All Hail The King
Chapter 9
Haera watched Baelon and Daemon's reactions with amusement. You'd think they hadn't already been introduced to magic before now. Smothering his amusement, watching them reel over the fact they had been followed all along when they were out earlier. They hadn't heard any of the horses or Peverell guards; to think they'd been everywhere with them was astounding. Her magic was truly something else, perhaps Haera had a point when she asked if they'd given up part of themselves to appease the Andals.
"Just point to the guards you wish to accompany us, they will prepare to leave with us," Haera informed them, "The number doesn't matter, whatever would make you both feel more comfortable." They'd be back before their shift would be ended for them to go back to their families for the evening. She didn't require them often, not herself, but they took care of everyone on the Peverell estate, even took the servants to ensure their safety. Haera didn't distinguish between her servants, estate workers or tenants.
"You have a lot of household guards," Daemon commented, pleased with the colours, they were his favourite, also his own families house colours as well.
"That's only half my workforce," Haera replied, "The rest have accompanied my tenants or estate workers to the markets, or enjoying their night off." She gave them one day off a week, such a thing wasn't done often, you were expected to work every day, taking a day off was a luxury that most people could ill-afford.
The first thing Daemon truly noticed about all of them was that they were very well equipped with everything they could possibly need, weaponry to armour. Not ill made or ill-suited like the City Watch, which sad to say was contemptable. What does it say about the Targaryens if they couldn't even equip their men properly? They made the City Watch look like a murmurs farce. The City Watchmen were unfortunately not true soldiers. They hadn't been since Meagor's commander had been arrested, and Flea Bottom paid a very heavy price for it. He knew from talking to the commoners while Meagor's reign had been horrendous it had brought a peace to Kings Landing they had never known. Whether you were a Lord or Commoner you were treated the same, given the same punishment under Meagor. He didn't even want to mention how deplorable it is now.
It was the exact opposite of the Kingsguard, now they were well-equipped, best a man can get, and they knew how to fight, how to defend themselves. They gave him decent fights overall, even if he ultimately succeeded in winning every match he fought in. The combatants weren't good enough to beat him. Hadn't been for the past few years.
Each guard that was pointed to by Prince Baelon, Haera called out their name, and they went inside of their barracks.
It didn't take long at all until they were ready to go, four of the guards on horseback, going ahead to ensure there wouldn't be a problem. Then there was the four that surrounded Haera and her guests. Normally in such an occasion a carriage would be used, but Haera didn't care for being confined in a carriage. She would rather walk, or fly, or apparate, anything other than that.
"You don't have a maid or companion?" Baelon asked, noticing that she was once again, alone with just them. It was uncivilised to have a woman on her own with men, especially men that weren't family. It didn't matter what she'd been through, the only thing that had him urging his horse on was the company, the guards could act as chaperone to confirm Haera's virtue was whole and intact.
"I have plenty of them, I just don't need them sniffing up my ass all day," Haera replied, before taking off, hearing Daemon choking on his own laughter. She didn't need people hounding her all day, or following her all the time. That sort of thing was for girls that needed or wanted friends, who couldn't be happy on their own, with their own company. She understood why it was done; it wasn't quite as easy to make friends, and go to school then head to a friend after dinner then head home. The distances between places were too much, especially for nobility.
They could hear the hustle and bustle of a market before they saw anything. There was more than one language being shouted, High Valyrian, Low Valyrian, they even heard Qartheen being called out. Daemon wanted to close his eyes and just enjoy the moment; it was as close to being home as he'd ever get. He never considered the Westeros his home, never would. His family was the only ones that really spoke High Valyrian, except for the Celtigers and Velaryon's naturally, but the Celtigers were so rarely at the Red Keep, and when they were, it was easy to forget they were Valyrian, they'd lost their distinctive looks, white hair and purple eyes, they'd sullied their lines with Andals long before Aegon conquered Westeros.
There was even the occasional Dothraki being shouted out into the crowd, not that most knew it, it wasn't exactly the most common language.
The sounds and smells were plentiful as the horses were left with two Peverell guards, who were close enough should something happen they'd be able to get there as soon as possible. Then to Baelon and Daemon's surprise, they disappeared in front of them, as in they weren't there anymore.
"Ready to go?" Haera asked, amused.
Nobody seemed shocked by the display of magic…could it be that nobody had noticed? Or was the use of magic so open that nobody so much as blinked? They were standing in the front of the marketplace, where guards from various families were bountiful, along with customers, Vendors and Merchants all watching. Yet as they watched everyone, they realized nobody had noticed, it was as if it hadn't happened. If they hadn't seen such magic happening consistently since their dismount on Peverell estate they would have been left to wonder if they'd really seen it or if it was a figment of their imagination.
"Foods like meats and diary to seafood and spices, baked goods are first. Further away stalls have fabrics, candles and lightening, textiles and clothing, handmade goods and other miscellaneous items that way." Haera showed them using her hand, "This way hosts jewellery, gems, and just as many books on sale. I've found a great many of them here, the Merchants buy and sell books oftentimes not aware of the treasure they truly have. Then again, most books on magic as dismissed, with it never being practiced so openly anymore. At the very end, there's a wish fountain, if you wish to go ahead and purchase anything and investigate alone, we can meet there as soon as it begins to get dark." Luckily though, that wouldn't happen until late at night, most people actually shut up shop so to speak before it got dark, mostly because the taverns and brothels would cause chaos for them. Drunks stealing merchandise, it just wasn't worth the trouble.
Baelon was tense to begin with, but slowly began to relax, white hair was dime a dozen here, nobody seemed to realise who they were. That freedom and anonymity was…liberating to say the least. It certainly gave his son a jolt of excitement as he roved around the marketplace curious about everything on display, buying more than a fair share of food items he'd never seen before and was eager to try.
Haera encouraged their curiosities, laughing along with them when they tried sour items, or saying she told them so when they ate something that was undeniably delicious. Dornish pears were much better than Westerosi pears that were slightly sour. Essos pomegranates were the best pomegranates on earth. The basket she'd brought with her filling quickly (and abnormally! There wasn't enough room for everything that had been packed inside of it of that they were sure).
"Now I understand why you decided to go to the market after our evening meal," Daemon declared, otherwise their evening meal would have been spoiled. Spoiled as in not eaten, since Daemon was stuffed full to the brim with delicious fruits and cakes. He could have gone for seconds.
"Poor Caraxes is going to be lugging your extra weight around," Haera teased him, Daemon was tall and lanky at the moment, but she knew that he had a lot of growing to do.
Daemon just winked at her, "He won't mind," he felt a little tongue tied around her, not his usual flirtatious self, then again, this was wife material, he'd need to be the perfect Prince in hopes of gaining her hand. Emphatically a sight better than Rhea Royce, he hoped sincerely that he got to see the looks on their faces.
"I'll be the one telling you that," Haera teased right back, "After all who is the one that can talk to them?"
Daemon grinned, a lovely boyish beam that made him look years younger, "Speaking off that particular ability, why is it you sound like you're conversing with a snake and do you truly hear hissing in turn?" he'd seen her one-sided (presumably) conversation with Cannibal, or rather Balerion as he'd been renamed.
Baelon paused just a bit ahead of them, he too was eager to hear her reply.
"They are hissing though, and they like to complain, like a lot." Haera revealed, "Honestly, they hate the hoofs on the animals, they'd prefer them chopped off. Balerion prefers Dornish sheep, Caraxes prefers human remains…has done since Tarth. He loves the thrill of the hunt, but horses are his second preference."
Baelon felt sick just thinking about Tarth and how Caraxes had figured out the love of human remains. He had killed thousands of pirates in his fury over the hand that had been dealt his brother. He missed him so much, missed him still, his brother's death had been the beginning of the end. There were so few of his family left that it was painful to watch. How he missed Alyssa, he wanted her here with him. She'd be so proud of their sons.
It should have turned Daemon's stomach but the truth was his purple eyes just gleamed with a glee that would have horrified good people. It was fortunate that Daemon wasn't with someone who could be considered 'good'.
"What about Vhagar?" Baelon couldn't help but utter in his curiosity.
"She's in pain," Haera replied, "Not sure were, has she always been this grouchy or is it a new thing?"
Baelon frowned, a thoughtful look appearing on his face, as he tried to discern whether his dragon had always been a grouchy old thing or if it was something recent. It wasn't as if he neglected her, he made every attempt to ensure her wellbeing, and yes, even if it was through Dragon Keepers – which by the way she didn't let near her now – so perhaps that was an answer all on its own. "Over twenty-four moon turns."
"You know she's in pain and haven't done anything?" Haera asked, no judgement on her face, at least not until she got all the facts.
"I had no notions of her being in pain, even if she is, what can we do to help her? She doesn't allow the Dragon Keepers anywhere near her." Baelon explained, a slither of guilt suffusing him, he hadn't considered her being in pain the reason for her grouchiness, he had put it down to old age. She was one of the oldest dragons left, well, with the exception of Cannibal, he was just as old or older than Vhagar.
"This is why there was a Peverell in every single of the forty-riding families of Valyria," Haera said dryly, "They didn't get married into all of them, we Peverell's were very picky about our spouses. Let's just say we never suffered from a lack of work, we were highly sought, first born, second born, third born, we all gained employment for our ability to talk to Dragons."
"A Targaryen was one, how is it that the ability was lost?" Daemon queried, truly curious, his eyes taking in the sights while his ears listened to hear all he could about the glory of Valyria.
"We'd need to do a family tree to find out if it was the right line, for all we know it could be a cousin branch." Haera answered, "You know you could have a tapestry weaved, although it would be more of a mass squiggle than an actual tree." Utterly amused, sniggering at her own wit, hers would likely be the same. Then again…the Black family tree was still a tree, of sorts, but they didn't marry siblings, usually just cousins pruning the lines so they didn't have too many family members to keep on top of.
Baelon leaped forward and got both Daemon and Haera out of the way of the oncoming rushing guards who were chasing someone. Distracting them momentarily, before Haera got back to her original line of thought.
"It's very unlikely that it was your line they married into though," Haera replied, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, "Then again, your magic is all but gone…I say 'all but' because you can still bond with dragons and Daemon had shown promise."
"You believe we could lose that?" Baelon asked, wide eyed.
"You don't need to worry about that, the dragons are going to be gone entirely by 153 AC," Haera asked, stunning both men into shocked silence.
"What does that mean? What happens to cause it?" Daemon demanded answers, his pulse hammering violently, the very idea of losing the dragons was terrifying.
"You were right, dragons made you kings, not dreams." Haera replied in lieu of an answer. "And yes, I know, if she hadn't had that Dragon Dream your line along with the rest of the Targaryens would have died in the doom." The gods had warned them only because one of their descendants would play a part in the fate of the human race. Which at this point in time, was gearing up to failure and the end of man.
"This cannot be possible…there are more dragons now than there has been since the doom." Baelon protested, stopping her from moving, determined to get answers. "There's no way I'd let that happen." He would not let the dragons die out; he prayed to the fourteen that he wouldn't be responsible for that sort of thing in his reign. Perhaps he should just tell his father that he won't be the heir anymore. Gods be good, the idea made him feel sick.
Haera bit her tongue and stopped herself saying 'Bold of you to assume you live to become King'. However, she wasn't that much of a shit, but if anyone did ask the question straightforward, she would answer honestly. Well, for the most part, if she didn't answer honestly, it would be just to screw people around. Which she was going to do with King Jaehaerys the asshole deserved that and so much more. He wanted to make sure he knew exactly what he'd caused, how he'd screwed everyone over, really, he should get called King Jaehaerys the Andal.
"And I'll make sure it never does," Haera reassured them, "There's no point to going over it twice though, so why don't we continue to enjoy our day, for tomorrow is going to be a long one. Not only for us, but for the dragons as well." Absently thumping them both of the back, before she began moving again.
Daemon and Baelon glanced at each other dumbfounded, had she honestly just thumped them on the back? They turned to watch her go, and once again, it dawned on them that she was so un-lady-like to the point it was like dealing with a man in a woman's body. Lady's didn't go around thumping people on the back, it's something exclusively men did during celebrations and such. She also didn't walk like a Lady, there was nothing delicate about her…and both of them loved it. For one it reminded him of his beloved Alyssa, and for the other? She wasn't dull predictable or boring, she was a dragon rider, speaker, Valyrian and by the fourteen, he desired her.
"Hurry up!" she called back, before too long in the more expensive part of the market, with far stricter security measures on display.
"Won't you give me a clue?" Baelon asked, as they walked, his mind bursting with thoughts that he had no way of knowing was true. Gods be good, she was upending their world, making him question how legitimate their reign was, not to mention his own worth. He hated it, but it was also a heartbreaking truth that left him feeling bitterness in his heart. He knew it to be true, Alyssa would never forgive him for allowing the horror that had been done to his niece. His lovely wife would have dragged Viserys by his ear out of his rooms and out the keep to do the walk of atonement if she'd caught wind of what happened. An admission that he'd only allowed himself to think in the privacy of his own rooms. She would use the walk of atonement because public chastisement would work on Viserys more than anything else, not because she respected the religion, she didn't believe in the seven-who-are-one. She like him believed in the fourteen.
"No, it would do you good to be humbled," Haera decided, walking on before adding seriously, "Although, I spoke the truth, there's no way your father is going to believe anything I say." removing a segment of an orange she plopped it into her mouth. Actually, she wasn't sure what he would believe, but someone who believed men were somehow better than woman? What was the chances of him actually taking her seriously? He truly was misogynistic, that shit would have been beaten out of him in Valyria if they truly believed that the two genders were equals.
"His Grace is very wise, His Grace would be smart enough to take your advice and run with it," Baelon explained, "His Grace listens to his Queen more often than any other council." In other words, if his father refused to heed her, she could inform the Queen who would be able to convince the King when nobody else could.
A small sad smile appeared on her face, "You don't have to parrot the royal protocol to me, I couldn't care less for it. My heart aches for you though, you actually started believing it." It was just like when he was all caught up in Dumbledore and the greater good rhetoric he espoused. At least he had an excuse, he hadn't been a grown ass man. It was clear his wife's death had sent cracks reverberating all the way down the foundations of his soul, but the death of his brother? It had shattered him. Baelon was…broken, the shattered pieces weren't even attempting to hold together. Some pieces were holding on by sheer stubbornness, for his sons she presumed.
"Is that Valyrian steel?" Daemon's voice rose at his shocked incredulity, noticing the glimmer in the sunlight, a glimmer that was uniquely Valyrian steel no other metal could produce that short of shimmer. Valyrian Steel was quite rare nowadays, especially pieces that are fully intact without blemishes. Which is difficult to do to Valyrian steel, but those who have braved the shores to claim a piece of Valyria what they'd brought back was ruined pieces of curled up steel.
It was a suitable distraction, that worked well, as both forgot their previous conversation to see everything on display, including the Valyrian Steel on offer.
"Don't any of the Velaryons or Celtigers have any pieces?" Haera queried as she followed Daemon who immediately took a liking to the blade, the sheen being its own authenticity.
"Surprisingly not," Baelon murmured thoughtfully, "Aegon and his sister-wives…"
"Use their names, they're worthy of it, Queen Visenya and her consort king Aegon and Consort wife Rhaenys." Haera rasped out, positively thrumming in annoyance. "Visenya and Rhaenys did more than Aegon did during the battles and wars, they deserve everyone's respect not to be relegated to a term sister-wive as if they don't matter." Wincing at herself, so much for enjoying the rest of the day.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin the day, but I won't take it back, such queer Andal ways you have." Haera replied, watching both of them flinch as if they'd just been given the worst insult she could possibly give. So much so they didn't correct her with the idea that Queen Visenya had been the ruler, not that it would have mattered for Haera already knew. Too aghast at the very idea of being seen as Andal, if it had been anyone else, Daemon would have been tempted to take their tongue for the insult.
He then noticed a second piece, much larger, a Valyrian Steel Axe, Daemon picked it up gripping it tightly, all likelihood he probably wouldn't be able to afford it himself. Not without a good haggle and letting go of a few of his precious items he'd collected over the years. He was a second son, he didn't get anywhere near as much as his elder brother or father, and he was getting sold off to the highest bidder the sneaky thought came up on him a sense of bitterness suffusing him. It lasted only moments, before he was distracted again.
"Are you interested in purchasing the piece?" the Merchant asked, when he noticed he had their attention and they understood he continued, "The Valyrian steel axe is extremely rare, there is only one other rumoured to be in existence."
"Claw Isle." Daemon murmured, having heard from Lord Celtiger about the glory days of Valyria, he liked him well enough even if he had dirtied his blood with Andals. He didn't understand it really, the pride he held in his ancestry, only to sully it the first chance the family got? They no longer had the classical Valyrian looks, Lord Celtigers entire family were so common that they were uninteresting.
"The Celtigers do have pieces of Valyrian Steel then?" Haera asked, picking up an Arakh and removing its sheath only to find Valyrian Steel hidden under it. "Holy shit." She muttered gripping it tightly refraining from testing it out properly, too many people around and the steel is too sharp to risk nicking anyone. "How much?" her High Valyrian was much smoother than her common.
"Three pieces of Valyrian Steel, these are priceless pieces, how did he acquire them?" Baelon whispered suspiciously. For the price they were worth, the vendor wouldn't have a need to be haggling at a market stall. Yes, it was the richer part of the market place, but still, this merchant didn't look like he had the money to buy one priceless piece let alone one.
Haera spoke quietly, "Stole them from a manse, the family is dead, leaving the estate in disrepair, nobody else to be named in the will, the property has been languishing in its state for the past five years. He wants to get rid of them before they find the pieces missing, which is likely any time soon." He was right to be suspicious, and his instincts were right and rather good.
"I'll give you forty thousand gold dragons for the three pieces," Haera spoke confidently, yet quietly so not to be overheard.
Daemon hissed between his teeth as he inhaled sharply at the shock of such a small offer for three pieces of Valyrian Steel. Three priceless pieces at that, individually.
"You get a relative fortune and safety for your entire family, and I don't tell anyone you stole them." Haera added, "So, what will it be?" she had no qualms about blackmailing the merchant, he stole them and was getting to ammas quite a fortune for them, and its likely soon enough they wouldn't be able to be sold. That fortune would see him and his entire family living comfortably for their entire lives, and off of stolen proceeds.
The merchants eyes became shifty, likely realizing just who was standing in front of him for the first time. Royalty. Of the only remaining Valyrian riding families of Valyria.
"How do you know?" Baelon asked with a sense of awe, she had to be jesting, surely, she couldn't know something like that unless she knew this man?
"We have a deal," the merchant was very quick to give his agreement, too quickly, allowing Baelon to realize she was not jesting. It was really the only possible answer as to why a merchant would have three fully intact pieces of Valyrian Steel weaponry. Then they watched her spent a fortune on three items without a single ounce of doubt or worry. Even Baelon would think twice, and he was the heir to the throne. Oh, who was he kidding, he would not, he'd quite gleefully buy them, even if it left his coffers nearly empty for the next month. He would do anything to claim more Valyrian Steel.
"Nicely done." Daemon said his dark eyes gleaming with glee as the transaction was completed, and three Valyrian weapons were added to the never-ending room in that basket Haera was carrying around. He was rather envious if he was honest, and it was a new feeling Haera was able to so freely elicit in him. He was a Prince of the blood, a Targaryen, a pureblood Valyrian, rider of Caraxes, Knighted at sixteen, and gifted Dark Sister upon receiving his knighthood. There had seldom been a reason for him to be jealous of anyone, except his family that seemed to be able to pick their own husbands or wives, Valyrian ones while the King and Queen were attempting to shackle him to a sheep woman from the Vale. It hurt.
Haera smirked at him, "If you like these, there are many books in Valyrian available three stalls down, they're delicate, worth a fortune, if you find any that mention magic let me know."
That was how the spent the hours until the sun went down, and the street began to darken. Once that occurred, the vendors and merchants began to ask their customers that they were closing for the evening. Then they began to pack up their merchandise, their own household guards beginning to help them achieve their goals quicker. The end of the day would be the best time to target anyone who was in want of money or items to sell.
Neither Baelon or Daemon carried enough coin for all their purchases, but Haera gave them what they needed to make up the price. They promised to repay her once they were back at the Red Keep in Westeros, Haera waved off their promises of repayment. She had more than enough money than she'd ever need in her life, considering she was immortal was an immense amount.
They watched her chat to numerous people, all of them seem to be her tenants and perhaps friends as well. Each of them had at least two Peverell guards, and most of them hard coaches to return them to the Keep. They did wonder if they were the richer tenants, and owned the coaches, they considered it unlikely, otherwise they'd have their own crests adorned the carriage. It's like the possibility of everyone in Lannisport using the Lannister coaches with permission, which wouldn't happen. She seemed too good to be true, and they knew it too, she had just blackmailed someone out of their stolen loot albeit for a deft price. Yet she took care of her people, far better than anyone they'd ever seen, including the King and Queen.
By the time they returned to Peverell Keep they were so tired that they ate a small evening meal, a quiet conversation before bed. The heat in Essos didn't help matters, they were used to far cooler weather, yes, in the summer it was hot, and they dealt with it, but Essos was hotter than their summer in Westeros. The Targaryen men weren't sure how the people in Essos dealt with it if they were honest.
The Next Day
"Will the dragon be able to take all this?" Caela asked, holding up the bag filled with everything her Lady Haera had asked for late last evening. They had prepared it first thing in the morning, as directed, something they were grateful for, it had been a long day yesterday. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer your trunk to be escorted to…" before she could finish uttering the word Westeros the bag shrunk down to the side of a finger.
Daemon stalked up to the finger sized bag, and picked it up, astonished. He couldn't get enough of seeing magic performed so easily and simply. She was amazing, and couldn't wait to return to Westeros and share his tale with Gail, his brother and Aemma.
"Have you heard anything from Westeros?" Baelon enquired, "The King took a turn for the worst after hearing your name."
Haera glanced down at him, as she set the small bag aside before Daemon could lose it. Grasping the coats she flung one at Baelon and one at Daemon, before putting hers on. It would keep them warm (magically) while they flew, they really should have goggles on as well, to protect their eyes given the speed their dragons flew at. "No, I can't say I have, and nothing would reach us that swiftly, only other dragons could reach us so soon."
"And you promise to explain what you meant about the dragons?" Baelon enquired, as he put on the coat, it was warm, a bit too warm right now but it would keep them warm when they flew.
"I guess you don't care to know the family then, so long as the dragons survive?" Haera asked sardonically, shuddering anew at the very idea that Viserys Targaryen was going to sully his bloodline with Andals. "I mean I know I said that but I'm not family…but to each their own." She added, putting the bag into her pocket before setting off with the two Targaryen men, one protesting that it hadn't been what he meant at all.
Haera just laughed loud and freely as she flew, FLEW! Up to Balerion and perched herself lightly on him.
Both men were stunned, and it took a few moments before their brain kicked in again, this coming from men who had been raised to deal with all possible scenarios as members of the Royal Family.
Daemon swiftly made his way to Caraxes grateful that the coat hid a very prominent problem. Upside, at least his stones were no longer in pain. Hopefully he wouldn't piss her off enough to kick him again. By the fourteen, was there any end to her power? Part of him was sad to be leaving Essos to be honest, everywhere he went people spoke High Valyrian, it made him feel at home more than he ever had felt in the Red Keep and the fakeness that surrounded the King and Queen. He'd never give up his status as a Prince for it though, he knew how lucky he had it.
Its why he'd grudgingly gone along with his family's insanity, hoping against all hope that he could get his family to help him.
With one word, Caraxes took off into the air, and the three dragons began to make their way back to Westeros.
The three dragons flew all morning and afternoon, only stopping later in the evening, before it begun to darken on the horizon. They spread out their landing, ensuring both their dragon and their own safety. Vhagar and Balerion were far larger than Caraxes, older as well. They didn't need to hunt for themselves, since Haera with a flick of her wand had three animals getting steadily bigger at their feet, the Dornish sheep and the horses minus all their hooves per the dragons likes. Talking to them quietly, successfully petting them on their faces, unafraid of the smoke that they blew out their nose at her. She just seemed amused by it. And a little awe if they could read her right.
Baelon watched her with a quiet intensity, expecting complaints of aches, hunger, utterances of disgust, whines and moans at having to sleep on the grass. Nothing came forth, she made up a fire and sat herself down, before passing around the food she'd brought for them to eat. It was all cold of course, precooked, at least until a plate was handed to him where it got warmed up.
There was no way she could possibly be a highborn Lady; nobody would be able to endure this. Alyssa would be complaining, at least he liked to think so, such an occurrence hadn't happened to know for sure. Even quiet placatory Gael would not be enduring this without her displeasure known. People with money never had to endure a day of discomfort, even he rarely had to endure nights like this. By rarely he meant not at all until now.
"Are they talking now?" Daemon asked, as always eager to know more, especially about Dragons, he couldn't help but wonder what it was like being able to understand them.
"No, they're sleeping," Haera answered, "At least Balerion and Caraxes is, Vhagar is a little more vigilant and only lightly resting. You should know that she is in pain, actually a lot of pain, where her harness is. I'll have a look at it when we get to Westeros and see what can be done to help her."
Baelon blinked, stupefied for a few moments before uttering a quiet thank you.
"I unpacked this, want to find out about magic?" Haera asked Daemon wagging the book back and forth grinning widely.
"Is it Visenya's journal?" Daemon asked, sliding closer to try and see the spine in an attempt to figure out if it was the case.
"Oh, no, this is a rudimentary level of introduction into Valyrian magic," Haera said in glee, finally she'd have an answer to her questions. Raising her hand, her fingers sprang out as if she was attempting to find something but instead a globe of light lit up the night just above their heads, allowing them to see the Glyphs. "Well, a certain form of magic, there's a Glyph missing, see." Showing him where the glyph was missing, on the otherwise perfectly aged book. The fact it had barely been touched was also a factor in how beautifully preserved but well used book.
Baelon made a loud coughing sound, "You need to get some sleep, why don't you both rest up for a bit. Daemon, come over here, you can rest there." Folding up his coat so that his son had something to at least lay his head on.
Daemon glanced at his father in utter bafflement at his abrupt change in demeanour.
"What do you think we're going to get up to at the dead of the night and in the middle of nowhere?" Haera asked ruefully. "Oh, goodness. Your brother and aunt? Really?" she cackled in amusement.
Baelon blanched purple eyes wide gaping at the slip of a girl that knew something nobody except his aunt (who was the only one alive) knew about.
"Night," and the light that had been above their heads fizzled out with a soundless pop.
Daemon just stared at his father feeling naught but amused shock, he knew it to be true, it was written all over his fathers' face. It was so much fun seeing and hearing her turn the tables on everyone. The crackling of the flames, and shuffling of the dragons, were the last thing Daemon heard as he fell asleep. The exhaustion of riding all day finally catching up with him.
Neither Daemon or Baelon woke Haera up for her to take a turn, although, the longer she slept on the harsh unforgiving ground, the more aches and pains she'd likely have. Sleep they decided came first, and if Daemon spent most of his waking moments watching Haera and every sniffle and shift well, nobody would know. Valyrians were beautiful, there was no denying that, some prettier than others, Haera was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She was strong, magical, and unlike anyone he had ever met. She walked around like a man, he observed, almost stomping, she unlike the Ladies of Westeros she wasn't graceful and didn't constantly keep her hands in front of her in a bid to appear demure and prim and proper.
Then there was the way she dressed, definitely for her own comfort in mind and definitely like a man also.
"Oh, that fucking stinks," Haera gagged, turning away, "Damn! If I didn't already know what you eat, I'd be asking!" glancing at the dragons wondering which one had done it. Waving her hand, she dispersed the damn dump the dragon had just taken.
"Is there something you can do for the harness?" Baelon asked, he didn't like the idea of going on Vhagar if she was in pain, he wasn't exactly the lightest of men in his family.
"I've already made it lightweight for her, don't worry," Haera said, smiling at him, a real smile, clearly happy that he was taking his dragons health seriously.
Unfortunately, it would only last until they landed near the Dragon Pit.
"Why here?" Haera asked, "There's enough room for Vhagar or even Balerion to land nearer the keep…"
"That is the Dragon Pit," Baelon not noticing Haera narrowing her eyes at the structure and the massive dome that was its roof.
Haera hummed, dissatisfied, as they made their way into the pit a while later, she could hear people outside and horses. Obviously, their presence had been noticed, hard to miss dragons after all. Then she froze, gasping softly, grasping her chest shaking over the overwhelming loneliness she felt in that moment. loneliness that most assuredly wasn't hers.
The realisation that these motherfuckers had kept a dragon chained up in a pit for…merlin for decades made her sick and furious.
The ground under the pit began to shake violently, as Haera turned back to face them, a look of revulsion gracing her features, and then the pit exploded violently. An outburst that was noticed by the people in the Red Keep, and in the lands surrounding it, felt by them too.
A/N - Yep as dramatic as ever! I'm having so much fun writing these stories for HOD/HP and worse still getting muses for more a Leanor/Harry story of all things LOL but I'm determined not to write any more new stories until I've finished at least another story (other than walking dead that is) which will be finished next and it will be longer than even this chapter LOL If you can't stand overpowered Harry of any kind then this story is definitely not for you cos I'm planning on Haera (and Harry in my other HOD/HP A New Player In The Game being way overpowered *winks*) now to think of a way to make a king feel like he's making the decisions and funny attempt to get Haera to fall in line *rubbs hands together gleefully* yeah its 1 o'clock in the morning before I got this finished and I definitely need some sleep so goodnight everyone please remember to review xx