Omake, as requested by the Commissioner

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Jaehaerys I, the Conciliator, rubbed his forehead and sighed for the umpteenth time that same morning. Beside him, his beloved wife and queen, Alysanne Targaryen, did the same. He'd have pulled his white hairs straight from his gods-damned scalp if he could, but he actually liked what little remained of his hair was not going to do that. Otherwise, he'd end up bald by sunset. Calming himself, Jaehaerys breathed in deeply and forced a neutral mask over his face. He could do this. He had to. He was the King, after all. He had to be strong – no matter how much he wanted to jump out the window and let the gods be done with him. "Can you repeat what you said? And do it slowly."

"Your daughter, Princess Saera Targaryen, has sought and found refuge in the domain of the Imperishable King of Dorne," His Hand and friend, Barth the Septon, explained. So, his ears hadn't deceived him. Of all the idiotic things Saera, his idiotic daughter, has done over the years, this had to be the worst of them. Unofficially, Dorne was an enemy of Westeros, the one parcel of land that his ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, failed to subdue; it was an unspoken burden to every Targaryen, who came afterwards, to try and conquer that which hadn't been conquered. But now, however, that burden seemed more and more impossible, especially with all the rumors that surrounded the King of Dorne, the very same rumors that terrified the Marcher Lords of the Stormlands. "And he, the Imperishable King Jason Lee of Dorne, First of His Name, has declared her to be under his protection, though he has indicated nothing of his intentions for her."

Of course not. No sane man would want to marry Saera. Certainly, his daughter was beautiful beyond all others, but her promiscuity made it so that marriage was an impossible option. Then again, the Dornish were known for similar things. Perhaps, the opposite was true. Perhaps, she found a like-minded soul in Dorne.

Unlikely. But entirely possible.

Jaehaerys sighed and shook his head as his beloved wife and queen nearly lurched forward from her seat. "We must retrieve her at once! I will not have a daughter of mine be in the presence of a man who proclaims himself superior to the Seven!"

The man who now ruled Dorne with an iron fist and commanded a legion of the living dead, and commanded a most peculiar dragon, had some of the most ludicrous titles Jaehaerys had ever heard. The Dornish referred to him as the King of the Living and the Dead, the Keeper of Souls, the God of Death, Lord of the Eternal Blue Sky, and so many other titles that Jaehaerys didn't bother to keep track of. And his beloved wife was correct in that, at least in Dorne, their Imperishable King was known to be superior to the Seven, a religion promulgated by his cult, who refer to themselves as the Keepers of the Dead. Jaehaerys himself was not particularly religious on a personal level. Of course, as king, he paid his dues to the Seven, but it was all for show. But if he saw a man raise the dead to fight his wars for him, then Jaehaerys might just change his stance on magic and godhood. As things stood, however, the legendary army of the dead was nothing more than a rumor – sun-bleached soldiers of bone, marching across the dunes of Dorne, needing no food or water, the perfect army. The Dornish certainly believed in such nonsense.

But magic didn't work that way, the Maesters explained. Indeed, in theory, reanimating a corpse was possible, but to do so on such a scale was hitherto undreamed of – an impossibility.

Jaehaerys was also pretty sure that such an army did not at all exist and was simply a rumor spread to terrify the Stormlander Lords. What was believable, however, was the fact that the man had a dragon that was unlike any dragon anyone has ever seen, supposedly without wings and able to swim through the air or some such. Now that wasn't something that could easily be fabricated and the number of lords, ladies, and spies who corroborated that claim, as opposed to all the peasant rumors of the undead army, made it more likely that the Imperishable, indeed, had a dragon of his own.

A dragon. The Dornish had their own dragon now. The headache he'd gotten out of that news still lingered, even now. Their greatest rivals now possessed the same weapons as they did. And now, Aegon's unspoken dream would never come true, because no Dragonrider would ever risk the life of their Dragon against another – not after Maegor slaughtered Aegon the Uncrowned.

Just the thought of losing Vermithor sent chills running up his spine.

No, definitely not worth the life of his dragon – or any dragon for that matter.

Dorne was growing in power, under the banner of their Imperishable King. Hopefully, their new liege had the wisdom to the maintenance of peace was a far greater goal than kickstarting a war, like the last Dornish Prince had done.

"What would you have us do, my dear?" Jaehaerys turned to his wife. He hated denying her of anything, but a war with Dorne – now, of all times – over a daughter who knew no limits was simply not worth the trouble or the effort. More than that, none of his lords would ever march to war for such a petty reason, especially not after the Fourth Dornish War, which really wasn't much of a war, but still. The point was that there was no real reason for any of this to escalate into the realm of violence. Saera made her choice. "We cannot afford a war with Dorne and certainly not over Saera. I'd rather not anger their new King, either, especially not after he granted your daughter his protection. That matter is settled."

In truth, it really wasn't. But there wasn't much for him to do – for now.

The hurt and betrayal in Alyssane's eyes tugged at his heart. She loved all of their children, dearly, and Jaehaerys felt the same way. He loved all of them with all his heart, including Saera, his wayward daughter, though she might disagree with him. That said, she needed to learn that her actions had consequences, that the world wasn't going to keel over at her command. Jaehaerys didn't know the Imperishable King of Dorne on any personal level, but such a man, who terrorizes his own lords and dabbles in strange Witchcraft and Necromancy, would only be a tyrant. And he had to wonder how long Saera could possibly stand the authority of such a man, before she inevitably ran off again. Perhaps, this time, she'd find her way home and repent, but Jaehaerys doubted that very much.

"We are to do nothing?!" Alyssane practically screeched. "My daughter is in the hands of a would-be God-King who dabbles in sorcery and necromancy, and we are to do nothing?! She could be subjected to his every whim, tortured at his delight, and we are to sit here and do nothing?!"

"My lady... if I may," Barth began. Alyssane glanced at the Hand, before composing herself and leaning back with a brooding look over her soft features. Jaehaerys nodded and sent a small smile to his friend, urging him to continue. "By all accounts, the Imperishable King of Dorne is a just and fair ruler. And many of the supposed claims that surround his rule and rise to power is just hearsay and slanderous rumors from those who oppose him. Otherwise, our spies report that he is wise and benevolent, despite his young age."

Jaehaerys sighed as he turned and eyed his wife. He knew her well enough to know that no assurance would ever placate her. Perhaps, seeing her beloved daughter in Dorne would do her some good. Oddly, Jaehaerys himself believed, well enough, that the Imperishable King was wise and benevolent. His rise to power, perhaps, was painted in blood, but then so was Aegon the Conqueror's rise to dominance. Such a thing was expected. As far as the Conciliator was aware, King Jason Lee of Dorne was, by all accounts, a kind and progressive ruler.

Perhaps, it was time to send an envoy to establish a meeting between Kings. After all, if peace was to be brokered, it was best to maintain friendly relations with one's neighbor – and, more often than not, such relations came about through acts of diplomacy. A King's Envoy was in order, then. Surely, the Imperishable would not be averse to the idea of receiving the Royal Family of Westeros?

"Barth," Jaehaerys glanced at Alyssane and sent her a soft smile, the same sort of smile they often shared together whenever they were far from prying eyes. It was the sort of smile that told her to calm down and place her trust in him. And so she did. "Issue a letter on behalf of the crown. Address it to the Imperishable King..."

As it turned out, having an open-minded fuck buddy was actually pretty fun. I had no interest in tying myself down with marriage, since doing so would cause a really big power imbalance in Dorne and I'm not about to deal with that headache if at all possible. That said, Dornishwomen were... well... really fun to be around with. And being their first King, not just Prince but King, meant there was a bunch of them throwing themselves at me and thank the ROB for giving me this peak-human form, because I otherwise would not have been able to keep up with all of them. Saera Targaryen, who came here a few weeks ago, seeking my protection, gave me that Hawk Tuah Gawk-Gawk 3000 and was pretty much right at home among the Dornish.

And no, I didn't grant her protection because of the absolutely mind-boggling coitus that we were having. I didn't know who she was at all when I first welcomed her under my protection. I only found out about a week later when the little minx snuck into my chambers one night and did the badabingbadaboom.

Anyway, with Dorne now under my rule – completely by accident, I might add – I now had a lot more freedom to spend more time with my Dragon, whom I nicknamed as Amatsu, because its name in Monster Hunter was Amatsumagatsuchi, which was a fucking mouthful. Amatsu was... a very odd dragon. Now, first and foremost, I only knew about him because of MH lore, but I never really fought one before. What I did know was that Amatsu had the power to control the freaking weather, summoning drizzles or outright lightning storms, depending on what he wanted; this ability was actually paramount to my take over of Dorne, because farming and cultivating crops and shit suddenly became so much easier when you've got a God-Dragon who can control the weather and just make it rain. And since they saw me as the master of Amatsu, even though it was more like a father and son relationship, the Dornish saw me as their messiah.

Lisan al-Gaib.

Hehe.

Beyond that, Amatsu was a beautiful dragon, with frills and fins, and golden tendrils. Wherever he flew, people went to their knees and cried and prayed to the Bringer of Rain, the Dragon of Life and Water, the latter of which was a primordial element that was pretty much sacred to the Rhoynar faith. Amatsu having pretty much full control over water elevated him even higher in the eyes of the Dornish and those river people who kept to the old Rhoynar traditions.

Anyway, administrative work meant I didn't have that much time to myself. But now I had plenty of it and the first thing I did was get on Amatsu and flew across the open skies. Behind me, Saera Targaryen held on for dear life as Amatsu surged forward at speeds even the fastest Targaryan Dragon could only ever dream of, soaring through the open skies like a meteorite.

AN: Chapter 40 is out on (Pat)reon!