Save the Dragons
F.Y.I: So this chapter too was longer than I'd expected it to be, I hope you like it though.
I got some flak for the last chapter as if Laenor's conquest of Tyrosh was too easy and suspicion that Dorne will be wrapped up easily. The repercussions for conquering Tyrosh will come eventually, and Dorne won't be easily handled.
Chapter 10 – Uncommon Nettle
Nettles
"Please Ser! Please, I'm innocent, I swears it!" the man screamed as he was dragged to the block.
A thief, judging by the slit on his nose. This must be his second offense then.
Nettles watched as the executioner sharpened his axe, readying himself to mete out the punishment. She watched as the axe raised high in the air and was brought down in a quick stroke.
"AHHHHHHHH!" the thief roared in pain as they cut off his hand.
She tried to hold her head high; she had some pride, but it was hard knowing what was about to happen to her.
Nettles, named for the burning plant, had been caught stealing some bread and for that, was about to have her nose slit to mark her as a thief.
It wasn't fair! Was she supposed to starve? The baker had enough bread as it was!
Tears began to pool in her eyes. Life had not been fair to Nettles. It wasn't even fair that she was called Nettles, but her mother had loved her little before she died. And she was too prickly to go to the orphanages on Driftmark. She wanted to be free! But freedom often meant going hungry, and she had no other choice but to steal food to survive.
The guards in sea-green livery dragged her small body forward, pulling her towards their captain. A knight, but no true knight if he wasn't going to protect the innocent like her.
"Name?" asked the captain, in a bored tone, face buried in a ledger.
She shuddered, and answered with half a sob, "Nettles."
"Nettles, you are scheduled to have your nose slit for the crime of thievery."
"It was only a loaf of bread, honest, I was so hungry, Ser. How else am I supposed to eat?"
"That's no excuse for thievery, the baker's got to eat himself."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the headsmen pull out a sharp knife from his belt and she began to cry in earnest.
"I'm sorry, I won't ever do it again, I promise!"
"They all say that, best not to struggle and get it done quickly. Less painful that way."
They dragged her to the block, and she put up a fight, "No! Don't touch me! It's not fair!"
Nettles struggled in their arms, but she was tiny and weak in comparison so they manhandled her with ease.
The guards forced her head down on the block, and she sobbed some more, snot coming out of her nose.
"I'm sorry, Ser, please don't cut me! Please!"
"Stop resisting, girl," one of them commanded and boxed her ears.
The pain made her whimper and she heard a ringing noise in her head, so she tried to keep still so they wouldn't hit her again.
"Please, please!" she moaned.
The man with the knife stepped forward and she could see the glint of steel flash towards her.
She whispered a prayer to the Mother to save her.
He grabbed her face with a gloved hand, and she tried to bite down hard, but he thumped her again and she could taste the blood in her mouth this time.
"Please, Ser!" came the last pitiable whine.
"Halt!" cried out an order from the captain.
They continued to hold her down, but the man with the knife sheathed his blade. Nettles could only make some of the whispers behind her: "Little brown girl", "Nettles is the name, I'm sure of it", "She's supposed to be in an orphanage", "His Grace will be furious if he finds out she was harmed".
"Let her up. Now!" barked the knight.
Stood up, she could see the captain looking at her with worry in his eyes, previously absent. He looked more afraid than she'd been.
"Nettles, is it? For certain?"
Her voice was hoarse, but still she managed, "Nettles. That's my name."
She hated her name, it reminded everyone around her how worthless she was, and she was beyond sure it was hers.
"Shit," cursed the captain, "Let go of her, now."
The guards obeyed, and she rubbed her wrists.
"We apologize, My Lady, had we known, we never would have laid a hand on you. You were supposed to be in an orphanage."
"What?" she asked, befuddled.
"Pate, Melcom, come with me, we're going to High Tide. Do not harm a hair on her head but make sure she doesn't run away either," he ordered the guards around her, who all looked scared of her now.
Nettles was beyond confused, but too relieved that her nose wasn't going to be cut to truly care about the change in attitude.
The captain readied a horse and carriage for them and treated her like glass as he lifted her up to place her in it.
The ride to High Tide from Spicetown was a short one, but still the furthest Nettles had ever gone from 'home' in her life. She'd lived in Hull before but never visited as far as the eastern side of the island. She'd never seen High Tide before though she'd heard of it often enough as the seat of the Lord of Driftmark.
The captain would not stop apologizing about the behaviour of his guards, ensuring her that had he known, it never would have happened.
Nettles only nodded. She was too afraid to ask what he was talking about since she didn't want to give away that she wasn't a lady for fear of the knife.
Since the tide was high, the only thing connecting the castle to the island was a narrow causeway, that they rode along in their carriage.
The castle was the most beautiful thing she'd ever laid eyes on. It lay atop a mound of greenery and jagged rock, its pale marble extenuating the silvered roofs of the slender towers that shone in the sun so spectacularly.
They approached the castle gates, and when the gate guard asked who goes there, the captain responded with a yell that they had found 'Lady Nettles'.
She assumed there must be a Lady who shared the same name who was missing. Nettles began to fear being punished for faking who she was but hoped the lord of the island would be kinder than the knight.
Soon they were welcomed inside the castle, and they were crowded by guards and washerwomen.
"My most sincere apologies again, My Lady, we meant nothing by it, honest, I hope you spare us in your account."
Nettles didn't want to get in trouble either, so she just nodded and the knight smiled.
She was then ushered into the castle, and she marvelled at the treasures on display, exquisite tapestries, bejewelled masks, suits of shining armour, and luscious foreign plants.
The women dragged her into some rooms, again treating her like she would break if they touched her too hard, they pulled her out of her rags and gave her a bath.
It was the first bath she'd ever had. Immersed in warm water, the filth on her back washing away, it was amazing!
"My oh my, the poor thing is filthy."
Nettles was less impressed with the 'soap' they rubbed her skin with, but downright cross with the way they pulled at her hair with a brush trying to get the knots out.
"Oh, My Lady, this won't do at all," bemoaned one of the maids, throwing her rags away. Nettles wanted to protest at her clothes being discarded but was worried she'd give away that she wasn't the Lady Nettles, but just plain old Nettles.
Once she exited the bath and they dried her off with sheets of linen, they dressed her in a fine dress with a material so soft to the touch she had to ask what it was, 'silk' apparently and 'Myrish lace', coloured the most brilliant sea-green colour.
She was shocked it fit, but she supposed the lord was so rich they had such things just lying around.
Part of her was worried that Old Lord Corlys meant to rape her, she had heard stories from the other urchins that creepy old men would draw you in with sweets and shiny things and then steal your virtue. She could only hope that the lord would want a prettier girl than her if he was truly so evil.
"Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys are still away in Tyrosh, but a raven has been sent to Dragonstone and the Maester suspects the Prince will fly here on the morrow."
Nettles knew Tyrosh to be in the Stepstones, where Lord Corlys was waging his war. She knew not what a raven would do on Dragonstone, or what a 'maester' was, or why the prince would fly here for, so she could only nod her head with teary eyes in fear.
This Lady Nettles must be important if a dragon-riding prince would come to her, and Nettles grew ever more fearful of the wrath she'd face when the disappointment became known.
That night she went to sleep in a feather bed, so soft she almost melted into it. She tried to stay awake, tossing and turning wondering what prince was coming.
She prayed to the Seven that it was the noble Prince Laenor who'd she heard was a chivalrous friend to the poor and not the Rogue Prince Daemon who delighted in meting out punishments himself with his famous blade Dark Sister.
In the morning, they dressed her in yet another fine dress, this one a deep red and black. This time though, they let her have her pick of fine jewellery. She didn't want to add to the trick, but the maids were insistent that she look her very best for the prince, so she picked a ruby necklace and a couple of gold rings.
They covered the bruise on her cheek with some sort of powder that looked ridiculous on her brown skin, and tut-tutted a lot.
Around midday, she was called and they led her into the courtyard, where she spotted a dragon flying in the sky. She prayed to the Seven that they wouldn't let her be eaten when the truth was discovered.
Thankfully, it was the Good Queen's dragon, Silverwing soaring in the sky and not the Blood Wyrm, which meant it was Prince Laenor and not Prince Daemon.
As the great beast landed, Nettles struggled to stay still, fearing the terrifyingly beautiful creature.
Prince Laenor unmounted his dragon and walked towards her.
He was wearing a magnificent suit of filigreed silver armour and a gilded sea-horse-shaped helmet.
Soon, he knelt before her and removed his helm.
He was the prettiest person Nettles had ever seen, he had beautiful silver hair and gorgeous violet eyes that seemed to shine like gemstones, and he smiled so lovely that it made her cry.
She attempted to bow, clumsily, but the prince waved her up.
"You were a hard girl to find," he said gently, "I had all the orphanages in Spicetown and Hull scoured regularly for you but you never popped up. An uncommon name, I was continually surprised you hadn't turned up."
Nettles didn't know what to say to that except that she was sorry she wasn't Lady Nettles, so she settled for, "I never went to the orphanages, milord."
Prince Laenor laughed at her, "It's My Lord, except I am Prince-Consort of Dragonstone, so the style is Your Grace."
She knew he'd figure her out, she let loose a sob.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace."
"Shh, sweetling, it's alright, it takes everyone time to learn their courtesies and I know you've had precious little practice."
He was truly gallant, that Nettles could not carry on the lie any longer.
"I'm not Lady Nettles, Your Grace, I'm just plain old Nettles!"
The Prince barked another laugh, "You are Nettles of Spicetown, are you not?"
"I'm from Spicetown, mil-Your Grace, but I'm no lady."
He gave her a queer look, "They haven't told you who I am?" he asked.
"You're Prince Laenor."
"Yes, but no one told you who you are to me?"
She shook her head, as no one had mentioned who the Lady Nettles was to the prince.
The prince cupped her cheek with one hand and brushed the tears from her face with the other.
"It's fortunate that you have such a unique name or I might have missed you, I have been searching for a 'Nettles' for some time now."
"Why?" she hiccuped as she asked.
The prince gave her a sorrowful look and told her why.
"Because you're my daughter."
Nettles did not believe it and looked at him in shock. She shook her head, "No, I can't be, I'm just plain old Nettles, I'm no prince's daughter."
"Well, plain old Nettles, I'm quite sure it's true that you're my natural-born daughter, there are no other Nettles in Spicetown I can assure you, especially none that look like you."
Nettles could not believe it. She was a little brown girl with black hair, brown eyes, and crooked teeth. She was the daughter of a dockside whore. She couldn't be the prince's daughter.
"Admittedly, you do take after your mother more than me, but that's not uncommon."
"Are you sure?" she asked desperately.
"Sure enough to acknowledge you as mine."
Nettles launched herself at the prince, burying her face in the crook of his neck, wrapped her legs around him, and started crying tears of joy.
Prince Laenor laughed and twirled her in the air to the squeals of her delight.
"Well, Nettles Waters, how would you like to fly?"
The smile that spread across her face was so wide it hurt.
They were quickly saddled onto Silverwing and launched into the sky.
"Wooooo!" she screamed in glee as they soared through the air.
In her father's arms, flying on the back of a dragon, Nettles thought she could die now and be happy.
Prince Laenor, Father, doted on her.
He showed her to her new rooms, adjacent to his. He said he'd had it prepared for her for years now.
The servants all bowed to them as they walked along.
Her room was positively ornate, it had another feather bed with silk sheets, varnished furniture and a detailed portrait of the Velaryon family hung on the wall.
"You have three brothers and a sister, with another one on the way," Father told her about her trueborn siblings. Nettles had always known she was a bastard, but to be a prince's bastard was a wondrous thing indeed.
"Do you think they'll like me?" she asked shyly, she had heard about trueborn children not liking their father's bastards.
Prince Lae- Father, he insisted, placed a hand on her shoulder, "I'm sure they'll love you. They'll be glad to have an older sister."
He showered her in gifts, a silvered looking glass and an ivory-handled hairbrush, a velvet and satin cloak, and leather riding boots. Father promised he'd teach her how to ride a horse, as well as promising her a young filly for her very own.
That night they ate the most glorious meal. Three courses, roast duck, suckling pig, and pumpkin pie made from pumpkin brought all the way from the Vale, wherever that was.
"You'll never have to steal bread again," Father told her, and Nettles blushed.
He asked her if she wanted the men who struck her punished, and she had to decline. That would surely give her bad luck and she would not tempt the Gods Above with an act of malice.
They bathed together, in separate baths, and Father told her why they used soap. "Invisible little creatures called 'animalcules' living on their skin that could cause all sorts of diseases, I discovered them, you know, with a glass instrument that allows one to see things far closer than the naked eye". It terrified Nettles and she was sure to use a lot of soap and rub vigorously.
The two of them watched the sunset over the ocean from the gallery of High Tide.
"What about your Lady Wife?" asked Nettles. "Will she like me?"
"My wife is no lady, she is the Princess of Dragonstone," Father corrected, "And she has known about you for years, she will treat you like her own daughter, I'm sure of it. You were born before we were wed, so she will not resent you."
He grew pensive, "You would not be accepted at court, and I would not have you insulted on my account, so you will not be visiting King's Landing."
Nettles didn't mind being insulted if it meant spending more time with him, but dared not question him.
"In Tyrosh though, your birth will not be cared for at all beyond that you are mine. There you will stand as tall as any man and be practically worshipped."
Well, that sounded nice.
"Do I get to have a dragon?" she asked in a voice full of hope.
"The king would refuse such a thing now, but I promise one day when my wife is the queen, you will be allowed the chance to tame one of the wild dragons. But you have to promise me to keep such a thing secret for the time being, alright?"
"I promise, Father," she swore resolutely.
"Good girl."
Nettles rested her head on his shoulder as they watched the sun retreat beyond the horizon.
The two of them marched along the cobblestone streets of Hull, surrounded by guards in Velaryon colours, flying the banner of the silver dragon. They had ridden into the shipyard township on a mission to find someone, as Father said.
People crowded around them as they walked along, praising her father, shouting seven blessings, and thanking him for one thing or another.
Father told her to just smile and wave to the people, as he held her hand, so she did.
An old lady gave her some flowers that smelled fantastic, and Father twisted them into a laurel and rested it on her head.
Finally, they stood before a ship, the Mouse, and Father barked orders for them to board.
The ship's crew obeyed immediately, and they were soon sitting in the ship's captain's quarters.
Eventually, a small woman with chestnut brown hair and tattoos on her arms entered the room and gave a deep bow to Father, who greeted her warmly.
"Marilda, I hope you're doing well."
"I'm grateful, Your Grace, I am more than well."
"Lady Nettles," Marilda bowed to her.
Nettles tried to give her best curtsy in return.
"I hope my letter was not to your dissatisfaction."
"It was not, Your Grace," she answered with a small smile.
"And the boys?" asked her father.
"They're waiting just outside."
"If you'd call them in, please."
The woman, Marilda, opened the door and called in two boys, they looked like brothers with their matching silver hair and purple eyes.
"Hello, boys!" welcomed Father.
One of the boys, smiled widely and bowed deeply, then elbowed his brother, who was staring at his shoes, to do the same.
"Welcome to the Mouse, Your Grace!" exclaimed the smiling boy.
"Welcome, Your Grace," whispered the shy boy, after his example.
Father clapped his hand, "Thank you, boys, I'm glad to see you're both in rude health."
The smiling boy puffed up, and the shy boy shuffled his feet.
"Now, which one of you is Addam and who is Alyn?" Father asked.
"I'm Alyn!" the smiling one all but shouted, he was the smaller of the two, though both were small, but stood taller since his back was straight.
"And he's Addam!" Alyn said for his brother, who nodded. Nettles saw Marilda smile at her children, and her heart clenched for want of a mother.
"Excellent! Come, come, sit!" ordered Father, standing up out of his seat to give them somewhere to sit.
They sat in the same chair, with room to spare.
"What has your mother told you of your father?" Father asked and piqued Nettles' interest.
Addam whispered "Nothing," and looked down again.
While Alyn frowned and looked to his mother who nodded at him, "We're bastards, Your Grace."
"Ah, yes, of course, not that there's any shame in that," Father said. Not that Father could really understand, he was trueborn after all.
"I'll cut to the chase then, this is Lady Nettles Waters, my natural-born daughter."
Addam bowed his head to her, and Alyn stared at her which made her blush.
"Nettles, meet your brothers."
Nettles turned to her Father in shock, Alyn looked confused but a look of realization crossed Addam's face.
"That's right, Addam." Father nodded.
Alyn looked to Father, "Your Grace?"
Father knelt down before the two boys.
"I'm your father, Alyn."
Tears welled in the boy's eyes and he threw himself at her Father, who held him in an embrace.
"Your Grace?" asked Addam, and Father nodded to him, and soon the boy joined his brother in the hug.
Nettles pushed down the feeling of jealousy in her gut, she had only so recently reunited with her father that she wanted him all to herself, but she couldn't resent her new brothers finding the same thing that she had.
"I knew it!" Alyn declared.
Father laughed then jostled their silver hair, and Nettles wished she looked like the boys, who did look like Father writ small.
"Come, greet your sister then!"
"Hello, sister!" Alyn shouted and threw his arms around her too.
Addam was more subdued, and nodded to her, "Lady Nettles."
She decided she liked Alyn more, and she returned the hug.
"You boys will foster with me from now on, you'll still see your mother often enough."
"We have to leave mother?" asked Addam.
This time Marilda answered, "His Grace wants you boys given the best education available to you both."
"You will be knights one day, and be granted lands on Driftmark. As such you will need to learn a great deal, from me and my father, Lord Corlys," Father explained.
Alyn looked amazed, but Addam looked even more nervous if that was possible.
"Are we going to live with you?" Alyn asked.
"You will when I'm here on Driftmark, you'll stay in rooms together in High Tide."
"High Tide! You hear that Addam?!"
Addam nodded, with a small smile.
"Does this mean we get to fly?" Addam asked in a small voice, and Alyn looked to Father with the most desperate look.
Father looked conflicted, "Ask your mother."
Before they could get the words out of their mouth, Marilda answered, "When you're older."
"Awwww," Alyn groaned, and Nettles laughed.
They spoke for a while longer, then the boys were wrapped in a tight embrace by their mother before they followed Nettles and Father back to the horses and headed off for High Tide.
The boys were given rooms of their own, no less grand than her own and the three of them stayed up all night together talking about how wonderful it was to live in a castle and have a prince for a father, with Nettles taking pride in getting to answer all the questions the two of them had for her.
Nettles wished Alyn & Addam were here with her. She'd grown close to them in the time since they'd met and she desperately wanted as many familiar faces around for what was coming.
Father had flown with her to Dragonstone, it was time she met the family he said, as it would soon be time he had to leave to sail to Sunspear to treat with the Prince of Dorne.
They landed Silverwing in the courtyard and dismounted the dragon. She spotted a litany of people crowd around them, as they hit the ground, Father was hit by two silver blurs.
"Father!" the blurs shouted, and Father laughed as they latched onto each of his legs.
"Aemon! Jace!" he said as he took them into his arms.
"We missed you, Father!" the bigger one exclaimed.
Nettles shrank in on herself at the sight of Father's trueborn children, worried how they might react to her.
"You must be Nettles," came a dignified voice of a woman, Nettles looked up and saw a pregnant lady holding a babe, speaking to her. She had silver hair and purple eyes too. Nettles reasoned she must be Father's wife.
She gave her best curtsy and tried not to stumble her courtesy, "Your Grace, I am her."
"Indeed, my husband's bastard, I have heard so much about you."
"Rhaenyra..." Father began anxiously, as Nettles wilted.
"Yes, well, welcome to Dragonstone. Children go play, your father and I have much to discuss."
"I'm Aemon!" shouted one of the children, while the other two boys introduced themselves as 'Jace' and 'Luke'.
"We can play tag in Aegon's Garden!" said Aemon as he ran off.
"Let's go!" Jace cried after him, as he grabbed her hand and led her away, with Luke struggling to keep up.
She recognized the famed white cloak of the Kingsguard as a knight followed them.
Nettles was small, but quick and easily managed to play tag with her new little brothers that stood taller than her already.
Soon though they tired of tag, and Aemon decided he wanted to hear what his parents were talking about, so they left the yard and made their way to their father's rooms.
They nestled their ears against the door and tried to hear what was being said on the other side. They were speaking a language she couldn't understand, it must've been Valyrian.
"Children!" came the shout of the Kingsguard knight, as he found them there at the door. "You shouldn't be eavesdropping on your parents."
"Sorry, Ser Erryk," apologized Aemon, and was parroted by the rest of them.
The door suddenly opened, and Father appeared with a frown on his face, seeing them, he sighed and commanded Ser Erryk to see them back to the garden, where they were to stay until further notice.
The boys spoke in High Valyrian on the way back, and she couldn't make them out either, Father had told her she would learn how to speak it but it had only been a few days since she'd met him, so she asked what Father and the Princess had been saying.
They heard such mentions about their Uncle Daemon and Grandsire Corlys, and such things like "Two dragonriders are better than none", and "It is only a shame if you let it be".
Nettles didn't know what to make of that, she only hoped that the Princess would let her stay with Father...
Happily, her brothers seemed to like her though, took to her as if she'd always been around and they settled for a game of 'Come-into-my-castle', where Nettles had to be led along every step of the way since the game was about courtesies and heraldry and their House, and Nettles had no idea about most of it.
She would learn though, she would make her father proud of her and earn her place here.
I hope you guys appreciated the fluffy chapter, so please leave a review. If you have any questions, ask away, I try to answer them all whenever I get the chance, so check your Inbox eventually and I'll be sure to get back to you. Likewise, if you have any ideas for future chapters, I'd be glad to hear them.
If you enjoyed it, consider following and favoriting it since it'll help other people find the story.
As touched on in the story, I subscribe to the theory that Nettles is Daemon's bastard daughter and Laenor would relish the opportunity to seize her for his own, the loyalty of the dragonseeds is a necessity, and what better way than to welcome her into the family.
I figured since Marilda claimed her sons were Laenor's in canon after he was dead, she'd be happy to claim as such at his request. Of course, they're actually Corlys'.
I hope I don't get shit for giving Laenor fake bastards, I think it's a good way to ensure their loyalty, and it wouldn't really be a disgrace to Rhaenyra since men having bastards isn't odd to Westerosi, who can sire dozens of bastards without consequence.
