Dornish Marches, Blackhaven – 119 AC

The journey from Bronzegate to Felwood was a lively affair, with our whole group marching together through the verdant countryside of the Stormlands. Princess Lucerys and Prince Aemond, ever the energetic pair, led the way with my cousin Rhaenys close behind, her dragon Meleys soaring gracefully overhead, being joined by Ghost when we reached Felwood, the seat of House Fell. The fortnight ahead promised to be filled with celebrations and merriment. House Fell welcomed us with open arms, eager to celebrate the betrothals of Maris and Ellyn to their respective suitors.

For me, seeing the joy on my daughters' faces as they were celebrated and honored filled me with a deep sense of happiness. Some might say that as a lord, I do not appreciate my daughters. That simply because I yearn for sons to carry on my legacy, I am disappointed on my four storms. But they would be mistaken. My daughters were my pride and joy and seeing them find security in honorable houses filled my heart with contentment.

As the festivities unfolded in Felwood, amidst the laughter and music, my thoughts occasionally turned to the matter of my eldest daughter, Cassandra. There had been whispers among the courtiers, speculating about a potential match between her and Prince Aemond. At first, I entertained the idea, hoping to secure a prestigious alliance for my daughter. However, as the days passed and I observed the interactions between the young prince and Princess Lucerys, I began to have doubts.

Princess Rhaenys, ever perceptive, had warned me of Cassandra's persistent advances towards Prince Aemond. That no lady should behave the way my eldest child was. Her words stirred a sense of unease within me, prompting me to reconsider my plans. Despite my initial ambitions, I knew that pressing the matter further could risk damaging the delicate ties between our houses.

I may not possess the scholarly wisdom of maesters, nor the eloquence of courtiers, but I am not blind to the truths that lie before me. There was a palpable connection between Prince Aemond and Princess Lucerys, a bond that seemed to transcend words and logic. The blood of the dragon flowed strong within them, drawing them together with an undeniable magnetism.

Realizing this, I resolved to step back from my pursuit of a match between Cassandra and Prince Aemond. Instead, I reassured Cassandra that I would explore other promising matches for her, ones that would secure her future and honor our house. Perhaps a union with Prince Daeron or Prince Aegon would prove auspicious, cementing our ties with other noble houses and ensuring Cassandra's future. Cassandra moped during our journey to Felwood, but when the festivities started, she seemed to forget all about her anger at not getting what she had wanted.

With that settled, we could enjoy the festivities with no issue. Throughout the fortnight, we feasted and danced, reveling in the bonds of friendship and kinship that united our houses. And as I looked around at the smiling faces of my daughters and their betrothed, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the blessings bestowed upon House Baratheon.

Later as our party made its way towards Blackhaven, nestled deep within the rugged Marchlands, a sense of tension hung heavy in the air. Though the children remained blissfully unaware, I couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at my gut. The recent reports of Dornish activity near the Stormlands had put everyone on edge, me included. I made sure to keep House Baratheon's guards close, always stationing them around my wife and daughters. The safety of my family was paramount, and I would not take any chances, especially with the looming threat of the Dornish Marches lurking nearby. Glancing over at my cousin Rhaenys, I observed her taking similar precautions with Princess Lucerys and Prince Aemond.

Truth be told, the constant meddling of the Dornishmen was beginning to wear on my patience. Their incessant provocations and encroachments upon our lands stirred a deep-seated frustration within me. If I dared to admit it, a part of me wished for the crown to take decisive action, to put an end to Dornish aggression once and for all. But such thoughts were fraught with complexity and danger, and I knew better than to entertain them lightly. The delicate balance of power in the realm hung in the balance, and any misstep could have dire consequences for us all. Especially since the realm had only just come out from war with the Triarchy at the Stepstones.

As we continued our journey towards Blackhaven, I resolved to keep a watchful eye and remain vigilant against any potential threats. The safety of the Stormlands and the honor of House Baratheon demanded nothing less. When we finally arrived at Blackhaven, Lord Dondarrion greeted us with the customary respect befitting our station. His bow was gracious, his demeanor welcoming, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the warm reception of my countryman. Lord Dondarrion wasted no time in seeing to our comfort, escorting us to our chambers with a courtesy that spoke volumes of his hospitality. The chambers were spacious and well-appointed.

Later, as the evening drew near, Lord Dondarrion hosted a lavish banquet in our honor, a gesture that did not go unnoticed. The hall was adorned with banners and torches, casting a warm glow over the festivities. The banners of House Dondarrion, House Baratheon, House Targaryen, and House Velaryon stood shoulder to shoulder, forming a vibrant tableau of heraldic splendor.

At the forefront, the banner of House Dondarrion commanded attention with its striking emblem: forked purple lightning streaking across a field of deep black, punctuated by four-pointed stars. Beside it, the banner of my house unfurled proudly, depicting a regal crowned stag in bold black against a backdrop of gleaming gold. Adjacent to the Baratheon banner, the banner of House Targaryen billowed majestically, bearing the fearsome image of a red three-headed dragon soaring against a midnight black background. Completing the tableau, the banner of House Velaryon stood tall, displaying a graceful silver seahorse against a backdrop of serene sea green.

I couldn't help but notice Prince Aemond's attentive demeanor towards Princess Lucerys during the banquet. Midway through the revelry, he quietly escorted her back to her chambers, a gesture of chivalry that spoke volumes of his character. It wasn't surprising, really. With the flurry of festivities, we'd been experiencing lately, it was only natural for the young princess to grow weary. Still, it only proved my decision to warn my daughter as the right one, as it was clear to see the genuine concern and care that Prince Aemond showed towards his niece.

As the night wore on and the celebrations came to an end, after bidding farewell to the girls and entrusting them to the capable hands of Elenda, I joined Princess Rhaenys in Lord Dondarrion's office. I looked around the grand chamber of Blackhaven, my gaze sweeping over the intricate tapestries adorning the stone walls and the flickering torches casting dancing shadows across the room. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon us as we discussed the border disputes plaguing the Marches.

"Lord Dondarrion, I must extend my gratitude for your generous hospitality. Your welcome warms our hearts," I spoke with sincerity, my voice echoing softly in the vast space. I might not be the most well-spoken lord out there, but my father has beaten some lessons into me, which only were refined by the gentle touch of my wife.

"It's an honor to have esteemed guests such as yourselves within our walls, Lord Baratheon, Princess Rhaenys," Lord Dondarrion stood tall and resolute, his weathered face betraying a sense of solemn determination. "We face a common foe, and unity is our greatest strength."

Princess Rhaenys, her amethyst eyes sparkling with unwavering resolve, nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Lord Dondarrion. We've journeyed here to offer our support in these troubled times," she affirmed, her voice steady and unwavering.

I returned the nod, my expression reflecting the seriousness of the situation. "Absolutely. With the combined guard squads, we've brought with us and House Dondarrion's army, we stand ready to defend the Marches against the Dornish."

Lord Dondarrion's eyes softened slightly at my words, a hint of gratitude shining through his stoic demeanor. "Your solidarity is deeply appreciated, my lord and princess," he acknowledged, his tone tinged with sincerity. "The situation grows increasingly dire with each passing day."

My cousin leaned forward, her demeanor poised and determined. "That's precisely why we're here, Lord Dondarrion," she explained, her words carrying a sense of urgency. "We propose a bold display of power, a demonstration of the dragon's strength to dissuade further aggression. Seeing me fly around on my Red Queen should be enough to scare those cravens back to their desert!"

Lord Dondarrion's brow furrowed in contemplation, his mind already strategizing the potential risks and rewards of such a plan. "Aye, it's a daring plan. But we must be prepared for any reprisals," he cautioned, his voice grave with concern. "The Dornish are cunning adversaries, and they won't yield easily," he admitted, his tone reflecting the gravity of the situation.

I squared my shoulders, my resolve unwavering. "We'll maintain vigilance. With two dragons and the watchful eyes of two Kingsguards, we'll stand firm against any threat."

"Let us hope that it never comes to that. But should the need arise, we shall meet it with resolve and determination," Princess Rhaenys offered a reassuring smile, her confidence unwavering.

As I surveyed the bustling camp, a sense of relief washed over me. Five days had passed since our crucial meeting with Lord Dondarrion, and the tension in the air had gradually dissipated. Princess Rhaenys's daily flights atop her majestic dragon, Meleys, had served as a formidable deterrent to any potential Dornish incursions. Lord Dondarrion's spies had confirmed our suspicions: the Dornishmen had retreated back to their homeland, at least for the time being.

With satisfaction and feeling confident we all decided to celebrate with a hunt. The air was alive with anticipation as we started roasting the game that we had just hunted. As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the camp, I couldn't help but smile as I observed the lively scene before me. My wife, Elenda, engaged in animated conversation with Princess Rhaenys, their laughter echoing through the clearing. Prince Aemond, ever the stalwart pupil, trained diligently with his Kingsguard, their swords flashing in the fading light. His determination was palpable, he will make a fearsome knight when he grows up, maybe as good as his uncle, The Rogue Prince. Meanwhile, my daughters, Cassandra, Maris, and Ellyn, giggled as they darted around, playing a spirited game of hide and seek. I watched them with a fond smile, grateful for the watchful eyes of the Baratheon guards who kept them safe.

However, as I sat quietly near the edge of the camp, my gaze wandering over the flickering flames of the fire as I savored the brief respite from the day's events, he was taken aback, when lost in his thoughts, Princess Lucerys approached, with her Kingsguard trailing behind, she offered a bright smile that seemed to light up the dimming evening.

"Lord Borros!" Lucerys chirped, her voice carrying a hint of excitement. She then handed me a cup of ale, which I took a large gulp from with great pleasure. "Maris told me how smart she is. I want to be smart like her when I learn my letters!"

My expression was guarded but not unkind, I never did well at treating children, leaving the rearing of our daughters to Eledna. But she was royalty and most importantly blood, I could not simply ignore her. "Thank you, Princess Lucerys," I replied, my voice measured. "Maris is indeed clever."

Lucerys nodded eagerly, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. "She taught me about House Baratheon! Did you know Orys fought with Queen Visenya? She made him a lord!"

I nodded, my interest piqued by the young princess's curiosity. "Yes, Orys Baratheon was a... significant figure in our history."

Lucerys beamed, her face alight with admiration. "I think Orys was amazing! Not many men respect women like he did, right, Lord Borros?"

I blinked in surprise at the directness of her observation, my reservation momentarily caught off guard. "Thank you, Princess Lucerys," I replied, choosing my words carefully. "It is... important to show respect to all."

Lucerys nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response. "You're nice, Lord Borros," she chirped brightly.

I offered a faint smile, touched by her innocence. "Thank you, Princess Lucerys. Your presence is... welcomed."

As the conversation continued, I found myself drawn into the simplicity of Lucerys's worldview, a refreshing contrast to the complexities of my own responsibilities. Despite my reservations, I couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth in the young princess's presence. However, I also found myself lost in the depths of my ruminations, Lucerys's innocent words spoke the truth, a truth that struck deeper than I had anticipated. House Baratheon owed much of its legacy to the strength and wisdom of women like Queen Visenya and Argella Baratheon. They were the architects of our fate, the pillars upon which our house stood.

As I pondered Lucerys's words, a wave of uncertainty washed over me. Who should I support in the brewing conflict between Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Aegon? The answer eluded me, obscured by the tangled webs of duty and tradition. After all, it was Queen Visenya who bestowed the title of Lord Paramount upon Orys Baratheon, not by virtue of his gender, but by his valor and loyalty.

Glancing at my wife, Eledna, and my cousin, Princess Rhaenys, I couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse. They were formidable women, their intellect and cunning unmatched by any man. Yet, my relentless pursuit of a male heir had strained my relationship with Eledna, eroding the bond we once shared. How could I have been so blind to the strength that lay within her, within all women?

The flickering firelight danced across their faces, casting shadows of doubt and regret upon my weary soul. Was having a son truly preferable to having a daughter? The question echoed in the recesses of my mind, unanswered and haunting.

As I pondered my decisions, the tranquility of the moment shattered abruptly. An injured guard, his armor stained with blood and his voice wrought with desperation, came rushing towards us, his urgent cries rending the air.

"Lord Borros!" he exclaimed, his words punctuated by gasps for breath. "They've taken your daughters! The Dornishmen... they ambushed us... took them captive!"

As chaos erupted around me, the world seemed to blur into a frenzied cacophony of screams and shouts. My heart clenched with a vice-like grip as the harrowing news reached my ears like a thunderbolt. Three of my beloved daughters, torn from safety's embrace by the merciless hands of our enemies. The mere thought of my daughters falling into the hands of those cravens sent a chill down my spine, my worst fears realized in an instant.

I could hear Eledna's anguished cries pierce the air, she crumbled, her body shaking with the weight of unbearable grief. I longed to offer her solace, to shield her from the relentless onslaught of agony, but my own anguish threatened to consume me whole.

Time ceased to have meaning as I stood there, numb and paralyzed by the magnitude of our loss. The world around me faded into insignificance, leaving only the haunting image of the dying guard etched into my mind's eye. How long had I been standing there, lost in the depths of my despair? I could not say.

When awareness returned, I found myself astride a horse, surrounded by a sea of grim-faced knights. The air was thick with tension, the scent of blood and smoke hanging heavy upon the breeze. My gaze fell upon the scorched earth, the charred remains of what had once been men.

A surge of fury ignited within me, fueled by the searing pain of uncertainty. Were my daughters among those lifeless forms, their innocent souls extinguished by the fires? The thought sent a shiver down my spine, a cold dread that threatened to engulf me whole. Did my daughters perish while they believed I favored a son over them? The question echoed in the recesses of my mind, a relentless torment that gnawed at my soul. Guilt washed over me like a suffocating wave, drowning me in a sea of remorse and regret.

The only thing that seemed to snap me back into reason was the sight of Princess Lucerys' dragon, Ghost, looming over them sent a shiver down my spine, its silent gaze piercing through the chaos that surrounded us. It was as though the very air had turned frigid, thick with tension and foreboding.

My trembling hands clenched into the reigns as Ghost unfurled his wing, revealing the huddled figures of my daughters beneath its shadow. Maris and Ellyn, tears streaming down their faces, clung to each other in fear, their sobs echoing in the night. But it was Cassandra, my eldest daughter, who held my gaze with an intensity that made my blood run cold. In her hands, she gripped a dagger with a steely determination, her eyes ablaze with defiance as she faced down a squad of my own soldiers.

In that moment, something within me shifted, as if the veil of my own misconceptions had been lifted. I saw Cassandra not as a mere pawn in the game of inheritance, but as a true daughter of House Baratheon—proud, resilient, and unyielding. No longer did I cling to the antiquated notion that only a son could inherit, for in Cassandra, I saw the very essence of Visenya and Argella's legacy coursing through her veins. She was a warrior in her own right, a fierce and formidable heiress who would stop at nothing to defend her family and her home.

With a newfound clarity, I made a silent vow to myself in that moment. Cassandra would be my legacy, my chosen successor to carry forth the proud tradition of House Baratheon. And as I looked upon her now, poised, and resolute, I knew without a doubt that she would make us all proud.

As we bid farewell to House Dondarrion, their gratitude ringing hollow. Gratitude mingled with guilt, relief tainted by sorrow. The journey back to Storm's End was a blur of chaos and relief, each passing moment weighed down by the heavy burden of uncertainty and fear. Eledna remained steadfast at my side, her grip firm and unyielding as she clung to our daughters with a fierce protectiveness that mirrored my own. Her eyes, haunted by the horrors of what could have been.

Princess Lucerys' words brought a bit of comfort in the midst of all the chaos. She said, "I just asked Ghost to look after my cousins. I don't know what really happened, but I am glad they are safe." Her voice was gentle, and she looked genuinely innocent.

Hearing her explanation, I felt a strange mix of relief and sadness. It was good to know that such a kind-hearted girl like her was shielded from the harsh truths of the world. But at the same time, it weighed heavily on me that her innocent command had led to so much destruction. I swallowed hard, the bitter taste of remorse lingering on my tongue as I grappled with the weight of her unwitting influence. She was but a child, innocent and pure, and yet her actions had sparked a chain of events that would forever alter the course of our lives.

Yet amidst the turmoil and uncertainty, one truth remained steadfast in my mind. House Baratheon owed a debt of gratitude to House Velaryon, a debt that could never be fully repaid. And in that debt, I found a renewed sense of purpose, Princess Rhaenyra will have the swords of House Baratheon to defend her claim.

As the towering walls of Storm's End loomed into view, a wave of relief washed over me, the familiar embrace of home offering solace in the face of uncertainty. Behind those sturdy walls, amidst the familiar comforts of hearth and home, we could finally find true security.

My cousin smirked when I made my request for a royal decree from the king, allowing my firstborn daughter to inherit Storm's End after me. With her usual wit, she advised me on the importance of allowing my daughters to meet and bond with their future spouses before marriage, a notion I hadn't considered before. It made sense, and I couldn't help but appreciate her insight.

In her generous nature, she even offered to have Selwyn Tarth and Ralph Buckler squire for her son when they came of age. Additionally, she suggested sending Maris and Ellyn to serve as ladies-in-waiting for her granddaughter. The idea struck me as both practical and strategic. By fostering these connections early on, they would grow up knowing each other, laying the groundwork for potential alliances forged through friendship, if not love.

As I listened to her proposals, I felt a sense of gratitude toward Princess Rhaenys. Her willingness to extend such offers not only showed her generosity but also her understanding of the intricacies of noble politics. It was clear that she had my daughters' best interests at heart, and her guidance was invaluable in navigating the complexities of their futures.

With a nod of appreciation, I accepted her suggestions, feeling reassured that my daughters would be well taken care of under her watchful eye. It was a weight off my shoulders to know that they would have such influential allies in their corner as they embarked on their journeys into adulthood.

A moon later, a scroll arrived bearing the royal decree from the King, officially declaring Cassandra as the heiress to Storm's End, regardless of any future sons born to Eledna and me. Though the possibility of a son seemed distant and uncertain, the decree brought a sense of finality and assurance to our family's future.

As my maester read through the decree, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and relief wash over me. The weight of responsibility lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a profound sense of certainty that I had made the right decision. Eledna's radiant smile mirrored Cassandra's, both filled with joy and gratitude for the acknowledgment of Cassandra's rightful place as the future Lady Paramount of the Stormlands.

In that moment, as I looked upon my wife and daughter, I knew that our family's legacy was secure. Despite the uncertainties and challenges that lay ahead, we could face them with confidence, knowing that the foundation of House Baratheon had been fortified for generations to come.