2nd Moon, 69 AC
Outside the Village of Blackbridge, Roseford
Prince Vaekar spurred his horse through the small road, many parts of which were overgrown with weeds, the hot sun on his back and his mounted escort of 20 men close behind.
He had left Highgarden nearly two weeks ago after enjoying the hospitality of his sister and the protection of Highgarden before at last leaving to return to Dragonstone, his grim island seat.
He could of course have taken a ship, but Vaekar was an experienced sailor and the seas south of Dorne could be treacherous, and sailing past shipbreaker bay and Storms End was hardly an appealing option, any number of things could go wrong, and Vaekar had no wish of ending up like his grandfather the Conqueror, so he resolved to make the long trip by land, riding through the Reach and through the forests of the Kingswood to avoid Kings Landing, and finally to Stonedance where his friend Lord Massey would arrange him transport back to Dragonstone.
The Prince studied the road, which was more like a trail, small roads had existed for centuries near most of the major cities of Westeros, and the roads had been easy going near Highgarden, even cobbled in some places, but as he inched closer to Kings Landing they became less and less wide and their quality decreased rapidly, Kings Landing was a rather new city and before its founding there had been little trade in this direction.
A man of Vaekars intelligence understood the consequences this caused beyond just rough riding, the roads leading to King's Landing were wholly insufficient to support travel and trade to and from the capitol, improvements would have to be made.
Perhaps when I am Hand Vaekar thought to himself, he did not possess the skill to oversee such a large project on his own, even with his intelligence but when he became his sisters hand he would have no shortage of skilled engineers under his influence, beginning such a project would no doubt help to dispel some of the rumors about him.
For years Vaekars ambition had centered around the Iron Throne, to ascend the steps to that proud seat….for the Conqueror's crown to be placed upon his head….it had been no easy thing to envision the hands pin upon his chest in place of that dream, but recent events had necessitated a change of plans.
It is the best way The Prince reminded himself as he continued down the poor excuse of a road.
It had become clear that he would never gain enough support for his claim on his own, his sister Laena had seen to that with her spreading of foul rumors that had all but destroyed his reputation that he had worked so hard to gain from over a decade of fighting pirates in the Stepstones. Even if his reputation had been intact, he knew it would be hard to find support for his claim….he did not have an heir, a son…and the lords of the realm would never rebel against the throne without the security that they would not need to find another ruler in a few decades, and risk the good graces they would gain their house being made irrelevant in the eyes of a new ruler.
Vaekar had long been aware of the futility of his efforts, but he was a stubborn man and did not give up easily, but there had been a change in the Prince that had led to his decision to swear his loyalty to his older sister.
He had been hoping that the Raymont Baratheon and Aumary Tyrell would provide distraction to his sister with their ambitions, allowing him time to find a way out of his predicament, sire an heir and build the army he would use to depose her, he knew his sister would likely prevail over the upstart Lord Paramounts in time, but he had been counting on a few years at the very least to strengthen his position.
In light of his hopes, it had been most unwelcome news indeed that in the space of just months his sister had managed to remove her two greatest rivals from the board, leaving mere children in their place….he had no doubts as to who his sister would focus on next….she had already attempted to have him seized once after all.
The Prince had always been a bold man, ever since he was a young man fighting in the Stepstones, leading his men where the fighting was thickest, never shying from a fight, but the speed in which his sister had dispatched Raymont and his brother-by-law had perturbed him no small amount, if she could dispatch them with such ease, what chance did he have, disliked and distrusted by the realm. In the immediate aftermath of their killings he had isolated himself on Dragonstone, letting no ships enter the harbor for two weeks until he was convinced no immediate reprisal from his sister was imminent.
During this isolation he had come to a conclusion…..he could no longer stand alone against the full might of his sister as his younger self had, he needed allies, and powerful ones at that.
Turning to his sisters claim had been the obvious choice, while the loyalty of the Reach lords was dubious, she had the power and chivalry of Highgarden behind her, as well as the support of many lords from the Crownlands, and a dragon of fighting size, though he knew she would never use it personally, it could prove of some use on its own.
Following the death of her husband, his sister had kept her claim rather close to the chest in fear of Laena, and it seemed that her husband's hard work might all be for naught, but Vaekar knew that his counsel and presence at her side had emboldened her and he had slowly convinced her to seek out more support, which had culminated in Lord Starks pledge.
In truth supporting her claim was not so bad, she was a good and godly woman, and they had always been close, even as children….she had even advocated for his release from his sisters dungeon at the beginning of her reign, and for that he would always be thankful.
If they were to prevail over their older sister she would be a good Queen, able to heal some of the wounds their older sister had caused, and he knew that as hand he could mold the realm to his ambition, his sister was smarter than most gave her credit for, but he knew the best way to manipulate her was to present an idea and make it seem like her idea, he would not lack for influence.
His sister was not in the best of health, however the Prince knew, she would give the realm a few good years of peace before she passed, leaving the throne to her young son Ellard. Vaekar had nothing against his nephew, but he would not sit idly by and watch his birthright slip away again…as Hand of the King it would be a simple enough thing to depose his sister's son and finally ascend his throne.
It is the best way The Prince repeated to himself, his only path to the throne was through his sister, a long path to be sure but his best and only option. The few years his sister would rule would give him time to both sire and heir and, through intelligent and just stewardship as Hand, earn him the respect of the realms nobility and dispel the foul rumors that assailed him, leading to little opposition when he took the throne from Ellard.
To be sure, a man of the Prince's intelligence was aware of the flaws with the plan of supporting his sister's claim. He had spent many sleepless nights thinking of how to defeat Vhagar, not to mention Oathwing and Narrah in the field, and all of the potential plans relied on luck, even if his dragon Andalax grew to fighting size, he did not know if he could defeat any of his sisters dragons in combat…Vhagar, while huge was rather ponderous and slow…but one false move…..
There were other flaws…..his sister Alyssane could pass before they had garnered sufficient support, leaving him right where he started, with nothing to show for his years of planning and there was always the possibility his nephew Boros would slip away from his sister Cymellas influence as well, the Prince was aware of well over a dozen events that could cripple or hinder his plans, but at the end of the day his only chance was to try….to move forward, if the Seven wished for him to take the throne, then they would cast their favor upon what was to come.
He was shaken from his thoughts as the village of Blackbridge came into view.
It was a rather small and quiet village, perhaps three to four hundred souls and situated near a small river. Despite its small size, it was clearly well to do, judging by the quality of the houses, many of which were freshly painted and roofed and the surrounding plots of farmland.
There was also a bridge leading across the river to the village, contrary to its name, it was a plain bridge of solid wood and not black in color. As he got closer he saw that there were some pillars of crumbling black stone in the water holding up the wood, clearly remnants of the old bridge before some harm had befallen it.
The Prince made a mental note to keep his thoughts to himself, doubtless one word of question to any of the village folk about the bridge would lead to a long rambling tale spanning generations with no prospect of extracting himself in a timely manner.
At the end of the bridge was a three storied tavern, well made with a wooden sign hanging from chains by the door, depicting a stone black bridge., gently swaying in the breeze.
As he approached the bridge he paused for a moment as was his habit, bridges were good places for ambushes after all, with only two directions to escape.
The action saved his life.
As he abruptly paused, in a single instant he saw a flash of movement out of the corner of the eye, a rather out of place shine from one of the top floor windows of the tavern, this flash of movement was accompanied by a hissing sound.
A crossbow bolt came flying towards the bridge, embedding itself on one of the wooden sides of the bridge, right where the Prince would have been if he had not paused, hitting the post with a heavy thunk.
Suddenly more bolts began to fly from the open top floor windows, hissing their deadly song.
Vaekar tumbled from the saddle, all but throwing himself from his horse as the bolts flew by, he landed to the ground with a thud, but unhit, his horse and many of his men were not so lucky.
His horse crumpled to the ground with a shrill noise, convulsing wildly as several of his men were also hit and knocked from their horses.
A bolt hit the bridge just inches from Vaekars face, but he forced himself to crawl towards his horse and undo the straps tying his shield to the dying horse's flank, quickly untying it as bolts flew around his head.
A few more moments The Prince thought to himself as the hissing of bolts, groaning of his wounded and shouting of alarmed townsfolk filled his ears as he held his shield up, feeling a heavy thud against it.
As any good commander would, Vaekar had posted a few of his escort as outriders, to screen his flanks, and it was them he heard thundering into the town from another entrance to the town, dismounting by the door and clambering up the tavern stairs, with swords drawn.
As the bolts ceased their deadly flight, Vaekar rose to his feet and surveyed the carnage, three of his men and as many horses were lying dead with a further two wounded, he looked up to the upper tavern windows where a few of his men could be seen, one of them giving a shake of his head….they had fled.
Suddenly he heard the sounds of horseshoes galloping over cobble streets, and saw a hooded rider urging his horse down the streets with a shout, the Prince was about to order his men to give chase when he heard another twang of a crossbow being fired.
The man tumbled from the saddle in an exaggerated fall, hitting the ground with a groan as he fell to the ground, one of his men from above nodded to the Prince, having picked up a crossbow from one of the escaped assassins.
Vaekar, Blackfyre in hand and his men forming a semi-circle around him advanced towards the groaning man.
He would not be long for the world, the bolt had pierced a lung, and he was coughing blood and spittle to the ground, the townsfolk of Blackbridge watching wearily from their homes and windows.
The Prince put a boot on the man's chest and aimed Blackfyre at the man's throat.
‘’Tell me who sent you and I will give you the gift of mercy.’’ The Prince commanded, in truth he already knew who had sent the assassin but he wanted the townsfolk and his own men to hear, the more witnesses the better.
The man coughed blood and groaned.
‘’Who.’’ The Prince commanded.
‘’The Princess Vaell…Vaella.’’ The man groaned.
‘’On whose orders…’’ He persisted, pushing his boot on the man's wound.
‘’AH….The Queen….The Queen o..ordered you to be killed.’’ He gasped.
Wordlessly Vaekar slashed the man's throat open with Blackfyre, his dark red crimson blood pouring onto the well to do streets of Blackbridge.
After entrusting the bodies of his fallen men to the local Silent Sisters, the Prince and his retinue made a hasty dash to the safety of the Kingswood, emerging some weeks later at Stonedance where the Prince sailed to Dragonstone, taking shelter in his grim island seat.
3rd Moon, 69 AC
Red Mountains near Nightsong Castle, the Dornish Marches
Lianna sat upon her horse, eyes trained to the sky as the falcon dove downwards towards its prey, a rather unsuspecting hare, sitting among the shrubland.
She pursed her lips in anticipation as the falcon made its flight downwards, swift as the wind….all seemed to be going well until inexplicably, seconds before the moment of impact, the hare casually retreated into a rocky burrow, causing the falcon to pull up at the last moment.
‘’Damn it!’’ Larissa exclaimed loudly, causing Lianna to lightly smile, she knew she would bluster and pout about the failure, but she knew her younger sister well enough to know she likely felt some relief as well….she never had a problem with hunting birds but even since she had been a child she had found rabbits to be adorable and never enjoyed seeing her falcon bringing back their mangled and bloody corpses…her sister was more of a social hunter, as was Jaehara…and herself for that matter.
‘’These marcher hares…..they have eyes in the back of their head they do.’’ Nakados Tendryis, the royal family's master-of-the-hunt and her sister Jaeharas husband chuckled lightly before continuing ‘’Shall we attempt again?’’
Jaehara shook her head silently, Lianna had hoped the outing would lift her sisters spirits but she had remained sullen and quiet for much of the trip, though Lianna was glad to see her sisters complexion had improved somewhat from time spent outdoors.
‘’I believe we have had enough hunting for one day……I am sure there will be ample opportunity for more hunts….it is a long way to Sunspear, and I believe my sister would like to rest.’’ Lianna said, handing her falcon to the handler and undoing her hunting gloves.
‘’As my Princess commands.’’ He said, bowing his head before instructing his huntsman to ride ahead back to camp and deliver their game to the cooks.
Their company numbered over half a hundred, fifty mounted dragons cloaks from the Red Keep and a further 10 mounted gold cloaks, along with Ser Colin Fossoway of the Kingsguard. In addition to this number were 8 huntsmen, led by Nakados Tendryis, well over a dozen servants, handmaidens and cart masters and quartermasters carrying food stores, provisions and the three Princesses belongings, all bound for Sunspear, where the Princess Larrissa would wed her betrothed, Prince Blaise Martell. It might have included the Princess Vaella as well but her younger sister had left on a ‘’sensitive mission’’ as her mother put it shortly before Lianna and her sisters departed for Sunspear.
As one might expect progress was slow, especially traveling through the forest tracks of the Kingswood and the rainy woods of the Stormlands….they could have simply have taken a ship, but Lianna wanted all the time she could with her younger sister Larissa, whom she had grown very close after essentially raising her.
The meandering journey also served another purpose. Lianna had learned of the meeting at Highgarden between her aunts Alyssane and Cymella, her uncle Vaekar and Lord Stark, whom she had thought she could trust. Lianna had been confused as to what had transpired between her mother and Cymella, who had been close ever since she was a child, and she suggested inviting her aunt back to the Red Keep in an attempt to mediate between them, but her mother was tight lipped as to what had happened and refused any attempts to make peace with her sister saying some bridges could never be rebuilt and her sister had made her choice.
Her mother had, however, listened to one suggestion Lianna had made. The royal treasury was not receiving tax capable of spending extravagantly, though her mother had been frugal and prudent in that regard. Lianna knew things were entering dire straits with her aunt's claim however, and if war could not be prevented they were going to need allies.
While the treasury was not so great that they could afford to lavish gifts upon the great houses, Lianna felt confident she could win some smaller houses to their cause should it come to the worse. And so the trip to deliver her sister to Sunspear was punctuated with many small detours and visits to the small castles they came across, where Lianna would bestow small gifts of gold and silver to the lords, the largest such trip had come the previous week when Lianna had made the trip to Horn Hill, seat of House Tarly and had a productive visit to the point she believed if it came to war then the Tarlys would remain loyal, or at the very remain neutral to their Tyrell overlords and her aunts overtures for support.
It didn't take them long to reach their camp, which was already heavy with the smell of cooking meat, a few hares and birds that had been contributed by the Princesses and more substantially a stag taken by one of Nakados’s huntsmen was being prepared.
Lianna took in the smells of the camp and bid her sisters farewell until supper, Larissa would no doubt wish to pray with her Septa at the local sept in the nearby village of Nightingale while Jaehara would no doubt wish to rest in her tent.
Not for the first time Lianna wondered if she had made a mistake in having her sister come along and separating her from her son Aenys, she had thought it would do her well to get away from the court for a while, but her sisters handmaidens had reported she went to bed crying most nights and Lianna wondered if it had been a mistake to bring her along, her sister had always been a rather fragile and volatile woman…even since their childhood together in Kings Landing with their grandparents.
Lianna missed her son Jareion most fiercely as well, and was not pleased about having to leave him with a wet nurse but she had to admit the trip had refreshed and revitalized her from the stressors of court, motherhood and her selfish husband.
As she made her way to her tent, their traveling Maester was waiting for her outside its entrance.
‘’From Kings Landing Princess.’’ The man bowed, leaving her to open it.
She didn't open it immediately, leaving it on the bed while she changed out of her riding boots and clothes and washing the dust from herself and her hair before she returned to her bed and sat down to read it.
Her mood darkened almost immediately as she read it, standing up and pacing around the tent. It was from her sister Vaella, written in her small and neat handwriting….her sister never entrusted her words to a Maester and always wrote them herself.
Its contents were, in short, not good. Her sister reported that rumors were spreading across the realm that their mother had ordered the attempted assasination of their uncle Vaekar in the Reach, with rumors saying one of the killers had named their mother before he was killed….in sight and hearing of well over a hundred souls. Her sister made no mention of whether or not this was true….and she didn't need too, Lianna knew immediately. Her sister ended rather callously with the assurance that their uncle was not well liked among the realm and ‘’none will care’’.
She crumpled the scroll in her hands and collapsed to her bed, suddenly exhausted as she sat down.
It came without warning…great sobs racked her body and the tears flowed down her cheeks as she shook lightly, holding herself like a little girl.
She worked so hard….for years she had worked so hard, so many late nights and long journeys to repair her mothers reputation, to end the various wars her mother ignored….she had argued ceaselessly with her mother dozens of times to try and bring some semblance of justice and honesty to her role as Master of Laws.
And it was all for nothing.
Everything she had done…she had worked for, her mother would always destroy it, and when she did think she was doing something good…that she had won her mother over…she found herself an unwitting and unwilling pawn.
She never truly listens She thought to herself as she softly sobbed, her mother had never taken her counsel seriously, or cared that her actions could undo all of her hard work.
Suddenly she heard a noise outside her tent.
‘’Princess.’’ The voice of Nakados Tendryis called out hesitantly.
‘’Come in.’’ She said, quickly wiping her eyes, trying to steady her voice.
He walked in, hesitating when he saw her…her eyes clearly red.
‘’It is a bad time….my pardon...’’ He began but Lianna shook her head.
‘’Stay.’’ She said, almost desperately.
‘’It is not my business…but I heard….well I heard…..I would be a poor brother-by-law if I did not check.’’ He said.
She told him everything, completely unprompted.
She told him of the war between the Ironborn and the Lannisters, the peace council between Tyrell and Baratheon and what had transpired and who was to blame, she told him of the trial, of the attempted killing of Vaekar……she talked for what seemed like hours, of her childhood, growing up in King's Landing with her grandfather and grandmother, away from her mother…how she felt she scarcely knew her…she talked about her sister Syaella and a great many other things.
The whole time Nakados said nothing, standing patiently.
He listened.
Noone had ever listened to her like that,certainly not her mother and not her husband Ronnel who it seemed barely cared what she was feeling or acknowledged her as a person at all, making everything about him, always requesting more gold, more men, more honors for his men, coming to her bed chamber as if he had not ignored her for much of the day, always complaining and never asking about her. He was not a bad man…but there was little love between them.
When she had finished Lianna wiped her eyes once more, feeling a fool ‘’I am sorry…..I…you did not wish to hear my ramblings.’’
‘’May I sit?’’ He asked simply.
She nodded and he sat beside her on the bed, straightening his cloak, smelling of crushed mint which she knew he chewed regularly.
‘’When I was a young man I served in the City Guard of Mylenos for a time, a Pentoshi settlement.’’ He began before continuing.
‘’As most settlements across the Narrow Sea and in the Free City it was run by slavers, or at least slave owners…..as a man of Braavosi stock I found the practice abhorrent…but what could I do….I was but a simple guardsman with little power……no, I could do nothing but my duty, which was to follow orders from these men….these slavers.’’
Lianna listened intently, she knew little of the Free Cities except that slavery was a well established practice.
‘’I followed their orders….but I also followed my beliefs…..slaves accused of crimes would often be left for days at a time tied hand and foot to a post in the town square, in the sweltering heat….for days at a time as I said or even until death in some cases.’’
‘’I would watch as my comrades tied them up….I could do little to stop them…but whenever I had a chance I would offer my canteen to these men when I was sure none were looking….a small kindness in an ocean of evil.’’ He continued.
‘’In time I became an officer in the City Watch…and I used my influence to if not end, reduce the instances of leaving these men to die in the heat for minor offenses….I did what little I could….small kindnesses in an ocean of evil.’’
‘’What I mean to say Princess is that we cannot always choose who we serve…or stop the cruel practices of the powers we bend our knee too…but what we can do is to is make sure that some small amount of justice is done when we have the opportunity to do so…until we have the opportunity to do more….and your time is coming Princess.’’ He finished.
Lianna sat there in silence for a moment, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes.
‘’You speak wisely…..you must have many more stories…from across the Narrow Sea.’’ Lianna said.
‘’Some few Princess…’’ The man said humbly, standing, bowing his head and beginning to withdraw.
Lianna stood up without thinking ‘’’Wait.’’
He turned and faced her.
‘’I would very much like to hear more of them.’’ She said, looking into his eyes, wondering not for the first time how her sister could spurn him.
Surprising herself once again she took him by the arms, embracing him.
His lips tasted of mint.
Some weeks later they would finally arrive at Sunspear, where Lianna would bid a tearful goodbye to her younger sister following the marriage feast at Sunspear. Unbeknownst to her however, she was not the only one involved in secrecy, and back in King's Landing, an important plan was transpiring.
5th Moon, 69 AC
Queens Ballroom, Red Keep, Kings Landing
Laena looked at her guest with thinly veiled disgust as the woman held the wine cup with two hands, drinking from it as if she were an infant or an Ironborn sailor, with about as much success as either as much of it spilled on the dress she had been given.
The gods….if they are real….are well and truly mad Laena thought to herself, giving her daughter Vaella a look, ascertaining she felt the same.
The guest in question was named Rhaelle Turgon, an Essosi noblewoman from the hinterlands of Volantis….the rider of the dragon Chalfyre….and an utter imbecile.
It's a wonder no one has slit her throat yet The Queen thought as she watched her struggling to use a fork and knife to cut the honeyed venison, almost drooling on the table.
The whole situation had began when Vaellas network of spies across the narrow sea had reported back the locations of the so called ‘’eastern dragons’’ at the Queens behest, who hoped to reclaim at least one of them to increase her power in the face of her siblings plotting.
There were three such dragons. By far the most significant revelation was that Meraxes, former dragon of Rhaenys, her grandfather Aegon the Conqueror's sister and the dragon her brother had attempted to claim almost 2 decades earlier had emerged from the Smoking Sea after years of isolation and had been claimed by the Lady Rebagyr, sovereign of Mantarys. Similarly, her spies reported that the white and gold dragon Aelesar, that had belonged to her uncle Matarys, flying away after his death had also been found in Mantarys, now almost 25 feet in length and bonded with a woman dragonrider who had been given a place in Lady Rebagyr’s court.
While Laena found the prospect of the realm of Mantarys having two dragons under its influence somewhat disconcerting, and would have preferred to regain one of these two extremely powerful dragons, she had to admit the prospect was unlikely, the Lady of Mantarys would obviously not abandon her court nor would she allow the other dragonrider to leave, the plan would not work on them…Mantarys was too far, too shrouded in secrecy to accurately plan.
That left one single dragon left…..the dragon Chalfyre, much smaller than the other two, with her spies reporting it was just over a dozen feet, if that.
It was the only dragon to not have been hatched by a Targaryen, and unlike Meraxes and Aelesar had never had a Targaryen rider.
Her daughter's spies reported the story of the dragon's birth and taming with as much accuracy as they could, given that there were many countless variations of the tale.
The tale had been reported as such. Before the dragon Meraxes had flown further east to Mantarys…it had resided in Volantis for a time, bonded with a dragonrider under the employ of the most powerful of the three Triarchs of Volantis.
During its time there, a single pale green egg was hatched, and it was given to the Priests and Priestesses of R'hllor in the Temple of the Lord of Light in Volantis’s great plaza in an attempt to hatch.
All attempts to hatch the egg had failed, and eventually relations soured between the Red Priests and Triarch Donaro with the red priests preaching dangerous sermons to the slaves and increasing the size of their private slave army…the Fiery Hand. Meraxes and its rider were sent by the Triarch to burn down the great temple, which the massive dragon did with ease, burning nearly two thousand priests, slaves and slave warriors alive that day in a fiery inferno.
The dragon egg….which had been placed on a pillar of dragonglass in the heart of the temple was found unharmed, still on its intact pillar amongst the smoldering ruins and corpses around it, warm to the touch, and as a crowd approached the egg cracked and split open, and a small dragon was hatched.
The hatchling was quickly seized by the Triarch, and kept in a small pit, where for years he tried to find someone to bond with the creature, as Meraxes had flown off from Volantis after its riders death, likely at the cause of the Volantene triarch and the city wanted another, more trustworthy dragonrider.
The test was simple….any freeborn man or woman that could get the hatchling to eat out of their hand and perch upon their shoulder would be given ownership of the dragon, a fine manse near the palace, within the Black Walls of the city….given honors, titles, and a place in the Triarchs court…in exchange for their loyalty and the use of their dragon.
Hundreds of ambitious men and women tried to do the seemingly simple task….but the dragon was extremely erratic and wary….and in those first years there were no shortage of burned and scorched fingers as strong warriors, wealthy merchants, and wise priests and priestesses failed to bond with the dragon…and as it grew in size so to did the risk, and it was not uncommon for challengers to lose whole hands and in some cases even arms to burns and bites.
These challenges became a sort of entertainment, with tickets being sold for spectators to watch the maimings and see the dragon…the Triarchs had long since abandoned any hope of the dragon being claimed after hundreds of failures but the spectacle put coin in many a pocket.
One day a Summer Islander warrior visited the city, nearly 8 feet tall if the tale could be believed, and wearing a cloak of golden feathers, and armed with purchased valyrian glyph necklaces, rings and bracelets..a huge crowd attended, sure that this was the day the dragon would be claimed…..and they were right.
But it was not by the impressive foreigner….following an attempt to loudly recite a valyrian chant and to hold his hand out, offering meat charred with the legendary goldenwood of the Summer Isles…..he was sent squealing from the pit, holding his burnt and smoldering ruin of a hand.
If the tale could be believed, a simple minded Volantene girl…..the daughter of a former Triarch…. who had leaned over the railing to see what all the fuss was about, fell over the railing and into the pit.
The crowd both shouted and held their breath….sure they were about to see the idiot girl roasted alive and torn apart.
The dragon approached, its small but sharp fangs bared and flame welling at the back of its throat.
The simple minded girl said nothing….for she could barely speak Valyrian…much less understand the situation….instead holding out her hand, holding a stick of fried goat which was sold at the entrance.
The dragon lunged forward and a roar went through the crowd…..leaning forward to watch the entertaining maiming that was surely to come.
And quickly grew silent.
For it was the girl, not the dragon that struck first. Frightened, she lashed out towards the dragon with a shout, hitting it atop the head with several strikes with the stick of goat as an old woman might strike a child with a spoon.
The dragon, completely perplexed recoiled back in shock, shaking its head before at last readying itself for another lunge, once again an excited murmur ran through the crowd, and once again went quiet in shock.
For the dragon, instead of tearing her to pieces, scarfed down the goat, roared a torrent of fire into the air and coiled around the idiot girl, who began to giggle in delight and pet it. Following this, the somewhat bewildered Triarchy still made good on their promise, arranging the woman a marriage and giving her her own palace.
Whether or not the tale was true Laena could not say….one thing was certain however….the woman was an idiot….and she had a dragon.
When this story had reached her, Laena had sent her own daughter and spymaster Vaella to personally travel to Volantis on the back of her dragon Narrah with the fastest galley in Kings Landings small fleet to convince the dragonrider to return to King's Landing with her, subtly if possible as the Triarchy of Volantis would never consent to losing their dragon if they were aware of it.
The task proved easier than they could have hoped for. Vaella learned the triarchs permitted the girl to leave the city once a week and fly the dragon near the sandy islands that dotted the mouth of the river Rhoyne as they believed exercise and feeding from the holy river would cause the dragon to grow faster.
Aware of this knowledge, Vaella bided her time, waiting offshore before flying her dragon to the location. The young woman was extremely shocked when she came across Vaella and her much larger red dragon, as in her mind, her dragon must have been the only one in the world, the dragon Chalfyre was similarly interested in seeing another of its species. The girl's escort did nothing to intervene…having been paid off by the Princess Vaella.
From here it was a relatively easy task to coax the girl…or rather the dragon into following Narrah back to the ship and confine the woman and her small dragon below the deck…..all but abducting her and taking them back to King's Landing.
When they at last returned to the city, the girl was coaxed into mounting Chalfyre and flying to the dragonpit where the small dragon was quickly confined. Laena had not yet made the trip to the Dragonpit to observe the creature…but her dragon keepers said the small pale green dragon with gray horns was incredibly wild and volatile…already severely burning and wounding three dragon keepers with its wild thrashing and random torrents of fire…and despite its size becoming one of the most difficult dragons to control. The Queen had not been surprised, the beast obviously had to be mad and abnormal to bond with such a woman. Following her dragons confinement, Rhaelle was subtly brought to the Red Keep and had been there for two days.
Laena was grateful for the fact that Lianna was not present….it would have been hard to explain why a foreign dragonrider was in the Red Keep….she would have enough to speak to her daughter about after those incompetent fools botched Vaekars killing in Blackbridge…., but even so the Queen had made sure the woman stayed out of sight, keeping her in a small chamber and even now eating in the much smaller Queens Ballroom, a hall with beaten silver mirrors. She very much doubted Volantis would ever learn the woman was here, or have the resources to identify her dragon.
She was shaking from her thinking by a soft whimpering of the simple minded woman, who was holding herself while slowly rocking in her chair.
A nervous little bird Laena thought to herself, the woman was for all intents and purpose a mute….only knowing a few words of the Valyrian tongue…but she had not failed to make her discomfort felt…crying in the night, mumbling the Valyrian word for home and even banging her head against her bed post.
It will all be over soon She thought to herself.
Suddenly the woman spoke….a single word.
‘’C…Chalfyre.’’ She mumbled in a drawling and slow Valyrian accent, repeating herself.
‘’Would you like to see him….to see your dragon?’’ Laena responded in Valyrian.
Rhaelle nodded excitedly, slowly removing her crossed arms from her chest.
‘’Good….follow these men and they will take you to Chalfyre.’’ Laena responded..once again in Valyrian…., gesturing to two men….overseers of the Black Cells beneath the Red Keep.
The woman smiled and got up…approaching the two men, leaving her and Vaella alone at the table.
‘’She's pregnant.’’ Her daughter said rather nonchalantly…more to inform her mother than due to moral concerns.
Laena looked at the woman, still smiling and standing next to the guards….there was indeed a small bump…she had known of course but she and her daughter had never spoken of it.
‘’So she is.’’ Laena said, pausing for a moment to look her daughter in the eyes.
‘’A dragon will never take another rider so long as its master lives…..dispose of her.’’ Laena said…no trace of emotion in her voice.
Vaella nodded to the two men who led the woman out of the Queens Ballroom.
The Queen of Skulls returned to her seat, finishing the last of her porridge as the simple minded woman was led down a dark flight of stairs, a smile on her face as she marched downwards to her death.
