Dorne 1 BC.
Visenya Targaryen.
One more day and they'd be at war with Dorne for true. The plans that she, Rhaenys, and Aegon along with Orys had come up with some years before for the invasion were long since abandoned. As was the idea that Rhaenys had of taking Meraxes and flying to Sunspear alone. Aemon had told them all much about their family's dealing with Dorne in the future, his past, or whatever one could name a timeline that had both happened and yet had not.
The one abiding thought from all that her husband had spoken of was that the Dornish were not to be trusted and very much not to be underestimated. So after going over their plans once more with Aegon and Rhaenys, Aemon had bid them fly with him and had one last lesson to impart to them before their invasion began. Visenya wouldn't lie and say that she shivered a little at the place her husband had brought them to. Even more so since both Rhaenys and Meraxes were with them. Still, they landed on the highest of the sand dunes some distance away from the keep and village that was located behind the sand-covered walls. Landed and readied themselves.
While Aemon knelt with a hand in Ghost's fur and his eyes closed, Visenya joined her brother and sister who both spoke to her about the upset stomach that she kept seeming to be suffering with of a morn. Waving off their concerns and telling them both that she was well, for now, she instead took a keener look at the lands around her. Aemon had told them a tale about what he'd named the First Dornish War, a name alone that had been enough to give Aegon pause. During it, their Warden of the South, Harlan Tyrell, had led a large host across the sands and had lost a quarter of it before he'd even reached the keep which he had then found abandoned. More men were then lost to sickness as they ate fish from the almost poisonous Brimstone that flowed nearby. It was not the only tale Aemon had told them about the foreboding keep or the House that ruled over it.
"Prince Oberyn and Lord Uller's bastard daughter were together for as long as I knew the man. Not wed, but mother and father to four daughters all the same. When in his cups the prince would oft speak of his paramour's House."
"Why weren't they wed?" Rhaenys asked curiously, stopping Aemon from speaking on what he may have been about to do. For a moment at least.
"I know not, your grace. Mayhap it was her bastard status or Oberyn's own wishes. Though from what I gathered they were no different than any married couple in their love for each other."
"Continue with your tale, Aemon. Hellholt." Aegon said and Aemon nodded.
"Aye, where was I…yes, that's it. How Hellholt got its name. It wasn't because of the keep itself or the lands it sits upon but all down to the actions of one of its lords. Oberyn told me that one of the earliest Lord Uller's invited most of his rivals to a feast in his halls. As the feast was taking place, he and his men slipped away and left those inside to their revelry. They then set fire to the great hall and burned every man and woman inside."
"That's monstrous," Rhaenys said aghast.
"No, my queen, that's Dorne," Aemon replied.
Looking to her husband and then to the keep, Visenya shuddered once again only to feel comforted when Aemon opened his eyes and looked her way. The smile on his face was a true one and one he rarely directed at anyone but her. Offering him her own smile back, Visenya watched as Aemon rose to his feet and pointed to the keep before removing Longclaw and beginning to draw a crude version of Hellholt in the sand. Atop three of its towers including the largest of them, as well as at two places that seemed to be walls, Aemon had drawn five large X's.
"The scorpions are located where they're marked here. From what I remember, the one that…." Visenya could see how much Aemon didn't wish to speak the words and just how grateful Aegon and Rhaenys were that he did not. "Was atop the tallest of the towers."
"So we fly and destroy them all. Thus we ensure that never comes to pass." Aegon said firmly only for Aemon to shake his head.
"No, you don't. I do."
"Aemon?" Visenya said worriedly.
"None of you have truly faced scorpions before, trust me 'tis for the best if you see me do so before then doing so for yourself. Rhaegal and I are used to avoiding even more dangerous things than mere scorpion bolts." Aemon said and Visenya knew full well he was speaking of the ice spears that had been aimed at him by the Night King and his White Walkers. "Watch and learn and then when the time comes for you to face them, you'll be far better prepared."
Both she and her sister nodded while Aegon did so more reluctantly. Then Aemon moved to her and whispered that he would return unharmed before kissing her softly and bidding Ghost to stand by her side. Standing with the white wolf and with her sister and brother, Visenya watched as Aemon climbed up onto Rhaegal's back and took to the sky. Aegon handed both her and Rhaenys a Myrish Eye and through them, they looked at Hellholt and the green dragon that flew towards it. They were not the only eager eyes that looked that way, Ghost, Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar all watched as Aemon and Rhaegal neared their destination.
"Please be safe, please return unharmed my love," Visenya whispered as the first flames enveloped the tallest of the towers.
Two bolts were fired from the walls as Rhaegal's flames covered the second of the towers and the green dragon dodged them both almost effortlessly. Another bolt was fired from the last remaining tower and it too flew by harmlessly before that tower and whoever had fired that bolt was too covered in flames. Only one more was fired before the two scorpions on the walls were in flames too and while some arrows were fired, they all bounced off Rhaegal's scales when the green dragon moved in mid-air to block them from hitting its rider.
"Did you see that? He used Rhaegal against the arrows knowing they couldn't harm the dragon." Aegon said happily.
"Or Rhaegal did so himself," Visenya said as they heard the loud roar that Rhaegal let out and watched the flames he let loose in the air, both of them in warning and nothing more.
All in all, it had taken no more than a few moments for the most dangerous of the keeps defenses to be nullified. Lives had certainly been lost in the doing so and yet Visenya mourned them not. As Rhaegal flew back toward them, Visenya saw Aegon move to Rhaenys and take her in his arms. Her brother spoke softly to their sister and kissed her more than once. Both of them were greatly relieved that the threat that Aemon had spoken about in regard to Rhaenys was somewhat ended.
Visenya tried to not consider the fact that it was to be many years from now that Rhaenys fell according to Aemon. Instead, she concentrated on the fact that he had said the bolt that had taken Meraxes from the sky was both a lucky shot and an unexpected one. That and it had been fired from atop a tower that now no longer stood. If in time Lord Uller rebuilt that tower, she herself would see the thing destroyed once more. As for the scorpions themselves, seeing them in action had helped greatly and while you could never be fully prepared for anything, they were all now much better prepared to face them in the future. Something which as much as destroying the towers themselves had been Aemon's true intent.
Rhaegal landed a few feet away from them and yet it was still enough for the sand to be blown in their faces. Waiting where she stood for her husband to come to her, Visenya wiped the sand away and had only just done so when she felt herself being taken in Aemon's arms.
"You got them all?" she asked and he nodded "And you are unharmed?"
"I am well, my love. The tower is gone and while that alone is no guarantee, I believe it will change Rhaenys' fate. As will what we do next."
"The Prince's Pass," she said.
"Aye, the Prince's Pass."
Aemon spoke to both Aegon and Rhaenys and all four of them climbed atop their dragons and flew back to where the fleet awaited. While her brother and sister wished for the comfort of a night in their cabin, Visenya had grown to enjoy a night spent outdoors with Aemon keeping her warm. So she and Aemon bid farewell to Aegon and Rhaenys and arranged to meet them on the morrow a mile or more from where the Dornish Army awaited. Then they once again took to their dragons' backs and flew back over the lands and deeper into the sands.
The place they finally decided to name their own for the night was peaceful and serene. A few rocks offered respite should the wind pick up and blow the desert sand their way and they had more than enough in their packs for a decent night's and morning's meals. Still, Ghost went hunting and came back with fresh meat for Aemon to cook over the fire and after eating and laying together, Visenya fell to sleep in her husband's warm embrace.
Waking the next morning it was once again to a feeling of sickness. Visenya soon found herself doubled over as she lost the remains of her night's meal on the sands. Aemon stood behind her and held her hair back as he rubbed his hand softly on her back, the comforting feeling of it doing much to make her feel somewhat better. Less than an hour later she felt more herself and even ate to break her fast. She could see just how worried Aemon was for her and with the dragons off getting their own morning meal, Visenya rose to her feet to join Aemon and put his fears at rest. Only for Ghost to raise his haunches and growl silently at something in the distance.
"Aemon?"
"A scouting party, seven or eight of them." Aemon said worriedly "The dragons are not going to make it in time. Ghost, you know what to do, Visenya to me." Aemon said commandingly and she had moved almost before he finished the words.
Aemon loosened the straps on the sheaths for his daggers and moved Longclaw as if to make sure it would be unsheathed even more easily. Something that Visenya did too with Dark Sister and which earned her a proud look from her husband in the process.
"I know you're fierce in the yard, my love. This is different. Fighting for your life is not like a spar, it's bloody and nasty work. Aim to kill. Here, here and here." Aemon said pointing to his armor "The horses, aim for the back of the legs and hamstring them or under the belly if you can't reach it. Should neither be an option, aim for the straps of the saddle."
"Aemon…" she said, worried far more for him than for herself and wondering if he too felt the same way, something that his next words proved.
"Should the worst happen, move to Ghost and climb on his back, he'll take you to the dragons."
"Aemon."
"Your life, Senya, your life is all you need to take from this fight. Worry not on mine own and we'll both see the morrow." Aemon said as he kissed her cheek and then the horsemen came into sight.
In the blink of an eye, Aemon's two daggers had flown through the air, and to her shock, it was the horses and not their riders that were their targets. Two horses fell to the ground as blood gushed from their necks and in doing so they'd crushed their riders beneath them. Like a white shadow, Ghost flew through the air just as easily as the daggers had and another horse and rider fell. Aemon raced past her and cut the leg of another horse and the saddle on yet another. The first horse like the others fell to the ground and took its rider out of action for a few moments at least. While the horse that had its saddle cut, now stood unharmed as its rider slipped and fell to the ground.
Three men remained and Aemon moved to deal with one while Ghost moved to deal with the other which left the last for her. Visenya held Dark Sister as the man atop the last horse tried to ride her down. The simple side step she did was enough to make the horse and its rider's sword miss her. Dark Sister, however, did not miss. Just as Aemon had shown her, Visenya aimed its blade at one of the three places he'd bid her to. She found purchase along the horse's belly and fortune favored her. As since she'd not pushed her sword too deep, only the tip had caught the horse and it had opened its stomach completely.
The man who'd ridden the horse had jumped from its back and now moved towards her. Taking her stance, Visenya held Dark Sister ready for the attack. With a look on his face that told her just how little he fancied her chances, the tall Dornishman moved and brought his blade down in an arc. Visenya parried and resisted the opening; it had left her Instead, she waited for a better one. Feint and thrust and then feint again were all it took. Dark Sister and Visenya herself both then saw the true opening when it came and with a slash just above the gorget, Visenya opened the man's neck and took his life.
"Senya," Aemon shouted as he ran towards her, his relief clear once she nodded
"The others are they?"
"Ghost is dealing with them," Aemon said and Visenya looked to see the no longer white wolf as he ended the remaining threat they faced.
Three men had lived but a little longer than the others before they too had fallen to Ghost's teeth and claws. Those being men who'd fallen under their horses and who now would not rise again. Aemon stood looking over her to make sure she was unharmed and then looked at the man she'd killed. A small smile came to her husband's face when he saw where it was she'd struck the killing blow. Visenya heard the sound of the dragons as they landed and so she moved to Vhagar to let her know she was unharmed. Meanwhile, Aemon had gone to take his daggers back and once he had, he then bid Ghost and the dragons to eat their fill.
"Aegon and Rhaenys need not know of this, not yet," Aemon said and she nodded. "We'll stop by the river to clean up."
"I wasn't scared, Aemon. I feared for you and yet I wasn't scared." Visenya said and Aemon looked at her, moved closer, and kissed her deeply.
"Of course you weren't, my fierce She-Dragon," Aemon said proudly. "Come, these won't be the last men of Dorne to fall to dragons today."
"No, they won't," Visenya said determinately.
The Battle of the Prince's Pass 1 BC
Aegon Targaryen.
After they had watched Aemon destroy the towers of Hellholt along with the scorpions that had been placed there and atop the wall, Aegon and Rhaenys flew back to the cove and took a boat back to their flagship. To Aegon's surprise, neither Visenya nor Aemon joined them and so it was just he and Rhaenys who spoke about what they'd witnessed. Aegon had been more than relieved to see the largest of the towers fall at Hellholt. Both he and Rhaenys had asked Aemon for and were given the full details of what he knew about Meraxes and Rhaenys' fall there and like Aemon they believed the tower had played a key part. As too had the fact that Rhaenys had not expected to face such a threat.
Now not only was the tower removed, but Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya were all now fully aware of what they could find themselves facing. Each of them had watched how Rhaegal had flown and how it had seemed Aemon had almost willed the scorpions to fire upon the green dragon. Aegon even believed that Aemon had deliberately put himself in more danger than he needed to be, just so the lesson was learned by them. It was and had been. So while there was no guarantee that they all wouldn't face dangers of a different sort during the battles to come, they were far more ready to face them than they had once been.
After speaking to Rhaenys and finding out her mind on what they'd seen Aemon do, Aegon turned his attention to the battle on the morrow. Aemon had said that from what he'd gathered during his readings on the wars fought in Dorne that Rhaenys had flown to Sunspear and treated with Princess Meria. Thus leaving the army that readied itself at the Prince's Pass, unhindered. They would very much not be doing that now. Instead, it was fire and blood that they'd bring to that army and all four dragons would be brought to bear.
"We should be abed, Aegon," Rhaenys said after they'd spoken and eaten their fill.
"We should," he said, smiling at his wife as she held out her hand to take his own.
Their coupling was far briefer than either of them truly wished for. More a release of pent-up feelings than a true exploration of each other that it normally would be. It was not without its pleasurable moments and each of them enjoyed the release, but it was sleep more than anything they needed. Rhaenys was the first to wake which in of itself was somewhat unusual. Aegon then woke up as his wife was dressing. They quickly broke their fast and then Aegon gathered their armor. He then handed Rhaenys the Valyrian Steel Dagger he'd had forged and together they made their way to the deck of the ship.
Visenya and Aemon awaited them on the beach and Aemon helped him carry the armor before Aegon sent the boat back to their flagship. They only spoke briefly to confirm the plan of attack, then Aemon helped him put on his armor while Visenya did the same for Rhaenys. Once they were ready, all four of them looked at each other, though no words were spoken. Simple nods of the heads were all the signals they gave to each other before, as one, they climbed on their dragons' backs and all four dragons took to the sky.
They flew together for about half of the distance. Then at his signal, all four dragons parted and flew to their agreed destinations. North, East, South, and West, the dragons would come in from each direction leaving nowhere for the Dornish Army to run to. There would be no cavalry attack, no march of infantry, and most of all, no warning. Today they had but one goal, to break the spirits of the men they faced. By the time they were done, they would leave the men of Dorne in no doubt about what it was they faced when they pulled on a dragon's tail. Soon enough they show their princess too that there was nowhere she, her family, or her people could run and hide for them.
Landing where Aemon had bid him to, Aegon almost chuckled when he saw the bird land nearby. Its white feathers named it a dove and yet its arrival didn't signify peace. Far from it. This particular bird was a harbinger of war and death as were its two brethren that Aegon had no doubt already landed next to Meraxes and Vhagar. Atop Balerion, Aegon awaited the signal from the bird to set off and contemplated on the gifts that his kinsman had been given. Gifts that were both their secret weapon in the war they were about to start and which Aegon could still barely comprehend.
"Princess Meria believed that the best way to fight against dragons was not to fight against dragons." Aemon said as they stood around the map, Orys, Argella, Daemon Velaryon, Visenya, Rhaenys, and Aegon himself all listening eagerly "So they hid and ambushed. Then they scurried off back to their hiding places where neither men nor dragons could find them."
"So they'll do so again, surely," Orys said and Aemon nodded.
"Aye, they will. But as it was when we rode to face the Lords Mooton and Darklyn we do so with a man amongst us who can see through the eyes of animals." Aemon said.
"You'd send Ghost?" Aegon asked.
"No, it's not just Ghost I've taken as my familiar, your grace."
Even Aegon wasn't sure just how many or even where they all were. While he knew it didn't make Aemon, and so them, all-seeing. It did give them an advantage and a weapon to bring to bear that none but they knew about. Smiling to himself when the dove squawked loudly, Aegon rubbed his hand over Balerion's scales and ordered the Black Dread into the sky.
"Soves Balerion."
Rhaenys Targaryen.
The dove squawked and Rhaenys had Meraxes do as she'd bid her. She was fully armored and ready for the fight ahead. Each of their armor's designs had been changed after Visenya's injury during the Field of Fire. Not one chance would be taken with their protection and given it was Dorne, Rhaenys had raised no objections to play her part. Bearing Aegon's dagger on her hip, Rhaenys felt ready for the battle to come. Closing her eyes, she offered up prayers for her husband, sister, and Goodbrother. Though she doubted there was much that could harm Aemon. Which in turn meant those prayers were mainly for her brother and sister.
As she'd waited for the signal to come from the dove, Rhaenys had more than enough time to ponder on things. Given the sheer amount of trouble that conquering Dorne seemed to have cost her House over the years, Rhaenys had wondered if the prize was worth the effort. Aemon had said that when King Daeron, the Young Dragon, had conquered Dorne he'd lost almost ten thousand men in doing so. He'd said too, that Daeron had then lost another forty thousand holding it. After seeing the lands for herself, Rhaenys wasn't sure that Dorne was worth even a tenth of that number.
Aegon, Visenya, and Aemon himself had all told her that things would be different this time. That the plans they made and the things they'd do would not only bring Dorne to the fold much more easily but would save all those lives in the future. Aemon's words now resounded in her head as Meraxes flew towards her destination.
"What we do today, stops the need for it tomorrow, my queen. There will be no need for Daeron to conquer if we've already done so. No need for him to lose his life to men and women who would break parley. I give you my oath that I'll break their will and force them to their knees, my queen. I've been sent back in time to do so, after all."
The damnable thing was that Rhaenys didn't believe that had been what Aemon had been sent back in time for. Seeing him with her sister, watching him and Visenya together, and just seeing the sheer joy in her sister's eyes when she looked at Aemon. That was what Rhaenys believed he'd been sent back for. To allow Visenya to know some of the same love that Rhaenys herself had felt for almost all of her life. Mayhap it was the romantic nature of her heart that told her such, but Rhaenys believed in that side of herself far more than she did any other.
"The gods have fashioned us for love," she whispered as her first sight of the Dornish Army came into view.
Closing her eyes and steadying herself, Rhaenys turned her thoughts only to what it was she now must do. Lowering herself so that she almost lay across Meraxes rather than sitting up and so offering a truer target, Rhaenys bid Meraxes to dive.
"Dracarys," she called out as they flew over the carts.
Wood and flesh were no match for a dragon's flames. The carts that were in the direct line of Meraxes' fire almost exploded. While any man unlucky enough to be near them had been turned to ash in the blink of an eye.
"Dracarys," Rhaenys called out again as men with bows readied them to aim at her and Meraxes. Not a single one of them got the chance to let loose even one arrow. Which made her somewhat proud of herself.
In the distance, Rhaenys could see the other four dragons were loosing their own flames just as truly as Meraxes was. Aemon and Visenya would fly from East to West while she came in from the South and Aegon from the North. After taking one more brief look in each direction to ensure that no harm had come to her kin or their dragons, Rhaenys then concentrated on the task at hand once more.
Some spearmen were next to feel Meraxes' flames. Then some men who had tried to mount their horses. A fly over some caves where men had run to find cover only to find a dragon's flames instead, was then followed by another flight over the cats which bore the supplies to feed the army. They too soon joined their fellow Dornishmen and they too went up in flames.
"Break their Spirit."
"Show them no quarter"
"Leave them in no doubt."
"Be a Dragon."
Aemon, Orys, Visenya, and Aegon, their words resounded in Rhaenys' head as again and again, she brought the fire to the men below. A roar rang out followed by another and then another before Meraxes answered with a loud one of her own. The other three dragons had stopped laying down their flames and so Rhaenys bid Meraxes to do likewise.
Beneath her was a scene from the seven hells itself. Men, horses, and carts burned. An army lay broken and they'd lost not a single man in the doing so. Flying over the fiery scene below, Rhaenys took one last look for any threats or to see if any had learned their lesson not. She found none who she believed had not and so it was to Aemon, Visenya, and Aegon that she bid Meraxes to take her. Her dragon doing so as Rhaenys praised her for all she'd done today.
"Kirimvose, Merakses. Kirimvose sīr olvie." (Thank you, Meraxes. Thank you so much.)
Balerion had landed some distance from the battlefield and Rhaenys could see that Vhagar was there beside her but there was no sign of Rhaegal. Worrying for a moment, she bid Meraxes land and once she had, Rhaenys climbed down hurriedly off her back.
"Aegon, you are unharmed. Visenya?" she asked, relieved first by her sister's smile and then by the feel of her husband as he embraced her "Aemon, where's Aemon? Has he been hurt?"
"Our Goodbrother is unharmed, my love," Aegon said reassuringly as he kissed her cheek and loosened his embrace.
"Visenya?" Rhaenys asked before moving to her sister.
"Aemon has one final thing to do, sister. One more arrow to fire at Princess Meria's cold heart." Visenya said, unworried and unconcerned which was enough to make all of Rhaenys' own worries fade away.
"We didn't even need an army." Aegon chuckled as he, Rhaenys, and Visenya looked out at the carnage they and the four dragons had wrought upon the Dornish Army.
The Wyl of Wyl.
Death had come from above. One moment all was well and they were readying for another dull day and then the fire had rained down on them in torrents. Chaos and panic had ensued and Wyl had barely made it from the field alive. A large number of his men had and probably would not. As he raced from the field, Wyl caught sight of Prince Nymor and directed those with him to help rescue the prince. Soon enough they were all leaving one of the seven hells behind them and swearing revenge. It had been a far cry from just how cocky and confident they had been the night before.
Then he'd almost dared the Targaryens and their dragons to come his way. Wyl, Nymor, and the men who sat with them as they ate and drank, all did their best to outdo each other in their boasts about who they'd kill and how. Some men saying they'd kill Aegon himself and his great dragon too. While others spoke more about bedding one or both of his sister-wives. Something that he'd not lie and say didn't bring some steel to his own manhood at the thought of.
Wyl though had heard some tale that it was the new prince who was the true warrior amongst Aegon's army. That Prince Aemon had bested even Orys Baratheon and so it was him that he wished to see humbled. It was he that he shouted most loudly about. At one point he had even claimed that he'd see the prince's arse bloody with the amount of his men's cocks he'd make him take before he ended him. Proud and drunken boasts that seemed to have little or no chance of coming true now. Though Wyl did still dare to make new ones as they rode for their lives.
"I'll see them pay for this."
"When they fall under my blade they'll wish they were dead."
"They'll rue the day they let Wyl of the Wyl live."
First, he had to survive and make true his escape and so Wyl, Nymor, and the men with him all rode until their horses could ride no more. There were now miles between them and the slaughter they'd left behind. Enough distance for them to feel somewhat comfortable. Taking a pouch of water from his horse's saddle, Wyl took a full mouthful before handing the pouch to the prince. Nymor accepted it gratefully and Wyl could see just how shaken his prince was by what they'd witnessed. What they'd almost been truly caught up in.
"How the fuck did they know?" Nymor asked as he handed Wyl back the water pouch.
"Any commander would, my prince. It was always going to be here or the Boneway that we'd set our forces to intercept their own."
"You think they have an army marching towards us now too?" Nymor asked worriedly.
"I know not, my prince. They may have and even should they not, we've just seen how effective the dragons truly are." Wyl said with a shudder.
They'd downplayed the tales they'd heard of the dragons. Both named those they had come up against thus far as lesser than their own men, as well as naming the tales as exaggerated. Still, they'd thought it would be with men and horses that they'd truly come at them, not dragons. Yes, they'd known the dragons would play their role, but each of them had believed that during the battle itself, they'd be little true threat. After all, it wasn't as if you could lay down flames atop men who fought your own now, was it? Not if you wished your men to see the morrow.
So their plans had called for the landscape that surrounded the Prince's Pass to be used to its best effectiveness. To force the army against them to come at them how they wished them to and to nullify the dragons in the process. Instead, they faced no army and only dragons, and all their plans had gone up in smoke. Literally.
As the horses regained their strength, Wyl took note of just how few men he had with him. There were less than fifty all told. Thanking the gods that thus far no army moved their way, he moved his horse closer to Prince Nymor's own so as to come up with a plan of action going forward. Keeps were out of the question. Wyl doubted that any could withstand one dragon's flames let alone all four. So it was to the mountain passes and caves that they would need to look. Something which again sent a shudder down Wyl's spine as he remembered some of the sights he'd seen before leaving the battle behind.
"Wyl?" Nymor asked.
"I was thinking of what we do next, my prince."
"And?"
The words never got the chance to be uttered. A roar rang out and before he knew it, flames were being loosed all around them. Looking to the path behind him, Wyl was stunned to see molten rocks and burning horses now blocking it. Forward was the only route now open to them and that way a green dragon lay in wait.
"We ride and ride hard. My prince, keep to the sides of the path and make for the caves," he said as Nymor nodded.
It was a risky strategy. Some of their men had already taken to the caves as they had awaited the Targaryen army. They'd found no respite or sanctuary there as the dragons had loosed their flames at the entrances more than once. Wyl almost believed that they'd known they were there and he would have worried there had traitors amongst their ranks if it was not for knowing the men he had marched with. No Dornishman would sell out his country to the dragons no matter the offer. It had been luck, purely that. Or so he hoped.
Despite his horse's reluctance, Wyl bid it to ride and ride hard and the sand steed did as best it could. Even fit and well rested, however, it was no match for the speed of the green dragon that flew his way. Ahead of him, men were soon caught in the dragon's flames and Wyl felt the heat of them and yet not their fiery embrace. Nymor was lost to him. His prince had either been caught in the flames or had diverged from the path as Wyl had bid him to. Whichever it was, it mattered not. Men burned and if Wyl wasn't careful, he'd soon be joining them.
Salvation lay on a small dusty path and as more of his men were caught by the dragon's flames, Wyl made for it. To his utter relief, he wasn't followed as he did so. His horse had then all but collapsed when they made it to the top of the path and to the caves where he'd take shelter. With a last look behind him, Wyl saw the green dragon was still about its work and breathed a sigh of relief. It was to be a very short-lived one.
"What the…"
Where it came from, he knew not. What manner of beast it was, was beyond his comprehension. As white as the sands of Salt Shore and with eyes as crimson as the three-headed Dragon on House Targaryen's sigil, the monster took his horse from him in the blink of an eye. Wyl's hand was next as he moved it to his sword and then his leg followed a moment later. Laying on the ground, crippled and desperately seeking any weapon to fight off the fearsome beast that now moved towards him, Wyl felt true unadulterated fear for the first time in his life. It was not a feeling he welcomed or was to know for long.
With teeth that were far too large and paws that held him immobile to the ground, Wyl looked into the face of death itself in his last moments in the world. Then he felt those teeth tear into his neck and rip his head from his shoulders. His last thought was that the thing in front of him looked much like a wolf only bigger and far more deadly.
Prince Nymor Martell.
Darkness was not his friend. Though he welcomed it more than the light that the dragon's flames had brought to the cave he'd hidden in. Nymor had believed he'd be safe there. That he'd managed to escape the fate of those who'd ridden with him. Other than Wyl, he believed he'd seen all of them fall. Some of them were lucky enough to turn to ash as the dragon's flames caught them fully while others cried out in agony during their last few moments in this world.
Nymor had done as his friend had bid. He'd ridden away not in cowardice but with a sense of self-preservation. His mother would need him in the days, weeks, and moons to come. Dorne would need him. So he'd left the men behind other than for two of his guards and they'd made their way to the caves. Only Nymor out of the three of them was alive when they reached them.
The green dragon had finished its deadly work. It and its three fellow dragons had broken their army in the Prince's Pass. Then it alone had come after him. For Nymor was in no doubt that he was the prize the green dragon and its rider sought. He had just hoped he could make it so difficult for them both that they'd seek a different prize instead. Much to his dismay, he'd found they sought but the one and that a cave was no place to hide from a dragon.
"You should come out from where you're hiding, Prince Nymor." A voice echoed around the cave.
"The day is lost and all that is left is to decide to see the morrow."
"Your men are dead and help is not coming, no matter how long you wait for it."
Be it the cave, his nerves, or something else, Nymor felt the voice was everywhere and nowhere. He'd backed further away from where he'd thought it was coming from and found only more and more darkness. It should have comforted him. The mere fact that Nymor couldn't see the man who moved his way and sought him out, should have comforted him. Yet it did not. While Nymor couldn't see more than an inch or two in front of his face, a part of him feared that the dragon could. He feared that the darkness was not and had never been his friend.
"I met a woman once. She was oft heard to say that the night was dark and full of terrors." the voice said, laughing as it spoke.
"In this, she was proved very true for at the end it truly was as she had said."
"Yet, there was some comfort in the darkness too for a while. Some respite to be found."
Again the voice sounded close and far at the same time and Nymor took his dagger in his hand and held it out in front of him.
"It allowed for mine eyes to get used to the dark. To see more than they should."
"It's funny, I've been in the light so long now I believed I'd need time to readjust."
"I don't."
Nymor felt the crash of something against his head and fell unconscious to the ground. He'd not even heard the footsteps of his captor as he inched ever closer to him. Instead, like a fool, he'd concentrated on the voice and the words that were spoken.
When he awoke, he was chained hand and foot to a large metal bar in what looked to be a ship's cabin. It took some time for his eyes to readjust and for the desperation of his situation to be made clear to him. The very last thing he wished for, or at least the second last, had occurred. Nymor Martell was a prisoner and he would be used to bring his mother and Dorne to their knees. It made him weep some. Made him curse himself for not simply taking the poison when he could. His mother would have done so. As too would his daughter. Nymor though believed he had to live. When in truth, his death would have been what served Dorne best.
"Ah good, you're awake." The voice from the cave called out and Nymor looked around the room to see the man sitting on the floor next to what looked like a giant white blanket.
As Nymor looked on, the blanket moved and showed itself to be a giant dog of some sort. Then the man rose to his feet and together he and the dog, no, not a dog, a wolf of some incredible size, both moved toward him. Which of them made him more fearful, Nymor couldn't truly say. The giant wolf was almost as tall as the man and its red eyes were the color of blood. While the man was clearly a warrior given his stance. Those dark grey eyes showed little mercy as they looked his way. So was he to toss a coin and wager, then Nymor would name the man the truer threat. Not that he'd like to take his chances with the white wolf either.
"Your army was broken, Prince Nymor. Lord Wyl of Wyl, well he found my friend here to be more than a match for him. Did he not Ghost?" the man said as he rubbed his hand softly across the top of the wolf's head.
"I'll not kneel and nor will my mother," he said defiantly.
"How many are in your House, Prince Nymor? Three is it not?" the man said and Nymor didn't notice how his head nodded his agreement "Three deaths and House Martell is no more. A line that stretches back to Prince Nymeria herself would be wiped from the world in the blink of an eye." the man said, his grey eyes showing a fire that sent a shiver down through Nymor's body "Or with the click of my fingers." the man clicked his fingers and Nymor gulped.
"You dare not."
"To dare is to do, Prince Nymor. It would behoove you to remember that my family and I are dragons. We dare to soar to the skies and name our kin as our wives, why would we not dare to do anything else that we wished."
Nymor looked at the man more closely. His long dark hair was loose and fell across his shoulder. His features showed him to be less than half Nymor's age. While his eyes showed enough in them to tell him that he'd lived through horrors and mayhap had inflicted many himself. This was not a man to be taken lightly. Not that Nymor truly was or was even in a position to do so.
"Your mother awaits us at Sunspear. While your daughter, Deria, marches and seeks refuge in the mountains with some of the nobler of your ladies and lords." the man said and Nymor gulped "Do you believe she'll find the mountains any safer than you did? Do you think she can hide from my family and from me?"
"I…."
"Three lives and your House is ended, Prince Nymor. Knowing that I know that, how much else do you think I know? How many other lives do you think I need to take before every noble House in Dorne is no more? Can they hide from me? Do you believe they'll be luckier than you?"
"I…"
"You will bend and you will bow or before I'm done with Dorne, you and it will be broken. Tell me Prince Nymor. Do I speak the truth?"
With that, the man and the wolf turned and walked away and Nymor sagged in his chains. They'd expected the threat to come from the sky. For the dragons to be who they needed to avoid. When all the time it was their riders that they should have truly feared. Especially the dark-haired monster who rode the green dragon and whose eyes showed no mercy or kindness at all.
Planky Town and Sunspear 1 BC.
Orys Baratheon.
While the dragons went about carrying out one part of Aemon's plan, Orys, and Daemon Velaryon went about the other. They knew full well that their ships had been spotted by now. All the times that Aegon's flagship had dropped anchor so that he and Rhaenys could go ashore or Orys' own did so in order for all four Targaryens to be rowed to his own flagship would see to that. Ravens would no doubt have been sent and yet neither Orys nor Daemon felt as if they were any true danger on the sea.
Dorne had no true fleet. Some merchant ships carried their trade to and from Essos and the other six kingdoms and that was pretty much that. In Gulltown, Daemon had faced a far truer threat from the Vale's fleet and while there he'd had two dragons to call upon for aid, Orys knew that should things actually turn against them here, they'd have four. One look at the eagle that roosted atop the tallest mast was proof enough of that.
Warging, it was a strange and still unknown thing to Orys. He understood it not, other than the benefits it brought them in battle. Aemon would look through Ghost's eyes, through the eyes of birds and smaller animals and distance was no barrier to what he could see through them. Orys would wager that the nearer they got to their targets, were he to climb that mast and look into the raven's eyes then he'd see they were as white as Ghost's fur. Taking some little comfort in that fact, he made his way to the cabin to speak to Argella regarding their plans.
"You won't be leaving the ship?" his wife asked, her eyes bidding him to confirm what he'd already told her each night that they sailed.
"No, here it's to be Daemon who brings our terms to the elders of the city and to the Lord of Lemonwood."
"And our terms are?" Argella asked, though his wife knew them well.
"Surrender and test us not lest you feel the flames for doing so," Orys said firmly.
"Sunspear, Orys. You truly have to be the one?"
"Aegon will land there, Argella. He, Rhaenys, Visenya and Aemon, and a large number of our men. They and the dragons will descend upon that city and they'll have my sword to shield their backs while they do so."
"Be careful…I…"
Orys moved to his wife, his arms going around her and pulling her tightly toward him. He whispered in her ear as he stroked her black hair. Waiting for her to be still and calm, Orys kissed her once she did so and then promised her that he'd be as careful as he had been up to now. That he would leave Sunspear unharmed and untouched. More quickly than had on the few other occasions that his wife had shown such worries for him, Argella composed herself and was soon back to the vivacious and charming woman he'd fallen for.
He'd have preferred to stay with her in the cabin for longer, only for the knock at the door to signal that Planky Town was in sight. For his duty to come and now demand his attention. To his great delight, Argella wished to see the largest of the Dornish cities herself and so she joined him when he walked from the cabin to the deck of the ship. A quick look to see that Daemon's ship along with four others had moved even closer to the shore than Orys' own was enough to tell him that it had already begun.
"Is that truly a city?" Argella asked while shaking her head.
"I believe so," he replied, though as he himself got his first look at what they'd come to conquer, he found it most disappointing.
Planky Town was a series of ships, boats, and barges. All were tied together to keep them stable and secure and planks of wood were laid down between the boats to form streets. Some houses, halls, and shops were built directly on a few of these so-called streets. Most, however, were strange structures formed out of what were or had once been a boat, ship, or barge. The largest of these structures was more than two or three ships of the size of Orys' flagship.
In one way it was an ingenious construction. Yet in another, it was a sign of just how ill-suited the lands of Dorne must be for settlements. Looking at the city and seeing just how many people lived there, Orys shuddered to think what would happen should they dare resist. Today they'd just be given fair warning, but should they be forced to bring the fire to them, then it wouldn't even need the dragons to do so. Orys himself with no more than a hundred men could see this city in flames. A half a dozen fire ships and Planky Town would be no more. Taking the Myrish Eye when Argella offered it to him, Orys looked to see the group of men who greeted Daemon as he landed.
"Do you think they'll fight?" Argella asked as he looked at Daemon handing the man the two letters and pointing back at their ships.
"No," he said confidently.
Orys could see the men were trying to look brave, but these were no fighting men. True, any man could be if given a reason to pick up arms. Yet Orys knew there was a huge difference between a man forced to fight and one who was trained to do so. In less than an hour, Daemon was back on his own flagship and it and the four others set sail immediately. Turning the Myrish Eye to Daemon's ship, Orys chuckled when he saw the first mate wave the white flag from side to side. As he'd expected, there had been no resistance offered by the men Daemon had met with. It didn't mean they'd not face some but it wouldn't just be the ships they'd leave behind here that they'd use to reinforce their message. All four dragons would fly over this city before they rejoined them once more and while their flames would only be loosed upon the sky, the threat itself would be made very clear.
A few days later.
They'd left a dozen ships to strangle the trade between Planky Town and Essos. No ship would enter or leave the harbor unless they had their permission to do so. Food and supplies for Dorne would be confiscated while ships sailing to Essos would only be allowed to do so if they were truly Essossi. Each captain would allow their men to search their holds or be denied leave to pass their blockade. While any found to be in league with the Dornish and working against House Targaryen's interests would find they were not very forgiving.
In truth, it would be what they did in Sunspear that would decide how long they needed to make the people of Planky Town and Dorne itself suffer. Should they be forced to, then the plans Aemon had for them would be enough to bring them to their knees, of that, Orys had no doubt. The only true question was how many would lose their lives before then. Well, that and just how proud their princess was.
Armed and armored. All four dragons having rejoined them and all four riders unharmed, Orys stood on the deck of Daemon's flagship and awaited it to dock. Further out into the bay, his own flagship was surrounded by a dozen of their ships. Atop the mast, Aemon's eagle watched and waited and the man himself had promised him that at the first sign of trouble or danger, Rhaegal would see to Argella's safety. It had been a promise he'd been most grateful for and one that Aemon had given without any request from Orys.
As The Seahorse docked, Orys nodded to his men and a hundred men at arms marched down the gangplank and onto the docks. Above his head, Rhaegal and Vhagar had dropped low enough for Orys to see their riders and both dragons now roared loudly. Yet it seemed there was no need for them to offer any warning or to provide Orys and his men with a dragon's protection. No men at arms moved their way and if anything, there were few men even in sight. Other than those who'd seen far too many summers or those who'd seen far too few.
"Secure the docks!" he ordered, his men moving to do as he bid.
For the next three hours, close to two thousand men at arms had landed and begun to march through the city. Looking to rooftops and doorways, Orys waited for the ambushes to come and yet none did. They faced nothing more dangerous than angered stares and disdainful looks. No one tried to hinder their progress and other than for a cat that broke some pottery as it was startled, they barely saw any living thing during their march.
Orys knew they were there. He'd seen some of them at the docks and was sure that he'd seen shadows at the windows. Sunspear wasn't deserted, not by a long shot. It was however deserted of fighting men or at least it seemed to be. As they neared the Old Palace, Orys felt some worries and doubts creep in. it had been too easy. Even though Aemon had explained much about the tactics that Princess Meria and the Dornish had used, it was too easy. He was about to order men to check through the buildings when he caught sight of the white fur of Ghost. The white wolf running his way and doing so without a single care in the world.
"All is well?" he asked the wolf when it reached him, something that had someone told him he'd do but a year or more ago, would have earned them his truest laugh as he named them fools. Now, Ghost simply licked his hand and Orys felt those little worries and doubts fade away.
As one, all four dragons landed and then a lone man walked out from the gates of the Old Palace. He bore no arms and in his hand carried a plate of bread and salt. Aegon, Rhaenys, Visenya, and Aemon, who Ghost had run from Orys to join, all moved to stand in front of the man who looked from the dragons to the wolf and finally to the four Targaryens.
"My princess welcomes you to the Old Palace and offers you guest right." the tall dark-haired man said.
"We thank your princess for the welcome. Yet we accept no guest right from those who we trust not," Aegon said.
"Very well, if you'd follow me." the man said shakily.
At Orys' signal, the men he'd marched with now surrounded the city, as all four dragons took to the sky once more. Orys moved forward with fifty men and with a nod from Aegon. As they walked into the Old Palace, Orys looked to Aemon and then to Ghost. How he didn't chuckle when both the man and the wolf shook their heads, he knew not. But he took the signal for what it was. There would be no danger faced here today. Or none at least that Aemon hadn't prepared for.
The Old Palace 1 BC.
Princess Meria Martell.
Other than her closest and yet oldest servants, as well as Maron who'd refused to leave her side, Meria was alone in the Throne Room of the Old Palace. Her army had marched with Deria or with Nymor. Word had gone to the lords and ladies to abandon their keeps. Other than some Small Folk who'd refused to leave their homes or those who were needed to keep the city running somewhat, Sunspear was all but abandoned. Less than a quarter of its usual populace still resided there now. Far too many to lose and yet not a crippling loss should the Targaryens let loose their dragons upon them.
The day she'd dreaded for more than two years had now finally arrived and Meria would need all her resolve for it to not be the last day she knew. Ravens had come from Planky Town and Lemonwood. Both told tales of the fleet that sailed her way and of the monstrous size of the dragons that flew toward her. Maron had calculated that it was no more than ten thousand men the dragons had brought with them. Her most loyal guard had then spoken that they could actually overwhelm them with their own men if they wished to. Meria had simply shaken her head and changed her plans not.
Men were no match for dragons. In a straight-up fight, Dorne would lose. So better they fought the old way. Ambush, laying of traps, and fading back into the deserts and mountains after they'd struck each blow. Death by a thousand cuts was the only way for Dorne to survive a war against Aegon Targaryen. To inflict enough losses upon the man and his allies so that they turned away, but not enough that they sought to destroy. For should they force the dragons away then they'd name it a victory, but that was the only victory that was open to them. They couldn't beat them, not for true. So they'd settle for denying them. The Targaryens hadn't come how Meria had expected though. Her army in the Prince's Pass was obsolete.
'Though at least it still stood' She thought with relief.
Word had been sent to Nymor to hold his position. To make a home amongst the caves and mountains and await further word. The same message that Meria had sent to Deria and those with her granddaughter. Then she'd waited for the fleet to arrive at Sunspear and now, finally, the time was at hand. Sitting atop the Spear Seat, Meria looked out on the empty Throne Room with eyes that were now failing her almost completely. Shadows were in truth all she saw and there were now far more of them than she'd expected.
Guards, men at arms. Meria listened to the sound of them taking up their places around the Throne Room and how Maron's breathing became more ragged as they did so. Meria heard the loud gasp from her loyal guard and saw a shadow so large that at first, she believed it to be one of the dragons itself that had somehow landed without her knowledge. Maron's words named it a wolf rather than a dragon. Yet its size was that of no wolf that Meria had ever heard or even read about.
"Ghost to me." a voice called out, young and not at the same time. Then through half-blind eyes, Meria saw three sets of silver-haired shadows and one that was as dark as night.
"Princess Meria of Dorne welcomes you to the Old Palace. Yet she wonders why you've come with such a force of men and what your plans are regarding them." "Maron said firmly.
"Why Conquest of course." a man answered, Aegon she'd wager.
"Dorne is a free land, we seek no part in your Conquest, Aegon Targaryen." Meria declared.
"Those being conquered rarely do, Princess Meria. Yet the Conqueror has arrived all the same." A woman, Rhaenys she believed, said loudly.
"Kneel, name my brother as your king. Pledge your fealty to House Targaryen and be welcomed into the Seven Kingdoms as our loyal and true friend." a different woman said, Visenya or so Meria believed.
"Or deny us and name yourself our enemy." the dark-haired shadow said "And find out what that leads to," he added as he rubbed his hand through the wolf's fur, or so Meria thought as she could not truly see it.
"I will not fight you, nor will I kneel to you. Dorne has no king, Aegon Targaryen."
"Then you leave us but little choice other than Fire and Blood."
"Your words. Ours are Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. You may burn us, but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here, stay at your peril." she said, rising from her seat.
"Aemon," Aegon said and the dark-haired shadow moved forward.
He came so close to her that Maron made a move for his sword only to be knocked to the ground by the wolf.
"I seek not to harm your princess with actions, not when my words will affect her far more." the dark-haired shadow, Aemon Targaryen, the unknown member of House Targaryen as of up to a year or more ago, said as he moved to the steps that led to where Meria stood.
"Let my guard up and speak your words, Targaryen," she said, trying to sound more in control than she felt. Something about the man moving toward her had sent a shiver down her spine and she knew not what that was. Though she was about to find out.
"Ghost." Aemon said and the wolf moved, Meria listened as Maron stood up and she needed no eyes to see or to know that he glared at the man who now stood in front of her "I've fought more battles than I care to count. Fought against foes the likes of you wouldn't believe, princess. So when my king bid me to help plan our taking of Dorne, he did so with the confidence that I'd see him do just that."
"Then your king and you are both fools," she said, feigning bravery that was failing her.
"Your army in the Prince's Pass. They march no more, princess. Wyl of the Wyl, would you like to know his last words when my wolf took him from this world?" Aemon said and Meria somehow hid her emotions and worries for Nymor as Aemon chuckled "Mayhap not. Would you instead prefer to know the words I spoke to your son when I took him, prisoner?"
Meria did gulp this time. She heard a loud gasp from Maron and the sound of something being thrown on the ground. Turning from the man in front of her, Meria looked to Maron and awaited the terrible news.
"Nymor's helm and breastplate, my princess," Maron said.
"My son lives?" she asked turning back to face Aemon Targaryen.
"For now," Aemon replied.
"You think threatening his life will bring me to my knees? Do you know me not?"
"Oh, I know you well enough, princess. As I said, do you wish to know the words I spoke to your son?" Aemon asked and Meria nodded "Three."
"Three?" she asked, confused.
"Meria, Nymor, and Deria Martell. Three lives to end Nymeria's line. Five lives to end House Yronwood, four for House Dayne." on and on Aemon went and Meria felt her leg begin to shake although she knew she could not show just how affected she was by the words.
"Nymor and I are in your power to end, I'll grant you that. Yet Deria is….
"Huddled in a cave no more than fifty miles from here along with the largest part of your army and far too many of your most noble lords and ladies. In the mountains further east, most of the families of the largest Houses of Dorne think themselves safe from a dragon's flames. Were my king but to bid it of me, I'd show them they are very much not."
"You lie," Maron said and though she didn't see it, Aemon closed his eyes but for a moment.
"She holds onto the necklace you gave her. Her fingers softly stroke the snake and rub over its garnet eyes. It makes her think of you, of the times you spent together. Allows for her to imagine she's still with you rather than endure the fact that you're parted and she knows not your fate." Aemon said and Meria had she a knife would have stabbed him in his black heart with it. Or tried to at least.
"While Aemon is set to bring your granddaughter and those with her to their knees. Me, my brother and my sister will take our dragons and burn every single crop that grows in these inhospitable lands. we'll scorch the earth until not a single blade of grass will ever grow again. We'll set out men to pollute and poison every well, river, or drop of water we can find. Our ships and our dragons will ensure that not even a single ounce of grain is landed upon your shores." Visenya Targaryen said.
"Every man, woman, and child that we come across when they beg us to feed them or give them a drop of water to drink, will then be loaded on our ships and taken to Essos. There they will be sold into slavery never to be heard from again." Rhaenys said.
"Or you can reconsider your earlier words, Princess Meria. We can forget and forgive how they were spoken and Dorne can and will be welcomed into my embrace with open arms. Subjugation is not what I offer you. "Aegon said.
"We offer you but two choices, Princess. Death or Life." Aemon said and Meria for as much as she wished to choose the one, found herself damnably close to accepting the other.
Dorne 1 BC.
Aemon Targaryen.
As a boy, it had always been Daeron the Young Dragon that Aemon had idolized. The boy king who'd conquered Dorne at the age of four and ten and who in some small fashion, Aemon's own path bid him follow when he too was named a king. With Maester Luwin's help and guidance, Aemon had read the books on Daeron's Conquest and through them had learned more about Aegon's failed one than even in books more dedicated to the Conqueror himself.
Aemon had read how Daeron had learned from Aegon's mistakes. How he'd planned and plotted his conquest and then prepared for it. Then in less than a year, Daeron Targaryen, the Young Dragon, had done what no man before him or after him had ever managed to do. Yet even amongst the incredible success, there had been a monumental failure. Firstly by placing men not of Dorne in positions to oversee it once it was conquered. Later in treating with men and women who would and should not have been trusted.
So, Aemon had taken all that on board and adapted Daeron's plans to fit his own. Armies who marched could be ambushed, so they'd not march. Fighting the Dornish with honor and expecting them to fight back the same way, was a fool's game and so it would not be one they'd engage in. Instead, they would show and tell and hope it was enough to stay their hands. For as much as he wished to conquer Dorne and would do whatever it took to achieve that goal, he had no wish to see at least some of the great Houses of Dorne brought to their end.
House Dayne was a good and true House and while they'd like most other Houses in Westeros had done dishonorable things in their past, or now their future, at times even Aemon wasn't sure which was which, they'd done far more honorable things too. Not to mention that the thoughts of Ser Arthur Dayne and his nephew Ned were never far from Aemon's mind. As for House Martell, without them, there would be no Rhaenys and no Aegon There would be no Elia. While Aemon had never gotten the chance to know his brother, sister, or their mother, he'd not deny the world the chance to see them live for true. Oberyn too was someone that he'd much liked in his own time. Both the prince and his bastard daughters deserved a chance to exist in the world that Aemon hoped to build. So he'd not seek their ends if he could avoid it. Something which had influenced his plans greatly.
"That sounds too much, Aemon, even for me. You'd have us sell people into slavery." Aegon said aghast after Aemon had finished detailing the threats they would make to Princess Meria.
"They must believe it, your grace. Let them think us the worst of monsters so that in turn we're not forced to become them for true." Aemon said as Orys, Argella, Aegon, Rhaenys and Visenya looked on "That man Ghost killed in the mountains, Wyl of the Wyl, you wish to know why I saw to his death rather than take him, prisoner, as I did with Prince Nymor?"
"I thought he'd left you with no choice," Visenya said and Aemon shook his head.
"There are always choices, Senya." he said, looking at her before turning to the others "He was known as the Widow Lover. A name he garnered from an act that took place at Fawnton."
"Fawnton, that's the seat of House Caffren," Argella said, and Aemon looked at her.
"The heir, my lady, what is House Caffren's heir's name?" he asked.
"Jon, Aemon. A young lad of seven Namedays."
"In about twelve years from now, that lad will be due to wed a lady from House Oakheart. The wedding will be held at Fawnton and Wyl of the Wyl, was to live still, would march his men and turn up uninvited. How he entered the keep I know not. What he and his men do, well even as a boy I was denied leave to read it. It was Prince Oberyn himself who told me the tale when we spoke on Dorne's fractious history with the Stormlands."
"What did he do, Aemon?" Rhaenys asked.
"He and his men killed Lord Caffren. They castrated Jon Caffren on his wedding day and then Wyl and his men raped his bride and her handmaids before selling them off to a Myrish Slaver."
"The Widow Lover." Orys spat.
"This is what Dorne is capable of, your grace. I could recite a hundred such acts and tales and not even come close to telling all of them. There is but one way to deal with men who'd be monsters, your grace."
"To be bigger monsters than they are," Aegon said, not best pleased at the thought.
"To make them believe you can be," Aemon said to nods of heads, some more firm than others.
Why he'd decided to keep what Wyl had done to Orys from them, he knew not. Mayhap he wished to keep the man's temper in check until it needed to be released. Or mayhap it was simply that by killing the man, he'd stopped those actions from ever taking place. In the end, it made no difference. The plans and words that he'd bid Aegon and the others to speak were the ones they held to. In the Throne Room of Sunspear, Aegon, Rhaenys, Visenya, and Aemon himself waved as big a stick as they possibly could. Now it was time for the carrot to go with that stick. So Aemon moved away from a woman who glared at him through half-blind yet hate-filled eyes and a man who'd stab him in the heart was he but given the chance.
"What are your terms, King Aegon?" Princess Meria asked, sounding almost broken as she spoke.
"We'll not seek to place a man above you, princess. Nor seek to impose direct rule over Dorne. As with the rest of the kingdoms sworn to us, Dorne will be run almost as it always has. Taxes will be paid and should we call, then Dornish Spears will be required to march. In time we'll seek even closer bonds, be it a place on our Small Council or mayhap one day through marriages and such. For now, we require but three things."
"Which are."
"That you and your lords sign an agreement naming Aegon Targaryen as your king and in doing so you bring Dorne under our banner," Rhaenys said.
"That all incursions by Dorne into the Stormlands or attacks on the Marcher Lords are to immediately cease. As will any incursion into any of the Seven Kingdoms." Visenya said.
"Finally, your armies, Lords, Ladies, and their Households are called back immediately so that they can officially swear their fealty one by one. Each House, Princess, each and every House is to kneel before me and name me their king before I leave Dorne."
"And should one not do so, King Aegon? Should one refuse to do so?"
"Aemon."
"Then the threats we made regarding Dorne itself will be visited upon that Lord, Lady or House, Princess. I will take my dragon and my wolf and together we will fly from Sunspear. I'll not return until every last man, woman, and child of that House or those under its protection have suffered greatly because of it. I'll end their line, princess. Then I'll scour their lands until it is bereft of life. By the time I'm done, a great House will be no more and tales of those who served it will be thought of as myth and legend for there will be none who breathe who'll be able to confirm them as true." Aemon said, his voice calm and the threat real, or as real as he needed it to be.
"I'll send the ravens, King Aegon. Until they're answered you're welcome to any room you wish in the Old Palace and I'll see that refreshments are brought to you."
"We'll remain on our ships, Princess," Aegon said.
"My son. May I see him?" the princess asked.
"Prince Nymor will be released into your care, Princess. Though I do so with but one warning." Aegon said looking to Aemon "As my Goodbrother had already made clear, three is all it takes. Should you see our return of your son as an excuse to deny our terms or try to have him, you, or both of you, just slip away and seek the solace of the mountains or elsewhere, then Aemon will be given leave to end your House and to do so with haste. There is no place you can hide from us, princess. No place in Dorne we would not find you. So to run is to bring the doom upon your House and that doom will be visited upon you with fire and blood."
"Understood, King Aegon."
"Then we shall take our leave. Send your raven's princess. The quicker your vassals return the sooner my family, army, and our dragons will seek to leave Dorne."
Aemon looked at the guard and the princess. He watched how they spoke to each other as Aegon, Rhaenys, and Orys moved to leave the Throne Room. With a last look and a nod to Ghost, he then moved to Visenya and they followed after the others. No words were spoken, not then. They simply walked from the Old Palace and back to their horses, mounted up, and then rode to the docks before boarding boats to take them to their ships.
Arriving at Aegon's flagship, they made their way on board and Orys moved to the first mate so he could signal Argella on his own flagship. Aegon and Rhaenys walked down to the largest cabin and he and Visenya soon joined them. Each of them enjoyed a glass of wine as they then waited for Orys to finish signaling Argella and make his way to the cabin too. Once he had, he too welcomed the offered glass of wine and Aegon looked to each of them before speaking more to Aemon than anyone else.
"That went well I think. Aemon?"
"The message was heard, both sides of it, your grace. I believe the princess was shocked by what I said regarding her granddaughter."
"You think she'd have given her own life and that of her son's rather than kneeling, don't you Aemon?" Visenya asked.
"I do. Pride can be a powerful motivator. I told you all about the Free Folk, about how they were oft heard to say that they do not kneel." Aemon said and Visenya nodded for the others "It took an army of dead men to get them to truly name me their king. Which thankfully we don't need to worry about for now at least." he said to some small laughs "Other than that, they'd not have done so even at the cost of their lives. Dorne and the North I think can be much the same in that regard."
"Torrhen knelt, Aemon," Rhaenys said.
"Torrhen was wiser than most, my queen," he replied.
"So you think it's not all settled yet?" Aegon asked.
"I fear we'll have to make an example of at least one Great House before it is, your grace. I would recommend that when we get them to kneel and name you their king, we do it where we can control it."
"You don't mean it to be done in the Old Palace?" Orys asked.
"That's the last place I'd see it done. Out in the open, with two dragons on the ground and two in the sky and surrounded by our men. I'll see each and every man and woman are unarmed and that none carry poison. Daeron was killed at a parley, your grace. When next you meet them they'll do so on our terms and our terms alone."
"As you say, Aemon. Now, forgive me, but I'm famished. Orys will you be staying?" Rhaenys said
"No, I'll take a boat and join Argella."
"Aemon, Senya?"
"We'll sleep with the dragons," Visenya said and Aemon nodded.
"Then until the morn," Aegon said as they then said their goodnights.
While Orys was rowed one way, Aemon and Visenya along with Ghost went the other. Soon they were flying over the city seeking out a peaceful place where they could rest for the night. After they'd landed, Aemon cooked them their meal and once the dragons and Ghost had fed, they settled down for the night. The desert air was cool but the warmth from Rhaegal and Vhagar meant that they didn't truly notice it. Added to their intense coupling, they were both truly in need of sleep when they finally lay down for the night.
It was when he woke the next morning that Aemon began to worry. Visenya wasn't beside him and only that the dragons were both calm and Ghost was nowhere in sight, or his worry may have turned to panic. When he eventually found his wife, it was clear she had lost the contents of her stomach once more. Visenya sat on a rock with Ghost resting his head on her stomach and an odd look on her face. Moving to her, Aemon was stunned to see the true smile she wore upon seeing him. Her eyes were puffy and red, her hair was disheveled showing she'd been sick and yet his wife was beaming.
"Senya?"
"Aemon I…I believe I'm with child." Visenya said happily as she looked at him and the smile he now wore "It pleases you?"
"More than anything in the world, my love, truly," he said as he knelt in front of her and took her hands in his.
Aemon kissed her softly and looked to where Ghost's head lay protectively close to their babe. He saw it in his wolf's red eyes and it was a feeling he shared completely. Whatever it took. No matter what it required of him. If he had to burn Dorne and the rest of Westeros to the ground, he'd protect his wife and the babe she carried. Nothing or no one would take either of them away from him. Not men, not monsters, and not even the very gods themselves.
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next, Dorne pushes back and a message needs to be sent forcing Aemon to become someone he wishes not to be. The truth about Visenya's condition is revealed and in Sunspear, a swearing of fealty takes place. While Beyond the Wall, Brandon has to prove himself and he and Jojen Reed meet Children of Legend and a Raven in a Tree.
For those following my other fics, Dark Prince and Live as a Dragon are up next followed, hopefully by Dragonwolf Danced.
Daryl Dixon: We'll see.
Lord of Erebor: I was going for more LOTR.
Barly: That's sort of the mentality I was going for with him. He obviously hasn't got Daemon's roguishness but the love of family and House first philosophy is there.
IrshHermit: Yes it was. There was a Maesters Conspiracy that played out all through House Targs rule and Aemon is aware of it in his own time, so it influences him here. But he's willing to give them and almost everyone one chance before going full ruthless on them, most of them anyway.
I sort of like to go that the Faith had their own little conspiracy going on, Alicent is a good way of looking at it. There was also Maegor marrying a Hightower too and him and the Faith having issues because of it. So if House Hightower was with anyone, I'd say it was the Faith.
I hope you like how so far Aemon has gone about making those two incidents not happen. For all the talk about the North, the IB almost conquered it, had they more men, they would have. I'm talking during the WOTFK here. Yes, its terrain and Dorne's are harsh, but Daeron still conquered Dorne, despite how it ended. You just have to be more ruthless than they and knowing certain things obviously helps greatly.
Visenya is certainly pregnant, yes.
Rhatch: So glad you liked it.
Princess of Greenwood: Really glad you enjoyed it.
Dunk: Visenya's obsession with books is a key part of things, we'll see that play out much later on. As for Brandon, No, I'll be showing some of the events beyond the Wall before the jump. I considered ending the Greyjoys, but as I looked through the history, they were relatively stable up to Balon. They sort of lived to the oath they swore and at least their betrayal is somewhat predictable. Where putting someone else in this early, could lead to too many ripples and unforeseen events as far as Aemon is concerned.
Honestly, the way I looked at it was that Aemon would have ended them was this later in the timeline.
BrieNer: Me alegro de que te haya gustado la parte de Brandon, hay algo de movimiento en el próximo capítulo, y en el capítulo siguiente, veremos algunas de sus aventuras.
Syrius: Orys is loyal to Aegon and House Targaryen and so once he's seen that with Aemon and also once he's seen he's not getting replaced by him, it's allowed for him to come around.
Celexys: So very glad you're liking how things are going.
Jase13: Me alegra que te gusten juntos y la historia en general. Sí, Visenya está embarazada, bien vista.
Creativo: Exactamente. Esa es la clave, Dorne no se enfrenta a Aegon o incluso a Daeron, se enfrenta a Aemon. No solo sabe qué errores cometieron sus antepasados, sino que también le han contado cosas de otros. Como aprender de Oberyn/Doran/Ned/Jaime e incluso de NK también.