I was staring at the carved sea dragon on the door when I felt the weight of Corlys Velaryon's gaze fall on me. His chambers even in Dragonstone were filled with relics from the world beyond Westeros, treasures from the Summer Isles, Volantis, and distant lands I had only read about. The faint scent of saltwater clung to everything here, even the silken banners and woven carpets.

Corlys stood by the window, his back turned to me, as if the sea held the answers to questions he hadn't yet asked. The silence stretched between us, like the tension in the air before a storm. When he finally spoke, his voice was like the rumble of waves crashing against stone.

"You've made quite the impression," he said, still not looking at me. "Lucerys owes his life to you. Rhaenyra is grateful, so much that she even said it publically to you."

I knew where this was going. I'd seen the way he looked at me. He hadn't looked at me the way he was doing now before. It was as if he was not as his nephew or kin but as something far more dangerous, far more useful, at a possible tool. I knew that Power, in any form, was currency in Westeros, and I had by saving printed a new kind of coin but him looking at me that way, I kinda found it…uncomfortable let's say.

"It wasn't about gratitude," I replied, crossing my arms as I leaned back against the desk. "Lucerys needed saving, and I did it."

I had done it more for myself than for him. I hadn't done it because I was a great hero or something. If Lucerys hadn't looked like my cousin in my last life, if he hadn't looked like a member of my true family, the family I lost, that I would never be able to have again, I'm not sure I would have done anything.

Corlys turned, his gaze assessing. The Sea Snake had lived long enough to see countless battles, betrayals, and power plays. He wasn't a fool but neither was I. His next words came as expected, cloaked in a thin veil of concern.

"You know," he began, pacing toward me, "our house has always been defined by the sea. But you... You could give House Velaryon something more than the sea. Something that even the Targaryens never had." His eyes gleamed with ambition.

I raised an eyebrow, keeping my face blank, even as I felt the familiar tug of suspicion. "And what exactly would that be?"

He smiled, just slightly, the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes. "With your power, Monterys, we could reshape the world. Not as allies to the Targaryens, but as rulers. House Velaryon could rise higher than we ever have. Higher than any house has."

There it was. This is what I was waiting for. I would have thought he would have tried some subtle manipulation or something, with veiled suggestions maybe. This wasn't even subtle.

I knew why he was acting such way. I must have been the equivalent of the lottery for him. He was interested in what I represented. Power. Influence. Legacy. He wanted to bind that to our house, to make sure the Velaryon name, that his name didn't just survive but would be etched in the marrow of the Earth. You would have thought that Laenor, Laena, Vaemond, my cousins and my siblings would have made him think but it seemed it was something impossible to him or maybe he simply didn't care anymore about anything else than glory. Still.

I could almost respect the audacity.

Almost.

"And what makes you think I'd be interested in ruling anything?" I asked, my tone deliberately casual. "The throne, the politics, the endless backstabbing... It's not for me."

I was like kinda sure that I wasn't immune to poison or anything like that. I was technically a glass cannon. I didn't want to worry more than needed. Also, sitting on a throne of sword sounded cool on paper but it was actually stupid. You could easily buy yourself and be infected, you didn't know if it was cleaned, how it was cleaned, if maybe the fact that it had been made with dragon fire kinda possibly made it radioactive or something. The Phantom of the Opera looked cool on rotting Viseeys but I didn't think it was for me. It would be bad for my looks and my complexion

Corlys's smile didn't falter, but his eyes sharpened. "You say that now. But power changes things, Monterys. It changes people."

"I'm not looking to be changed," I said, shrugging. "I just want to live. Peacefully, if possible."

That was the truth—or at least part of it. I had never been one for grandeur or power games. The idea of sitting on a throne, making decisions that affected millions, held no appeal for me. Do a good thing and they say you didn't do enough. Do a bad thing and you become the literal devil of the Bible.

He took a step closer, his voice lowering. "You may not seek power, but power has found you. And with it, you've changed the landscape of Westeros forever, whether you wanted to or not."

"Your existence my boy would radically shift how people view the Targaryens and their dragons. Just by existing, you will make the dragons, the roots of the might of House Targaryen, be viewed as far less significant compared to you, as not the ultimate power in this land anymore."

He was circling around me like a wolf searching for weakness to pounce on "you living a peaceful life? Don't make me laugh my boy. Just by existing again, even if you never use your magic again monarchs and lords across the continent, including Aegon and Rhaenyra, would no longer see themselves as secure because they would always think he could destroy any of us at will! What would be the point of making political allegiances to a queen or a king when there is someone who can at any moment destroy their dynasty?

I remained silent, watching him as he spoke. He wasn't wrong. After what I'd done in the Stormlands, the world had shifted. I hadn't meant for it to happen—not like this. But here we were.

What stopped a lord tomorrow disagreeing with Rhaenyra or her brother to come at me instead of them? More than that, let's say that tomorrow, someone I was close with insulted Rhaenyra, someone like my brother Rhogar. Would she even think now knowing what I can do to dare punish him?

A monarch was one because they all a monopoly on violence. I was taught this lesson when I was younger by my grandpa in my past life. You could be more royal than a king, steal their crown, their land if you had more power than them and this is why it was necessary for a monarch to always the monopoly on violence, to always be able to exerce their powers on others. My uncle was right. I would never allowed a peaceful life.

"You saved Lucerys," Corlys continued, his voice smooth. "you could do more, much more, for our house. Imagine what we could achieve together. The Velaryons have always been tied to the sea, but you... you could give us something greater. Something the world has never seen."

He was laying it on thick now, pushing his agenda with every word. But I could see through it. This wasn't about family or legacy. This wasn't even about survival. This was about greed. I guess you needed to be greedy in such word to even have a chance to raise higher.

"You think too highly of me," I said, my voice calm but firm. "I'm no conqueror. I don't want to rule or reshape anything."

Corlys's eyes narrowed, just for a moment. "That may be true now, but people change, Monterys. You're still young. There is much you didn't have seen yet, that you hadn't experienced yet. You said you want a comfortable life but comfort rarely equal contentement nephew."

His eyes were gazing into mine as if looking at something only he could see "And when you realize that, when you see that, understand that your comfort was left to be desired, could be more... you may find that the world needs reshaping."

I tilted my head, studying him. There was no denying the ambition in his words, the hunger for something more. But I had no interest in playing the game of thrones. What he was wrong was that it could change. Since I punted Vhagar from the sky, since I made this meteor fall, the stillness in my heart, the boredom in my soul, it's not that they were gone but they were now accompanied by a flame that seemed to scream wanting more.

"You're trying to manipulate me," I said plainly, my eyes meeting his.

To his credit, Corlys didn't flinch. He had probably heard worse accusations over the years. "I'm trying to guide you," he corrected. "You have a gift, Monterys. A power that could change the world. But power without direction is wasted. I only want to help you use it wisely—for the good of our house. For your good."

"That's cold uncle. What you're saying could count like treason you know, treason against your own grandsons and granddaughters. What would cousin Laena think?"

I saw a flash of hurt bloom in his eyes before they became colder "She would understand that no matter what I do, I do it with the goal of only giving the best to my family."

She would not we both knew. Laena had been very very close to Rhaenyra the same way Laenor had been with Joffrey but well, it was the future of her daughters so who knows.

"The destruction of the Stormlands," Corlys continued, his voice low and measured, "will be remembered for generations. They will fear you, Monterys. They will respect you more than they ever did the dragonlords of old Valyria. You've achieved what no one else could. Your name will be recorded in the annals of history as one of the most—"

I interrupted him. "Wait. What do you mean by the destruction of the Stormlands?"

Corlys paused, his eyes flickering with something I couldn't quite place. "You don't know?"

I frowned, feeling a cold knot forming in my gut. Something wasn't right. Something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

"What do you mean I don't know?"

At that moment, I saw pity flash in the eyes of my uncle and I felt my heart skip a beat.

scene*

Flying above the clouds, I could still feel it. That gnawing sensation of something being fundamentally wrong. The air was thick with it—an oppressive weight that pressed down on my chest with every breath. I was floating in the sky, a shimmer of purple gravity forming an aura around my body, wind slicing through my hair as I urged myself toward the Stormlands.

It didn't take long for the devastation to come into view.

From the sky, it looked like hell itself had carved a path through the earth. I had imagined the worst when Corlys spoke, but what I was seeing… it was beyond anything I had expected.

The ground was blackened, split wide open in jagged scars that stretched for miles. Fires still burned in patches across the land, their orange glow flickering against the darkened sky. Entire forests had been flattened, reduced to little more than ashes. Rivers had been diverted, their courses twisted and broken by the sheer force of the impact.

What was once green and fertile had become a wasteland. Nothing remained.

I had known there would be destruction. I wasn't naïve enough to think I could call down something like that without consequences. But this… this was worse than I could have ever imagined.

I thought of Aemond, of Vhagar. They were the targets. Not this. Not... all of this. The meteor should've only affected them, should've brought them down. That was the plan. But instead, I had wiped out an entire region.

From up here, it looked like the end of the world.

The crater that marked where the meteor had struck was massive. It wasn't just a hole in the ground—it was a wound, raw and bleeding, the earth itself torn apart by the force of the impact. I could see the remnants of villages, nothing more than scattered ruins now. Fields that had once been alive with crops were nothing but scorched earth.

There were no survivors. No movement. No signs of life.

It was as if everything had been erased, swallowed up by the void I had created. The land stretched out before me, a bleak and empty canvas of destruction. The kind of devastation that could only be wrought by something far beyond human comprehension. Or, apparently, mine.

I felt a cold chill run down my spine as I stared at the destruction. What had I done?

It's easy to forget in the euphory of using your powers that things are in real life different from games or shows or movies or books.

Madara Uchiha uses the Chibaku tensei, he flattens his enemy, close surroundings and go on for his day. I do the same things, physics intervene.

I hadn't put in thought what would realistically happen if I made fall from the sky a meteor the size of a mountain.

I had been stupid. More than stupid. Lives surely had been lost, millions if not more simply because I lost myself in the euphory of using my powers without restriction for the first time. I could have stopped it from affecting an area the equivalent of a country if I had just think.

The word came out of my mouth by itself

"Fuck."

scene*

The tension in the air was palpable as Aegon sat on the Iron Throne, his knuckles white from gripping the cold metal armrests. The Iron Throne itself seemed less secure than it had just days before, its jagged edges cutting into his back as if mocking his precarious claim to power. The small council had gathered in a rushed, panicked state, and the news they brought with them had set his teeth on edge.

The Stormlands, it seemed, were gone.

"How in the name of the Seven can an entire kingdom be... gone?" Aegon asked, his voice strained, almost disbelieving. He had heard the reports, but still, his mind fought against the reality of what had happened. He refused to accept that such devastation was even possible.

Ser Criston Cole stood beside him, his expression grim. "The reports are true, Your Grace. Something—some great force—has torn apart the Stormlands. Shipbreaker Bay is a ruin. The land is scorched, the sea has risen up, and the towns and castles that once dotted the region have been reduced to rubble."

The members of the Green Council shifted uneasily. The air in the council chamber was thick with the weight of what they were discussing. Aegon scanned their faces, searching for someone to speak, for some explanation, but there was only silence, each man lost in his own thoughts, his own fear.

"Gone..." Aegon repeated, his voice quieter now, as if saying the word would somehow make it more understandable. "How can this be?"

It was Lord Larys Strong, the Master of Whispers, who finally broke the silence. He had been sitting quietly, as he always did, his eyes half-lidded, hands folded neatly in his lap. When he spoke, his voice was soft, but it carried a weight that made everyone lean in closer, as though straining to hear some forbidden truth.

"It was not fortune, Your Grace," Larys said, his lips curling slightly into a smile that never reached his eyes. "This destruction... it was no accident."

The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, heavy with implication. Aegon felt his stomach knot, and his gaze locked on Larys. "Explain yourself, Strong," he commanded, his tone sharper than before.

Larys bowed his head slightly, showing deference, though his voice remained steady, almost unnervingly calm. "I've received reports from my network, whispers carried by trusted agents from Dragonstone. They say this devastation—this cataclysm—was not the work of gods or nature, but of magic. Magic wielded by Monterys Velaryon."

The name sent a ripple through the council. Aegon blinked, trying to process what he was hearing. Magic? He knew the Velaryons were a very minor but still noble and respected house of Valyrian origin just like the Targaryens had been and Valyria was all knew the greatest civilization known to man with powerful magics it was said, powerful magic and blood that were supposed to be the reason why the Targaryens were dragon riders but this... this sounded ridiculous impossible. It would have still sounded ridiculous but possibly believable if it had been someone like his whore of a half sister or one of her bastards who had done such thing but a Velaryon? He wanted to dismiss the words of the master of whispered, call them nonsense yet the gaze of the Strong held no mirth. Larys Strong was telling the truth or was believing that he did. This is the only reason why he gave some credence to the words of the spy master.

"Velaryon?" Aegon spat the name, his brow still furrowing in disbelief. "You mean to tell me that the one who caused the destruction of the Stormlands is loyal to my half-sister?"

Larys hesitated for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. "Not necessarily, Your Grace. Monterys Velaryon is a complicated figure. Though he is a Velartyon and House Velaryon is aligned to Rhaenyra, there are reasons to believe his loyalties may not lie as clearly with her as you might think."

Aegon narrowed his eyes. "Go on."

"His uncle Vaemond died, head lopped off in this throne room due to saying the truth about the true nature of princess Rhaenyra. His brothers and cousins were mutilated, their tongues ripped because they spoke of truth too my king. Monterys himself remained distant from the court of Dragonstone for much of his life. His relationship with Rhaenyra should be, at best, strained." Larys paused, letting his words sink in. "The destruction of the Stormlands may have been directed at possible allies, but the truth is that we didn't lose anyone who was already loyal to your cause my king."

The tension in the room thickened as Aegon processed this. If Monterys could unleash such destruction, if he wielded magic that could wipe out an entire region... Aegon felt a shiver run down his spine. What chance did he have if this weapon belonged to Rhaenyra? He truly hoped Larys was right. Magic and destroyed kingdom. He needed a drink, no, he needed to get out of Westeros as quickly as possible. He would have if he knew he wouldn't fail.

Otto Hightower, his grandfather who had been standing quietly to the side, stepped forward. His expression was as calculating as ever, though there was a glint in his eye that suggested a plan forming. That looked gave Aegon the creeps not that he would say it…again. He had said it once loud in presence of his mother and she had slapped him before lecturing foe hours. Something told him that a crown would not change much.

"It's not stupid to consider this, Your Grace," Otto said slowly. "Monterys Velaryon is an enigma, and if he feels slighted by Rhaenyra, we could use that to our advantage."

Aegon's heartbeat quickened. "What are you suggesting, Grandfather?"

Otto clasped his hands behind his back, his eyes gleaming. "If we can offer Monterys something Rhaenyra cannot—if we promise him more than just Driftmark, something that binds him to our cause, we might turn him into our greatest ally."

"Driftmark?" Aegon asked, puzzled. "What more could we offer him?"

Otto's voice dropped lower, a hint of cunning seeping into his words. "A royal marriage."

The council erupted into murmurs of agreement and surprise. Aegon stiffened, glancing around at the faces of his advisors. A royal marriage, what did it mean by that? There were no unmarried Female Targaryen of age except if maybe his grandfather wanted to give Daeron, because Monterys was maybe like his dead sword swallowing cousin called Laeno or something

"A royal marriage? You mean..." Aegon drawled as if he understood the intent of the old high tower.

"Jaehaera," Otto confirmed, his tone calm, but his eyes sharp. "Your daughter. The only one of Targaryen blood who could be offered to secure such an alliance. A marriage to Monterys Velaryon would ensure he is tied to us by blood, by family."

Aegon felt a wave of uncertainty wash over him. His daughter? Jaehaera was young, too young and innocent. He didn't want his daughter to be unable to choose who she would marry just like it had been with Helaena. Helaena may be his wife but in truth, they were more strangers than anything else. Aegon did what ess asked of him by producing heirs and never touched her again. It's not that he didn't care about Helaena, she was still his sister after all. It's just that he knew he would never love her and thus would never abandon his whores for her. He didn't want this for his daughter. And Monterys... could they truly bind him to them with a marriage? Could they afford to risk it?

"Maybe it's not a good idea. She is young," Aegon tried to object.

His feeble attempts was cut by his grandfather "She'll grow up. She won't forever be young."

There were so many things he wanted to say. He turned in the direction of his mother, almost begging her with his eyes to disagree with her sire. She didn't. It hurt but honesly, a part of him knew he shouldn't have expected anything else.

As if the gods were for once kind to him, his mother Alicent, who had been silent for much of the discussion, stepped forward now, her face pale and spoke "A royal marriage? And what if he doesn't accept? What if he remains loyal to Rhaenyra? Maybe it's not a good idea."

Their gazes crossed for an instant and Aegon hoped that she could see in his eyes how thankful he was.

The room fell into silence, each person grappling with the weight of her words. If Monterys refused, if he was loyal to Rhaenyra, then they were finished. No army, no dragon could protect them from a man who could summon fire from the sky. The very idea seemed to enough to chill them to their bones.

The gaze of his grandfather crossed with Alicent's before she broke it by moving her head down slightly Aegon looked at his mother, then back to his grandfather in mounting frustration, his chest tight with apprehension.

His grandfather's gaze travelled and met his again "You have to understand, my king. It is primordial that he is tied to us through blood and oaths because if he doesn't…"

"And if he doesn't accept...?" Aegon asked even if a part of him already knew the answer.

"Our cause die," his grandfather uttered "and we would all be dead and by us all, I also mean your children, my king."

If Monterys Velaryon was truly loyal to Rhaenyra, if he chose her side over theirs, then they would be facing the end. Their cause, their claim to the throne—everything—would be obliterated.

Aegon clenched his fists, his mind racing. They had to try. They had to bring Monterys to their side, whatever the cost. It was for the best. Jahaera would understand one day. He hoped she would not hate him for him.

They needed Monterys on their side Because if they didn't... they would all die.

I tried to create a backstory to merge the show and the book versions of the Velaryons. Probably could have done better but it should be good enough. Monterys on his side is realizing that he may have fucked up a little and the greens are planning and panicking. Please, tell me in the comments what you think of this chapter, what you liked or disliked about it, what you found interesting or not.

PS: I got a p.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m / Eileen715 with three more chapters of this story on it. Don't hesitate to visit if you want to read more or simply support me or for any other reason