyra scowled as she leaned back in the bench and she whiningly threw her arms around. "He'll still be a boy when we exchange our oaths!" she sneered a little. "Will his cock even be grown?!"

"Rhaenyra!" Laena shouted out her name scandalised but she could hear the laughter in her voice.

"I know you're thinking it too!" Rhaenyra said harshly as she gave the elder woman a scathing look.

Laena rolled her eyes. "Anyway." Laena sidestepped the accusation but that was proof enough, Rhaenyra thought. "He'll not be much younger than when your uncle Prince Aegon married his aunt." Laena paused for a moment. "Now that I think back, I can see Baelon resembling Prince Aegon a lot when he's older…minus the hair. Anyway, it's not such a problem like you're making it out to be."

That made her pause in surprise. "You remember uncle Aegon?" she asked curiously. She didn't have many memories of her uncle…or her great-aunt.

Her father rarely spoke of uncle Aegon and when she asked, he rarely said much about his brother. 'Talented. Gentle-hearted. A good man' were the kinds of things her father used to say about uncle Aegon but any more than that…?

She knew just as little about great-aunt Gael. She learnt more about her from cousin Rhaenys than she did from her father.

"I do." Laena confirmed. "Didn't spend too much time with him though." Laena looked thoughtful for a moment.

"What was he like?" Rhaenyra asked. She was more than happy to speak of something else than her future marriage to Baelon.

And there was plenty to talk about when it came to her uncle Aegon, especially since the rumours of war with Myr were actually not rumours but truth!

Father had been irritable since it has been confirmed and hadn't allowed her into the Small Council meetings since, she thought annoyed.

Laena hummed as she looked thoughtful. "I remember him being kind. Yes…he was kind to me." Laena smiled a little. "He always made a bit time for me and Laenor when he came to visit to Driftmark once a while." She smiled a little. "This was in the latter times, just before he left Dragonstone with his fleet." She added.

"And now he is going to war with Myr over slights." Rhaenyra remarked dryly.

It was quite funny.

She remembered Daemon grimacing whenever she'd asked about her uncle Aegon, the kind of grimace she'd make when she'd be asked about Alicent.

Yet, everything she was able to piece together, her uncles were very alike in many ways. Dangerous when angered and both did not forget slights.

But, she supposed, both were also very different.

She couldn't imagine Daemon wanting to build a trading empire like uncle Aegon did…or attempt something outrageous like finding land in the West!

"It makes sense." Laena considered and the remark surprised her greatly.

"How does it make sense?" Rhaenyra questioned.

"Well, he was always very good to his smallfolk." Laena said with a shrug. "Even in Driftmark, he was good to the smallfolk." Laena too leaned back against the back of the bench. "It didn't surprise me that many chose to follow him."

"And how does that matter about why he's going to war with Myr?" Rhaenyra frowned. So he queerly cared about the smallfolk. So what?

Laena turned to look at Rhaenyra, a faint look of surprise showing but it quickly disappeared as she spoke. "If the Myrrish conspired to enslave his people, then it doesn't surprise me that your uncle wants to make them pay for it."

"But going to war for a few people doesn't make any sense." Rhaenyra said with a heavy frown. A few people, mayhaps a few hundred at best. You'd lose at least ten times that in a war! Likely fifty times or worse!

"Princess." Laena said and Rhaenyra was startled by the formal address.

"Sometimes it can't be helped. My father went to war in the Stepstones because the pirates there became intolerable to Driftmark and really, to much of the Realm. It is the same with Myr." Laena said with a frown. "If the people of Driftmark were attacked in such a way, my parents would also seek retribution."

They sat in a moment of silence.

"What do you think? About this Elamaerys?" Laena asked and the question startled her a little. What was there to think about? It wasn't as if she knew anything about it. No one really did. Some claimed that there were giant eagles and all kinds of wild and dangerous beasts there. Grumpkins and Snarks.

"I'm surprised." She said, and it was honest before she looked a little contemplatively. "But it's a great achievement for House Targaryen."

Yes…it was a great achievement for their House. To find a way west and find land there. No other House has ever accomplished that. Only House Targaryen.

When she was Queen, she'd heap a load of honours on her uncle and his family.

She continued "I'm sure it'll mean great things for the Realm once Elamaerys has been properly brought into the fold." Rhaenyra paused for a moment.

She'd heard that father was considering sending second and third sons to Elamaerys to fill the empty lands. It wasn't a bad idea. Although she'd have to convince him to only send those that supported her.

Yes, it'd be a good way to ensure their loyalties if she was able to convince her father of the merits of her suggestions. "Although I suspect that'll have to wait until after uncle has returned and swears his oaths of allegiance to father."

Laena snorted.

Rhaenyra looked at her and Laena was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"Rhaenyra, I'm not so sure about that." Laena said a little cautiously.

Rhaenyra frowned. "What are you not sure about?"

"About whether or not your uncle will swear allegiance to your father."

"Of course he will!" Daemon had given up his crown and gifted her father the Stepstones. If Daemon would do that, then of course, her uncle Aegon would also!

Laena hummed and Rhaenyra knew that kind of hum. "You don't think he will give it up?"

"Give it up?" Laena asked with a raised eyebrow. "The crown or the land?"

Wasn't it the same thing? "Father would confirm him as the ruler of Elamaerys."

"But it would be Targaryen land?" Laena pressed.

"A younger sibling can't come ahead of an elder sibling." Rhaenyra said pressingly and Laena's lips twitched but she kept her expression straight before she shook her head.

"I give in." Laena said as she raised her hands. "Let's talk about something else." Laena said as her hands moved towards her belly. "Velaryon blue or Sea deep blue?" Laena asked as she smiled at her belly. "I'm thinking of having little fine leather boots made for the child."

Rhaenyra stared at Laena for a moment. She knew that Laena wasn't so much tiring of speaking about what they were talking about as she was unwilling to truly say what she was thinking.

She considered pushing. But…she knew that Laena would remain firm and Rhaenyra didn't want to be left alone again.

"Velaryon blue." Rhaenyra said, almost in a grousing tone of voice. "It'll be fine for both boy or girl."

Laena smiled warmly at her and Rhaenyra, despite herself, smiled a little too.

-Break-

Mid to Late 112 AC - Yunkai

Lorgan Keller POV

As the other men left, Lorgan watched Prince Aegon turn his gaze towards the city below which was framed nicely from their location within the pyramid, a contemplative expression on his face but Lorgan guessed that the Prince was appreciating the city, if he interpreted the Prince playing with his Valyrian Steel dagger in his hands rightly.

Despite its origins, it was a glorious city.

The city was laid out almost like an oversized pyramid. The location the city stood on was atop many, many hills, hills that mayhaps could have once been a single large hill but carved out into small hills over centuries to suit their desires and affluence, with the pyramid of Qaggaz towering above all of the other towers.

From a certain great distance – and provided your eyes were spent and worn – it could even resemble a pyramid, such was the way the Ghiscari had built their city.

It was a glorious city, even in its beaten, bruised and burnt state, and he'd seen the city plans the regency-councillors had for the city.

The city's glory days were still ahead, that, he was sure of.

"Still no problems with the collections or finding them?" Prince Aegon asked Lorgan and Lorgan placed his arms behind his back and he nodded, as he looked away from the Prince's gaze for a moment, gathering his thoughts as he stared at the dancing flickering flame of the candle on the table where documents lay.

He met the Prince's gaze again. "It is proceeding well." He'd informed the Prince the day before yesterday last and had not spoken of it since.

"We've combed through the libraries of six noble families thus far. In the next week, we expect to have the rest of the libraries collected." Ser Uthrik's reports had marked out all of the pyramids and estates of the noble families, including the lesser families though there were suspicions that the noble families had hidden much of their wealth and familial treasures much like the Astapori had done.

Though the gold, the Valyrian Steel and all of the other treasures and artefacts – they'd even surprisingly found several glass candles – were given higher priority to the army and their people to collect, the tomes, scrolls and texts were as equally as important…to him and the Scholarly Guilds but also most certainly to the Prince.

The Ghiscari were an ancient people and the three cities, Astapor, Yunkai and Meereen, after the conquest of the Freehold, had relatively remained untouched throughout the millennia.

The Freehold would not have tolerated anything less than perfect subservience, and according to all that was known of those eras, it seemed like Slaver's Bay had largely kept their bowed to the dragons of Valyrian peninsula.

Which meant that their teachings, their records, their knowledge, should be as pristine as possible, especially for a people who prided themselves on their ancient Ghiscari heritage.

Lorgan's eyes gleamed at the thought of delving into those tomes…those scrolls, a gleam that lessened when he remembered that'd likely be a long while before he'd have the peace to truly expand his knowledge and history of the world, as the Ghiscari knew it anyway.

As soon as they were done collecting the tomes, and the golden eye-coloured orphans who agreed to join them, they'd be on the move towards Meereen before moving again, after mayhaps a moon or two, towards the West, towards the last few mainland Slaver cities.

He only hoped he'd have enough time with some of the texts before the Galleon fleet made its way towards them in mayhaps another four to six or seven moons which would collect most of their pilfered treasures and send them back to Elamaerys, along with some of the people from Slaver's Bay.

Most of the people that'd go to Elamaerys would be those whose skills were critically needed, such as miners, farmers and weavers.

Part of the tasks set by the regency-councillors would be to establish recordkeeping of the people who dwelled in their regions and cities…and along with their names, their sex, their ages – approximate in the instances they didn't know it – and of course their skills.

The individuals would be paid a gold coin for their promptness and honestness – still they expected liars and overblown self-important peoples – incentivising people to be forthcoming with this information.

This method of payment was integrated into the redistribution of the wealth obtained from the slaver families, which would also include a basic fixed economy and prices for the next few years about how much services, goods and other things were all each worth, with sizes, weight and quality factoring an adequate scaling.

Most of that fixed economy and prices was based on Corinth and the Summer Isles and probably will require the regency-councillors to adjust it depending on the expertise and make-up of the economy of the individual cities and regions.

In any case, by the time the Galleon fleet came to the bay, they expected Astapor and Yunkai to have a good list of people to 'invite' to Elamaerys along with their families, and should they be without wife or husband, an equal number of women and men would be selected to pair these people up.

They'd be paid a 'dowry' of a kind to make sure they have little to complain about.

And, given the package that'd be on the table, lands and coin, he doubted these people would have much to complain about.

"Good. I do not want to extend our stay here for any longer than we have to." Prince Aegon said as he turned to face Lorgan. The delay in the campaign was partially due to the needs of making sure they collected every tome and text and non-coin treasure in the city though the main reason was to remove the hinterlands of any remaining noble families.

In any case, just as the army needed more time, they too expected to need more time to make sure they found everything.

"The extra time should be sufficient. Should we need more time, we can enlist more of the army and the sailors." Lorgan answered to the Prince. He continued "Though if there is any reason for delays, I'd expect it will come as a consequence of our divided attentions elsewhere." He pointedly said.

"Hmm. If you need more aid, let me know. Ser Uthrik's men can take over some of the estate and pyramid's searching." Prince Aegon said and Lorgan sighed internally.

He didn't know why the Prince was so demanding that they, the scholars, discretely, searched for as many orphan children with honey or gold eyes, the colour of topaz as the Prince said, as possible and get them to agree to come with them, with the eventual goal to see them come back with them to Elamaerys.

As an orphan himself, one that hailed from Kings Landing, who'd been lucky and given the opportunity to school under Edwyn and the Essosi learned men just before they'd left for Corinth, he initially thought that the Prince was doing a similar thing he did with the 'street rats' of Kings Landing with these orphans.

But the specificality of the eye colours had made him pause.

Of course, he knew that these features, those eyes, were those found in peoples of Naathi origins, but he didn't understand the importance he placed on these orphans, and not on any other.

He could only guess that their supposed traits, of a clever people and a gentle disposition, could be the reason why he was so interested in having them count amongst their people, although, he could suppose that the war in the Basilisk Isles had him look upon the Naathi favourably.

Or mayhaps it could be linked to the answers the Prince was searching for.

For as much as this was a war of 'retribution' and a way to enrich Elamaerys, it was also another purpose to it. Lorgan was sure there was no doubt in that.

He'd initially thought that it was a matter of magic and mystery, but he wondered if there was more about mystery than it was about magic.

He was fortunate enough to know more than the average scholar, given his brother-like relationship with Edwyn, and he knew that Prince Aegon was greatly interested in the history, natural and unnatural, of the Known World, far more than most of their people thought or knew.

He expected that was the primary reason why they were collecting all of these books, these pieces of knowledge, but he also was realising that there was probably specifics that he wanted to get out of the knowledge.

And mayhaps these golden eyed children were linked to that searching. How it all fitted in…well, that was a mystery that only Prince Aegon knew, and he did not expect the Prince to share that mystery with him…at least not any time soon.

The doors to the council room opened and he spoke up whilst they still had a measure of privacy "I will keep you informed if that is needed." Lorgan said before he turned his eyes towards the doors.

In between two guards, with another set of guards behind her, walked in a beautiful woman in crimson and scarlet robes. And beautiful she was, with her silken hair and her vividly red lips. Had he not known what kind of woman she was…

Lorgan narrowed his eyes slightly.

The Red Priestess had requested a meeting with the Prince the day after the fighting had largely ended, a request that had her now here, with the Prince.

He knew that the Prince had…curiosities about magic.

It was not surprising, knowing that the Prince, and the royal family by extension, were blessed with magic from the Gods.

Curiosities that, slowly, was being disseminated – and shared – throughout their people, when it came to fire, at least. His collaborations with the Alchemist Guild and the facilitation of collaborations between the Healers, the Scholars and the Alchemists also made it clear that he expected magic to be studied…carefully.

Of course…such curiosities had a distinctive limit.

It was widely known that Prince Aegon had a vivid hatred for the dark arts and sorcery that used any kind of blood sacrifice, as a man of good faith should have, so much so that he enshrined any such usages of magic as immediate cause for the death penalty without any chance of leniency, a sentence that is only shared by kinslaying, treason and cold-blooded murder.

There was some rumours that his hatred of dark magicks stemmed from some kind of contact with the foulness during the Basilisk Isles campaign though none of the guards nor Dorlund spoke of it.

In any case, their people greatly supported such clear distinction and sentencing. Everyone, including the people from Essos, held a great disdain for most forms of magic, and the magicks of the royal family were the only kinds of exceptions that were permitted, magicks that was part of the Gods' blessings.

Which made his agreeing to see this heathen Red Priestess all the more surprising, he thought as he eyed the Prince curiously, who stood watching the Red Priestess with unblinking eyes.

Their kind, were abominations, in the eyes of their faith and their morals, which were the same in this instance, these heathens who sacrificed people, practiced foul magicks and practiced slavery like the rest of Essos.

"Red Priestess." Prince Aegon said with an cold but neutral tone of voice, the Valyrian Steel dagger he was playing with in his hands slowing in their motion.

Lorgan turned to look at the Red Priestess and saw her smile at the Prince, her disturbingly large onyx eyes meeting the Prince's gaze as she came a stop in front of them, the guards who escorted her, attentive and wary of her.

"You may call me Lessela, Prince Aegon of House Targaryen." Her voice was melodic, beautifully so, and the smile she offered was alluring and tempting.

She tilted her head curiously, though, to Lorgan, it seemed more…false than it seemed genuine. "The blood of the Dragon is strong. You are the very image of the Qavo Vhassar, one of the sons of our Volantene Triarchs."

The remark surprised Lorgan though he quickly realised that one of the claimants at the Great Council had been a son of a Triarch of Volantis…a bastard of Saerra Targaryen.

He eyed the Prince. The Prince looked unbothered by the comparison.

"Speak of what you want, Red Priestess." Prince Aegon said curtly, sidestepping away from the topic of ill-reputed family, and the Prince stopped playing with the dagger in his hand, his eyes hard as he stared at the woman. "And cease your act. Your flattering means nothing to me. Tell me why you're here."

The words did not seem to faze the Red Priestess who only kept up the same smile, the same expression. He wondered if she'd prod further. It seemed like she wouldn't. "R'hllor has found it fit to forewarn us of your conquest of Slaver's Bay, Prince Aegon." The Red Priestess said with an alluring smile though for them, the guards, Lorgan, save for the Prince, it was far from alluring.

It seemed menacing, like the smile of a wolf towards a wounded sheep.

'Forewarn?' what kind of foul sorcery was being used, he thought concernedly.

"You have no cause to fear us." She continued, her hands slightly widening as she inclined her head and Lorgan's eyes widened when he realised that he hadn't seen her blink once yet. "Your conquest is approved by R'hllor, Prince Aegon."

"Approved?" Prince Aegon questioned and though the word was stretched, Prince Aegon's tone of voice was calm and measured despite what should be surprise. "Your visions from your flames speak of your god's approval of my conquest?"

"Yes." She said with a growing smile and he looked with disturbed fascination as he saw her expression contort with something akin to ecstasy.

Prince Aegon said nothing for some time, and he started to spin the dagger in his hands, his expression hard and neutral as stared down at the Red Priestess, and to be truthful, the silence was making him nervous…and the guards also.

The Red Priestess was the one who broke the silence as her eyes travelled towards the dagger for a moment before she looked back up at the Prince. "You have no reason to be wary, Prince Aegon. You are favoured and touched by R'hllor, the one true God" this made the guards and even Lorgan bristle with anger. "and I have come to aid in whichever way I can."

Lorgan realised that this woman was likely not from the small Yunkai Fire Temple, not from the way she was speaking. He looked towards the Prince, who kept his expression the same, and he wondered if the Prince caught onto that as well.

He considered speaking up, asking where she came from, but he wasn't sure if the Prince wanted him to intervene…

The decision to speak up was taken away from him when the Prince began to walk towards the table and spoke up "You say I have no reason to be wary." Prince Aegon said as he came to a stop by the table and leaned against it, the tip of the dagger buried into the wood, a cold and harsh look levelled at the Red Priestess.

"I have every reason to be wary when I am in the presence of someone capable of using blood magic and foul ritualistic magicks."

She began to walk towards the Prince and the sharp clinks of swords being drawn echoed like the loudest explosion of a barrel full of wildfyre yet a lazy gesture of the hand by the Prince stilled them. "I am far more capable than that." She said with a smile as she gestured towards the flame of the candle, a flame that grew and grew, the orange-red light of the flame darkening and lengthening, until it reached several times its original height.

Prince Aegon seemed unconcerned though his eyes were glancing towards the candle. It couldn't be said for everyone else however.

One of the guards drew out his dagger and pressed it against her neck "Witch!" the guard angrily hissed out and Lorgan could see a line of blood travelling along the edge of the blade "Cease your foul magic, witch, or I shall leave you a head short!"

The flame of the candle began to recede back.

"Ser Andrew." Prince Aegon called out, his voice gentler than when he spoke with the Red Priestess yet it remained firm. The knight looked away from the Red Priestess and towards the Prince and a look of chastisement came across his face.

"My apologies, my Prince. I-"

"I understand." Prince Aegon said with a nod and a look that said that he should return back to his post and the knight bowed his head before he stepped back, though not without sending one last vehement glare at the Red Priestess.

The Red Priestess looked completely at ease, despite how close she was at dying and she placed a thumb on her neck, and trailed along the length of the mark the blade made before she eyed her bloody thumb with an odd look before she looked towards the Prince.

"I wouldn't try something like that again." Prince Aegon remarked and the Red Priestess met his gaze and smiled.

"Of course, Prince Aegon." She said before she gestured with her hand "This is but a very small part of what I can do…what I can offer you…" She said with a smiling face, her face a mark of utmost beauty and for a moment, he thought her as beautiful as Princess Gael herself, an impossibility he could never have imagined.

"That is, of course, should you deign to accept me in your presence."

The Prince hummed as he got up from his leaning position and he waved a hand towards the candle fire and the flames responded. He quickly looked towards the Red Priestess, who, for the first time, had a look of something other than smiling.

A look of shock. It was mild, granted, the look of shock but it was plain to see.

The guards, however, were not surprised by the Prince's control over the fires, fires that were now swirling under the command of the Prince, fires that now lengthened and thinned and bent into swirls and loops that followed the Prince as he walked towards the Red Priestess with a dagger in one hand and the other with fire.

They all knew that the Prince had command over the element of fire, as easily as the dragons themselves did. It was part of the reason why the controversial Sect of The-One-Who-Brought-The-Seven, a growing sect under Septon Aerio, flourished.

They believed in the new creation story, of the One who breathed life into the Seven Aspects and the world through his mind and song and, using divine fire, breathed life into the world.

They saw the royal family as the chosen family to guide their people and all that has transpired, from the Andals who left Essos for Westeros under the guidance of the Gods, to House Targaryen and Dragonstone accepting the Faith as their own, all culminating in the eventual birth of the Gods' chosen…Prince Aegon and Princess Gael and their children, granting them the spark of creation fire, and who guided the Gods' chosen people to a true Land of Plenty, a land without suffering.

The finding of Elamaerys and how pristine the land was had all but helped cement this idea in the hearts of many of their people.

The controversial understanding of the Faith of the Seven hadn't been a popular one, and it still wasn't, amongst many of the Dragonstonish and Westerosi faithful, but it was…accepted.

Prince Aegon making it clear that he wouldn't accept schisms amongst their people had certainly helped making the interpretation accepted. Lorgan also mused that the lack of Westerosi born Septons had certainly helped too…

He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw the Prince stand in front of the Red Priestess, the flames that followed the Prince now spiralling around the Red Priestess, the orange-red flames now brightening to a cool orange as the spiralling fire shortened and climbed up to wrap itself around the neck of the Red Priestess.

There had been a tinge of concern on her face, one that went away as soon as the fire had wrapped around her, before it had took hold of her neck. She'd looked confused for a moment, then, though that went away when it was around her neck.

She gasped audibly, her onyx black eyes wide with surprise and shock and…he thought with widened eyes, a hint of satisfaction? No…he was wrong, he thought.

Why would she be satisfied?

"Your…" she struggled to answer as the flames constricted her throat, yet, he thought amazed, there was no hint of burning…no smell of burning flesh. He hadn't known about this possibility…of fire that didn't burn. "It doesn't…burn."

There was a note of shocked curiosity in her voice.

"Don't be so surprised, Priestess. My family are fire made flesh. We embody warmth, we embody temperateness, we embody its brightness, as easily as anyone breathes." Prince Aegon said to the Red Priestess, his eyes boring into her.

The fires around her neck began to dissipate away, like ash or dust under a gale of wind, and she breathed easier though her chest moved more frequently, indicating her shortness of breath, still.

She stared at him with a look he couldn't quite understand, and stared still when the Prince spoke further.

"We are a reflection of the Gods' brightness into the world, and we are tasked to light the way wherever and whichever our people need." Prince Aegon said as he leaned in slightly, and, as he spoke further, the last of the embers of fire was disappeared. "After all…the night is dark and full of terror, Priestess."

Those words got a reaction from the Red Priestess, a larger one than when her neck was wrapped by a noose made of flame.

"You are truly touched by R'hllor. Your very words are touched by R'hllor…now and then…'Bring the Dawn'." There was an inflection in her voice that mirrored the look of satisfaction she bore earlier ago…and he wondered…was the look and sound of satisfaction a type of confirmation of a kind?

Prince Aegon looked at her unimpressed. "Do not misinterpret my words, Priestess. I am not an agent of your God nor do I keep to your faith."

"Nevertheless, it does not change the truth R'hllor favours you." She pressed on.

"That may be so, it will not change the fact that your proselytising will have no impact on me, or my people." Prince Aegon said to the Red Priestess as he dove in between his breastplate and took out his necklace, a necklace made of blue dragonglass in the shape of a seven-pointed star, something that made the Red Priestess displeased as she looked upon it.

"I was born with my faith and I shall die with my faith. My men are the same."

"Gods that despise your family and your practices?" the Red Priestess questioned with a tilted head, an engaging smile on her face.

"The Gods don't despise anyone, it is the people that do." Aegon returned with a cold glint in his eyes.

"Ah, yes, I remember now, abominations your family was called." The Red Priestess said with a considering look before her eyes sharpened "Before, of course, they modified their faith to state your exceptionalism compared to other men." The Red Priestess stretched out her hands before she folded them in front of her. "Though…I can't imagine thousands of years of religious belief can so easily be forgotten for the sake of one family. Nor do I think, if it…mattered, that your…gods would have been so forgiving of such sudden change."

Lorgan narrowed his eyes. He knew what she was implying. That it was blasphemy what the Faith had allowed to happen and if the Gods existed they'd taken issue with it.

Prince Aegon smiled and it was far from friendly.

"Given that the Gods had found fit to ensure my family's survival from the Doom, and guided my ancestor to Westeros and continue to guide my family, as they have done with me and Gael, I have full faith that the Gods approve of my family…and our exceptionalism." Prince Aegon dropped his smile.

"Do not try your tricks or your words of division again, Priestess." Prince Aegon's eyes narrowed dangerously "Lest we truly have problems. Or I might just forget that we have a common enemy in the Great Other."

'Great Other?' Lorgan's mind quickly went to work.

'The Enemy of R'hllor' he thought to himself.

He hadn't paid much attention to the faiths of Essos, though he did know plenty about the Red Faith, mostly because of its connections to ancient history, particularly Old Valyria, the Dawn Age and even some links to the Empire of the Dawn.

The Red Priestess' eyes snapped to meet the Prince's gaze, the look of satisfaction now long gone and in its stead, there was a look of study, intense study, the likes that he could only compare to those found in the eyes of ambush predators, like the jaguars of the Summer Isles.

'What are you thinking?' he thought as he eyed the Prince with hidden wariness.

Was this another deception of a kind, one now aimed to get the heathen sorcerers out of the way by appealing to their faith? He was sure that the Prince did not believe in the nonsense of a supposed war for the Dawn, one that mirrored what happened many many thousands of years ago.

"You're telling the truth." The Red Priestess said after a long moment of silence.

"You truly believe in the Great Other and the War that is to come."

"I do." Prince Aegon said as he sheathed the dagger as he stepped back from the Red Priestess. "Ever since the Doom, the signs have been there that the world is slowly heading towards a time when the cold darkness descends upon the world"

"When the Stars Bleed and the Cold Breath of Darkness falls heavy on the World." The Priestess recited, her eyes alight with something.

"That is said to be the final sign, yes." Prince Aegon said as he looked away from her and towards the now silent candle whose flame had been made cold and still.

Prince Aegon took to sit at the edge of the table before he spoke. "There are many such prophecies that speak of the coming War, and all of the signs that are to be before it arrives, Priestess." The Prince then looked towards the Red Priestess, an amused glint shining through his mismatching eyes.

"Even the Dothraki have a similar prophecy, though unfortunately misunderstood and twisted by time as could be expected of a savage people, that heralds the coming of a great champion…The Stallion who Mounts the World." Prince Aegon said before he shook his head as he waved dismissively. "I'm sure the Yi-Tish, the Lengese, the Hyrkoonians and other peoples have similar such prophecies."

"Azor Ahai is mistakenly known by many other names, names such Hyrkoon the Hero, Yin Tar, Neferion, and Eldric Shadowchaser." The Red Priestess offered in answer, and Lorgan was curious to find that her tone of voice was subdued, her words no more given with the assuredness of before.

Prince Aegon inclined his head before he spoke again.

"Even my own House has such a prophecy, one that stems from a vision seen by the Conqueror himself, a vision that showed the end of the world of men, starting with a terrible winter that descended down from the North, a winter that carries within a darkness that hungered for the destruction of the living. It was partly his reason for the conquest, after all, to end the endless squabbling of nobles and prepare the land for the coming Long Night."

Lorgan couldn't keep himself from reacting as he stared at the Prince. He tried, hard, to see if the Prince was sincere…or not, but he couldn't tell.

Was the Prince trying to tie in the liberation of Slaver's Bay to the Conquest?

Or was he being sincere?

Was this, the part of the unknown mystery that he felt the Prince was after?

He wanted to speak with Prince about…all of this, once this meeting was over.

Though…

He did not have high hopes the Prince would bring him into his confidence.

Not because the Prince did not trust him, or the others, he thought as he eyed the guards who were keenly listening to the Prince's words, but because he understood their Prince had a penchant to only share what he felt like needed to be shared.

It was…frustrating sometimes. But he hoped…he hoped, the Prince would at least explain what was happening today, here, now. This was completely unexpected.

"Dragon dreams…" the Red Priestess trailed off in contemplation before she spoke again. "And is that why you're here? Ending…the squabbling nobility for the same reason your…ancestor did Westeros?"

"No." Prince Aegon said in response. "Yet nonetheless" Prince Aegon smiled thinly, coldly, as he continued "these people will be far more prepared – and willing – to do their duty when the times comes once I and my men are done here."

"What was the prophecy?" the Red Priestess questioned and he realised that the Prince had not actually said the prophecy, only told what Aegon had seen in his vision.

"From our blood, comes the Prince that was promised."

Again, this caused the Red Priestess to look disturbed and she'd looked away.

He had the feeling that thus far, nothing was playing out as she had expected. Which, he imagined, for a dark sorceress who could see the future through flames, was discombobulating. Lorgan found it a little satisfying.

Still, he thought as he looked towards the Prince, who stared at the Red Priestess with a neutral expression, what was he trying to accomplish with these confessions? If they were even confessions?

Somehow, he was getting to a point where he was believing they were a confession whilst at the same time confessions that were being used against the Red Priestess.

"Azor Ahai is to be reborn amidst smoke and salt, under a bleeding star…" the Red Priestess said quietly but loud enough for it to be heard and she looked back at the Prince, the confidence returning to her eyes.

"Do you believe yourself to be Azor Ahai?"

It was a simple question and it was said calmly but there was an undercurrent to it that was undeniable. 'Are you the champion of my God? A prophet? A demigod?'

He wondered why she was even asking in the first place.

Wouldn't her flames tell her?

Prince Aegon shook his head "I do not."

Lorgan looked towards the Red Priestess and he saw her with a calm expression, an expression that didn't tell how she felt about those words.

Was she disappointed? Or was she elated?

It was a shame he wasn't able to tell.

"Neither do I believe mine own children or their future children to be Azor Ahai. Aegon's vision was over a century ago and the time of the Long Night has not yet come to pass…nor do I believe it will come for a very long time yet. I do believe, however, that my descendants will play a role in the Great War to come, when this world will need fire made flesh in its direst of times." Prince Aegon's gaze flickered to the guards behind the Red Priestess, and a small smile showed.

"Just as I believe the descendants of my men will play a role in the Great War to come, who will be the new virtuous and heroic men, virtuous and heroic just like their ancestors, that this world will come to rely upon in its time of need."

Lorgan was amused to see the men stand a little taller by the praise and faith within the Prince's words though he lost the amusement when he saw the expression of the Red Priestess shift dramatically.

"You're not here to conquer…not in the way I expected." She said with dawning understanding.

"I am not." Prince Aegon confirmed and he tilted his head in plain curiosity "Your flames…what did they show you?"

"The flames…the flames in Volantis had shown a sweeping fire over Slaver's Bay, a crimson wave of fire that swept through the cities like great tidal waves, consuming and conquering the cities whole under the banner of R'hllor."

"You thought I was chosen of R'hllor spreading your faith?"

The Red Priestess pinched her lips, the first time an obvious sign of annoyance crept on her expression. "Yes." She looked towards the seven-pointed star necklace "Evidently…you are not." She then frowned heavily and deeply concerned.

"I must meditate on this." She made to turn, to leave, but the Prince spoke up, stopping her in her tracks.

"I wonder…"

All eyes turned towards the Prince who frowned slightly as he met the gaze of the Red Priestess. "I wonder if the purpose of your vision was truly about bringing you to me."

The Red Priestess looked at him with a non-understanding look.

Prince Aegon continued. "You now know that the Red Faith is not the only who aims to safeguard the realm of men against the terror in the night." Prince Aegon then moved his hands towards either side of his body, gripping the edge of the table as he spoke further.

"But I do not think you have understood that fate of the world will not be decided only by the sword-arm of Azor Ahai."

The Red Priestess said nothing as she stared at the Prince.

Prince Aegon continued. "The prophecies…" the Prince made a disdainful look before he spoke further. "They are a call to arms. To men. To all men. A great hero will come, yes, but if he will have an army of all men or not, is not certain.

That, is something that is in the hands of men." Prince Aegon lifted his right arm and gestured in a wide breadth, his eyes boring into the Red Priestess.

"The faithful will answer the call of Azor Ahai." The Red Priestess answered unblinkingly. "And our faithful spans across all of Essos, millions of us."

Her expression twisted slightly as she spoke further.

"Azor Ahai will have no need for other, nonbelieving men."

"Perhaps." Prince Aegon acknowledged with an incline of the head and he continued as he eyed her with a curious glint in his eyes that something in there.

"You have a flock of millions, and by far the Red Faith is the most followed religion in all of Essos." Prince Aegon then smiled thinly.

"But it is not true that the majority of your flock are also slaves?"

"R'hllor's Light touches the heart of those who dwell in the dark the most." The Red Priestess said in answer and Lorgan wanted to scoff at the nonsense.

"Of course." Prince Aegon acknowledged with a solemn-face.

"It's quite a shame that R'hllor's light does not touch the hearts who keep your faithful dwelling in the dark." Prince Aegon remarked before he waved his hand dismissively "Nonetheless, it is that keeping, that will make Azor Ahai's task to stand against the darkness all the more difficult.

Think, Red Priestess, faithful of R'hllor.

Do you truly think that the world, as it is now, with the half, if not more, of the population of the Known World enslaved in one way or another, weak and divided, with overlords like the Good Masters, the Wise Masters, the Great Masters, a gluttonous traitorous people, that this world will ever stand behind Azor Ahai?" Prince Aegon posed to the Red Priestess, and he scoffed as he shook his head.

Lorgan eyed the Red Priestess and he saw her looking at the Prince with a nondescript expression. It was…unsettling.

Prince Aegon seemed to be unbothered by it.

"The same could be said about you…your people" the Red Priestess said with a strange calm, one that almost bordered on…curiosity? He wasn't sure.

"Your belief may be genuine" the Red Priestess said as she eyed the Prince before she glanced at the guards surrounding her and a strange smile grew on her face as she continued "But it cannot be said that your people will believe it…that your people will answer the 'call to arms' as you so aptly described, no more than it can be said that the Slaver Cities wouldn't answer."

"Comparing my people to the Ghiscari wastrels…" Prince Aegon said with a heavy note of disapproval though the Red Priestess kept up that smile of hers despite the disapproval. "Still, you do have a small point. My people are sceptical, as they should be, but when the ice falls and the cold winds blow from the north, I will be assured my people will know and understand the warnings." Prince Aegon smiled thinly. "And my people's honour and duty will make them an untold more times likely to answer the call than the Slavers of Essos."

Prince Aegon narrowed his eyes as he spoke further. "And the world, Azor Ahai, will come to have a need of my people's aid when the time comes for no one person can save the world. All the damn prophecies say as much. No one people can save the world." Prince Aegon gestured again with his hand.

"Many peoples have variations of Azor Ahai in their myths and legends. It seems Azor Ahai fought against the Darkness with many peoples in his army." Prince Aegon smiled thinly at the Red Priestess.

"As the world is now, that will never happen.

It would not surprise me if the Great Other's influence thrives amongst the slavers, those who inspire darkness in the hearts of men, those who snuff out heat and life in the souls of men under the weight of their cruelty and corruption." Prince Aegon's expression shifted, almost looking hooded as he spoke further, his voice quieter but no less stern.

"And if they aren't…well…they are still far more likely to side with the Great Other than they are to pick up a sword for the Dawn, just as others had done so during the time of the first Azor Ahai and became tools of darkness."

The Red Priestess narrowed her eyes dangerously "And just as before, these dark forces will be defeated by the faithful who have chosen to side with R'hllor."

Prince Aegon nodded silently. "I also have such faith that good men triumph over evil ones."

Prince Aegon continued. "Yet, it cannot be said that wanting to overload the board with pieces is a terrible idea. Especially now that most of the powerful empires and kingdoms this world has yet known, the Sarnorian Kingdoms, the Patrimony of Hyrkoon, the Rhoynar…Valyria are gone. All dead. And in their places, are squabbling peoples and cities that are shadows of themselves."

Prince stepped away from the table and moved to stand opposite the Red Priestess, the height difference forcing the Red Priestess to gaze up into the Prince's mismatching eyes. "The people of Liberty Bay, reforged in the sweeping fires of liberty, flourishing with a new lease on life" There was a flicker of something the woman's eyes as the Prince spoke further "shall be a new cornerstone of strength to be founded in Essos."

The Prince stared at the Red Priestess for a long few moments before he walked away though not without saying one more thing.

"And perhaps that is what your God wanted you to see, understand. Something to think about, Red Priestess." Prince Aegon said before he eyed Ser Andrew discretely and the Prince turned and walked away.

Ser Andrew walked towards the Prince and the Prince said something in his ear, something short, and soon the knight walked back towards the Red Priestess.

Prince Aegon came to a stop the window and began stared out of it, his arms now behind his back, signalling that he was done with the conversation to all.

Lorgan looked at the Red Priestess and saw her staring, hard, at the Prince's back.

It was unsettling.

When she finally did turn around, did he unwittingly let off a breathe of relief.

Sorceresses…

He'd be glad never to see one again.

Yet…he thought as he watched the Red Priestess escorted out of the council room without a word spoke, he somehow doubted that he'd seen the last of that one.

He walked towards the Prince who was still watching out of the window though he could see that the Prince was bearing a strange expression on his face.

"If only they weren't needed…" the Prince said tiredly and he let off a heavy sigh before he turned to look at Lorgan, a heavy expression now on his face.

"How much of that was…true?" Lorgan asked tentatively.

The Prince looked at him somewhat amused before he lost as he spoke.

"Unfortunately, more than I'd like." Prince Aegon admitted with a grim note to his voice. "Far more than I'd like" Prince Aegon said as he looked away from Lorgan and back out of the window. "I had not expected the Red Priestess." Lorgan thought he saw a strange look pass on the Prince's face. "It…complicates things."

Lorgan did not answer immediately.

"Did you notice?" the sudden question startled Lorgan slightly.

"Notice what my Prince?" Lorgan asked with a mild frown.

Prince Aegon turned to look at him as he spoke further.

"The flames. About her God approving of my 'conquest'."

Lorgan furrowed his brows. Sweeping flames…approving…offer aid-

His eyes widened greatly.

"She knew we were coming…well before we came."

A cold shiver travelled up Lorgan's spine.

"Not just her…likely the other priests knew too." Prince Aegon said through a thin, very grim, smile.

"It could have been over before it began" Lorgan said with a blanched expression.

The Good Masters could have killed Prince Aegon at the very beginning of their conquest. It would have been a complete and utter disaster had the Red Priestess informed the Masters.

"Yes…our gambits could have ended quite terribly." Prince Aegon said with a calm expression, a calmer expression than Lorgan thought the Prince should have in all honesty "And I'm not sure if I have their misinterpretation to thank or otherwise."

Lorgan eyed the Prince. "You believe that there is truth about holding R'hllor's favour?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Who can say." Prince Aegon said and though it was calmly said, it was almost nonchalant. Prince Aegon continued. "What does matter is that we were exceedingly lucky." The Prince's expression turned hard, almost resentful, Lorgan thought.

The Prince sighed before he shook his head and he turned to eye Lorgan, a shadow of a smile on his face. "I'd prefer not to rely on luck…if possible."

Lorgan nodded absentmindedly. "I'm not so sure that's possible, my Prince…not when we have Gods and visions and prophecies." Lorgan muttered and he was startled when he heard the Prince laugh.

He stared at the Prince for a moment. The Prince had not laughed for a single moment since they left Corinth.

"Aye…unfortunately, I think you have the right of it." The Prince then stared at the ceiling. "the fate of man is being played out on a board and unfortunately we are blind and armless." Lorgan was surprised to see a strange look pass across the Prince's expression. "A thousand and one eyes, of blood and of flame…I wonder if we'll ever know how many more eyes there are…" Lorgan stared at the Prince with wider eyes at his words.

The Prince shook his head and the strange look passed and a gentler look formed on his bearded face "Ignore my ramblings, Lorgan, it's been a long day."

"Of course my Prince."

The Prince smiled at him and he nodded his head slightly. "Go on. Ask your questions. I have some time yet to answer a few of them. Your loyalty and hard work has at least earned you some answers."

Lorgan didn't need to be told twice. "The Conqueror's prophecy…it's really true? It being part of the reason why he conquered Westeros?"

It disturbed him to think of prophecies and fate and this Great War.

"That is what my family believes." Prince Aegon said with a twisted smile. "Whether or not it is true…who can say. I wasn't there when my namesake had his visions." Prince Aegon frowned lightly. "Though, it wouldn't surprise me if there was a morsel of truth, of a kind, in it all." The Prince looked at him and Lorgan realised that he was frowning.

"Don't look so perturbed by the notion, Lorgan. Whether or not it is true, regardless what I or you believe, is the reason, the motivation, really that different from the motivations of say, the ancient Andals?" Prince Aegon posed to Lorgan.

"It is different." Lorgan protested lightly. He continued "The Gods were…" Lorgan paused in his words and he understood what the Prince was getting at.

The Gods had encouraged the ancient Andals to come to Westeros and spread the Faith. In a certain point of view, Aegon the Conqueror could be seen to have acted out the task set by the Gods to unite Westeros in preparation for this…war.

The Prince smiled at him. "When visions are reframed like that, when prophecies are understood through the perspective of Gods and faith, it is not so outlandish. The question you must ask yourself is if you have faith in its truthfulness."

"Personally" Prince Aegon continued as he met Lorgan's gaze. "I believe that there are dark forces waiting behind the Wall, the same dark forces that many legends of many different peoples speak of. When there are so many coincidences…"

Lorgan nodded. From a logical perspective, there must be said that it all couldn't be so easily dismissed. Plus, he thought to himself, magic was very alive in the world. He'd seen it today and he'd seen some of it before from the Prince.

If magic like that existed…was it truly so outlandish to think that much, much worse existed that spawn from evil Gods and evil beings…worse than even that sorceress?

"You truly believe that…The Others…exist?" Lorgan looked to meet the Prince's gaze. The Prince made a rumbling noise as the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly.

"I do…unfortunately." The Prince said with a grimace. "I've had some…experiences that have proven to me that this world of ours, Lorgan, has dark creatures and dark Gods." The Prince was grim for a moment. "I met such a dark thing on Toadstone during the Basilisk Isles campaign."

Lorgan's eyes widened slightly. "There is a rumour…"

The Prince nodded slightly. "I'm gladdened that the other survivors like myself have not spoken much of it." The Prince's expression darkened.

"It was…not a pleasant experience." The Prince shook his head. Lorgan could tell there was far more there than what the Prince was saying. "Nonetheless, it has left me…more open to the idea of evil creatures that haunt the corners of the world, including the prophecy of my family." The Prince eyed Lorgan pointedly. "It is why I wish our people are not blind to these things. Otherwise, ignorance will destroy our people in our vulnerability." The Prince took hold of his necklace.

"The Gods can guide and defend us, yes, but we must be capable of defending ourselves too against dark forces." The Prince finished.

Lorgan nodded absentmindedly to that sentiment as he considered it all. There was much to unpack in what the Prince was saying yet the main question he had...

"My Prince…why did you divulge this to that Red Priestess?"

The Prince smiled and it was dark and grim smile, though not quite as severe as the expression had been when he seemed to recall the time of this Toadstone.

"The Red Faith is a dangerous faith. They see much and they can see moons ahead of time, it seems like." The Prince narrowed his eyes slightly. "They could easily complicate our endeavours in Liberty Bay, if they so wished."

"And by showing that you have a common cause with them, you seek to stay their hands." Lorgan considered. The Prince nodded slightly and silently.

"I would have preferred not to have shared what I shared." Prince Aegon frowned lightly. "Certainly not to someone not of our people."

"You intended to share your beliefs about this…Great War?"

"Of course. There is a time and a place however. Unfortunately, complications always prove to be hurdles to plans long laid out." 'Plans…I wonder how many other such plans you have lain out, my Prince' Lorgan wondered.

Lorgan shook himself clear from those thoughts and said "Do you think she'll be an ally?" 'and by extension the Red Faith'

"I don't know." The Prince admitted before he turned extremely thoughtful "I hardly let her time to speak and her reactions seemed genuine when it matters but she could be an excellent mummer."

Lorgan made to speak but the doors opened, and he glanced towards the door. He was surprised to see Ser Uthrik arrive and Lorgan realised that the Prince must have directed Ser Andrew to call for him during that exchange.

"My Prince." Ser Uthrik said respectfully as he'd approached. Ser Uthrik eyed Lorgan and nodded lightly, and Lorgan returned the acknowledgement.

"Ser Uthrik." Prince Aegon acknowledged with a light nod before his expression shifted, darkening slightly. "The Red Priestess may be up to something else."

"Something else?" Ser Uthrik asked with a frown.

"She mentioned Saera's bastard son, one of the Volantene Triach's."

Ser Uthrik narrowed his eyes before he looked contemplative for a moment. "A ruse to unsettle you?"

The Prince shook his head. "It may be more. She remarked in such a way that indicated that she knew him well. A lie but perhaps not. She seemed to know him well enough to know that there are similarities to be found in my features." The Prince paused for a moment. "I don't think that Saera's son is a follower of their faith but I do think that they might be in league together."

"What would they be in league for?" Lorgan wondered.

"Mīsaragorn." Ser Uthrik said grimly.

Lorgan's eyebrows climbed and he looked towards the Prince and the calm expression on his face did little to dissuade that the Prince agreed with the answer.

"They seek to take your dragon?" Lorgan questioned surprised and wary. Saera's son would be half-Targaryen…the Velaryons were proof that was all that was needed.

"It is a possibility. Our campaign in Liberty Bay is progressing well and fast, faster than any ordinary army could accomplish. By the time the Volantene can muster their fleets and army, we will have taken as far as Tolos." Prince Aegon assessed.

"Dragons are an ultimate weapon of conquest." Ser Uthrik agreed "The head of House Vhassar, though a member of the Elephant party, has close leanings to the Tigers. It would not be difficult for him to switch to conquest of the other Free Cities if his son brought a dragon to Volantis."

"Why would the Red Faith want that?"

"Why wouldn't they? If Vhassar promised the Red Faith to be the main religion in all of its conquered lands…well that'd prove to an enticing offer, would it not?" Prince Aegon further commented. "Though I find this possibility unlikely given that she had an opportunity to have me killed in Astapor." Ser Uthrik was startled at that and Lorgan quickly explained.

"I…see." Ser Uthrik looked troubled for a moment as he eyed the Prince before he shook his head and looked determinedly at the Prince. "I will have her watched more closely and I will have the men keep an eye out on anyone who resembles you even faintly, my Prince, for the rest of the campaign."

The Prince looked faintly pleased as he nodded. "There may yet be other motivations."

"It would be better if we barred her from coming." Uthrik pointed out. Lorgan was surprised that it was even considered that the sorceress was allowed to join them.

"It would be but you know it's better to have potential enemies close by." Prince Aegon answered and Ser Uthrik looked conflicted for a moment before he sighed and nodded.

Ser Uthrik did not stay long and after he'd spoken a little more with the Prince on a few topics, he'd left the Prince behind, sitting alone with his small little journal in hand, the small journal he'd kept in the inside of his breastplate, writing away.