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Chapter Text

King Viserys, the First of his Name, has not spoken to any of his family for nearly three years. 

Not since he divorced Aemma and signed the annulment contract that granted her and their only living child, Princess Rhaenyra, dominion over the island of Dragonstone and everything of Valyrian heritage; rejected Laena Velaryon as a possible second wife and chose Alicent Hightower after she was found unchaperoned in his rooms; and was disavowed by his younger siblings, Daemon and Alyssa, for being a coward and a traitor to his blood. 

The King had sent countless letters begging, threatening and bargaining and they had all been ignored - instead sending back a Maester's curt scroll informing him of the reception of said letters. Still, he continued to send invites whenever he could, hoping that his stubborn and petty kin would put aside their grievances and join him in merriment over the growth of their house. The feast he threw when Alicent was announced to be with child, two moons after their wedding; requests to join the Queen in her confinement as the labor neared; the week of celebrations when Aegon was born hale and healthy; the ball to celebrate Aegon's first name-day and now the hunt for his second name-day. 

They were all ignored too. 

Alicent had struggled too, especially over Rhaenyra's callous dismissal. It wasn't Alicent's fault that she was found exiting his rooms and the rumors spread like wildfire across King's Landing, essentially forcing them to wed to protect her honor and reputation - she had just been reading to him, fully clothed and maintaining a respectful distance! But alas, the gossip mill of the Red Keep stopped for no one, and Viserys was not about to let an innocent maiden suffer the consequences for it, certainly not the daughter of his dearest friend. 

Not that it mattered to Rhaenyra as she hardened her heart against them and refused to attend their wedding or any of the following events. She didn't even send a letter of congratulations when news of the pregnancy were sent out, nor did she come when Alicent was nearing her confinement, even though his young wife requested her presence so she could be comforted by her dearest old friend during the labor. He'd never thought Rhaenyra could be so cruel as to abandon her friend during such a time, and yet every letter Alicent sent, much like his own, came back unopened.

News from Dragonstone came mostly from the reports of other regions and gossip. Viserys learned of the ash harvest in Dragonstone and their profits by selling to the North and the Vale only when Lord Tyrell came to court to complain that since those regions were able to produce their own food now, they were buying less quantities from the Reach. He learned of the dragonglass trade when one of the stonemasons that worked with him on his Valyrian model commented that merchants from across the Narrow Sea were paying large sums for the metal to make jewelry and that it might make a nice addition to the model. He learned that the Targaryens of Dragonstone had opened a house of learning and a house of healing on the island to tend to those too poor and too common to deserve a Maester's attention and welcomed scholars and healers from all over the Known World when the Maesters from the Citadel complained that it was an affront to their institution. 

Viserys listened and nodded as a good king should but eventually had to remind the complainers that there was nothing he could do. The contract he signed ensured that the Crown had no direct authority over Dragonstone and its designs. Seven Hells, he didn't even have the authority to command his daughter to stop being childish and visit him! 

Aemma and Rhaenyra he could understand being angry with him, but Daemon had stopped coming too. Where once Viserys would call him back after every exile and his brother would come flying to reunite with him, now Daemon seemed completely unwilling to come near King's Landing. Not even the promise of a hunt in the Godswood - just the servants and the two sons of Baelon the Brave - was enough to convince him to return to his side. There were sighting of Caraxes in the Free Cities every so often, but his restless brother seemed to have settled on Dragonstone quite nicely with Aemma and Rhaenyra- though Viserys couldn't imagine why Aemma was putting up with him. He was sure that Daemon was turning his rooms into a brothel and was wreaking havoc on their ancestral keep, and that couldn't be a good influence to have around his daughter. 

Gods, his daughter. 

Aegon was a spirited lad who cried and laughed just as loudly; he was the son and heir he had prayed for and tried so hard to obtain with his beloved Aemma for over ten years; the court rejoiced at his birth and the secured succession... and yet Viserys had developed an emptiness in his chest that he hadn't had when Rhaenyra was born. Rhaenyra was born surrounded by Targaryens who welcomed her with warm smiles and a golden egg in her cradle that Daemon and Alyssa had conspired behind King Jaehaerys' back to obtain; she brightened the world with her arrival and charmed every person in the Red Keep, from nobles to the servants to knights. He couldn't help but feel that Aegon's birth felt more bittersweet than pure happiness like when Rhaenyra came into the world. Viserys was the only Targaryen to welcome him and the egg in his cradle had gone cold in less than a moon - he had written to Rhaenyra and Daemon and even Alyssa to come to King's Landing to pick an egg for the newest Targaryen babe and they had all ignored that request too, forcing Viserys to wonder into the Dragonpit for the first time since Balerion's death.

It was only when he stepped foot in the empty dragon pit that he truly realized how alone he was. 

All the grown dragons were in Dragonstone or Driftmark, leaving behind only a hatchery with a few eggs from Silverwing's last clutch. Half the dragonkeepers had left for Dragonstone, claiming that they had no reason to remain in King's Landing if there were no dragons to tend to and no riders to guide - only three remained to watch over the eggs. They had halted the previous orders of sheep and cattle that had been used to feed the dragons and spent most of their day working in shifts to clean out the caves now that they could do so without worrying about awakening a slumbering dragon. Viserys stood in the grand cave that had once hosted Balerion and saw nothing. No bones from meals, the chains hanging uselessly on the wall, not even a worn-out shape from where Balerion used to rest.

It was like the dragons had never existed.

Worse - they had all abandoned him. 

...

Court had been in session for over an hour and already Viserys was close to nodding off on the Iron Throne. 

He shifted to adjust his position and bit back a hiss when another wayward blade painfully dug into his side. It had almost become a habit, as if the swords were personally out to get him. Already he had lost three fingers to the infection that the Maesters could not seem to contain - there was no leech or foul-smelling concoction that could drain the pus and ease the pain - and by the way it was climbing just past his wrist, he feared it would not be long before his lower arm had to go too. 

The herald announced a new petitioner, Lord Balon Swann from the Stormlands, who was around Viserys' age and dressed formally but the dark bags under his eyes made him look older and more haggard. "Your Grace." He bowed and clasped his hands in front of him. "We have sent word of the worsening pirate situation, and no reply has reached us - both myself and Lord Baratheon sent ravens asking for aid to deal with this issue and we were ignored, so I saw no other choice but to come and ask for your assistance in person." 
"The Crown did indeed receive your messages, Lord Swann." Otto said from his place beside the throne. Viserys looked at him confused, for he hadn't been told about such a thing. "We reviewed your situation and didn't find any reason to extend aid." 
"They have pillaged entire over five villages and killed a hundred of our men, raped our women and took our maidens and young boys to sell into slavery in Essos." Lord Swann protested. "How long until they grow bolder and attack keeps instead? How long before they start killing noblemen and taking noble ladies captive?" He turned to the King, who watched with the shock of someone who hadn't expected to be addressed at all. "Your Grace, I beseech you as Protector of the Realm to aid the good people of the Stormlands, your loyal subjects." 

Viserys stared blankly at Lord Swann, his hands tightening on the armrests of the throne as he tried to think of what to say. Surely it can't be that bad if Otto saw no cause for concern. He trusted his friend's - and goodfather's - judgement. Pirates hadn't been a problem since his uncle Aemon dealt with the myrish fleet that besieged Tarth all those years ago, where he was killed by a well-aimed crossbow bolt - the Pale Prince's death led Baelon the Brave to mount Vhagar and burn them all in retaliation, killing hundreds of them and even flying to Myr to demand the officer's heads. Viserys shivered at the idea of such violence darkening the shores of his realm again, but he also despised the idea of angering the Free Cities and provoking them to escalate even more. 

The silence stretched for a long minute as Viserys considered all the terrible outcomes.

"We shall discuss this matter in the Small Council and send our verdict to Lord Baratheon and yourself, Lord Swann." Otto thankfully answered, putting an end to the painful silence. "You may go." 

Lord Swann's face dropped, staring at the Hand and the King with a mix of disbelief and anger. "Let it be written that I have done my duty and informed the ruler of the problems his subjects face." He invoked to the court scribes and hurriedly bowed before storming out of the throne room.

Alicent stared blankly at the canopy of her bed as the Grand Maester patted her swollen stomach for his examination. 

She was in the last moon of her second pregnancy - and thought this one had been easier because she knew what to expect, it didn't make it any less unpleasant. Her breasts were sore, her ankles were swollen, foods she enjoyed suddenly sent her vomiting, she found herself crying over the smallest things and as her stomach grew it became harder to move around the Red Keep. Even walking to the castle Sept - not the Grand Sept in the city, her father had forbid her from going out once she was first found pregnant with Aegon, he didn't want any disgruntled smallfolk mob to attack her and risk losing the pregnancy - took twice as long as before and she required the help of her sworn shield to kneel at the altar and then get back up again. 

Grand Maester Mellos finished his examination and congratulated her for the pregnancy, reassuring her once again that she would have no trouble giving birth to another healthy babe. When he first told her that, almost two years ago, she had wondered if he had said the same thing to the former Queen too. As she had gotten nearer to the birth of her first child, she often found herself having nightmares of something going wrong during the labors and being cut open on the King's orders like Aemma Arryn almost had been. The Maester and his acolytes were to attend her labor along with her two ladies-in-waiting to provide moral support and pray to the Mother for her and the child's well-being - but the person she had wanted to be there the most was ignoring her. 

Alicent had sent endless letters to Rhaenyra apologizing, explaining what happened, pleading to any sense of love she might still have for her dearest friend to not abandon her now as she faced the childbed. Back when she was a maiden, she imagined herself marrying a handsome, gallant knight who would love her sweetly and her dearest friend holding her hand while she labored to bring the product of her wifely devotion to the world... but then she was caught in the King's bedchamber and hastily married to him in an embarrassingly underattended ceremony, forced to lie on her back while he rutted into her and whispered his former wife's name, then had to go through pregnancy and childbirth alone because Rhaenyra was being petty and refusing to answer to her. At least Aegon had the decency to come quickly - even though the pain was unlike anything she felt before and she was dreading having to go through it again so soon. 

Alicent had only been doing her duty, what was expected of her - something Rhaenyra would never understand, apparently. Rhaenyra remained unmarried and there were no news of a betrothal even though she had come of age the past autumn and thus had become the Lady Paramount of Dragonstone in her own right. Instead, there were news of Rhaenyra and Laena Velaryon flying on their dragons to Braavos and Pentos accompanied by the Princess Alyssa, who introduced them to the merchant princes and magisters of the cities, personal friends of hers. The two young ladies were said to be the perfect image of Valyrian beauty - charming yet dangerous, steel under silk - and used their charms to bolster the trade between the islands of Dragonstone and Driftmark and the Free Cities.

"I want to fly with you on dragonback, see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea and eat only cake." Rhaenyra had said to Alicent once, in what seemed like a different life altogether. But those were supposed to be the silly dreams of maidens that eventually gave way to the harsh reality of marriage and childbirth - and yet there was Rhaenyra, living out her dream without sparing a thought for her old friend. No, Rhaenyra had to be a glutton and delight in everything she wanted, accumulating riches, friends, land and connections and leaving nothing for the rest. Alicent had listened to her father complain endlessly about Dragonstone's growing power and wealth, their trading with other regions of Westeros and the heathen Free Cities, and the dragons that they had no access too - too much power for a spoiled, selfish girl to have, he had growled as he threw into the fire another message from an informant that could not find a way to sneak into the island. 

Aegon's egg had gone cold almost as soon as it was placed in his crib, turning to stone before his first name-day had come. Neither the King nor his Heir had dragons under their command - a worrying difference compared to the three tamed and many wild dragons that nested in Dragonstone, the three on Driftmark, and the Cannibal in Volantis. Alicent had tried to appeal to Rhaenyra again once the petrified egg was returned to the Dragonpit, writing that her son should have the opportunity to fly on dragonback just like she had promised to do with her once upon a time, that it was her son's right as a Targaryen, that Aegon didn't deserve to suffer from her coldness just because she was mad at the King and her. That letter also went unanswered and so Aegon still had no dragon. 

The babe kicked her ribs, bringing Alicent out of her musings and making her hiss. 

She'd make the mistake of complaining about the kicking when she was pregnant with Aegon, and Viserys' eyes got misty as he said that it was normal and that "Aemma would always feel such joy despite the pain, because it meant that the babe was alive". She never complained about the pregnancy out loud again. This is your duty, a necessary sacrifice, and you must bear it. Wasn't that what the beloved Queen Aemma had said to Rhaenyra before those last labors? That bearing children was their duty, and they must face it with a stiff lip? Aemma Arryn had failed in her duties as Queen: she bore no living male child, took everything she could when the King wisely cast her aside, and was now letting her daughter escape those same duties too.

She knew Viserys probably hadn't thought about the underlying meaning under his comment and yet the thoughtlessness grated at Alicent that much more. She was his current wife, the one that had borne him a healthy, male heir, and yet it seemed the Falcon Queen had taken up so much room in the King's heart that there was nothing left for Alicent. Still, she was not treated poorly - she was not beaten or yelled at or thrown around like some other unfortunate ladies that could never hide the bruises properly - and so Alicent brushed off Viserys' impulsive comments and went about her day.

With only three ladies-in-waiting and two knights - all of them related to her by some degree or from the Reach - it was a little easier to handle the Queen's duties, but at the end of the day Alicent was often too exhausted to call for Aegon's nursemaids to bring him to her. Maybe that is why it seemed that he had suddenly grown up so much overnight. They would be throwing a three-day hunt in the Kingswood to celebrate his second name-day, a grand celebration fit for the Heir to the Throne, and they had sent invitations to Dragonstone as well. 

Maybe this time she will come, Alicent thought as she tried to get comfortable enough to sleep, maybe she will come and she will have to answer to me.

On the island of Dragonstone, things changed a lot since Rhaenyra became its Lady.

It was difficult to adapt from suddenly having one lady-in-waiting to ten. 

Rhaenyra had been hesitant in accepting a lady from the Reach at first, a bitter taste in her mouth still making her gag whenever she thought of Alicent's betrayal, but Melissa Beesbury was Lord Lyman's granddaughter, and he was one of the few council members she genuinely trusted, so she accepted. It turned out the young lady was good with figures and a had a keen mind for budgeting that must have been a family trait. Rhaenyra also loved the honey that arrived with Lady Melissa, the best export of Honeyholt, so that was an added bonus. 

Other ladies had joined her entourage as well. Johanna Westerling, her sworn shield Ser Harrold's niece, who was just as honorable as her uncle; Sabitha Vypren from the Riverlands, who looked up to Visenya and Alyssa and took up sword fighting; Maris Baratheon, Laena's second cousin by her mother Rhaenys, with a quiet disposition that became a thunderstorm when she was angry; and Catelyn and Rosaline Strong, the daughters of the Master of Laws. They joined the other ladies from the Crownlands - Celaena Celtigar, Vera Sunglass, Gillian Bar Emmon, and the young Elinda Massey - and Wylla Manderly from the North. 

Rhaenyra wanted to be surrounded by people she could trust - not surrounded by snakes like in King's Landing. She wanted a household like Ñamar Alyssa's - eclectic in their origins and talents and willing to travel all the way from Volantis to King's Landing to help their mistress - and the love the common people had for Uncle Daemon - the kind of loyalty where two thirds of Goldcloaks followed him to Dragonstone without hesitation and the smallfolk of King's Landing cheered whenever he was out and about. It was her first lesson in governance, imparted by her mother, Lady Regent Aemma Arryn, shortly after their arrival on Dragonstone three years ago when she confessed her troubles over tea and lemon cakes. 

"It is not a bad thing to want, sweet girl, but you cannot expect such loyalty to grow out of nothing." 
"How do you mean?" 
"Half of Alyssa's household were given to her as slaves and she liberated them and showed them kindness and priviledges; Daemon took hedge knights without purpose and gave them training and a cloak to serve under. You are a Princess and soon to be the Lady of Dragonstone, so every person in Westeros owes you deference and respect. The kind of loyalty that Daemon and Alyssa command must be earned, not demanded." 
Rhaenyra frowned as she started to think about her mother said. In the Red Keep, nobles had all but thrown themselves at her feet to gain her favor and Rhaenyra had dismissed them and instead spent most of her time with Alicent, who she thought to be honest and her actual friend. That had turned out to be a lie. "Like Jaehaerys and Alysanne? With the roads and the public fountains?" 
Aemma smiled at her daughter and nodded. "Exactly like that, though we may have to think of different boons to offer those you wish to be loyal to you. Giving coin away heedlessly to buy loyalty will not be sustainable in the long run, so we must think about what each person or group wants." 

And they did. 

They took in the daughters of less wealthy houses that could not afford a large dowry for them and promised to find them a worthy match and supply the dowry themselves; they also sent out ravens to known "misfit" ladies, like Sabitha Vypren, and offered space to practice those skills that had been deemed "unladylike" and tutoring in those skills as well as managing a keep; Lyman Beesbury had asked that they take his granddaughter because the Hand was being very insistent about finding more ladies for his Queen daughter's pitiful household and Lord Strong could see the writing on the wall and feared his daughters would be next to be demanded.  

Prosperity, freedom, sanctuary. 

Those were also the words that some of Daemon's envoys repeated around King's Landing in order to populate the growing port city that was becoming the center of Dragonstone's exports. A city needs more than a harbor master and fishermen - it needs barmaids, bakers, seamstresses, and yes, brothels too. Daemon's former mistress had refused to run another brothel and follow him to Dragonstone, so he turned to a previous favorite and promised steady coin and good conditions for whatever girls wanted to get out of King's Landing. Alyssa, who was familiar with trade by virtue of living in close proximity with Saera Targaryen, insisted on improving the safety and hygiene of any brothel to be established as well as ensuring that the women working there received their fair share of the coin and were protected from any clients that wanted to take more than they had been allowed to. 

Aemma had written to the matrons of the orphanages she still sent coin to and asked that they gather the older children - those old enough to sit still and learn a trade - and send them to Dragonstone, where they would be taken care of and taught a craft free of charge. The matrons, always overworked and underfunded with the number of orphans on the streets of King's Landing, sent them with pleasure and a warning to be on their best behavior. Master craftsfolk had started to arrive and settle on Dragonstone as the island began to grow, and they were willing to have an additional set of helping hands and teach someone the trade. 

Rhaenyra spent most of those three years learning and, to her delight, travelling. She learned business, budgeting, foreign diplomacy, trade laws, farm laws, and negotiating from Maester Gerardys and other tutors that had come from Volantis at the request of Alyssa's husband, some of the best in Essos. For her fifth-and-ten nameday, Alyssa had come from Volantis and told her and Laena to pack their best outfits and follow on dragonback, where she took them to Braavos. 

That first flight over the Titan of Braavos, watching the city of canals from above had been nothing short of spectacular, and the welcoming parties they were invited to didn't disappoint either. She had grown used to seeing men and women from different places in Dragonstone, but not the level of extravagance and finery that the Sealord of Braavos received them with. Rhaenyra talked with keyholders from the Iron Bank about possible investments, gushed over the deep purple color achieved by a snail natural to Braavos and if it would be possible to import them, saw famed Braavosi courtesans and waterdancers on the narrow streets, and charmed the merchants with talk of all the goods that they were producing in Dragonstone, showing off the dragonglass sewn into her dresses and used to make her jewelry. 

Laena loved the chance to see the world too - though her thankfully dismissed betrothal with the Sealord's son did make things slightly awkward. It became less awkward when the son of the Sealord vomited on a courtesan's silk shoes and was challenged to a duel by no less than four waterdancers, one of them a woman.

"Ah, Braavos. Never change." Alyssa had sighed with nostalgia as she witnessed the debacle. She repeated something similar when they left Braavos and made a stop in Pentos along the way, where they were wined and dined by the Prince of Pentos and fawned over by the merchant nobility and received so many yards of regal silks that Syrax actually complained when it was time to carry everything back to Dragonstone. It wasn't that Syrax couldn't carry the weight, she just found it tedious and demanded an extra cow when they returned to their island. 

Now, at the age of six-and-ten and having very recently become the ruling Lady of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra was happy. 

Aemma Arryn was healthy and took over the healing and learning houses that they had established now that she wasn't regent, and she and Rhaenyra made it a point to fly together at least once a week. Daemon had been named Lord Commander of the Dragonwatch - a play on his previous title - and oversaw the safety of the growing city and the other villages as they received more and more trade, imparting justice with a firm but not unfair hand. Her ladies-in-waiting were all different and capable and thriving in Dragonstone castle, allowed to grow without the bonds of septas to dictate what a proper lady should or shouldn't do and an education that most noble men would never have. The pile of letters of marriage proposals sat in an untouched pile and she was under no pressure to even read them, assured by her mother that she didn't have to marry anyone she didn't want to and could do whatever she wanted.

Maybe that's why she was surprised when their family breakfast was interrupted by a raven just arrived from Storm's End, bearing the sigil of House Baratheon and not addressed to Maris. It was addressed to Rhaenyra, the Lady Paramount of Dragonstone and the Narrow Sea.

Her eyes burgeoned at the words penned by Lord Boremund, his initial hesitation but final resolution. 

"What is it, sweetness?" Aemma asked, worried about Rhaenyra's wide eyes. "Did something happen to Lady Elena?" Elena Carron, Maris' mother, was pregnant again in her attempt to give her husband a son and Aemma worried for the woman who was in the same position she had once been in. 
"No. Triarchy ships have been tormenting villages in the Stormlands and their request for aid to King Viserys was denied." Rhaenyra explained and Daemon scoffed and rolled his eyes at Viserys' pathetic pacifism. "They've been trying to hold them off on their own but yesterday they attacked again and..." she swallowed hard as she tried to say such an awful thing out loud, "... they took Lord Swann's niece of five-and-ten, Lady Johanna. Most likely to be sold to a pillow house in Lys." Aemma gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "The King has not answered to written nor in person requests for aid and Lord Boremund is asking for our help." 
Daemon's face went stone cold and serious. "If they are already bold enough to kidnap a noblewoman, then they will only get worse. It's already bad enough that Viserys didn't at least send ships to defend their coasts, it sends a message that Westeros is unguarded and ripe for the taking."
"Rhaenys will have probably gotten a message like this. Boremund is her uncle, not to mention her own father died fighting off the Triarchy." Aemma added.

Rhaenyra nodded decisively. "Call the banners."