Chapter 12: Going Forward

115 AC

I gave a long exhale, feeling the biting cold of the morning air. The sharpness chased away the fatigue that had been building up within, allowing me to focus on the opponent before me.

My opponent was a slippery one. Ser Tyland was surefooted, and his movement graceful. His favored fighting style was to stay back at a distance, quickly dancing in and out to strike whenever the opportunity presented itself, and punish his enemies when they made a mistake.

Unfortunately for him, I could match his speed. If it was a dance he sought, then a dance I shall provide.

Every time he tried to create distance, I quickly closed the gap, clinging to him like barnacles on a ship's hull. All the while, we exchanged attacks, crossing blades with one strike after another. We were roughly equal in strength, and thus we were able to weather each other's onslaught.

Once more, Ser Tyland tried to create a gap, but I wouldn't give him the chance. Two quick steps brought me close to him, faster than I ever moved before, and I continued the onslaught. The best way to defeat someone who preferred to counter was by not giving them a chance at all. A rending slash to the stomach, too sudden to be properly defended against, left him reeling, and I continued my rush of attacks. Shoulders, upper arms, thighs, and chest. He did well in mitigating the worst of it, perhaps hoping to tire me out, but he made a mistake by giving me the chance to control the momentum.

I advanced as I saw Tyland was unbalanced by a thrust to the collar. Not giving him the chance to recover, I swung my sword mightily into his arm. He attempted to parry my blade hastily, but it was less than perfect, and I saw his arm tremble. I locked his blade with a thrust. A sudden twist of my wrist, and his blunted steel fell to the ground, disarming him.

Silence reigned in the courtyard for a moment, and the ring of observers waited for the inevitable conclusion.

"I yield." Tyland said with both of his palms facing me. "You won the bout, Ser Corwyn."

I answered him with a nod. "You fought well."

The onlookers were clapping and shouting their congratulations in response. Many of them were my father's men, and they were always eager to see me humble other houses in the yard.

"Care for another bout? We can make it the best three of five."

Tyland just chuckled slightly. "No, I don't think the result will change. You're a much better warrior than I am."

I frowned. "You understated your own skill. You're a fine warrior yourself." I huffed a bit and rolled my shoulders. "Though I wouldn't force you to continue, I began to tire myself."

We made our way back from the yard. I noticed the young Prince Aemond was among the onlookers, watching us with a gleam of interest in his eyes, typical for a child. Tyland and I made a bow of respect as we acknowledged him before we left.

He couldn't be older than five, I thought, yet he was already greatly interested in swordsmanship. He reminded me of myself, a very long time ago. Unlike me, though, he was likely to be a regular lad.

"Ser Corwyn." I heard Tyland speak from my side. "Care for a walk with me? I find pleasant strolling after a spar is the best way to cool oneself after a spar."

He had something to share, I gathered. "I'd be glad to."

We walked side-by-side, me pointing out some interesting bits of High Tide and its history to him, and Tyland hummed politely in response. I loved my home, but I certainly didn't expect a man who was raised in a place as storied as Casterly Rock to be easily impressed.

On our way together, we passed through several lords and ladies. Many were still staying on the Driftmark, even after the wedding and the celebration were done a few days ago. They either had some business left to do with my family or were just waiting for better wind and tide.

"How's the development on your island going?" I asked him, finally beginning a talk of import. If we had any shared interest, it would be the Stepstones. "I haven't visited Red Island, but I heard you've done a good job at it." Or so my men said.

"I've focused much on defense so far, so nothing is different than what you're doing. My keep was already defensible, at least, even if it isn't nearly done yet." He was pondering something before he spoke once more. "I believe it's nigh time for us to cooperate more on the matter of defense. It didn't miss me how not everyone took to their new duty quickly. Already, gaps have formed between each island."

That was true. Not all men who accepted the titles of lords in the Stepstones had the manpower, resources, or experience necessary for their duty. It wouldn't even be a problem if we had decades to spare, normally. But right now, time was of the essence.

The Lannisters were among the richest houses in Westeros, if not the richest. Some whispered that my father was even wealthier than them, though I couldn't be sure of how true that was. In any case, the Lannisters would be an important factor in the Stepstones. Their wealth allowed them to develop their island quicker than most, as the power of the golden dragons should never be underestimated.

"I agree. Not all Stepstone lords possess the ability to deter enemies by themselves. Unless we're united as one, nothing can stop our enemies from attacking us piece-by-piece, starting from the weakest link. I will petition the Lord Governor about the issue. Perhaps we can formulate a better defense plan."

He looked skeptical at that. He knew as much as I did how sporadic Daemon's involvement in the Stepstones was.

"If you say so." Tyland finally said. "I will back such measures if necessary. I had talked with some of the lords as well, such as the Lords Garth and Marq. All agree we need to stand together or else lose one by one."

I voiced my agreement, and we continued our talks on how to improve the condition of our respective islands, discussing plans and ideas.

He's smart. I thought after we splitted as the conversation was finished. Certainly a pleasant man to converse with. He would be a great addition to the Stepstones. I thought ruefully. If not for damnable politics, we could work together to improve the world.

I tried to ignore the politics, but I feared it was for naught. Even the wedding of my sister was merely another chance for the blacks to gather as we welcomed the joining of Prince Daemon to our faction. How was I supposed to ignore it?

The best I could do was hope the factionalism wouldn't affect my work in the Stepstones, but how realistic would that be?

I found my way to the bathroom. I found the tub inside was already full of hot water and sighed. I told the servants already that I preferred a quick coldwater bath after morning exercises, but I suppose they didn't want me to catch any disease in this weather.

I continued my thoughts as I submerged myself in the tub.

It had only been a few days since the day of the wedding, when my sweet sister married her prince in a festive ceremony.

I thought they'd wait for another few more months before holding the wedding, but since we were already at the onset of winter, it was understandable that they chose to do it now. Besides, Daemon was hardly a patient man.

Despite Daemon's insistence that he could convince Viserys easily, it turned out to be much more difficult in reality. King Viserys was somewhat opposed to the marriage, especially since Daemon originally planned to wed Laena without observing the mourning period for Lady Rhea. It took months of negotiation to take care of that, and Daemon was a hair's breath away from simply marrying my sister without his brother's leave.

Thankfully, the months of negotiation lasted long enough to cover the mourning period, and both Viserys and Daemon finally could be made to see sense. I was grateful for that. Marrying without his brother's leave could lead to another exile for Daemon, something we didn't need.

Being a prince of the realm meant he could afford to hold his wedding in King's Landing, though Daemon insisted it would either be held in Driftmark or Bloodstone. Bloodstone was hardly fit for such an occasion, which is why Driftmark was chosen.

The ceremony wasn't as grand an affair as Laenor's wedding, but it served well enough. Septon Jansen oversaw the wedding, as hundreds of highborns witnessed the ceremony. I, of course, used that opportunity to introduce some of my liquor to the lords present, even taking some of my stockpile earlier than my original plan. An unfortunate but necessary choice. Already, some guests have expressed interest in my products.

The rogue prince was not much beloved among the nobility, though nonetheless, we had a sizable number of guests come to visit. Look around them, and one could see several Crownland Lords, Lords of the Stepstones, along with other friends of Daemon and Father from the rest of the realm.

King Viserys was also in attendance. There was some doubt whether he'd attend, as it was rare for him to leave King's Landing, but he chose to attend in the end. He brought all of the Kingsguard Knights with him, along with his wife and all his children.

As for the reason for his attendance, it was obvious, seeing as how the first thing he did after his arrival was to hold Aenar on his lap. His first grandchild and the heir to his heir.

I counted it a blessing from the Seven that, despite the factionalism, no one had seen fit to make a problem during the happy occasion. Perhaps because the majority in attendance were blacks. The greens present knew any trouble would damage them the most. Even Ser Criston kept a neutral facade and busied himself with guarding the royal family instead of starting trouble.

The subsequent celebratory joust was quite excellent as well. It was the first time a joust was held in Driftmark since I was born, according to Mother. I was disappointed at losing in the semifinals, though I couldn't blame anyone in particular. Daemon was simply the better jouster that day, defeating me after nine tilts and Ser Criston after eleven. I wasn't even trying to throw the match.

I stayed in the water until it turned cold before I left the tub and dried myself. The bath was pleasant, I suppose, even though I always felt guilty about doing such. It took a lot of effort to heat all that water.

"Now what?" I muttered to myself.

I had nothing to do today, and nowhere to go in particular. So instead, I decided to fetch my lute from my room and go to one of the sheltered porches to play it in peace.

I plucked the strings of my lute. The act of strumming always calmed me down. It wasn't really important what songs I played. Some of them were common songs I learned here, but others were something I learned in my previous life, if not mangled slightly.

That will be a perfect analogy for myself, if I have to say so. I mused. I'm not sure how much I have in common with myself from my previous life. Sometimes, instead of the same person, I felt more like a mangled recollection of my old memories.

I didn't remember how long I was playing before I noticed an approaching presence.

"That's a beautiful melody." I heard her speak from behind me. "Though I do not recognize what song it was."

"I'd be surprised if you recognized it. No one's supposed to know that song." I said as I turned my head. I saw Rhaenyra there, alone. No servant or guard was beside her. Not even Aenar, who had been a constant fixture these past few days.

She took a seat beside me. "I haven't heard you play the lute in a long time." She said. She sounded cheerful today. "I'm glad to see you actually improved. I still remember your first attempt. That was quite horrible."

I waved it off. "Nobody becomes skilled on their first try." I went here looking for peace and instead found my mind more jumbled than ever. Perhaps I shouldn't have thought too deeply about my previous life. "Where's Laenor? Aenar?"

"Laenor is with his friend, Ser Joffrey." She said it with a knowing smirk. "As for Aenar, he's sleeping. He must be tired after playing with Father all day." Rhaenyra shook her head in mock exasperation. "Speaking of him, have you looked at how Aenar sits? He knew how to do it now." She laughed cheerfully at that. "Still fall down a lot though."

"I did. He does that a lot." I stopped plucking the strings. "I see you're recovering well from the birth." I said. If I didn't know any better, I might not believe she had given birth at all. "That's good, princess."

Rhaenyra frowned at my words. "There's no need to call me princess when we're not at court, Corwyn. Here, I'm just Rhaenyra."

I shrugged. "Old habits die hard."

I was still struggling to put our relationship into words. It used to be much simpler when she was merely a friend and cousin of mine. Now that she was also the mother of my child, I wasn't sure what our relationship was.

I was fond of her; that much was obvious. I was unsure if this could be considered love. I thought it was too strong a word to describe it. Did she feel the same way? I couldn't even tell.

"Aenar would turn seven months old in another week." I said as I began strumming my lute again. "Time flies. It was only half a year, and yet it felt longer."

"I know what you're talking about." She said. "He grew quickly."

We sat there without talking for a while, simply savoring the moment. My fingers danced across the lute mindlessly.

To hell with this. I wasn't good with this sort of matter.

"Let me ask you something, then." I swallowed. A cup of water would be nice. "Are you happy? With everything?"

Rhaenyra tilted her head. "Why are you asking me that?"

"Plenty of reasons, you know that." I said, then, in a lower tone, "You say you accept me as a consort in all but name, and I do the same, but I'm not sure if I'm doing a good job with that. We barely even met for months. Are you satisfied with that?"

Rhaenyra thought over my words. To be honest, I wasn't sure what I wanted her to say as her answer. Did I want her to end our relationship and move on now that I gave her an heir? Did I want her to tearfully confess her eternal love for me? I wasn't sure which was worse.

No, what I wanted was something else. A clarification.

"I am happy." She said it softly. "That we need to keep our relationship a secret is lamentable, certainly, and so is the need to limit our contact. But I don't regret any of my choices. I never regret choosing you or having Aenar."

She eyed me suspiciously.

"Unless you're the one having a doubt? Did I fail somehow?"

"I do have a doubt." I admitted. "Though, it's not on you. Rather, I'm not sure if I did right by you. I'm thankful for your words. It helped lift some of my doubt."

Some, but not all. For the rest, I could only hope it'd fix itself eventually.

"Are you certain you're not just lonely?" She asked me. "If it's the problem, then I know what we can do to rectify it." Rhaenyra said cheerfully. "I imagine you must be lonely on that quaint island of yours. Perhaps I should visit you more in the future. With Laenor, of course."

"I appreciate that." I smiled, or at least tried to. I did hope it looked like a smile. "If there's anything I can do for you in return?"

"Oh, there is one thing you can do. I'm actually thinking about having a second child." She grinned mischievously. "I'd rather not have Aenar grow up lonely."

I snorted. "Is that a jape?

Her face turned serious. "No."

I looked her in the eyes. By the Seven, she's serious. "How long will your father stay?"

"It should be for another three days, at least, though I won't be surprised if he delays his return. He enjoys his time with Aenar." She shook her head. "He is his first grandson."

I could guess the reason for the doubt. While Viserys no doubt wanted to stay longer, Queen Alicent was likely eager to return home from what she saw as a nest of vipers, surrounded by blacks as she was.

I couldn't even blame her. I, too, would be anxious to bring my young children amidst my political rivals.

"Well, in that case, we need to wait until he leaves." I leaned in closer and whispered. "Of course, if my princess insists, then I may know a place or two where a pair can stay undisturbed for a long time."

She licked her lips. "I can hardly wait."

"The problem with the defense of the Stepstones, as always, is the lack of capable sailors and captains." I said as I walked alongside Daemon. "Not to say we don't have some seasoned captains. Tyland and Edric are able sailors. The Greyjoys as well, though I have some doubt about how long they can last before they begin raiding themselves. Even then, I'm afraid there are still too few of them. There's also the problem of a lack of ships."

The Redwynes were well-known to be fine sailors, and Tyland Lannister had some experience leading the Lannister fleet, but the rest were dubious. Even the Graftons and Manderlys, whom I expected to send more sailors among their ranks. Jon Grafton was more an apparatchik than a sailor, and Willas Manderly was a more traditional knight.

Even the more capable sailors weren't necessarily trusted. For all their skills at sea, the Ironborn were famous for being a greedy, capricious lot who were as much pirates as anyone who used to call the Stepstones home. The king graced the Greyjoys with an island to reward them for their years of quiet obedience rather than loyalty, as it was no secret how much they chafed under Iron Throne's control. How many Ironborn captains went rogue throughout the years, despite the king's law against raiding?

It was a pity, to be sure. Even if their home islands were merely barren rocks unsuitable for crops or herds, with their skill at sea, they could make a great amount wealth without the need for raiding simply by facilitating trade throughout the Sunset Sea, much like Braavos did in the east. The Ironborn were too blinded by past glories to the point they couldn't see how their raiding days were over once Westeros was no longer ruled by a hundred kings.

As for the rest of the lords? They were landlubbers through and through. Mayhaps they'd grow to be proper sailors, but that was for the future.

Daemon pondered it over: "How many ships do we have? I have five warships to my name. How many does each lord own?"

I tallied it in my mind for a moment before answering. "I have four warships—ten if you count all the ships sworn to me. Ser Tyland has ten ships in total as well, with three of them warships. The rest I don't know, though I'm certain each had at least three ships at the bare minimum. That'll put us at sixty ships at minimum, with around twenty of them being ships of war."

Daemon shook his head. "Nowhere near enough. A single flotilla from the Triarchy can sail here by the fortnight and crush all of our ships without any problem. A fleet of cogs and merchantman won't deter anyone."

"They can crush us, but they won't. The Triarchy won't declare war without warning. With their failure in the previous war, many of the sitting councillors lost a considerable amount of prestige, and presently they're busy shoring up their support for the next election." It was hardly their fault they lost to dragons, but electorates were famously inconsiderate. "Combined with their material losses during the previous war, even if they want to, it is unlikely they'll gamble on another war so soon after."

Besides, those merchants took their contract seriously. They wouldn't break the peace accord without sufficient cause. They'd lie and make a fake one if necessary, but they wouldn't break it without an excuse prepared.

"As for Dorne, they're naturally more perfidious than the Triarchy, but they're never a great naval power to begin with. They're limited in their capability to directly harm us." Even at the height of the war, Dorne didn't do more than provide coins and sellswords. "The paltry navy they have is dedicated to defending their own shores. And should they choose to build more ships? We would know years in advance."

"We need to know their movement." Daemon said, his eyes deep in thought. "We can't win if we only ever react to the enemy's moves. There will be times where we need to act, eventually." He glanced at me. "You are knowledgeable about their affairs. How do you hear of what our enemies are doing?"

I looked at him in bemusement. "I'm not a spymaster who keeps a massive network of whisperers, if that's what you ask me. No, my family has an extensive trading fleet. Those merchants sailed everywhere, and they sent me words," Including Dorne and the Three Daughters. Despite the animosity between each of our countries, it would be unwise to reject foreign merchants for no good reason when they brought coins and goods. "They give me news, true. But all they tell me is something anyone can hear by visiting their ports. Not something terribly urgent or secret."

Daemon was considering something. His eyes were gleaming when he spoke again. "What would you need to set up a true spy ring, then?"

I shrugged. "If it were up to me, I'd begin with gathering men who aren't obviously Westerosi at first glance. Preferably someone who's familiar with how our opponent thinks and acts and thus can blend seamlessly in their cities."

"Aye, that would be a good start." Daemon said. "I know a woman who can help you. She's a Lyseni, well-spoken, and sharp-witted. She's a formidable woman, and she can do much for our cause. I'll introduce you to her someday."

I narrowed my eyes, but I didn't comment. I heard of how Daemon used to have dalliances with a Lyseni woman in the past. I hoped he didn't use this excuse just to reconnect with his favoured whore when he just wedded to my sister.

"If she's as capable as you suggest, then I won't have a problem with her." I said it carefully.

"Good. But that will need to wait." Daemon answered.

After his wedding to Laena, Daemon seemed to change somehow. He seemed determined to make something out of the island, no longer content with leaving others to work for it. Perhaps he was dreaming of giving a prosperous island to his future children?

Or maybe because Laena would move to Bloodstone soon.

The Bloodstone castle wasn't anywhere close to complete, but the result of two years worth of effort had shown itself. Daemon seemed to take a different approach to castle-building than I did. While I was focusing on building a small, defensible castle that could be expanded slowly in the future, he was content to take a longer time building a 'proper' castle.

The main keep was large enough, despite not being done yet. As for the courtyard, it would be quite spacious once the walls were complete. The skeletons of several towers were jutting out of the ground. Judging by the size of their foundation, they would be reasonably tall once finished.

I was grateful that Daemon wasn't trying to outdo Harren the Black.

We reached a junction and took a left turn. We talked a bit more as we continued walking until we arrived at a large oaken door at the end of the hallway. "We're here." Daemon said to me as he opened the door to a spacious hall with windows on two sides of the room facing the sea. Inside was a long trestle table where some men were already seated.

Other than Daemon and recently Tyland, I wasn't well acquainted with any Stepstone Lords. I've talked with some of them, obviously. Arnold was arrogant, and Bennard a braggart, but both were bold and dependable. Manfryd was honourable, though a tad hotheaded. Edric Redwyne and Jon Grafton were oddly industrious and mercantile for Westerosi highborns and would prove instrumental in building our trade. The rest I never met until recently, and I only had their reputation to judge them with.

Of the lords who were already present, I recognized the person in Harlaw's livery as the man who acted as regent for Lord Veron Greyjoy, and he gave us a gruff nod in acknowledgment. Others, such as the Tully, Mooton, Arryn, Baratheon, and Grafton exchanged a more cordial greeting with their liege lord.

We took our seats and waited as the rest made their way here. Tyrell and Redwyne came in next, followed by Lannister and Reyne. The glum Bennard Stark arrived last, accompanied by stout Willas Manderly.

It was the first council of the Stepstone Lords as summoned by the Lord Governor, and it began with a heavy silence. Many of these lords had never met Prince Daemon before his wedding, much less each other. No one was sure how to act or what to say. Instead, they were content to wait and watch. Gauging Prince Daemon with appraising eyes. Daemon, for his part, answered with his own sharp gaze, cruel and cold. The Lord Governor was seated at the high seat of his table, and he looked every inch a king. A map was spread on the table. The newest map of the Stepstones, with the islands given their proper names and the newest keeps and settlements marked.

The silence was broken by Rigen Harlaw.

"We encountered a couple o' raiding ships on our way here." His face was sour at the mention of the raiders, though whether because he was being attacked or out of anger at the existence of non-Ironborn raiders, I couldn't tell. "Burned one of 'em down while the other fled with their tail between their legs."

"Our island was raided as well, just nine days ago." Added Ser Edgar, the regent of Mistwood. "We repelled them, but it was annoying to deal with. We scarcely had a pirate attack this year, and suddenly there's been an uptick of them these past two months."

Gruff Bennard interjected. "A blind man can see they're being driven here. No pirate will continue to attack a hard place where they've been driven out time and again. They're likely paid for by our enemies."

"Not all." Said Jon Grafton, shaking his head. "I don't doubt some of them are paid for by our enemies, but others can be merely opportunists who think us soft targets."

"It doesn't change anything. Whether the enemy paid for some or all of them, they still make all of those pirates our problem." Tyland said.

I decided it was about time to lend my voice. "I agree with Lord Tyland. We're trusted to rule the island with the understanding that we'll keep it free from pirates. What reason those pirates have for attacking us is a lesser concern." At least for them. I glanced at Daemon. It was certainly a great concern for him. "If they think we're soft, then it's best if we disabuse them of that notion quickly."

Daemon stirred. "You're expected to continue strengthening each of your navies. However, it'll be unfair to order you to continue building ships when the islands themselves are still impoverished. I had talked with the king, and his grace agreed to send the royal navy to provide a regular patrol of our waters for the foreseeable future." He finally said.

I scrunched my nose. Daemon didn't tell me about that development. I hoped it was real. If it were proven to be false, then all of us would be very cross.

"Furthermore, we're planning to increase the level of cooperation between each lord. With ravens already trained to fly between each island, I expect there to be no problem." Daemon continued. "Each lord should be capable of working with each other for the purpose of mutual defense. When our enemies look at the islands, I will not have them see a weak link to exploit."

Some were nodding at that. The lesser lords, those who didn't have a lot of ships or men to their name would be especially happy. The ones who had more would be burdened a bit more heavily.

"With the king pledging the royal navy to our defense, I can't see why not. We have the numbers necessary." I said. "Perhaps it'll be better if we begin to chart the island more properly and divide the formal route and schedule for patrols. A simple thing, but one that can improve our defense quickly."

So far, each lord has merely patrolled the islands wherever and whenever they pleased. While that could deter some smaller and smarter pirates, some other pirates would take the risk anyway, especially if they were motivated for more than just wealth.

"There's also the matter of winter." Manderly said. "The Citadel had sent the white ravens. It's just a matter of time until it arrives."

"Not like you can feel it here." Bennard spoke again. "We're so close to winter, yet you can barely feel its bites. As long as we have a roof to shelter us, I doubt anyone will die of the cold."

Prince Daemon spoke up once more. "I fought a war in winter here, and indeed, it was milder than most in the realm. We barely saw a snowfall in our time here, and there were no icings on the seas. The winter storms were far more troublesome than the ice."

"It'll be trouble in the open sea." I added. "But there are few storms in the inner sea. Those lords whose land faces the open sea should be doubly cautious, and I suggest that our sailors stick closer to the shores whenever they sail during winter."

"Even if the cold isn't a problem, food will still be an issue." Garth Tyrell piped up. "Even with a mild climate, the underdeveloped state of the islands means we likely won't produce enough food to weather the winter by ourselves."

"Which meant buying more food from the Stormlands." Muttered the until now quiet Marq Reyne.

Lord Arnold Arryn smirked as he swilled his wine goblet. "Well, then, I think the course of our discussion is set. We're to decide the patrol routes of our ships and discuss how to best prepare for winter." He took a sip of his wine. "Where to start?"

Thus, the discussion finally began.

Author Notes:

For people who're wondering what the song Corwyn played, think a half remembered, medievalized Wonderwall

This chapter is oddly difficult to write. Like hell, I don't even know why. I end up writing parts of the next chapter, the next next chapter, play EU4 and binge read my backlog before I got this done.

Finally got to crosspost this fic on AO3 at least. Give a shout there too if you have an account there.