A/N: Sunday is here! Looking forward to your feedback! The more reviews each chapter gets, the more inspired/faster I am to update!
Appreciate you all!
Many thanks to newboy (a reviewer) for offering up a font of idea to use in the reviews. They all sound wonderful, and I'll be sure to use them! You rock!
I really, truly, want each chapter of this story to feel like an actual House of the Dragon episode on all fronts. Hopefully I succeeded.
As ever, I own no references, quotes, themes or memes. They're tributes to legends far greater than little 'ol me.
I'm just a humble author trying to make his way in this wild world, one word at a time.
Time and feedback determine the update speed of this story. Simple as that.
In other words...its up to YOU, the reader. Do let me know~!
Here we go. This chapter goes right for the feels.
This IS Game of Thrones...
Away we go~!
"The idea that we Targaryens control the dragons...is an illusion; in truth, they are a power our ancestors never should have trifled with.
Yet without them, our reign would undoubtedly buckle beneath its own weight. We need them. As they need us.
Promise me you won't let the dragons die out, Rhaenyra. Promise me.
~?
The Dragon Has Many Heads
"This is delightful!"
Aemma wasn't angry when she heard the news; how could she be? On the contrary she was anything but aggravated. Delighted! Excited! Surprised! So many fancy words slipped through her mind as she crooned over her dazed daughter, now reclining before her upon a lounge of red cushions.
"Mother please," her eldest child squirmed in place as she fussed over her, to no avail. "You're embarrassing me...and why aren't you angry?"
Angry? Why would she be angry! She was going to be a grandmother! She must tell everyone!
No, wait. She really shouldn't; Otto Hightower mustn't learn of this. Blast it all.
"You could never make me angry, dear girl." Willfully, she forced herself to focus on happier things. "You're getting married soon and already you've made me a grandmother." She was babbling now, she knew but she just couldn't stop herself. "Did you plan for this? If so, you have impeccable timing."
Her expression said otherwise. Not planned, then. Good to know.
Credit where credit was due, Naruto and Rhaenyra had come racing back the moment they learned the news -how wonderful that they'd brought it to her first!- pausing only to make sure Caraxes, Dreamfyre and Syrax were well tended to before returning. To hells with the dragons! This was much more important! To be a grandmother already and at such a young age. There could be no greater blessing.
"When did you realize you were with child?" she asked. "Have your courses stopped?"
Rhaenyra flushed, bless her fierce little heart. "You mean my bleeding?"
Naruto had been hovering at Rhaenyra's elbow for some time now, silent as the grave -good boy, he'd make a fine father- but at this turn of topic his whiskered visage became distinctly grey. "I should go...
Her daughter rounded on him. "You stay right there! If I must endure this torment, so too shall you!"
"Aw, c'mon, have mercy...
"You're the one that put a babe in my belly." She tucked a stray strand of silver hair behind one ear. "You should be grateful I haven't thumped you upside the head."
"Huh." Aemma knew the brilliant blond wasn't one to let a jab like that pass him by, and he didn't disappoint her. "That's funny, you seem to enjoy being thumped an awful lot in the bedroom...
Rhaenyra choked on her spit; had Alicent been conscious, she might've spat out her wine. Alas, the poor girl was quite unconscious at the moment; she'd fainted the moment those two delivered the good news. Now that promised to be an illuminating conversation when the poor girl awakened. But onto more exciting matters.
"Why you...!"
"Cheeky little dragon!"
Red-faced, she winged a pillow at him. "Feisty fox!"
Aemma scarcely heard either of their bickering, she was too busy pressing an ear to her daughter's stomach; which ironically put a stop to that very argument before it could escalate beyond thrown pillows. No kicking yet, the babe was still early, but as she ran her hands over her torso she couldn't miss the telltale bump there. They'd need to a find a -loyal!- maester to confirm it, but if her suspicions were correct, she'd been holding this child for a least a moon's turn, now.
A small, girlish voice squealed in the back of her head. 'Eeeeeeeeee!'
"Just wait until your grandsire learns of you, little one. He'll be head over heels...
"That's quite enough!"
Rhaenyra flailed her hands to shoo her away and undaunted, the queen scooped up Visenya from her cradle to presented her unto her sister.
"Say hello to your nephew, dear girl."
Rhaenyra lifted her chin just so, slightly indignant. "Or her niece."
"Yours will be a boy." she crooned indulgently. "I have a feeling. Have you thought of names?"
Naruto laughed into a fist. Rhaenyra turned a baleful glare upon him and said laugh dissolved into a cough.
"We did, but...
Her daughter tossed her head imperiously. "I wish for our first child to have a memorable name. Not offense meant toward tradition, but so many of our own are simply variations of one another, or the second of his name, and so on."
Intriguing, but not unexpected. "Did you settle upon one?"
"A few actually," Her daughter preened, proud as a peacock, but nervous, secretly craving her approval. "You may dislike some of them...
"Will I, now? I shall be the judge of that." She sat briskly beside her and took her hands in her own. "Tell me."
Rhaenyra spoke quickly. "For the firstborn, we were debating Jacaerys or Tywin."
Aemma considered the latter for a moment.
Tywin Targaryen. A good name. A strong name. A legendary name. Unconventional to be sure and certain to kick up a fuss amongst the Lannisters, but honestly, screw the Lannisters. Ruthless debt-mongering bastards. It was their own bloody fault for not naming someone sooner.
"And if a girl comes along, we wished to name her Helaena."
"Your father will be delighted. Here." she handed little Visenya off to Naruto, who sputtered for a moment before accepting her. "Best get some practice in while you can."
Bayle creaked an eye open where he lay, huffed once, and went back to sleep. The goodest of boys indeed.
"Now, then," she steepled her fingers and looked to them intently, "When did this happen?
"I only suspected it recently myself." Rhaenyra replied, idly touch a hand to her stomach. "Dreamfyre confirmed it."
Aemma didn't bother to hide her smile this time. "Perhaps you carry her future rider in your belly. Or mayhaps that of Vhagar." It would certainly explain why the hoary old lizard was so keen to follow her dear daughter around like a lost puppy. "Still, I'm not surprised this happened. You've been at it like rabbits and with no moon tea besides."
Naruto's entire face burned red as he tucked his chin into his chest.
By comparison, Rhaenyra's own protest proved far more vocal. "Mother!"
"Be honest with yourself, dear girl." she traced a finger across her stomach. "be doubly thankful your wedding takes place in less than a fortnight, not nine months, else you might be accused of having a bastard."
Her daughter's face closed down, a hint of fire flickering in her lively lilac eyes as she absolutely hissed. "I will have no child of mine called such."
"Why would they be called a bastard?" Naruto made a confused noise, undaunted as Visenya yanked on his hair. "Where I come from, a child is a child, regardless of their parents." She didn't miss the protective way in which he held her dear daughter; in that instant she knew this boy would go to hell and back for his children. "Kids are kids; the fault shouldn't lie with them."
Visenya unknowingly burbled her agreement to that effect, drawing a grin from him.
"Ha!" a grin split his face as crowed in triumph. "She gets it. Don't, you Visenya?" he tickled her, drawing a delighted noise from little Targaryen.
How gentle his homeland sounded...and how little she knew of it. Aemma flicked him a pitying glance to mollify him. "Would that things were so simple here. Nevertheless, we mustn't move up the wedding date. To do so now would show weakness or worse, imply haste, and that alone will give many reason to suspect something is amiss."
"So we must wait, then." her daughter crossed both arms before her bosom. "I'd rather have the whole wedding done and over with."
Aemma smiled softly. "I know, dear girl. You do realize you'll have to wear a dress, don't you?"
Her dear daughter blanched. "...must I?"
A pale brow rose. "Did you intend to wear a tunic and breeches to your wedding?"
"Maybe...?"
"Absolutely not!"
Rhaenyra gagged, failing to notice Naruto's sudden interest in the topic.
Aemma did not. "And you, dear boy, will have to wear something besides armor."
The whiskered warrior looked like he'd just been stabbed. "Do I gotta?"
"Yes, you must," she chided him ever so gently. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll look wonderful. Viserys will see to it...perhaps after he has a rather long chat with you...
Naruto gulped, but the mention of her father seemed to reactivate Rhaenyra. "Speaking of father, where is he? And where is Daemon hiding, for that matter?"
Aemma smiled, and this time, it was all teeth. "They're enacting the next stage of the plan."
(.0.0.0.)
Hugh Hammer didn't fear dragons.
But not having fear didn't mean you couldn't have respect for what they was. Make no mistake, he knew they was big and tough and ofentimes mean as can be, but they wasn't invincible. At the end of the day they were just meat. Dangerous, fire-breathing meat that could-and would!-snap you up in a single bite an' swallow you whole, but meat all the same.
Anything died if you hit it hard enough.
Everyone succumbed to time, sooner or later.
Anyone could break, given the proper application of pressure.
He knew these things because he was a blacksmith, not a butcher. His trade lay in the realm of weapons and armor, not fire and blood. That said, he was good at what he did. Very good. Not the best in King's Landing, but good enough to make a decent bit of coin, enough to get by. He did what he could, worked where he was able, but there wasn't much demand for smithin' in the capital at the moment.
It was a time of peace, not war. You didn't need swords for peace.
These days he did what he had to, taking what work he could, where he could.
Sometimes that meant forging hinges for doors, or belt buckles, maybe a bracer if he was lucky. Oftentimes, it meant helping his...less than reputable friends.
Smugglers, for instance. That lot always had good need of iron and steel. They didn't pay top rate -hardly ever did- but some coin was better than none at all. Sometimes he had to run the supplies himself, and sometimes that took longer than he woulda liked, yet he almost always got paid in the end.
And when he didn't...well. He had his hammer.
This latest job for instance just saw him coming back from particularly far afield.
Or was it asea? Fancy posh pricks and their words. Regardless, he'd been gone for awhile this time.
He stowed his little boat in a sheltered cove and covered it with a tattered tarp, then weighed that down with heavy stones to keep it secure. From there he retrieved his satchel, slung his hammer 'round his shoulders, made sure his money pouch was stowed inside his tunic -he'd learned his lesson after a cheeky cutpurse snatched a weeks worth of wages off him- and looked to the horizon. He could see King's Landing looming above him in the distance, framed against the light of the setting sun. Home, such as it was.
He was eager to get back; his wife was pregnant, y'see, and the missus wasn't doing so well.
Good reason for that, and he knew it was his fault. Money was scarce, which meant food was scarcer still.
Ergo, they needed more coin, which meant more work; round and round it went, like a dragon chasing its own tail.
It burned, knowing that his efforts weren't enough. Knowing that no matter how hard he tried, safety and security were just out of their reach. This couldn't be all there was in life.
He was meant for more than this. He had to be. He just knew it.
He'd left Mum long ago to make a living with his own two hands, and by the gods, he would do so or die trying, but at this rate it seemed he'd be dealing with the latter rather than the former.
Maybe it was time to give up on the smuggling business and rededicate himself to his craft; surely he could make something that would fetch a higher price than this. Or maybe take his missus to Tumbleton. She had family there...though it galled him to be indebted to them. No, that wouldn't work, she was too far along, and he didn't dare put her at risk.
Anything was better than this miserable existence. Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, he began the long walk back up to the capital.
It would be good to see Her again, to spend whatever time they had left together-
A dragon's roar split the air, and Hugh froze, rooted where he stood. Aghast, he followed the sound and looked up just in time to see a massive shadow swoop low over the beachhead. It was a massive beast, easily the largest he'd ever seen in all his life.
And it.
Saw.
Him.
Shading his face with one hand, he squinted up at the behemoth, unable to move. Dragons wasn't gods he knew, they were just meat, but they were mighty indeed.
And all he had was his hammer.
Imagine his surprise then, when the beast swooped low and landed before him!
There was nowhere to run; by the time he thought to it was already too late and the dragon was upon him.
It was immense; it wings blotted out the sun, its shadow seemed to swallow the very world. It had terrifying scales, weathered by years of combat, harder than rock.A strange feeling beat within his chest as he craned his neck back to look up at it. Dragons weren't gods. Hugh knew that. But it was awful hard to argue when one got up in your face.
Much to his chagrin, the bronze beast lumbered forward with frightful speed, thrust its head forward, and screamed at him.
Hugh stood stock still, squinting, beard bristling, hair blasted as the dragon's fetid breath assaulted his visage.
He glimpsed the fire swelling within in his throat, and saw his death in those flames.
Was this the end? Would he die here on the beach, unremarked, alone?
Who would take care of his wife? Their child...without him...she would...
His temper stirred deep within, raging against the inevitable. Something snapped. He saw red.
No. Not like this. He wouldn't go out like this; he absolutely refused to die with a whimper on his lips...!
Snarling, he tore the hammer from his shoulder. brandished it in the face of the bronze fury and roared with all his might.
"C'MON!"
The dragon reared back abruptly, surprised.
Paused, now. Considered him anew.
Silence reigned. Until it didn't.
...interesting. He acknowledges you."
Belatedly, Hugh glimpsed the speck of a rider sat atop its back then; he was unable to see them, silhouetted as they were against the setting sun.
A rich regal voice spoke to him from the unseen figure. "Hugh Hammer?"
"Aye?" He held tight to his hammer. "Who's asking?"
Someone dismounted from the dragon.
His eyes bulged.
That was the bloody king!
Crown upon his head, dressed in dark leathers, sword at his side and all! Looked like he knew how to use the latter, too...
Self-preservation quenched his rage and he slammed down to a knee. "Your Grace...
Viserys gestured with one hand. "Rise."
Hugh did, still clutching his hammer, almost daring to hope. "How can I be of service...?
A pause followed. "I understand you have a wife."
Bloody spies in this bloody cesspit of a city!
Still, he didn't dare lie. "I do, m'lord."
"And she is with child, correct?"
...she is, m'lord."
"My lord," the king leaned forward gravely to correct him. "You'll need to work on that."
"My lord." Hugh amended, bowing his head. "I'm afraid I don't understand. Why are you here?"
The king smiled. "I believe you know the answer already."
Did he? No. Surely not him. He couldn't be so lucky.
And yet to have it dangled before him...!
He knelt hurriedly. "Your grace."
"Tell me," The King considered him for a long moment. "Who was your mother?"
Hugh blanched. "That...is a long story...
(.0.0.0.)
Ulff drank, drank, then drank some more for good measure.
Drinking helped keep the fear away y'see. Drowned it, before it could drown him.
But there wasn't enough wine in all the world to save him, not really, not from himself.
He knew what was happening. Dragons flying about, all these royal muckedy-mucks scouring Flea Bottom from top to well...bottom. They was lookin' for Targaryens.
Bastards.
Ergo, him.
Mum had always told him.
He'd never believed her, not really, not deep down. He wasn't afraid...ha! He told a lie. He'd soiled his trousers long ago. If they came for him they'd fight him right here, sitting in his chair, drink in hand. Maybe if he was soused enough he wouldn't feel the blade.
As though summoned by that very thought, Something jabbed him in the back.
"You're a difficult man to find." A low chuckle sent shivers shooting down his spine. "And who are you?"
Blast. And he wasn't even proper drunk yet!
Ulf didn't dare turn around, he dropped his drink and raised his hands in the air. "Nobody at all...?"
"Lie to me again, and I'll cut out your tongue." Whomever was behind him scoffed and jabbed cold steel into his back. "Move, bastard. We have places to be."
Gods be good.
It sounded like the bloody prince!
Ulf raised his hand higher, gulping but a little as he found himself frog-marched out the tavern. "Alright, alright, I'm walking...
What did the bloody royals want with a down-on-his-luck bastard, anyway?
Not to kill him, surely. They would've done that by now, otherwise. Sent a message proper an' all. That they hadn't worried him to no end.
Which begged the question then...
.
..
...why was he still alive?
And where were they taking him?
A/N: Here come the bastards, and the chaos that follows.
We're obviously building up to the wedding and Otto's ultimate fate. Its all part of the plan.
That chapter promises to be an absolutely massive one, but I need tiiiiime to write it. Be assured, those scenes will be well worth it. Thanks for being patient!
Just wanted to say, I appreciate you all! More feedback means faster updates! It's especially important, in these, trying times, with the main site notifications down. Every word counts and i appreciate you all! All these reviews really keep me inspired! Looking forward to hearing from you~! I should be able to update Sunday or EARLIER, time and health permitting.
Weeeell? What did you think? Would you like weekly updates? Yay or nay? Really need to hear from you, here. Feedback makes the world go round!
As stated, this has a high chance of being upgraded to M later down the line, but I need to know if folks want to see that.
By all means, speak up! Your voice matters! Make yourself heard! As ever, reviews are the fuel that sustain me.
So in the Immortal Words of Atlas…
...Review...Would You Kindly?
And enjoy the Previews!
As ever:
SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS!
PLOT DETAILS AHOY!
YE BE WARNED!
Read at your own risk!
As ever, these are from the far flung future...or are they~?!
Previews are mostly the same, wouldn't want to spoil things now.
(Previews!)
"You're with child?
"Alicent, please stop fussing over me...
Do you take the princess Rhaenyra to marry...?"
Everyone saw Alicent's dress. And it was most assuredly not green.
The Hightower host nearly had a heart attack.
"Although," her dear friend amended at the sight of them, "He didn't say to hurry.
Rhaenyra reached behind her back, finding the strings of her dress.
Her dress pooled at her feet.
PUSH!"
The cry of a newborn filled the air.
A moment of silence followed. And then: "It's a boy, your grace!"
A sword is more than a weapon. Stick 'em with the pointy end they say. Ha! When you make a sword, the first priority is to make it purposeful and well-balanced. But a sword is also an object of power and has to express this power in its design...
...and this sword...
..is my gift...
...to you.
"Lord commander."
Ser Harold Westerling was a surprisingly noble man, defending his comrades despite the stain on their honor. "Cole is a good lad, he just needs to get his head screwed on straight."
Naruto clicked his tongue. "Think he needs more than that...
The white worm wishes a a word with you, my lord."
Naruto's brow shot into his hair.
"Who?"
"Daemon's lover.
"Ahhhh...
"If you fail to plan you plan to fail. This world is cold and cruel, and there are a few in it, who are steadfast. You, I think, are steadfast.
Visenya whooped, leaned back in the saddle, and flung up her arms. "Dracarys~!"
Bayle answered in a rush of crackling fire. The girl grinned.
Riding on dragonback was the best!
"Faster, papa! Faster!"
His daughter bounced on his back, grinning from ear to ear as she tugged at his hair.
Naruto smiled despite himself. "Feisty as your mother, I swear. Where's your brother hiding-
Someone leaped onto his back.
"Aha! There you are!"
"It turned out there was more than one person worth saving. So that's what I did, I saved her. Then I protected her. That's why people like you and I are here, son. We have a job to do."
EDIT: Hope you enjoyed! Have a great day!
Warm regards,
~Nz.