CHAPTER 33
~~~~~~~~~~~~(.25mo.304AC)
Lyra was playing with her children in the Common room of the keep. Shireen was fourteen now with a clear beautiful face and smile, Jassin was eight, Joran was seven and Joanna was four. She was sitting on the floor telling them stories after the evening meal like aways.
Lyra had Joanna in her lap and the boys were both sitting on the floor next to her legs watching her. Shireen was on a chair watching as was Tyrion, Jorah, Maege, thirteen name day old Joelle and twelve name day old Lyanna.
Lyra asked, "Did I tell you the story of The Quest for the Shimmering Sword?" Everyone shook their heads or said no.
Lyra cleared her throat and said, "Prince Aemon Targaryen is a young man of about twenty and five name days old, with curly white silver hair and bright lilac purple eyes that were shining with fierce determination. He was the son of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen and Queen Alysanne Targaryen. He wears shining armor adorned with a dragon motif and wields a legendary valyrian sword, its blade sparkled in the sunlight. His face expressed both bravery and focus. He was ready to defend his kingdom. Beside him, a majestic dragon, Caraxes, with blood red scales, piercing eyes, and fierce temperament. The dragon seemed always ready to protect Prince Aemon Targaryen while maintaining a wise and frightening appearance. Rays of light filter through the foliage, illuminating the ground covered with wildflowers and moss. Prince Aemon Targaryen stood there with his heart racing, preparing to confront an evil sorcerer emerging from the shadows, ready to cast a spell. The air was charged with tension, and the light from Prince Aemon's sword illuminates the path to the imminent battle, symbolizing hope and courage in the face of adversity. But, how did he get here in this situation? Do you know?" Everyone shook their heads.
Lyra said smiling, "Then I will tell you the tale from the beginning." She deeply inhaled and blew out.
She said seriously, "In the heart of a bustling medieval kingdom, where knights in shining armor roamed the cobbled streets, there lived a brave and loyal knighted prince named Prince Aemon Targaryen. With his broad shoulders, sparkling lilac purple eyes, and a heart full of honor, he was known far and wide for his courage in battle and his kindness to the villagers. But one foggy morning, as Prince Aemon Targaryen polished his valyrian sword, a mysterious figure approached him from the shadows. The figure wore a cloak that billowed like storm clouds, and a voice that echoed like thunder said, "Prince Aemon Targaryen, I have a quest for you. A legend speaks of an ancient weapon hidden deep within the Whispering Woods, a sword so powerful it can vanquish even the darkest of foes." Prince Aemon's heart raced with excitement. "What must I do to find this sword?" he asked, his voice steady. "You must solve three riddles," the figure replied, "each one guarded by a fearsome creature. Only then will the ancient sword reveal itself to you." Prince Aemon nodded, determination shining in his eyes. "I accept the challenge! Tell me where to begin.""
She continued, "With a wave of a hand, the figure transported them by magic and pointed toward the towering trees of the Whispering Woods, their branches swaying gently in the wind. "Venture forth, brave knightley prince, and may your courage guide you." As Prince Aemon stepped into the Whispering Woods, the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting playful shadows on the forest floor. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the sound of chirping birds. But as he ventured deeper, the atmosphere grew tense, and the trees seemed to whisper secrets. Suddenly, Prince Aemon came upon a clearing where a massive, fierce dragon perched atop a pile of shimmering gold. Its scales glistened like emeralds, and its eyes burned with a fiery intensity. "Who dares enter my domain?" a black dragon roared, smoke billowing from its nostrils."I am Prince Aemon Targaryen, a knight on a quest for the legendary sword," he declared boldly. "I seek to solve your riddle." The dragon's eyes narrowed. "Very well, knight. Listen closely. I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with the wind. What am I?""
Lyra stopped and repeated the riddle to the children. Shireen jumped saying loudly, "An echo!" The others nodded and Lyra said Shireen got the first now someone else will tell the next.
Lyra continued, "Prince Aemon furrowed his brow, pondering the riddle. He thought of the sounds of the forest, the whispers of the trees, and then it struck him. "An echo!" he shouted triumphantly. The dragon let out a deep, rumbling laugh. "You are a clever, brave princely knight. You may pass." With a sweep of its powerful tail, the dragon revealed a hidden path leading further into the woods. Prince Aemon followed the path until he reached a shimmering pond, its waters reflecting the sky like a giant mirror. But lurking beneath the surface was a giant water serpent, its scales glimmering like silver. "To find the next riddle, you must answer my question," it hissed, its voice smooth as silk. "I am ready," Prince Aemon replied, standing tall. "Here is your riddle: The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?" the serpent asked, its eyes glinting mischievously."
Lyra paused looking at the children. Lyanna shouted, "Footsteps!" Lyra smiled and nodded. Now Lyanna was out.
Lyarra said smiling, "Prince Aemon closed his eyes, thinking back to his journey. He remembered the footprints he left behind in the soft earth. "Footsteps!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing across the pond. "Correct!" the serpent exclaimed, slithering back into the depths. "You may continue your quest." With that, the waters parted, revealing another hidden path leading deeper into the woods. Prince Aemon's heart raced as he pressed on, the thrill of adventure coursing through his veins. He soon arrived at a dark cave, its entrance shrouded in shadows. A low growl echoed from within, sending shivers down his spine. Gathering his courage, he stepped inside. At the back of the cave, a fierce lion stood guard, its golden mane shimmering in the dim light. "Only those who can solve my riddle may pass," it growled. "I am Prince Aemon Targaryen, and I accept your challenge," he said, his voice steady despite the lion's intimidating presence. "Listen closely," the lion commanded. "I am not alive, but I can grow; I don't have lungs, but I need air. What am I?"
Lyra stopped and Jassin shouted out, "Fire!" She smiled and said he did a good job. Now Jassin was out.
Lyra continued, "Prince Aemon thought hard, picturing the flickering flames of a fire. "Fire!" he declared confidently. The lion nodded, impressed. "You are indeed wise. You may proceed." With a flick of its powerful paw, the lion revealed a hidden staircase leading upwards. After climbing the staircase, Prince Aemon found himself in a magnificent chamber filled with dazzling light. In the center, on a pedestal of ancient stone, lay the legendary sword, its blade shimmering like a thousand stars. As he approached, he felt a surge of energy coursing through him. "This is it," he whispered, reaching out to grasp the hilt. The moment his fingers touched the sword, a voice resonated in the chamber. "Only a true knight can wield this sword. You have proven your courage, intelligence, and loyalty. Use it wisely." Prince Aemon felt a warmth enveloping him, and he knew this was not just a weapon but a symbol of his honor. He lifted the sword high, feeling its power resonate within him. "I will protect my kingdom and all those who cannot protect themselves," he vowed. But just then, like said in the beginning of the story, a dark shadow loomed over the chamber. A wicked sorcerer, with eyes as cold as ice, entered, his presence chilling the air. "You think you can defeat me with that sword? You are mistaken!" he sneered. Prince Aemon stood firm, the sword gleaming in his hand. "I will not let you harm my people!" he declared, ready to face the sorcerer. The sorcerer unleashed a wave of dark magic, but Prince Aemon, fueled by the strength of the sword, met it with a powerful strike. The clash of magic and steel echoed through the chamber. Prince Aemon dodged and weaved, his heart pounding as he fought bravely. With each swing of the sword, he remembered the villagers who depended on him, the friends he had made, and the honor of being a knight. He summoned all his courage and charged at the sorcerer, the light of the sword illuminating the dark chamber. With one final, powerful blow, Prince Aemon struck the sorcerer, breaking the spell that had cast darkness over the land. The sorcerer howled in defeat as he vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but a whisper of wind behind. Prince Aemon stood victorious, the sword shimmering brightly in his hand. He had proven himself not just as a knight, but as a true hero. With the sword of legends, he returned to the kingdom, ready to protect it from any danger that might arise. As he rode through the gates, the villagers cheered, their voices ringing with joy. Prince Aemon had not only found the powerful sword but had also discovered the true meaning of bravery, loyalty, and the importance of standing up for what is right. And so, the tale of Prince Aemon, the knight who faced the Whispering Woods and emerged victorious, would be told for generations to come, inspiring countless others to be courageous in their own adventures." They all clapped as she smiled.
Tyrion with a glass of wine in his hand asked, "Where do you come up with all these stories? I never heard of Prince Aemon doing battle with a magical sword in the Whispering Woods, or the pirates you tell tales of?"
She smiled at him and said, "Oh Tyrion, how do you know it's not true? Were you there to prove it's not true? Besides, the children love my stories."
Tyrion laughed and toasted her saying, "You got me there, my lady. You certainly tell a good story."
Lyra kissed her sleepy four year old on the head and said, "It's time for bed my sleepy bears. Let papa and mama tuck you in with sweet dreams, my darling little bears." They got up and took the children to their beds.
Tyrion watched them for the last fortnight and thought they were the nicest family he ever saw. The children were kind and courteous. No complaining or whining. No crying unless someone got hurt. They were so loving and affectionate to each other. Even Stannis' child and the adopted boy were never treated differently. They both treated along with their own children all the same. No child went without. He envied the childhood these children were blessed with.
Lady Lyra had been kind and treated him like he mattered with complete respect. He was growing quite fond of these people. He never knew people could be like this on Bear Island. It was so isolated and he thought it was poor. The people were happy and healthy. They had no beggars at the docks. Everyone was employed. Even the whores in the brothels behaved with respect. Nobody had a single word negative to say about their Lord or Lady. They told him that since Lady Lyra came to marry their Lord Jorah, life changed on the island. They said food was no longer scarce and jobs became plentiful. The hunting was plentiful because the need for meat was reduced all from the sennight shipments of food, supplies and materials. They had built over the last eight years over 4,000 ships. They had sold 3,000 ships and kept 1,000 of their own fleet for their protection from the Ironborn, not including the carrick ship that belonged to Lady Lyra personally. It was her private ship with her private crew.
They had orders from King's Landing, Old Town, Lannisport and Deepwood Motte. Even Sunspear, Gulltown and White Harbor have bought some as well as independent merchants for their ships. They were bringing in materials to manufacture and sending them out, like fabrics, leathers and wood carved furniture on cargo ships. The island was thriving. Tyrion thought these people who were small in comparison to most other houses were run by a brilliant government. Lord and Lady Mormont had the best run island he ever saw. If it weren't so damn cold, he would stay here forever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~(.5mo.304AC)
When Daenerys sailed across the Narrow Sea, at the beginning of 304AC, Yara Greyjoy failed in her bid to be queen of the Iron Islands, so she allied herself with Daenerys and began sleeping with her.
Lyra and Tywin had been in constant contact. Lyra had determined that she needed to see what Daenerys had become face to face. Melisandre had left Castle Black and nobody knew where she had gone, but Lyra knew in a vision. Dragonstone.
Daenerys Targaryen, Lord Varys and Daario Naharis, are in a rowboat in Dragonstone Bay, looking out at the castle as they approach. A number of ships are anchored in the water behind them. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion fly overhead.
Everyone gets out of the rowboat on the beach at Dragonstone. Daenerys walks on ahead. She kneels down and presses her palm to the sand, then stares up at the castle and walks further down the beach. The others follow. They climb the steps and approach a gate flanked by two statues of dragon heads. Two Second Sons approach the gate and push it open, revealing a walkway up to the castle. Daenerys, Daario Naharis and Varys walk through the gates and up the walkway. They enter the foyer. A tapestry bearing the stag sigil of House Baratheon is hanging off to the side. She approaches it and tears it down. She approaches a set of doors. Two Second Sons open them for her. Daenerys enters the throne room, followed by the others. Varys stops following her. She approaches the throne and stares at it. Varys looks around the hall. She ascends the steps but walks past the throne into the Chamber of the Painted Table. Varys follows with Daario. Daenerys walks alongside the table and runs her fingers across it. Varys walks alongside the table opposite her and stares at the dragon carvings on the wall. Daenerys stands at the head of the table and stares down at the map of Westeros. Varys looks at her.
Daenerys says looking at both men, "Shall we begin?"