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35. Visenya VII / Shiera XII
🕑 Added 2024-09-15 15:36:27 +0000 UTCVisenya VII:
32AC
The interior of the tent provided little comfort for Visenya. Mostly because she had a hard time not worrying about her family. She of course knew they would remain vigilant while she provided cover for the army’s advance into Braavosi territory but it ate at her all the same.
‘What to do,’ Visenya thought as she poured over maps and charts provided to her by Aeron Velaryon. The seahorse was still technically in charge of the army even if she slotted seamlessly into the role Maegor no doubt filled when he led the force.
It was a natural course of events when a dragonrider got involved. You could be the greatest general in history and a dragonlord would still outrank you. It was inevitable, as a dragon was more valuable than a million soldiers. ‘As it should be,’ Visenya thought with a small smile. House Velaryon was the second best when it came to this world but they were still second.
Her relationship with House Velaryon was a peculiar one. She had been very close with her uncle when she was young. Daemon Velaryon, Aethan’s father, had been a good man and uncle to them. Loyal as was possible and he had served them valiantly until the end. Yet he had died under her watch.
His fleet had departed for Gulltown before she was ready with Vhagar. Perhaps it was just poor communication and poorer weather but her uncle Daemon took a conventional battle with the Arryn fleet and it cost them all greatly.
House Velaryon was humiliated that day. Defeated by a lesser people and a smaller navy, with nearly half of their galleys sinking into the Bay of Crabs. Visenya responded in due kind, of course, the fleet stood no chance against her Vhagar and was promptly sent beneath the waves but she could not help but feel guilty. As her uncle perished in the battle.
It was only because of the efforts of a particularly brave sailor that House Velaryon did not lose their precious Seascale that day along with their beloved lord. As her uncle’s body was miraculously recovered by a sailor who was promptly rewarded with a keep and income on Driftmark.
Yet it continued to upset her when she thought about it. Her uncle was supposed to be supported by her, guarded and supported by Vhagar, there was no way their fleet could have been defeated. Yet her uncle had died because she was not there to aid him.
‘Never again,’ Visenya thought with a frown. She had sworn after the battle with the Arryn fleet that she would never allow it to happen again, even if she broke it just a decade later when her little sister died alone in Dorne.
She had thought that losing her beloved uncle was the worst pain she could feel. He was present for her entire childhood and losing him hurt. But it paled in comparison to the pain she felt when she lost her sister. Rhaenys’s death nearly broke her, it was only because of her son Maegor that she did not descend into the same squalor her brother had fallen into.
War had taken much from house Targaryen, perhaps more than it had given. The loss of Rhaenys could not be overstated. She had been the glue that kept their family together. She and Aegon always argued, even in their youth they would always disagree. It had been Rhaenys that kept their relationship close.
Now their family was in shambles, two separate branches, two sons from different mothers. It was a recipe for disaster, especially because they were no longer in the Freehold. In the Freehold it would not have mattered in the slightest. Even their small and weak house had close to a dozen branch families from what she could gather from the fragmented copies of old documents brought by Lord Aenar.
Branch families were naturally aligned, especially in the cutthroat and competitive society of the Freehold. Family bonds could not afford to be broken. Yet now, alone and unchallenged, House Targaryen had no incentive to hold itself together. Coupled with the Westerosi traditions they had picked up from their hundred years on Dragonstone. Visenya had a bad feeling about the future.
‘One thing at a time,’ Visenya thought with a sigh. She would need to speak with her son and gooddaughter more in the future. She already considered Aenys all but a lost cause. Perhaps her son could salvage something from the bumbling oaf but her house would have to reform to survive. She and her siblings had failed in their conquest, she wondered if Aegon felt the same way.
He was clearly thinking something, given that he had officially moved back to Dragonstone the day after she left. He declared that the Aegonfort was “no longer suitable for the King of the Seven Kingdoms” and he would build a “Red Keep” in its place.
Visenya agreed, of course, the Aegonfort was a pathetic creation and she could hardly believe that Aegon put up with it for so long. But she was still upset that Dragonstone had slipped back into his grasp. She would not deny it felt good denying him of the island. On the brighter side, it made her move here much more permanent. Given she had a less than zero desire to ever lay eyes on her brother again.
‘Perhaps when he is dead,’ Visenya thought with a frown. She could not go back and speak with him again. It was not possible, not after what she said. She still stood by her words of course, for she only spoke the truth. But she had burned the fraying bridge to ash, and there was no way she could stomach building a new one.
She could see herself going back for his funeral, however. Say one final goodbye to the brother she had loved once. Bid him farewell properly, unburdened by angry glares and hateful scowls. But that was still likely far off. She and Aegon may be old but House Targaryen tended to live old lives. At least when they were not killed off.
That circled around to her current problem. The Faceless Men had decided one dance with the House of the Dragon was not enough. No, they sought a final deathmatch, and Visenya would give it to them. She would tear them out, root and stem, even if she had to burn every city, farm, house, and hut in Essos to do it.
She doubted she would have to do that of course. Her burning of the House of Black and White ensured she had an enormous target on her back, perhaps even larger than the one on the back of her son. Which was exactly what she wanted, her life was far more expendable than her son’s. Even if she had no intention of dying yet.
‘After all, I have not even gotten to teach my grandchildren anything,’ Visenya thought with a wide smile. Despite her situation, and the situation of her family. Being able to see her grandchildren, her legacy, and the future of House Targaryen, was worth it all.
Now she just needed to ensure they would remain safe. She could almost understand Aegon’s abhorrence and revulsion for war. She could sympathize with it for a while now, especially after Rhaenys was taken from them and they spilled a sea of blood in response but her brother was naive.
War was a facet of their world, a fact of life. The reason only mattered to the Maesters, men would happily kill each other for any reason they could think of. Whether it be a petty slight, theft, or murder. Grudges were strong and the desire for war was stronger.
Perhaps if they had been more thorough in their breaking of Westeros, their children and grandchildren could have looked forward to a peaceful life. But they had neglected in their responsibility, in their duty after they began the conquest. They should have properly brought Westeros to its knees, not merely allowed them to kneel.
But it was a fantasy, war was coming, it was only really a matter of time until their house was tested, and she was thankful she had Maegor. For if she did not, she did not know if House Targaryen’s future would truly be secure, especially with the oaf Aenys in command.
Westeros was not her concern, however, nor did she particularly fear conventional war. They had dragons after all, and so long as their house, and only their house, had dragons, no conventional war should ever truly be feared.
But unfortunately, they were not fighting a conventional war. They were facing down an order of magical cowards, no doubt hellbent on ensuring their total destruction. So she would give it her all, so her grandchildren would not have to worry if their friends were truly the people they thought they were, or if it was a coward wearing another’s face.
“Silver Stag,” Visenya heard the watchwords for today, and her mind was taken away from her thoughts of war and conquest. She would have to ride Vhagar against the defenses Braavos had painstakingly erected all along the coastal plain leading to the city. So the route was clear but the logistics had to be worked out, especially with the Pentoshi militia joining them.
“You may enter,” Visenya said, signaling to her guards, who had been thoroughly screened before replacing those who came before them.
“Your Grace.” It was Lord Galladon Tarth who entered the tent, followed by his own four screened guards. They had worked out a process of grouping the guards into groups of four and changing them at regular intervals, they were changed half a day after a new watchword was implemented and the guards were closely watched. Their closeness to people of importance made them the most likely targets for Faceless Men to replace.
“Lord Galladon, what is your reason for being here,” Visenya said with a little indifference. Lord Galladon was a good warrior and lieutenant, but she was a little confused as to why he would appear before her.
“Your Grace, a group of guards have gone missing, we suspect they were wiped out, I came here to tell you to be cautious and the entire camp is going on high alert,” Lord Galladon said and Visenya immediately perked up.
“Find them, and capture them if possible,” Visenya quickly told Lord Galladon, finding a Faceless Man and capturing him was the most surefire way to wipe them all out. Figuring out the specifics of their tactics would allow them to plan their responses accordingly. Not to mention it would also tell them just how many foes they faced.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Lord Galladon said before bowing and leaving the tent and Visenya’s mind immediately shifted to her plans. She would personally handle the interrogation if they managed to catch one.
…
“Can you hear me? Shiera?” Visenya queried into the darkness. She was still getting used to communicating over Glass Candles, as it was kind of hard to practice before she instructed Shiera in its usage.
“I can, Your Grace,” Visenya heard a very tired Shiera say and Visenya fought off a sigh. Shiera was overdoing it again, and the worst part was that Visenya could not really rebuke her for it.
“I trust that you are in good health?” Visenya transmitted her message, doing her best to hide her disappointment and regret. She was partially at fault for Shiera’s currently worsening situation after all.
“I am, can I assume that you are also in good health?” Shiera asked in her new typical demure way. She had taken up the more docile tone when speaking to her and Visenya was fine with it. Shiera had a role to fill, and she was doing a much better job.
“Yes, I am fine. Worry more about your own health than my own,” Visenya said with an emotionless tone. Visenya did not particularly fear for her life, nor the life of her son, as she knew she and Maegor could take care of themselves as long as they were properly looking for assailants.
It was the lives of Shiera and her children that Visenya feared. She could not exactly trust the order of assassins hellbent on killing her and her son to not target Shiera, Daeron, and Baelon. Yet their situation was precarious, Shiera was vital to their screening efforts and their attempt to sift through the half million souls that called Pentos home.
Shiera was covering for her while Visenya covered for the army deploying to Braavosi territory but Visenya worried for her goodaughter. Shiera had shaped up remarkably over the last two years. Becoming the very picture that Visenya had envisioned when she first decided to forge her into a proper bride, but perhaps she had gone too far.
Maegor had noticed it too but Shiera was perhaps over-prepared for this situation. She was zealous in her conviction to find and wipe out the Faceless Men but it had gone too far. Shiera was actively falling apart, even if it was in the very beginning stages.
Magic always had a cost, from the smallest blood sacrifices to make potions or heal minor wounds, to the usage of the glass candles her family possessed. Every magic had a cost, whether it be blood or stamina or one's very life. The cost of overusing the glass candles was exhaustion and damage to the eyes.
Temporary blindness was a normal side effect of using a glass candle. It was only when someone overused the magical tool that blindness stopped becoming temporary. Her grandfather Daemion eventually became blind after years of overuse and if something was not done, Shiera may share his same fate.
She was already losing weight, skipping meals because of how much time she was spending scouring the city but Shiera’s worsening eyesight was more concerning. It had not gotten to an irreversible state yet but something would have to be done.
She and Maegor had begun searching for people with the potential to use glass candles. There were many in the Free Cities with a few drops of dragonblood, their dilution made Shiera look like she came from the Freehold itself but you did not need pure blood to use a glass candle. The main problem was loyalty.
Glass candles were a potent weapon, the ability to spy almost freely on nearly everyone was dangerous, not to mention the instant communication possible over staggering distances. Frankly, it was probably a good thing that the practice largely died out with the fall of the Freehold, because the Free Cities would be far more dangerous with proper spies.
The dangerous nature of the glass candles made it vital that those entrusted with its usage be truly loyal. Each potential candidate would have to be thoroughly sifted and truly, the most likely candidates to be successful were Lyseni, the Old Blood of Volantis, and Dragonseeds from Dragonstone, who had the least diluted Valyrian blood.
So their search had turned up empty so far but they would continue all the same. Making a proper order of loyal spies would take time so unfortunately they would have to make do with Shiera and herself for now.
It was a problem that could not be easily solved either. Shiera had much more stamina than her and she was performing a vital role. So hers and Maegor’s efforts to at least moderate her had so far proved fruitless.
‘Damn it all,’ Visenya thought again, she had the double misfortune of being a dragon rider and getting old. As a dragon rider, her eyesight was absolutely vital. If she went blind or had her eyesight irrevocably damaged, her ability to fight and command Vhagar would diminish substantially.
Then there was the lesser but still very problematic issue. Visenya was getting old. She had gotten a jolt of energy because of the situation they were in but she could still feel the wear and tear on her body. Her muscles ached when she moved too much and she got tired so quickly her old self would have scowled in disgust. She could barely manage to use a glass candle for half the time that Shiera could, lest she pass out from overexertion.
“Do you have any updates from the front? Maegor wishes to know if the Braavosi have sallied forth,” Shiera continued and cut off Visenya’s line of thought, she and Maegor needed to come up with a solution, before Shiera rendered herself blind.
“The Braavosi are too cowardly for that, they remain hidden in their city, likely still rebuilding their arsenal and fortifying their lagoon,” Visenya said with disgust. It was the logical choice for them, to allow the Faceless Men to hinder their assault and prepare as best they could. News had already spread that the nascent Braavosi fleets had returned to port and the arsenal was already being repaired.
“That is a shame, they likely fear Vhagar,” Shiera stated the obvious, and Visenya fought off the pride she had in her dragon to remain focused on the topic at hand.
“Indeed, although I have just received word that there may be a Faceless Man in camp, maybe several. A group of four guards have disappeared,” Visenya said and she could feel Shiera’s worry transfer across their mental link.
“What?! Are you certain?” Shiera said and Visenya frowned at her fear. It should be Visenya fearing for Shiera, not the other way around.
“Yes, Lord Galladon said so himself, have you had any suspicious actors back in Pentos?” Visenya quickly moved the subject. She would handle the Faceless Man here. Capturing and killing the cretin should be much more feasible now that she knew one was nearby.
“Not that I have seen, the guards remain vigilant and the staff have been clean so far. But I will continue searching,” Shiera said with a conviction that betrayed her energy.
“How long have you been using this already?” Visenya asked the question she was dreading, knowing it must have been damn near all day.
“Just a few hours, for this session at least. Maegor insisted on pulling me out to eat,” Shiera said with a little dissatisfaction.
“Good, you need to eat Shiera,” Visenya said with a more stern tone. She had been watching it more ever since Maegor got upset with her but it seemed Shiera needed correction once again.
“And what if in that time a Faceless Man slips through? Trust me, I am fine, Your Grace,” Shiera said and Visenya found it hard to argue with her. She was right, had she been in her position she would likely be doing the same thing, but she had to try at least.
“And what if you render yourself blind? What if you wither away? You cannot search for the Faceless Men if you are blind, Shiera,” Visenya got a little more stern, they had had this conversation before but she could tell that Shiera needed to hear it again.
“I know my limits, Your Grace,” Shiera said simply and Visenya sighed, internally of course. Visenya had molded Shiera into what she considered a perfect bride but she had inadvertently made Shiera just as stubborn as she once was.
“Very well, do take care of yourself, Shiera,” Visenya said, preparing to leave and try to find this cretin in their midst. She hoped that the next time she spoke with her gooddaughter it would be good news.
“Actually, Your Grace. Maegor wished for me to send a message,” Shiera said quickly, like she had forgotten about it until now.
“What did he say?” Visenya asked, her interest piqued.
“He asked for you to return for a few days, he said he had something important to discuss,” Shiera said with an almost confused-sounding tone.
“What is it he would like to discuss?” Visenya asked but she received the equivalent of a mental shrug of one's shoulders.
“I do not know, Your Grace. He said he wished to speak with you in particular. He said something about needing your advice,” Shiera said with a tone of apprehension, the same emotion that Visenya was feeling.
“Very well, I shall return at once, I will be there in a few hours,” Visenya said before casting away the flames of the glass candle.
‘That brings us up to two here,’ Visenya thought with a sigh as she recollected herself. She was loathe to leave her beautiful glass candle on Dragonstone but it was cumbersome to move and she did not trust a ship to carry it. Not to mention there was not enough space on the saddle of Vhagar.
They were lucky enough to find a second one in Pentos. It seemed Shiera had taken to combing through the libraries and solars of their aligned houses in Pentos and had managed to wrangle another glass candle from the wasteful hands of House Seltra. It had been used as a paperweight before this, so it would be much more useful in their control.
Visenya’s further plans to acquire as many as possible would have to be shelved for now. As she needed to meet with Aeron and let him know she was leaving. It was troublesome but she may have to entrust smoking out the Faceless Man to Aeron and the Lieutenants.
‘Just what could he want?’ Visenya thought as she finally stood to her weary legs, beginning her walk to Vhagar.
__________________________________________________________________________
Shiera XI
32AC
Scouring Pentos for Faceless Men had become a routine for Shiera. Ever since Maegor was nearly killed a moon ago, she spent nearly every day using her glass candle.
She combed through their staff and guards on the daily. She scoured the taverns and streets. Even the other manses of the Magisters of Pentos, like she was doing now. Just hoping, praying to find the Faceless Men who were after her family.
She had to, she had to protect her family. She had the ability to do so and so she must. Maegor was not capable of the astral projection, even if he was trying very hard recently to learn how. Plus Queen Visenya’s advancing age hindered her ability regarding the skill. Shiera was in her prime, and skilled enough to do the work.
Her family was at risk. Her husband had been the first to invoke the wrath of the cretins. Then she and her children nearly perished in the fire that consumed their lovely seaside manse. Now the Faceless Men were also no doubt after her goodmother and mentor. She could not allow it.
‘It is my duty,’ Shiera thought as she willed her form out of the Seltra manse and onto the streets once more. She had become a lot more skilled in this technique ever since Queen Visenya began her training. Her haphazard visit to the Stepstones was done by accident. Now she moved with a practiced ease.
Hours and hours of painstaking time spent practicing the precise thoughts and emotions needed to properly move one's self through the world without a body. Her projection glided through the air wherever it went, as walking without tangible legs was quite the challenge.
‘This is what my training was all for,’ Sheira thought with a fervor. Finally, she could use her gifts; they had already allowed her to verify the assassination attempt on her own life and the plotting of a certain Prince of Pentos but she had to do more.
She had already sworn it to Queen Visenya. She would make no more mistakes, she would not allow a Faceless Man to even get near the gates of House Narratys, even if it meant her eyes would be a little worse for wear.
She cared nothing for her eyes, she cared only for the lives of her husband and their children. She knew Queen Visenya could take care of herself but she had to guard both her children and her husband, who was nearly recovered but still limited in his abilities.
She had been happy to try and teach him how to use a glass candle when he asked but he simply lacked the capacity for it. It was no fault of his, some were just not suited for the role. He was able to figure out long-distance communication after a moon of trial and error but he could still not cast his form out.
That made her role all the more necessary. She was blessed with abilities her family needed now more than ever. Sure they could implement reforms with the guards. Frequent and random changes to the passwords needed to enter rooms, grouping guards into tight-knit squads of four to five members, along with the regular inspection of the guards but a glass candle was the only surefire way to truly know.
That was why Shiera was so adamant against the worries of her husband and goodmother. Shiera knew her limits, she had been using glass candles for years now. Had she been as helpless as she was when she first arrived on Dragonstone all those years ago, she would understand, but she was not. She was experienced and capable, so what if her eyesight got a little worse? She would happily suffer that fate so long as her family remained safe.
Before Shiera’s thoughts could continue, she was abruptly pulled out of her out-of-body experience. The feeling was not a pleasant one, it was almost like being struck all over your body at once, especially when you were not expecting it.
Shiera heaved a great breath, like she had been holding it for hours, and finally got to breathe once more. Then, her husband whispered in her ear. “My mother has arrived, join us in the nursery once you have collected yourself,” Maegor said quickly before departing.
‘That is strange…’ Shiera thought. Normally her husband would wait with her whenever he pulled her out. She would not deny it was a comfort, having the man she loved most in the world holding her close, while her mind wrangled itself back together.
But she supposed he must be concerned about something. It made Shiera anxious herself. He was normally more forthcoming with information for her. Granted she typically needed to ask as Maegor certainly could not read minds and was often much too busy to read a person’s feelings but still.
She could read feelings, and ever since that morning, something had been weighing on Maegor. Something that she would likely find out soon enough.
The quiet of the dark room she was currently in was welcome. Truthfully any stimulation after getting pulled out had the potential to be agonizing. A person’s mind was opened wide while using a glass candle, and it meant that she was far more susceptible to loud noises or pain while using it.
Shiera waited there for many minutes, maybe close to twenty. She had been using the glass candle for hours before getting pulled out so she had a lot of information to work through. Countless faces sifted trying to find a Faceless Man, Shiera could see them all flash through her mind.
After her mind had finally calmed itself, Shiera rose to her shaky, tired legs. Temporary blindness and worsening eyesight were not the only afflictions granted by the usage of a glass candle. It took vitality to keep the flame lit and Shiera had been running herself ragged.
As Shiera stepped out into the light of the hallway, she noticed that she could not see the end of the hallway particularly well. She noticed it a sennight ago but her long-distance sight had begun to worsen. She could still see a decent distance away, but the far distances away, like looking across the city from one of the Narratys manse’s many balconies had become much more blurred.
Shiera was thankful it went this way however, when she heard her eyesight could worsen she feared that her vision of close things would blur. She had no idea what she would do if she could not read. In comparison, she would happily trade the view of the setting sun for her beloved books.
‘Down the hall and to the left,’ Shiera reminded herself as the four guards assigned to her for now fanned out around her. Two in front on her left and right sides, and then two behind her, also on her left and right.
The reforms to their guards had been a stunning success. Many of the guards actually apologized to her that night, blaming themselves for what had happened to Maegor. Not that she would actually have blamed them for it. They were just as clueless as she and Maegor had been.
Now, however? Now they knew better, they had much higher expectations and they worked zealously to achieve them. Much like herself, they attacked their newfound responsibilities with a fervor she was not expecting. It almost made up for the lack of effort of the House Narratys guards.
She passed a few of them as she made her way to the nursery, Illyrio had graciously opened the nursery to them, given he had his own daughter in there too, and her sons had called the room home for the last moon.
When Shiera finally made it to the door, she heard the guard say the watchword for the time being, she imagined it would be switched soon but for now, every guard had to utter a single word or sometimes several words to be allowed into each individual room. If they could not, they would be detained.
“Freefall,” the guard said quietly into the door and then it was opened. Inside were a myriad of guards, all from their original manse. Alongside them were Maegor and Queen Visenya. Holding Daeron and Baelon respectively.
“Good, you are here,” Maegor said looking a little apprehensive. The guards quickly closed the door and Shiera took the chance to sit down on a free chair. Her legs were feeling the soreness and she welcomed the chance to sit.
“Indeed I am, why did you bring me out early? I saw the clock and I still had another hour and a half left,” Shiera said with a tired look as Maegor merely sighed.
“Because I finished speaking with my mother and now we must all speak, as a family,” Maegor said with a frown, turning his gaze from her into the eyes of Daeron.
‘What is going on?’ Shiera thought, she was getting restless. Maegor had expressly called Queen Visenya back to speak with her. Now he wanted to speak with all of them? She did not know what to expect, and she deeply hated surprises.
It was then that Maegor produced a letter, picking it up from a table. He took another look at it, securely holding Daeron to his chest with one arm while he held the paper before his eyes once more. Before he handed it off to her.
Shiera rubbed her exhausted and weary eyes as she scanned the paper before reading. She noticed a particular signature at the bottom, one she had never seen before.
“Aenys Targaryen?” Shiera mumbled out in confusion. Prince Aenys had never sent them a single letter since their banishment. Maegor had sent plenty, close to half a dozen now but he never got a response. Until now it seemed.
“Read the letter, dear,” Maegor said exasperatedly and Shiera felt a momentary feeling of regret. She was still quite out of it, her mind was back together but using a glass candle for so long was disorienting, as time was perceived differently while using the magical device.
“Right, sorry,” Shiera sheepishly said before her eyes once more returned to the paper. It was clearly hastily written, the normal eloquent calligraphy of a prince was absent, in favor of quickness and clarity.
Valonqar,
I must apologize for my not contacting you sooner. I was fearful of Father’s response to such a gesture and I deeply regret it. I would say I hope that this letter finds you well but I know that it does not. I have heard of your predicament and I have begged for Father to lift your banishment. He remains stubbornly opposed to the idea but he has agreed to another of my requests. He has given me permission to offer your wife and children the safety of the Crown’s protection in Westeros. He has lifted their banishment and should you send Shiera, Daeron, and Baelon here to Dragonstone, they will receive a royal welcome. Please think clearly brother, I know I have failed you before but I truly wish to help. Do not let pride put your family at risk.
Please send word of your health soon
Aenys.
As Sheira read through the letter, she could not help but let her mouth hang agape. This was a bold move by Prince Aenys, too bold. No way her husband’s placid and docile brother would ever be so daring as to challenge King Aegon. Not even her husband was willing to do so in person.
Shiera returned her glance upwards and found two stern faces staring at her. She was going to speak before Maegor began first.
“You will be going to Dragonstone tomorrow, my mother will bring you, Daeron, and Baelon there in the early morning,” Maegor said, his tone serious and absolute. The same one Queen Visenya often used.
“...Uhh… What?” Shiera asked, dumbfounded. Surely her husband was not serious, she was needed here. She was indispensable.
“You will be going to Dragonstone tomorrow. You and my mother will rest in the night and depart in the early morning. Vhagar is more than big enough to carry the four of you and I trust that Aenys will ensure that you will be well cared for there.
“Wha… but- but you can’t just…” Shiera could hardly believe her ears as Maegor continued with his preposterous statement.
“I can and I will. Your and our children’s safety is paramount. I have already ordered the staff to begin preparing your bags, they will be sent on a ship there given Vhagar’s limited capacity in her saddle,” Maegor said and it looked like he was waiting for her to get enraged. Rightfully so, of course.
“WHAT?! Did you not think to consult me first!?” Shiera was indeed enraged. They had agreed to be more forthcoming. To work together more, as they should. But this was the complete opposite.
“I did not think to do so because I knew how you would react. You will go. That is final,” Maegor’s tone was harsh and demanding, the same one that Queen Visenya loved to use for her lectures, but Sheira was not cowed, not this time.
“You cannot just do this! What will you do here!? You need me to help with the glass candle! I can be useful here please!” Shiera said in a crazed frenzy. She did not care who was listening or who was there. Maegor was going to send her away, throw her away like a piece of trash.
“I can do this, but I need you to listen to me Shiera,” Maegor said before placing Daeron back into his cradle and getting on one knee before her.
“This is not about you. I am not upset with you. You are not a failure,” Maegor began, stressing every single note. Despite that, Shiera could already feel tears form in her eyes. He might not say it but she clearly was a failure, given he wanted to send her away.
“Then why are you sending me away? Please Maegor, I will be better. I-I-I… I’m sorry,” Shiera began crying in earnest now, streams of ugly tears falling down her cheeks, mixed with hiccups and coughing. She couldn't fail. She promised herself and Queen Visenya.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Maegor began, taking her now very shaky hands into his own. “I am sending our sons to Dragonstone. Daeron and Baelon are at great risk here. I cannot in good conscience keep them here, not while the Faceless Men still live and the prince is plotting against us. But I cannot just send them. I trust my brother but our sons need one of us there, and I cannot go myself. So I need you to go in my stead,” Maegor spoke clearly and precisely. Even if the image of his face was quickly blurred by the tears in her eyes and her sobs filling the air and obscuring a few words.
“I…I can’t Maegor. I need to be here what if you get h-h-hurt again?” Shiera could not live with herself if her husband got hurt again, or gods forbid died while she was happy and safe on Dragonstone. What kind of wife would she be if she did not share his pain?
“Our children need you more, Shiera. Every moment they remain in this city they are in danger. Neither Daeron nor Baelon can protect themselves and I cannot protect them here. They are reliant on guards who have failed us once before,” Maegor said quietly, even if every guard in the room heard what he said and no doubt felt a sense of shame overtake them.
“But…but… I will be all alone…” Shiera began crying a little more now. She had to try something, anything to convince him. She could not just leave him, not in their current situation.
“I have already spoken with Gessio and Moredo. Lady Narha and Fereah will be confirmed of their identity and sent to join you on Dragonstone. Plus, I am sure the court will be fascinated by you,” Maegor said with a reassuring smile, lifting one of her hands to his mouth and placing a kiss on it.
‘Does he not know?’ Shiera thought, desperately trying to stop the still steady stream of tears, sobs, and hiccups to no avail. She knew well what they called her back in Westeros. The ‘white-haired whore,’ is what sailors and merchants had told her. The court would hate her, there was no way she could stay there.
“Please.. Maegor… don’t send me away. I don’t want to go,” Shiera pleaded once more, glancing back at Queen Visenya. Surely she agreed with her, Visenya went so far as to say Shiera played a vital role here. She could not just leave, it would put her husband in jeopardy.
“He is right, Shiera. Your first and foremost priority is the safety of your children,” Queen Visenya said and it nearly broke her. Shiera’s tears and sobs returned in full force. ‘This is a cruel world,’ Shiera thought, realizing that she had no choice, and she would be sent away from her family which had just been made whole.
Shiera cried for another hour at least. All her rebuttals and pleas were thwarted. Each counter she could come up with, every possible solution and reason for her to say was easily explained away. So Shiera could do nothing besides cry and lament the cruel fate forced upon her. She finally had a chance to make a real difference, to aid her husband and protect her family, and now she was being sent away.
Shiera eventually calmed down enough to eat and prepare for bed, for she had cried all the tears she had. ‘I am a failure,’ she kept thinking over and over again. ‘Where did I go wrong? What mistake did I make?’ Such questions bounced around in her head for the rest of the evening. She had sworn that she would not make any more mistakes, that she would not be a burden. Yet apparently she was so expendable that her husband was ready to send her all the way across the sea without a single day’s thought put into it.
The day flew by after her talk with Maegor and Queen Visenya. She kind of just retreated into her mind. She sat at the table and ate the food placed in front of her but there were no real thoughts to be had. Just an overwhelming feeling of defeat.
It was not until she had slipped off her dress and gathered up her sleeping gown that it really became clear to Shiera. She was going to leave Pentos and she could be gone for several moons and more likely years.
She understood Maegor’s reasoning, her sons would be much safer on Dragonstone. Any attempt on their lives would be a de facto declaration of war on Westeros, which was not something that Braavos could afford. But she still hated that she had to go.
Shiera looked down at her small hands and felt guilty then. She had made her entire freakout all about her, while her husband was more focused on the wellbeing of their children. ‘Perhaps I really am a failure,’ Shiera thought before she glanced toward the bed. Spotting her shirtless husband still awake.
‘To the seven hells with this,’ Shiera thought as she stared down her husband. He was still recovering from his injuries and she was still less than a year away from her giving birth to Baelon but she did not care. There was a very real possibility that she would not see her husband for years.
“So I will get as much of you as I can tonight,” Shiera whispered and was met by a “huh?” from Maegor before she pounced on him.
…
The night was long for Shiera and the morning unwelcome. She had indeed enjoyed as much of her little time with Maegor as she could before the sun rose but unfortunately. The damnable white orb rose above the eastern sky and Shiera had to get ready to leave.
She and Maegor both bathed and spent the morning together, breaking their fast and spending some time with Daeron and Baelon but eventually, the time came. Maegor brought her into a huge, strong hug and she welcomed the warmth.
“I love you,” Maegor said with a clear look of apprehension on his face. He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead before she stood on her toes, leaned in, and took a proper one for herself. She may have gotten her fill the night before but the prospect of being away from her husband for potentially years revolted her.
She returned the hug after that, whispering into his chest her own goodbye. “Please stay safe,” Shiera begged. She thought that she might start crying again but she did not want to cry in front of her sons. She would surely be doing a lot of crying on Dragonstone, it would be better to save her tears for there.
“I will, you too,” Maegor said before Queen Visenya appeared at the door.
“If I am to be back by nightfall, we must get going soon,” Queen Visenya said, clearly not wanting to disturb their little moment but she did so all the same.
“She is right, are you alright, my love?” Maegor asked her, bringing his large hands up and cupping her cheeks.
“No… but this must be done. Our children come first,” Sheira said, clarity finally coming to her after expending much of her energy the previous night. She was still tired from the poor sleep she had gotten but she did not regret a moment of that.
“Right you are, are they ready to leave too?” Queen Visenya said, leaning to look behind Maegor and catching a glimpse of a very energetic Daeron. Unlike his mother and father, the little prince had gotten a full night’s rest and was as energetic as any two-name-day-old boy could be.
“I believe so,” Maegor said, hoisting Daeron up from his cradle and lifting his heir into his arms. Meanwhile, she did the same for Baelon. The five of them all walked out to the dragons resting in the outer courtyard of the manse and then it was truly time to bid farewell.
Shiera calmly placed Baelon in the sling around her neck, while Maegor set Daeron down on the ground before she hugged him as tight as she could with Baelon between them. Maegor let out a quick wince, what with his still recovering from his almost healed wounds but she did not care. She squeezed him with all of her meager might and Maegor returned the favor, albeit not at his full strength.
“I love you,” they both said in rapid succession and Shiera gave him a final kiss before letting go. Maegor remained standing in place as Shiera gathered up her firstborn in her arms and moved to ascend the enormous wings of Vhagar.
She recalled Queen Visenya saying something about how the non-dragon riding spouse of a dragonrider was supposed to only ride their husband or wife’s dragon but Shiera supposed that their current situation made traditions rather moot. Maegor could not return to Dragonstone, as he was officially banished from the realm, meanwhile, her banishment had just been lifted and Queen Visenya was never banished.
So she clambered up to Vhagar’s saddle and urged her sons to wave at their father as Vhagar began to move. Shiera could feel the urge to cry again but she fought it. She had to be strong now, for her sons.
So the four of them all waved to Maegor as Vhagar ascended into the sky with great flaps of her greenish bronze wings. Before long, Pentos rapidly faded from her sight as Vhagar flew west, toward Dragonstone.
The flight was rather long, Queen Visenya had made the journey several times now but Shiera had made it only once. Ever since her banishment the longest flight she had ever been on had been to their manse in the Velvet Hills.
Shiera busied her mind during her flight, doing her best not to think about Maegor. She played with Baelon who was wrapped around her in a sling. While she answered the excited short questions that Daeron was muttering.
Queen Visenya meanwhile remained silent for almost the entire flight. It was only when the sun was well past noon did she utter her first words.
“I am sorry you have to do this, Shiera,” Queen Visenya apologized and Shiera was shocked.
“It is not your fault, Your Grace. The circumstances demand this,” Shiera said simply with a small frown. She disliked what she had to do greatly but she was putting up a brave face. She had already bawled her eyes out in front of her sons once. She would not do so again.
“All the same, this is not a fate I would wish upon you. I am sure you will be safe on Dragonstone but do stay in touch. I assume you know where my old glass candle is?” Queen Visenya said with a sense of trepidation, like she was loath to part from them.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Shiera said before Queen Visenya sighed loudly.
‘Did I do something wrong?’ Shiera worriedly thought before Queen Visenya turned her head around to look at her.
“Perhaps it is time that you start calling me Visenya,” she said suddenly and Shiera was dumbfounded.
“Huh?” Shiera uttered, all the while Daeron began babbling “Visenya Visenya Visenya” in front of her.
“You are family now, Shiera. You are the mother of my grandchildren and wife to my son. You can drop the honorifics. I hardly feel like a queen anyway,” Queen Visenya said and Shiera was confused.
“But it is the proper thing to do…” Shiera said, recalling her fearful mind exercises. She spent so much time with Her Grace and she feared accidentally slipping up and using her real name.
“I do not particularly care about what is proper anymore Maegor is right, honorifics are for whelps and mongrels. I want you to call me Visenya,” she said and Shiera hesitantly shook her head.
“Uhm… Queen Visenya I cannot do that,” Shiera said with a hesitant tone. Queen Visenya was her mentor and better in every way. Despite her role as wife to her son, she had no right to drop the honorifics, no right to be her equal.
“Very well, then call me Mother,” Queen Visenya said next and Shiera was even more dumbfounded.
“Wuh…uhh… what?” Shiera asked, positively stupefied. ‘Calling Queen Visenya Mother, that was even worse than calling her name,’ Shiera thought with shaking hands. This was weird, Queen Visneya had never acted like this around her before.
“Address me as ‘Mother’ when you speak with me,” Queen Visenya seemed almost exasperated and Shiera’s shock only increased.
“Are you serious? Your Grace, I do not have the honor of sharing your blood, it is not my right to address you as such,” Shiera quickly mumbled, this was a thoroughly bewildering situation and Shiera did not know what to think.
“You may not share my blood but you have earned the honor all the same, Shiera. I have practically raised you since you were three and ten years old. You are the wife of my son and the mother of my grandchildren. I insist,” Queen Visenya said, the typical seriousness and sternness of her lecturing tone distinctly absent.
“...Alright, Mother,” Shiera said the words but they seemed alien on her tongue but quite… pleasant. She could not put her thoughts into words but she thought they were happy ones.
“Thank you Shiera, for all the effort you have put in. I am sure you will continue to be a good wife for Maegor,” Visenya said and Shiera felt even more dumbfounded if that was possible.
‘Where did this come from?’ Shiera thought. She had just acted like a child the previous day and now Visenya was praising her and asked her to drop the honorifics?
“You’re welcome? Er I mean… thank you! Mother! It is only because of you that I have been afforded the opportunity,” Shiera quickly fell back into her standard. Queen Visenya said to drop the honorifics but she still had to be respectful.
“You are welcome, Shiera. Now then, I can see Dragonstone now,” Queen Visenya said and Shiera scanned the horizon, but her damaged eyes failed to spot what must have been a tiny black dot on the horizon.
“So I guess this is goodbye…” Shiera said, another pit opening in her stomach. Her saying goodbye to Maegor hurt much worse but saying goodbye to Queen Visenya almost felt just as bad. Like the reality of her situation finally truly set in.
“Indeed it is, the moment the Faceless Men are exterminated, I will fly to come and retrieve you and the boys,” Visenya promised and it did make Shiera feel a bit better, if only a bit.
“Thank you,” Shiera said simply as she tried to focus her eyes on the horizon. Her slaving away at the glass candle seemed rather stupid in hindsight. As now her eyes were worse and she was sent away from the action.
Vhagar let out a low rumble upon nearing the island the beautiful she-dragon was birthed on and Shiera could finally make out the shape of the island, even if it remained blurry. The distinctive pillar of smoke rises from the top of the Dragonmont.
Finally, the long dreaded moment arrived and Vhagar landed on the large cliff face that preceded the entrance to the Dragonpit. The immense bronze doors opened to allow Vhagar entrance and a gaggle of Dragonkeepers fanned out to guide Vhagar into a stable.
Shiera took the chance to look around in the pit. She did not get a great chance last time she was here and the sheer scale of the creation was awe-inspiring. It was carved directly into the Dragonmont. About two-thirds up the volcano and it was more than large enough to house a dozen dragons of all sizes. Balerion’s intimidating presence was immediately felt, as the colossal dragon peered out from his steel gates.
Before long it was time to dismount, however. Shiera gathered Daeron into her arms and slid down the leathery wing of Vhagar as Baelon was already on a sling draped around her neck.
Shiera’s boots hit the hard stone ground and she sent a cursory glace toward Queen Visenya as Vhagar turned around, back toward the entrance. A dragon keeper asked if she wanted to remain and rest Vhagar but Visenya declined. Shiera watched as Vhagar leaped off the cliff face and set out on her return journey.
“Now it is just me and you boys,” Shiera whispered to no one in particular. Daeron looked quizzically around before an elderly man in ornate silken robes appeared before her.
“My lady, we have prepared a horse for your travel to the castle,” the old man said in absolutely flawless High Valyrian, and Shiera was awed. She had heard that the Dragonkeepers spoke High Valyrian as their native tongue but their accent was foreign and their execution was flawless.
“Thank you,” Shiera said simply. She was here as a guest after all. She would not make a scene.
Shiera moved with Daeron and Baelon in tow and mounted the white mare that was prepared for her. As they slowly trotted down the long, winding path toward Castle Dragonstone, Shiera turned to look back east. Maegor was all alone there right now. Visenya was on her way back but Maegor would have spent several hours completely alone
“Please be safe,” Shiera spoke aloud and sent a weary smile Daeron’s way when he perked up at her speaking. Daeron was naturally inquisitive and Shiera was sure her firstborn would have the time of his life in the needlessly complex and intricate design of Dragonstone.
Before long the secondary gate appeared before her and Shiera could see the sun in front of her. It was not quite setting yet but the day was clearly nearing its end. ‘Hopefully, they have rooms prepared for us,’ Shiera thought with a frown.
She knew Prince Aenys said they would be protected and cared for here but Shiera could not help but be skeptical. She already knew the people in Westeros called her a whore. ‘I wonder what else they think behind closed doors,’ Shiera thought before she worked to dispel the thought. She could not very well present herself before the court crying. That was a private matter, after all.
As she finally closed in on the secondary gate to Castle Dragonstone, Shiera felt a deeply bittersweet feeling develop within her. She was now on Dragonstone, the island that should have been the home to her and her family. The island that was her home for almost a year, the same one she trained on and learned how to help her husband rule on. The same one she married her husband on. Her ancestral home yet it was not hers or her husband's.
The beautiful dreams she had of this island were gone now, as she was just a guest, invited out of pity. ‘A guest in the home that should have been mine,’ Shiera thought with a frown as the great steel gates opened before her.
She shook the thought away, however. She was all but alone in a now foreign land. She had to be strong. ‘It is time to face the vipers of court.’
Comments
Morel
Shiera has been cowed by Visenya and the events that happened in Essos. A break in Westeros will allow her to mellow out a bit.
KAZUHA02
Isn't she losing her personality?? I don't think this Shiera was the girl Maegor loved. This is a husk of her real self. Who is this Stiff, obedient, dutiful, meek, stubborn woman? It doesn't suit her at all. Will Maegor address this issue?? It's so frustrating to see a Shiera I don't recognise
Morel
Shiera is explicitly a guest there, she will not be doing any take over and Aegon has no reason to give her son's eggs(tradition not invented yet and he has no real reason to give them eggs before Viserys) Aegon is living full time on Dragonstone right now so he will have plenty of opportunities to spend time with his grandchildren if he wishes to.
Sukhraj Singh
So Shiera is back on Dragonstone now is she. I hope that she will be able to silently take over the running of Dragonstone without anyone noticing. Plus, being on Dragonstone allows her to grant Daeron and Baelon access to dragon eggs and any newly hatched dragons. Hopefully, Shiera will manage to get Daeron and Baelon to bond with new hatchlings as she will be one of the first to know if any dragon eggs have hatched. I am curious if Aegon will use this oportunity to bond with his grandsons Daeron and Baelon, given that he has made Dragonstone his place of residence and will be flying back and forth from King's Landing.
