Aeron V
29AC
Excitement, fear, anticipation, anxiety, all of those were words that described how Aeron Velaryon felt as the ship was finally moored to the great docks of Pentos. His voyage had taken just under a sennight and he was ready to step out on the docks of Pentos, and the new chapter of his life to open.
"I suppose this is goodbye Aeron," he suddenly heard his uncle Valentine say from his right. They were both in the cabin of a more comfortable barge owned by his father, though it was in his uncle's use as of now.
"I suppose it is, Uncle. Thank you for everything," Aeron said with a quick bow. He doubted how this all would have gone without him. His father was limited in just how much he could help him cross the sea. So it was mostly up to his brother Daemon and his uncle Valentine to ferry him across the water.
"Of course Aeron, do you know where you are going?" his uncle asked before bringing a glass of arbor gold to his lips.
"I do, the army should be grouped up outside of the city. I will gather the last of the soldiers on this ship and the others docking right now and make our way there," Aeron said with ease. He had meticulously planned out this part of the operation. What came next was still something he was struggling with.
'Hopefully, Maegor has some ideas,' Aeron thought with a silent sigh. He had gone over what to do with the army he assembled or even how to organize it in his head but it was all a jumbled mess. Names, insignia, battle groups, coordination, it all had to be organized.
"And then? You are in a foreign city, what are your long-term plans?" his uncle questioned him just like his brother had many moons ago, and he would give the same response as he gave his brother.
"Getting settled and organizing the army comes first, my life here can be dealt with afterward." Aeron dismissed the thoughts he was having, of needing a proper place to live and stay in the city. He already had enough on his mind, he would deal with that later.
"Very well, you best get going. The soldiers are likely already disembarking as we speak," his uncle said before getting up from the well-made chair he found himself on and making his way outside. ' No doubt to help the sailors prepare to leave,' Aeron thought with a small smile.
House Velaryon prided itself on its seafaring traditions. They were a merchant house before the Doom and had come to Westeros for trade before Aenar the Exile even thought of leaving Old Valyria. They had kept up those same roots ever since they had become more traditional lords. Keeps and castles they may have, but the sea was a home for all members of House Velaryon, from the lowliest members of the most irrelevant cadet branch to the head of the house himself. All were educated by the finest sailors the world possessed.
Aeron was somewhat of an outlier in that circumstance. He did not hate sailing but he did not particularly enjoy it either. No, what drew his eyes was history and combat. The great works of bygone maesters and kings, all describing honorable deeds and great victories in battles. He read every single book he could gather about war and he wanted nothing more than to be like the heroes he read about in those dusty leather-bound books in the library of Castle Driftmark.
'Remembered,' Aeron thought, bringing his hand into a fist. That was what Aeron desired more than anything else. To not be an afterthought, a mere footnote in history, a nobody. His father would always be remembered, as the father to a queen, the Lord of the Tides, an accomplished commander, and the very first master of ships. His brother too, Daemon was no doubt going to be a legendary figure, competent beyond measure and just as loyal. His sister would be queen one day, and her son king after her husband perishes.
That left him, a second son, with no great path set out before him. No position was handed to him on a silver platter. No, he would have to earn his place in history, and Aeron was willing to do whatever it took to achieve such a goal. For he would not let destiny dictate his fate, that was only for him to decide.
Standing up from his own comfortable wooden chair. Aeron gathered his meager belongings, his sword leaning against the small table in the room, his helmet which completed his set of castle-forged armor, and his small bag of personal belongings he brought from Driftmark. More of what he actually needed to live was sent in the cargo but his personal belongings were all on his person now.
'No more waiting, my new life awaits,' Aeron thought with a giddy smile.
…
Being escorted through the city of Pentos surrounded by hundreds of heavily armed soldiers was not an experience Aeron was expecting. Yet it was one he had gotten all the same. Apparently, the Pentoshi were wary of the army he had brought from Westeros and had mobilized the army in Pentos in preparation for their arrival. 'Smart,' Aeron thought, it was what he would do in their position.
Aeron had just gathered an army of around three thousand men and sent them into the city of Pentos, planning to meet up outside of the city walls. The Pentoshi response was perfectly justified, bringing even a hundred heavily armed and experienced soldiers into the city of Pentos could be dangerous to the city.
Either way, they were not treated with hostility. After Aeron gathered the roughly six hundred soldiers on the five and ten ships his father and Queen Visenya had loaned him. They were met by a Pentoshi commander and now were being led through the city. Toward the northern gate, where the rest of the army was currently encamped outside.
Aeron took the chance to marvel at the city around him. Wide streets, stone buildings, busy markets, it was all a stark contrast to King's Landing. 'So this is where I will be living,' Aeron thought with a smile. He could get used to the sight. The only revolting part of the impromptu tour of the city was the slaves dotting the market.
'Disgusting,' Aeron thought to himself. Slavery was long forgotten by House Velaryon and Aeron considered it a good thing. They had taken the aversion of slavery from the Andals. In Aeron's opinion, slavery was a Valyrian tradition best left forgotten.
He and his friends had shared numerous discussions on the topic. Mostly in relation to Old Valyria. Maegor shared his same disgust for the practice but he took it even further. He detested Old Valyria and called them fools for partaking in the institution at all. He decried its apparent effects on society and while Aeron was uncertain if he would go that far, he shared the same visceral disgust of the institution.
He and Maegor shared many beliefs, though Maegor was often times more extreme in them. It made for lively discussions and was the current string of hope that Aeron was pulling on. 'Mayhaps he can think of what to do with this army,' Aeron thought as the buildings began to thin out and they got closer and closer to the great walls that surrounded Pentos.
Twice as tall as those of Oldtown, the Valyrians of Old clearly knew what they were doing because the walls of Pentos put all but the grandest castles of Westeros to shame. Yet he would not get to bask in their protection for long. As the column of soldiers, he was at the head of soon passed through one of the great gates and onto the plains of Old Andalos.
The moment his horse passed through the gate, he could spot the encampment. Perhaps a mile or two outside of the city and practically bustling. The column and their Pentoshi guards led them down the well-made road toward the camp and Aeron was feeling the excitement bubble up again.
It felt real on the boat but to see all the soldiers gathered in one place. In a proper camp, it felt like all his efforts had panned out. Like all the work he had put in over the last few moons was not meaningless.
The column of men moved fast upon seeing their destination. The several-day voyage on the ships had taken a lot out of many of the men and Aeron figured most wished to get their quarters completed so they could rest and recover.
They covered the ground quickly and were soon within the bounds of the camp. It looked ramshackle and barely organized but the soldiers he brought with him were soon to disperse.
'What to do?' Aeron thought as he spotted the soldiers spread across the camp like a wave of water. Each man drifting about before Aeron heard a shout of bastard Valyrian, followed by one of rather rough Andal.
"Report here! We have your assignments for camp!" the old man roared from his position in the center of camp and the men he had brought with him all fell back into line. Tired they may be but spreading across the camp with no rhyme or reason would be a mistake.
"Lord Aeron!" a call resounded from someone behind him and Aeron swiveled on his feet, turning around in an instant. What met his eyes was a small group of men in well-made armor. No doubt the actual nobles that decided to cross the sea with him.
Walking over to where they were, Aeron braced himself for a troublesome conversation. He may be a veteran of a military campaign, but he also saw zero combat and was still only six and ten. These grizzled second sons and knights would surely be asking after leadership.
"Yes?" Aeron began, dreading the inevitable question that had given him many sleepless nights.
"Prince Maegor wishes to dine with you tonight, he told us to inform you once you entered the camp," a clearly displeased noble groaned out through grit teeth and Aeron took note of the man's tone.
'Does he feel slighted?' Aeron pondered to himself. He was merely a young second son and was immediately invited to a private meal with Prince Maegor, meanwhile, Aeron doubted that his friend would so readily bring more nobles into his life, even if they were the genuinely loyal type.
Thinking back on Maegor's ramblings about the inefficiency and incompetence of the nobles brought an involuntary smile to Aeron's face. He had spent nearly a year away from his best friend now and was deeply excited to see him again.
"Tonight? What am I to do until then?" Aeron suddenly asked.
"Prince Maegor has already devised the camp layout. You can find your tent and familiarize yourself with the Driftmark section. However, most of us nobles intend to find residency in the city itself, rather than the camp," another, much more friendly noble chimed in and Aeron thought that was a good idea. He did intend to find proper lodging in the city itself but settling in his spot in the camp would be a good start.
'So Maegor is already hard at work huh?' Aeron thought with a hand on his chin. As he moved through the camp, he noticed the distinct similarities with the section of camp Maegor carved out for his Dragonstone soldiers on Bloodstone. Clear paths, and organized tents, all but the recent arrivals looked like they had a place to be.
Seeing his friend so easily organize the men into action brought the ugly feeling of jealousy back to Aeron's mind. He had slaved away back on Driftmark organizing and planning. He had put in so much work to gather this force. Yet he could feel it begin to slip away from his grasp. 'If I ever had it in the first place,' Aeron thought bitterly before he forcefully repressed those emotions again.
He may only be six and ten but he would not let that stop him. He was well educated, having been taught by his father firsthand and reading nearly every book on war that he could get in Castle Driftmark and King's Landing. He thought of himself as capable, having actually organized this whole expedition east. He also had the presumed backing of his friend Maegor, who would no doubt help him wrangle this army together if need be.
So Aeron disposed of the jealous feelings for now. He was finally in Pentos, after moons and moons of planning and effort. He was also about to meet up with his best friend again for the first time in almost a year. It was a time for living in the present, the future could be worried about later.
…
The sight of his best friend's towering height and signature black armor with red trimming was a welcome one for Aeron. After settling into the camp and mingling with a few of the lesser lords who tagged along for the journey. He was escorted by a few guards from Dragonstone to the small manse Maegor owned on the outskirts of the city.
He used the word "small" to describe it but it was really only small in comparison to the other manses and palaces in Pentos. Compared to the manse his father called home in King's Landing. The one Maegor owned might just be double or triple the size.
Either way, Aeron was more focused on his friend rather than the palace his friend now owned. It seemed Maegor was just as elated to see him as the moment his tall friend spotted him, a beaming smile appeared on his face.
"Aeron! You have finally arrived!" Maegor said with a big, jovial smile before clasping Aeron's hand in his own. It was something they began doing a long time ago when they were still little children playing combat and fanciful card games in the garden of Queen Visenya's small manse.
"Indeed I have. This is a wonderful place you got here," Aeron said, very obviously looking around the front courtyard of the home.
"Right you are, come on now, the chefs are cooking up the best food they can now, trust me you will not want to miss it," Maegor said turning on his heel and beginning to walk away.
Aeron quickly fell into lockstep and before long his friend continued the conversation.
"I must apologize for not meeting you at the docks. I have been terribly busy lately, I hope this feast can make up for it," his friend sounded apologetic but Aeron merely basked in having someone to talk to easily again.
He had spent so long on Driftmark, away from his friends, that he was glad Maegor was not making a big deal out of their reunion.
"It is just fine, I understand being busy, think nothing of it," Aeron reassured his friend, he came here in part to help him, causing Maegor more grief would do the opposite.
"Right right," Maegor continued as they entered a small dining area, obviously designed more for private meals than for hosting large parties for feasting.
Aeron expected to see Maegor's wife, Lady Shiera Qoherys. Instead, all he saw was a lone tanned-skinned man with black hair and a clean-shaven face.
"Sorry again but I hope you do not mind if he is here too, he is a new friend and his input will be valuable," Maegor apologized again but Aeron just took the chance to look this new face up and down.
He was dressed in what was likely very fine dress for a merchant, yet he lacked the refinement Aeron expected among wealthy noblemen. He was also quite young, his face not having even a hint of a wrinkle or gray hair.
"I do not mind, what will we be speaking of?" Aeron rebounded in an instant, taking a seat across from Maegor and heeding the Pentoshi no mind.
"Ah but the army you sailed here with," Maegor said with an appreciative smile, though Aeron could feel like the smile did not fully portray his thoughts.
"Hmm yes, you have already begun organizing it right?" Aeron stated the obvious, no way the constantly bickering nobles could put together the rather organized camp Aeron saw earlier today.
"The camp at least, the proper organization of the army will likely have to come later, though it would be best to begin planning now," Maegor said as the first dish was served by a few maidservants.
"I had some preliminary ideas but I lack the authority to properly implement them outside of the Velaryon contingent, if they are any good that is," Aeron said with a bit of a sheepish tone. Truthfully he had little clue if his ideas were any good. Hopefully, he and Maegor could work out the flaws.
"Authority, hmm…" Maegor said with a hum, clearly deep in thought.
"I mean I am only six and ten, the nobles are unlikely to listen to me," Aeron continued in his sheepish tone. Actually discussing who would lead the force was more awkward than he imagined it would be.
"I suppose you are right, these men crossed the sea to serve under me correct?" Maegor suddenly asked and Aeron fought back a bit of a scowl.
Aeron wanted more than anything to lead this army. He wanted a chance to prove himself, to show the world that he could stand on his own, and earn his own glory. Yet he was not even truly able to lead the army he gathered, instead it belonged to someone else.
"Correct," Aeron said quickly, not wanting his increasing feeling of jealousy to leak through his tone.
"Then I will be the official head of this sellsword company, with you as my vice-captain," Maegor said with a cocksure smile and confidence lining his tone and Aeron was shocked.
"Pardon?" Aeron asked, still dumbfounded.
"Well… I will be in the air for most battles, hardly the best place to command an army from. Someone will have to lead the actual soldiers on the ground," Maegor deftly explained his logic and Aeron nodded along.
'That is true…' Aeron thought, trying to imagine how someone could possibly command an army from atop a dragon.
"So you will speak with my authority when I am not around as my vice-captain," Maegor said with another smile and Aeron returned with a smile of his own. It was not everything that he wanted, but it was the best start he could ask for.
"Pardon me, my prince, but are we not putting the cart before the horse? You speak of a sellsword company yet you have nothing making your group of men outside more than a mob in armor," the tan-skinned man said from Aeron's left and both he and Maegor turned to look at him.
"I suppose you are right, the nitty gritty details of the army can be worked out later but I suppose we need to actually make a Sellsword company right?" Maegor immediately rebounded and Aeron stifled the shock.
'This Pentoshi sure is brash,' Aeron thought sending another glance the tan-skinned man's way.
"Pardon me Maegor, but who is this man?" Aeron had to ask.
"Oh, he is Rego Draz, a new friend of mine. One of his pupils will be the quartermaster of the Sellsword company when it forms, for now, he is here to help us figure out exactly how to afford this small army," Maegor said with a proud-looking smile on his face and Aeron stared down the Pentoshi again.
"Regardless, Rego is correct, we need to properly create this sellsword company, only then can we really start preparing," Maegor said with an apprehensive tone in his voice this time, shifting quickly from the jovial one he had before.
"Prepare for what?" Aeron asked suddenly. 'Was there war with a free city on the horizon? Skirmishes with Braavos maybe?' Aeron thought to himself.
"The Dothraki are preparing for a campaign, one aimed directly here," Maegor said with a no-nonsense look on his face and Aeron's blood went cold.
"Oh…" was all Aeron could mutter as his mind began racing with ideas once more.
Maegor XV
30AC
A shriek resounding through the bustling halls of my manse sent a shiver down my spine. Shiera began her labors at the hour of the wolf and they had continued well into the morning.
'This is normal, this is normal, this is normal,' I kept thinking to myself over and over. My mother and the midwives had all reassured me of this yet being so helpless when my wife was in so much pain made me feel so weak.
I originally wished to stay in the room with Shiera, at least provide a hand to squeeze and some emotional support but I had been practically shooed away by my mother. She said, "This is a woman's matter, wait outside," before pushing me out the door.
She had arrived two days before Shiera's labors began and I had mixed feelings about it. I was glad she was here, to support Shiera and myself but I was also apprehensive of our position in the city. Which was precarious, to say the least.
"Well, you look deep in thought, thinking about some new hair-brained scheme?" I heard a sarcastic voice resound from behind me and I turned my head to see Aeron Velaryon staring back.
"Is it a hair-brained scheme to worry about your wife?" I replied with a quick snap. I was not in a particularly joking mood.
"Just your wife? What of your child then?" Aeron asked, leaning against the same wall I was currently leaning on, which provided a gorgeous view of the Bay of Pentos.
"Ugh," I groaned out. I was so consumed with fear for Shiera's well-being that I had not even come to terms with the fact that I would be a father in a few hours if all went well.
"I do not understand why you are so worried about this. What was the saying again? The birthing bed is a woman's battlefield?" Aeron continued and I resisted the urge to punch him.
"You will understand when you have a wife of your own that you care deeply for," I assured him.
Aeron paused for a long while after that. Merely joining me in my staring off at the horizon. Across the bay of Pentos and toward the Narrow Sea.
"What is it like? The knowledge that you are about to be a father?" Aeron suddenly asked in a serious tone and the shift caught me off guard.
'What is it like?' I thought to myself. I had been distracting myself with the seemingly endless work that surrounded me and I had yet to truly come to terms with the fact. My child was soon to be born and I had never really given it much thought beyond blanket excitement.
"...It frightens me greatly," I finally admitted, piecing together the thoughts in my mind.
"Frightens you?" Aeron asked, clearly perplexed at my answer.
"I feel so unready for this. To raise a child in peace and safety. Especially here," I continued my line of logic. Knowing that Aeron would catch on.
"What has you worried this time?" Aeron asked with a sigh.
"My mother being here," I clarified further. We were already in a rather precarious position in Pentos. Any more shakeups could turn the city against us. Then a massive beast landed in our courtyard for a second time.
My mother brought Vhagar down into the city just three days prior. Landing just outside of my manse next to Terrax she had since taken up what was likely temporary residence in my manse again. She was ostensibly here to aid with the delivery of her first grandchild but no doubt every Pentoshi magister and noble was shitting bricks at her appearing again.
"Why are you so fearful of these nobles and magisters?" Aeron asked with another sigh.
"It is their hospitality we are living off of. Should they turn against me, I would have to decide between moving again or fighting for this city, putting my wife and children at risk," I confessed my fears further.
"You have powerful friends here, surely it will not devolve into the magisters evicting, or rather trying to evict you," Aeron said with almost disbelief in his voice.
"Mayhaps not that exactly, but my wife has already come within a hair's breadth of being poisoned. Her handmaidens were lucky to survive the attempt." I had informed Aeron and my mother of the attempted assassination before this but that was my biggest fear. I did not want to have to treat every single Pentoshi as an enemy.
"And while I do have powerful friends, I am losing more and more of them as time passes, as more families grow suspicious of my growing influence and I burn more and more goodwill," I continued my reasoning. It was kind of shocking how quickly things had devolved from when I first struck a deal with the Prince and Magisters Gessio Brenyl and Illyrio Narrratys.
"I think you are overblowing this whole thing. Once the battle with the Dothraki is won, you will be nigh untouchable," Aeron tried to reassure me but that only made me more worried.
"Perhaps, or perhaps when the sword is no longer hanging over their neck they will grow more wary of me," I retorted with narrowed eyes.
"Enough of this, you are stressed out because your child is going to be born soon. How about we go for a nice spar? It has been a while since we have done that," Aeron finally said with a huff, standing up from his leaning position and beginning to move toward the yard.
'I guess it could not hurt,' I thought with some resignation as another cry of agony resounded across the palace.
…
As I met Aeron in another clash of our practice swords. I heard a yell sound from behind me.
"Prince Maegor! Lady Shiera has…" he began before I tuned out the rest of what he was speaking and practically threw myself off the yard.
Discarding my armor and weapons on my full sprint toward mine and Shiera's chambers. I reached the door in mere moments, my abnormal strength carrying me faster than it had ever carried me before.
I practically kicked the door down and the sight that met my eyes would stay with me forever.
A thoroughly exhausted-looking Shiera, holding a small bundle of black and red cloth in her arms, was absolutely surrounded by what were a dozen midwives at a glance.
"Well that was fast," I heard my mother say but I paid her no mind.
Instead, I made my way to the side of the bed. My stature allowed me to peek at the small tuft of silver-gold hair that became visible once I neared my wife.
"Are you alright?" were the first words I managed to get out.
"...Yes, I am just fine… wonderful even," Shiera said and I could tell she was fighting off the urge to sleep right there and then.
"...What of our child?" I asked then, apprehension and excitement filling my very being, the fright and anxiety long dispelled.
"What of our son you mean?" Shiera said with a proud smile and the word rang through my head like a stampede.
'Son... I have a son…' I thought, an ear-to-ear smile slowly rising to my face.
"Might I hold him?" I asked then, fighting the urge to cry. All my fears, all my dreadful nightmares of ending up the same way as my previous self. I had a son to dispel them all.
"Of… course," Shiera said, her tiredness sapping away her strength by the moment.
I gingerly picked up the little black ball of cloth and I stared into the deep purple eyes of my son for the very first time that day. My very being was drawn to the sight. The twin dark purple orbs were like a reflection of my own.
People began speaking around me but I ignored it all. Even my mother's distinctive voice and Aeron's happy tone of what must have been congratulations all disappeared into the fog that surrounded me. It was all so trivial.
"Maegor?" I heard Shiera say then and that finally broke me from my trance. Turning my head down to look at my exhausted wife once more.
"Shiera?" I asked in return. Awaiting her quiet response, the rest of the room became quiet as a mouse as well.
"What shall his name be?" she asked then and my mind raced as soon as the words hit my ears.
Shiera and I had discussed many, many different names for our firstborn child. If it was to be a girl, we were going to name her Visenya, in honor of my mother. Had someone asked us six moons ago we would have said Viserys for a firstborn boy, for the same reason as that of a girl. Unfortunately, history remained true and so my brother beat us to the punch.
As for other boy names, I favored names like Aerion and Baelor. Meanwhile, Shiera preferred names like Daeron and Aurane. We had discussed this back and forth over the last three moons but it all became clear to me once I looked into his eyes.
The name popped up into my head so easily then. Like the obvious choice lay before me from the very beginning.
"His name shall be Daeron Targaryen," I said then, full confidence in my tone. Turning to spot the beaming smile on my wife's face, I knew it was perfect. It honored Shiera's father and carried no bad Targaryen baggage.
"A strong name," I heard my mother say from across the bed and she gave me an approving nod.
Meanwhile, Aeron spoke from behind me. "You like my name that much huh?" he said with a sarcastic tone and got a light chuckle out of the rapidly filling room.
This is what I wanted, a life of laughter, love, and peace. I would fight to keep it but the end goal was clear to me now. I would not rest until my family could live in safety and peace.
…
Later that night, once all the celebrations were over and the guests from all over the city had filtered away. My mother, Sheira, and I all met to discuss a few things privately.
Shiera was currently holding little Daeron while sitting on the best chair we owned while me and my mother elected to stand.
"I wanted to say excellent work again, Shiera," my mother said with the largest smile I had ever seen on her face. The moment she had lifted Daeron into her arms a smile had been plastered on it and it had yet to go away, even if it did dim over the course of the day.
"Thank you, Your Grace," Shiera said with a tired smile. She had slept through much of the celebrations but she had specifically wished to be woken up for this discussion.
"So…" I began, there was no real easy way to begin this so I had to just go for it.
"What do you plan to do here, Maegor?" my mother cut me off instead and I dug deep into my mind for an answer.
"It is time to change strategies, to what I do not know," I admitted then. It became clear to me once the sun disappeared over the horizon that I had been acting foolishly. I needed to rethink my strategy and plan.
"Are you finally beginning to see reason regarding your pathetic older brother?" My mother spoke my fears aloud.
I sent a letter to my brother a few days before Shiera was expected to start her labors. Asking him to come here and visit for the birth of my first child. He never arrived. Needless to say, it was concerning.
"I do not know about reason but keeping all of our eggs in one basket is a poor play," I retorted then. I was not going to give up all hope on my brother. But I needed backup plans just in case. I could not be reliant on his goodwill.
"Then what is the goal?" Shiera asked then, even in her exhausted state, her mind remained sharp enough to ask poignant questions.
"For now, membership to the conclave," I said flatly. Securing our position in Pentos should be the first move. Properly assuming more power could be left for future endeavors but I refused to let them evict my family especially when we were in such a vulnerable state.
"You will need to tread carefully, my son," my mother said after that, though she was actually looking at Shiera. When my mother learned of the assassination attempt and how close Shiera had gotten to being poisoned… she was apoplectic. She flew in like a bat out of hell and the lecture Shiera had received was historic.
"Indeed, we will be," I said, not wanting to bring up the metaphorical dragon in the room.
"Your Grace, will you be remaining in Pentos this time?" Shiera asked the question I did not want to and I was thankful to her for it.
"I… I do not know," my mother admitted her uncertainty and it was an alien look on my mother, whom I had seen act in full confidence for so long.
"As much as it pains me to say it, I think it would be best if you left again," I forced out and both my mother and my wife's heads snapped up to stare at me.
"What do you mean?" they said in unison.
"We remain in the same dangerous position. Ensuring that Tyanna was put to death, along with bringing an army into the city burnt a lot of trust and goodwill, especially when I began making threats and giving ultimatums. Bringing another dragon into the city long term, and one of Vhagar's size no less would surely set off alarm bells all over the city. Believe me Mother, I want you here more than anything else, but I think it might be too soon," I finished my improvised speech and I hated every word of it.
Having my mother around would be such a boon it would be hard to fathom. Vhagar would make the coming battle with the Dothraki a cakewalk. My mother was a capable political thinker and was also well-versed in poisons and magics. Frankly, she was a queen on the chess board but I could not play her yet.
Besides all that, actually having my family united and in one place was something I so very deeply desired. I wished my brother would have visited, maybe even brought along little Rhaena, Aegon, and Viserys to spend some time here. Yet politics were getting in the way of that.
"That makes sense, I shall return to Dragonstone once more," my mother made a split-second decision and Shiera balked at it,
"Your Grace, surely we can find a way for you to stay here," she said, practically pleading with her to stay and I could not blame her. My mother could smoke out any other potential assassination plots and even continue Shiera's education here.
"No, I will not put you in danger for my feelings, besides. If I am on Dragonstone, it means His Grace, cannot have it," my mother tacked on the end with an evil smile and I smirked at the thought. My mother was regaining her confidence.
"When will you leave then?" Shiera asked the next question on the tip of my tongue.
"I think either on the morrow or the next day, I wish to spend some time with my grandson," my mother said, dispelling the dark expression on her face and replacing it with a true smile as she took little Daeron from the arms of Shiera.
The sight before me was one that I would cherish for the rest of my days. I almost filed away a note to have it turned into a painting or tapestry one day. My little family all together. With a brief moment of peace and happiness.
Unfortunately, I would have to emphasize the word temporary. Because just a sennight after the birth of Prince Daeron Targaryen. A messenger arrived carrying a message from Khal Temmo, who had just been named the Stallion Who Mounts the World. "Surrender or Die," was all it said.