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29. Aenys V / Visenya V / Martyn I
🕑 Added 2024-07-28 15:07:31 +0000 UTCAenys V
31AC
“Kepa! Go upside down!” Aenys heard his darling little princess say and he could not in good conscience deny her.
“Very well Rhaena,” Aenys said with a smile and tugged on the reins of his trusted Quicksilver. In response, his stunning silver dragon turned her sizable wings, and the air was filled with the lovely giggles of an eight-name days old girl as Quicksilver flipped upside down in the middle of the sky.
The giggles were replaced with a small scream as Quicksilver began to fall before righting herself and flapping her wings with great strength. Quicksilver was not the largest dragon his family had ever owned, not by a long shot, but she was plenty big and strong as is.
“Are you alright, Rhaena?” Aenys checked on his little girl. She had quietly asked for this little dragon ride and he wanted to ensure that she remained happy.
“Yes, Kepa! That was amazing!” Rhaena said with a smile and Aenys committed the look to memory.
Rhaena Targaryen was normally a shy girl. She preferred the company of animals and books to other children and would even adorably hide behind his leg or her mother’s skirts when brought to the Aegonfort.
Yet atop a dragon, she was as energetic and lively as a child could be. She would gladly clamber atop Quicksilver with him at every given opportunity. Along with excitedly grabbing at the reins and even shouting out commands she had learned from overhearing him.
None of them worked of course. Only he could command Quicksilver, even the Dragonkeepers had to tread lightly around dragons, they had long since learned techniques to placate them and move them around but only a Targaryen could truly command a dragon.
‘With any luck, a hatchling will be born soon for her to claim,’ Aenys thought with a smile. There were no currently living hatchlings but there were still many eggs in the hatchery of Dragonstone. It was really only a matter of time until another clutch hatched.
‘Dragonstone,’ Aenys involuntarily thought and a frown soon appeared on his face. He had been doing his best to avoid thinking about that island, or more specifically, the brother who once was its prince.
“Kepa?” Rhaena asked sweetly and Aenys realized he had been flying in a straight direction. Quicksilver long since left King’s Landing in the dust and flying north toward Duskendale.
“Oh my, I’m sorry darling,” Aenys quickly apologized before looking down at the newly minted compass on his saddle. It was an invention of the maester of Dragonstone a few years back and the Citadel had been fascinated by it. In seemingly no time at all, they managed to put together an actually portable version that could be strapped into a dragon’s saddle.
Orienting his dragon back south. Aenys smiled at the ease of the process. He still remembered the difficulties of navigating before his father had sought to purchase a few compasses for House Targaryen.
He had gotten lost more than he cared to admit on the many progresses he had attended. Not disastrously so but it was all too easy to miss your destination when all you had to go off of was a general direction and oftentimes incorrect landmarks. Before he had gotten his hands on this, the best way of navigating his father’s kingdom was by following the rivers.
“Kepa, when will I get a dragon?” Rhaena suddenly blurted out and Aenys could only smile. He imagined he would be just as impatient had he not been bonded with Quicksilver long before he was even old enough to remember.
“Soon, my little hatchling,” Aenys said, raising a hand from the reins to pinch Rhaena’s soft face.
Aenys could not have dreamed how great being a father would be. He remembered being so deeply terrified of the prospect. Yet now he could not imagine his life without his children. All three of them.
First was his darling little Rhaena. His firstborn and a wonderful little princess. Seeing her grow up was just as amazing as it was terrifying. In what felt like a blink of an eye. Aenys could no longer pick up his child and cradle her in his arms.
Then there was Aegon. A year younger than Rhaena but just as energetic. Aenys suspected that his son would no doubt demand a dragon ride from him the moment he landed. He hated to deny his children anything but unfortunately, his father had called a Small Council meeting today and Aenys was forced to attend.
Finally there was little Viserys. Almost two years old and a sweet little thing. Alyssa had been ecstatic at his birth. The smile on his wife’s face and the new addition to their family almost made up for the gaping hole created almost three years ago.
As Aenys brought Quicksilver back toward the Dragonpit situated at the top of Visenya’s Hill. He could not help but look east. Out toward the Blackwater Bay and beyond. Where his brother and nephew now lived.
‘Are they well?’ Aenys could not help but ask himself. He was an uncle now. He had gotten a second invitation recently to attend to the birth of Maegor’s second child but he was still apprehensive about going. He did not attend the first time because Viserys had just been born but Aenys was worried about the reaction his wife may give to his leaving. Not to mention how his father may react…
‘It is fine, all will be made well when I bring them home,’ Aenys thought with assurance. He did not know when it would happen but surely he could either convince his father to lift the banishment or do it himself when he ascended to the Iron Throne in the future. For the time being, he would just have to be separated from his little brother.
“Kepa, can we go flying again later?” Rhaena broke Aenys from his thoughts and he realized that they were about to land. The great bronze doors of the pit opened wide like a dragon’s maw to accept Quicksilver’s entrance.
“Your brother gets a turn first, maybe your grandfather will take you flying on Balerion,” Aenys said with a smile but Rhaena let out a little huff.
“I don’t want to ride Balerion, he is scary! I want to ride Quicksilver!” she said with a little pout before Aenys pinched her cheeks again. Earning a huff and a frantic hand swipe from his daughter.
“Now now, do you want to upset your grandfather?” Aenys said and Rhaena quickly wiped the pout off her face after swatting away Aenys’s hand.
“N-no!” she exclaimed readily and Aenys chuckled at her fear. His children were still young but Rhaena and little Aegon loved being around their grandfather. Whether he was telling stories of the Conquest. Teaching them a little bit about ruling. Or even just showing them the Iron Throne. They loved all of it.
“Then you should ask him to take you flying for some time. I think he is just waiting for you to ask,” Aenys said with a wink and Rhaena gave a little nod. Her braided, silver-gold hair bounced around at the sudden motion.
As Aenys dismounted from Quicksilver after depositing her into her designated lair. He was met by Ser Raymont Baratheon and Ser Richard Roote at the entrance.
‘Hmm,’ Aenys thought with a little hum. Remembering his father’s words once the Dragonpit was finally completed nearly half a year ago. He forbade anyone but the Dragonkeepers and members of House Targaryen from entering, with the sole exception of the Kingsguard.
“My Prince, you are expected in the Small Council chamber,” Ser Richard Roote said and Aenys nodded.
“Ser Raymont, could you please take Rhaena back to my manse? I believe she has some lessons with her Septa today,” Aenys said and Rhaena took her characteristic stance behind his leg and let out a little whine.
“Mhhh,” Rhaena exclaimed and Aenys let out a sigh. He understood that she was shy but she spent nearly every day surrounded by at least one Kingsguard.
“Come on now Rhaena, follow Ser Raymont,” Aenys said a little more forcefully. He had been forced to use this tone more often as of late. Especially with Aegon as his son was growing to be quite the troublemaker.
“...Alright… bye bye Kepa!” Rhaena said with some reluctance before sending a wave his way and walking toward the door to enter a carriage.
Aenys let out a quiet sigh before turning to Ser Richard. “Let us get going then, we must not leave my father waiting,” Aenys said with resignation as he made to follow his daughter out of the pit.
…
The Small Council chamber had gotten noticeably more tense since that day, as it was referred to now. Lord Martyn Hightower had resigned in disgust after that day and his seat had been replaced by the man who held it beforehand. Lord Triston Massey was the ‘new’ Master of Laws.
Meanwhile, the rest of the seats had long since been cowed. His father made it very clear he would tolerate no more bickering and politicking in his small council and everyone was quick to oblige. Even if several still were playing shifty games behind the scenes, namely Lord Aethan and Lord Tion Tarbeck.
Lord Aethan had done a poor job of hiding his aid to Aeron Velaryon. Helping his second son gather around three thousand men and even sending them across the Narrow Sea. Yet his father did not bring the hammer down like so many had expected. ‘Is he just tired or does he wish to support Maegor?’ Aenys thought for what must have been the hundredth time.
Unfortunately, much of his father’s mind remained a mystery to Aenys. He had many conversations with his father about all manner of politics but he did not have the courage to bring up his banished brother.
Tion Tarbeck meanwhile, as the de facto liaisons of House Lannister, must have leaked the news of their troublesome monetary situation to them. As only a moon after that day, the Lannisters offered a loan to the Iron Throne to pay off the sizable dowry. Such politicking and obvious opportunism also garnered no real reaction from his father, even if he could have waved away the dowry with ease.
“What do we have for today?” his father abruptly said with an overly serious tone and Aenys stiffened his back. Aegon Targaryen had made it abundantly clear with his tone and wrath after that day, to deny his will was a foolish decision.
“Nothing serious, Your Grace. Just some news from the east, from the south, and the Vale,” the reliable Ser Osmund drawled out from the paper slid to him from the Grand Maester and Aenys nodded along. He already suspected what this news was.
“Let us begin with the news in the east then,” his father said with a tone of complete disinterest. Even before that day, his father seemed to have less than zero interest in the happenings of Essos. To the point that Aenys was thoroughly confused as to why his father volunteered to crush the Volanteen fleet before the conquest.
“We have more news from Pentos. A Khalasar has bent the knee to Prince Maegor in the east and Pentos continues her expansion Eastward,” Ser Osmund said and Aenys winced.
‘Bringing up Maegor, here?!’ he thought with a sense of disbelief. He supposed this was important news that needed to be known and a potential response prepared. But to so thoughtlessly name Maegor in a small council meeting was something nobody had dared to do for over almost two years now. Nobody even mentioned his name when Maegor’s first son was born almost a year and a half ago.
“Good for him, why is this reaching me?” his father said with a disinterested tone and Aenys swallowed his anger. Sure his brother had acted foolishly but to still hold such contempt? ‘This does not seem normal for him at all,’ Aenys thought while idly biting at his nails.
“This is a large shakeup of Essos, Your Grace. Prince Maegor’s power is surely already spooking many in Essos and his might is only growing further. It could destabilize the region,” Ser Osmund said a falsehood, even Aenys could see right through it.
‘Did he think Father wanted to hear of Maegor?’ Aenys thought with a silent sigh. Aenys felt relieved anyway, his brother’s position was more secure, and from the looks of the small sigh that escaped Lord Aethan and Ser Corlys, they cared too. Aenys hoped his father did too, deep down at least. But his reaction made Aenys doubt that.
“Which is not my concern, I am the King of the Seven Kingdoms, not Essos,” his father waved away the issue but it seemed that the Grand Maester had more to say.
“With all due respect, Your Grace. With instability returning to Essos, you may very well be troubled with mediation requests and pleas for aid, should we not discuss potential plans for them?” the creepy old man said in his quiet, low voice and Aenys nodded reluctantly. It was a good point after all.
“Turn them away, I do not care about Essosi troubles. When my Seven Kingdoms are troubled, then I will intervene,” his father said with complete assurance but Aenys wondered if that was true.
The Seven Kingdoms had already been troubled by events in Essos. Yet his father did not ride out personally to deal with the pirates in the Stepstones. Aenys shook those thoughts away, however. The last thing he needed was to get the rage of his father turned onto him.
“What is next?” the disinterested tone of his father called out next, idly swirling the glass of wine that had been poured for him at the start of the meeting.
“I believe it was troublesome news from the south,” Lord Tion said, idly stroking his small beard.
“I hesitate to call it troublesome but Vhagar has been confirmed to be sighted at Storm’s End,” the spindly Grand Maester said and his father let out a stern glare. The Small Council had gotten much less open over the last year and many were still getting used to the change.
“So Visenya is at Storm’s End. Again, why should I care?” his father said again, boredom and disinterest practically cloaking his very person.
“That ties into our final bit of news,” Ser Osmund said next and everyone at the table stared at him intently.
“Several bands of men and minor lords have been gathering in the Vale. Estimates place it anywhere from two to three thousand men, all of whom appear to be headed east,” Ser Osmund said after a brief bout of hesitation.
“Are you sure they are headed east? The Vale regularly mobilizes to punish the wildlings in the Mountains of the Moon,” Lord Aethan responded this time. ‘The audacity…’ Aenys thought with the smallest hint of a frown.
Lord Aethan was the one who sent an army east in the first place. With Queen Visenya’s approval, he did so somewhat quietly but it was an open secret. It was well known that nothing happened on Driftmark without Lord Aethan’s approval.
“All signs point to their going east, many merchant ships in Gulltown have not left for new voyages, the nobles are almost all second sons or men at arms, and most importantly of all. Queen Visenya toured the Vale the last two moons,” Ser Osmund continued and Aenys pieced it all together.
‘Aunt Visenya must be gathering men to send east to help Maegor,’ Aenys thought with trepidation. His father had been willing to let barely three thousand men leave the Crownlands but letting potentially thousands more leave not only the Vale but the Stormlands too was a bad look.
If Aenys had his way it would be let go. But he doubted his father would be so willing to aid Maegor in his adventurism in Essos. ‘How will he stop her though?’ Aenys thought, sending a quick glance at his father’s face.
He had the same look of boredom plastered on his sharp features. Albeit his eyes had sharpened at the mention of an army gathering. The table was silent as a mouse as they all awaited the response of their king.
“I will do nothing, let them leave,” his father decided in an instant and the rest of the table was stunned into silence. However, Aenys managed to let out a small smile.
“With all due respect, Your Grace. Such an action will no doubt be spun to make you look weak,” Lord Tion objected and his father sent him a glare.
“Then let any who spin this lose their tongue,” his father said then, venom dripping from his tone.
The rest of the Small Council was thoroughly cowed and they all waited in an awkward silence before his father dismissed them all.
“If that is all, leave and return to your work,” his father’s tone returned to the one of disinterest as he also stood from his seat and readily made for the exit.
‘It seems luck continues to bless you Maegor. Do not waste it,’ Aenys thought then. Hoping beyond hope that the additional support from Westeros would help keep Maegor and his family safe.
Visenya V
31AC
The low rumble of thunder in the distance was a familiar sound to Visenya’s ears. Dragonstone may not be part of the Stormlands but the Stone Drum was specifically designed to resonate with the sound. But it was not the familiar sounds that drew her to Storm’s End on this day.
“Good Morning, Sister,” her other little brother said to her and Visenya nodded and took a seat across from him in his solar. The comfortable chair was a welcome reprieve from her exhausted body. She had not been on Dragonstone in almost three moons now.
“Good morning, little brother,” Visenya said with a small smile. She had largely neglected to visit Orys since Rhaenys’s death but she still held her bastard brother in high regard. He was loyal, capable, and had dragon blood after all.
“...So what brings you to my castle, Sister?” Orys said after a momentary pause.
“I think you already know,” Visenya said with a disinterested tone. She did not exactly mind catching up with her wayward half-brother but she came here for one reason and one reason alone..
“Well it is obviously not to exchange pleasantries,” Orys said with a hearty smile and Visenya returned a small one of her own. It seemed years of separation had done little to poison his image of her.
“Indeed, you have heard of my time in the Vale I assume,” Visenya opened the floor to a proper discussion. She would rather not have to lay out terms. Surely her half-brother was smart enough to pick up what she was putting down.
“Right right, you want me to send men east to support your boy,” Orys said with a rather disinterested tone and Visenya merely sent him one of her simple glares.
“You are referring to a prince,” Visenya said with a low voice to accompany her glare and Orys laughed then.
“No need for theatrics, Sister. I cannot send many due to the damnable Dornish and their fucking raiding but I will put out a call for volunteers in my personal domain, along with sending word to all but the Marcher lords to do the same,” Orys said with his more familiar jovial tone, even if it was definitely different in some way compared to how she remembered.
“Good, thank you Orys,” Visenya said, preparing to get up and leave before Orys stopped her.
“Come now, surely you did not come here just for that?” he said with a little disappointment and Visenya narrowed her eyes.
She did come here just for that. She had spent the last two moons touring the Vale and “convincing” several lords to send volunteers out east. Maegor was in hostile territory after all and while she could not join him in Pentos yet, lest she jeopardize his stabilizing position. She could still do plenty from Westeros.
‘Then again,’ Visenya thought momentarily of pleasant memories on Dragonstone. Of spending time in the yard with her two younger brothers, of exciting conversations, and family feasts. ‘I suppose I have some time to catch up,’ Visenya thought with a small smile before sitting back down.
Orys’s wavering smile returned with more strength after she settled herself back in the decently comfortable seat and stared into the purple eyes of her half-brother. His hair may be black but his eyes made it readily apparent. Orys Baratheon was her half-brother, a dragonseed born of Aerion Targaryen and some brothel wench.
“So you wish to speak, I suppose I should ask, how is life going for you?” Visenya asked with an awkward tone. Smalltalk was hardly her expertise.
Orys let out a low chuckle at her words and Visenya narrowed her eyes before Orys began. “The same as it has been for the last eight and ten years, though I imagine yours must be the opposite,” Orys said with a smile before Visenya nodded warily.
“You are correct about that, I am living a life I could have never fathomed previously,” Visenya said while balling her hand up into a fist. She could hardly believe she was the same woman who agreed to remain childless for the rest of her life when she got married to Aegon all those years ago.
“Aren’t we all?” Orys said, holding up his stump and Visenya’s latent anger stirred once more. Old wounds and slights resurfacing. Not from Orys, but from House Targaryen’s unfinished business.
“Has Dorne stirred since?” Visenya asked with a glare. She figured she would have heard if it had gotten bad but minor skirmishes were reported to happen almost all the time in the Marches.
“Not in any real way, but I can feel that something is coming, hopefully, Aenys can grow a spine by then,” Orys said with disappointment coloring his tone and Visenya smiled in return.
Had Aenys been her son, she would have felt obligated to defend him, even if he somehow still turned out weak. But she was not burdened by the prospect of being that failure’s parent. In actuality, properly speaking with someone about her observations was something she had never really been afforded until now.
“That or he wisens up and brings my son home,” Visenya said with a barely repressed snarl. She had put up with Aenys for so long, getting to finally lambast that fool, even in private was welcome.
Orys chuckled to himself again and Visenya raised an eyebrow in response. She gave him a confused look before he calmed himself down and began speaking once more.
“I apologize, but the idea of you being a mother is such an odd one to ponder. Especially when you act like that,” Orys said with a proper smile and Visenya considered smiling back but she maintained her questioning gaze.
“Like what?” Visenya asked with a stern tone.
“All protective and guarded. I expected you to practically throw him to the dragons, sink or swim type parenting, not whatever you are doing now,” Orys continued and Visenya pondered the thought herself.
When she was younger, perhaps Orys would have been correct. So deeply tied to the idea of combat and glorious battle. Yet now she could not see the same way. Maegor was her everything, the very reason she continued living. ‘If he did not exist, what would I even do?’ Visenya momentarily thought before she cast it away.
“I am a grandmother now, actually,” Visenya redirected the talk, wishing to discuss more enjoyable matters.
“I heard, what is your Grandson’s name again? Daemon?” Orys asked, drumming his left hand on the desk.
“Daeron, my son chose the name,” Visenya said with a little pride in her tone. Her grandson was named after his maternal grandfather but it was a strong name nonetheless. She had her own proper family now. A proper continuation of House Targaryen’s legacy.
“Perhaps he and Ronnal could one day be friends, rebuild the ties that should never have withered in the first place,” Orys said with a dour expression on his face and Visenya felt it too. They had all been so close when they were younger. She, Aegon, Rhaenys, and Orys. They conquered seven kingdoms together. Yet now those familial ties had withered on the vine.
“Had you been blessed with a daughter, perhaps those ties would have been rebuilt years ago,” Visenya said, recalling just how close Orys and Aegon had been. If Orys had remained in the capital, and his wife given him a daughter. There would have been quite the debate between Orys’s daughter and Alyssa. This also would have done away with any potential issues regarding Maegor’s marriage, as a suitable bride would have existed either way. Yet it was not to be.
“What ifs will not help us anymore. Argella gave me only sons and I am grateful for what I got,” Orys shrugged and Visenya sighed in response.
“Then we should look to the future, my son will not forget the favor you do for him here,” Visenya promised in his stead. Maegor was making big moves in Essos, he needed all the support he could get.
“I am too old to be taking favors, I will help him, like family should,” Orys said with a small smile and Visenya mentally kicked herself for not visiting him sooner.
“On the topic, why aren’t you in Essos with your family, Visenya?” Orys said after a moment's pause and Visenya felt her shame resurface.
“My son’s position in Pentos is still not stable, my presence there would only make Pentos more hostile,” Visenya said her pre-thought-out reply. It was what Maegor said the last two times she visited, and it provided a useful excuse.
“Quit lying to me. Something else is keeping you here,” Orys said instantly, noticing something nobody else had, besides maybe her son.
“I am the reason they were banished, the reason that my son lost Dragonstone and was forced to leave the Seven Kingdoms,” Visenya said, a frown on her face. There was no real point in lying to her brother, he would not speak of this to anyone anyway.
“And?” Orys asked, a dumbfounded look on his face.
“And?” Visenya asked, just as confused.
“You are letting your pride keep you from your family?” Orys asked with an almost annoyed look on his face.
“My pride? I already said Orys, I cannot join them right now,” Visenya said again, with a bit more of a stern tone. Her little brother was getting quite crass with her.
“What kind of a pathetic excuse is that? Your family needs you more than ever. Wasn’t your gooddaughter almost assassinated already?” Orys said incredulously.
“I would rather not remember that,” Visenya said with a stern look. That was not a pleasant chapter in her life. The rage she brought down upon Shiera was not her proudest moment. But it needed to occur nonetheless. She had gotten sloppy and complacent in Pentos. Visenya taught Shiera to be the perfect wife for her son. Luckily, from what she could tell, Shiera seemed to be back on the right path.
“You would rather not remember it but it is important nonetheless. What purpose does your remaining in Westeros even do? Especially after you are done recruiting in Westeros,” Orys continued with an exasperated look.
The more Visenya thought about it, the more correct he seemed. Dragonstone was her home but it did not feel the same after Maegor and Shiera left. Her place was with her family, which was in Pentos.
“Perhaps you are correct. I should have a second grandchild soon, perhaps I will bring it up with Maegor when I visit,” Visenya promised noncommittally. The prospect of joining her family in Pentos was a good one.
Orys let out a long sigh before beginning again. “I hate to continue speaking of such morose topics, but do tell Sister, what are you going to do when Aegon finally notices what you are doing?” Orys said with a completely straight face but Visenya waved it away.
“He will do nothing like he always does,” Visenya said with complete surety. Aegon would sit down and take it on the chin, like he had for his entire life. ‘No reason he would start caring now,’ Visenya thought with a sneer.
“Like he always does indeed,” Orys said once more, holding up his stump and Visenya nodded knowingly. Orys was perhaps the only other person who could rival the rage she felt when Aegon demanded an end to the war in Dorne.
Such a complete betrayal of all they worked for, of all they suffered and bled for. Years of war and bloodshed and yet neither Orys’s hand nor Rhaenys’ death were avenged. Wyl of Wyl still lived and House Uller remained alive.
That was the last time she saw her half-brother before this and yet they remained in agreement. They should have continued the war. Dorne was on its last legs. Staring down a famine of a scale not seen since the mythical Long Night. Yet Aegon gave up after one letter was sent. It grated on her endlessly and it still angered her when she thought about it.
“I considered continuing the war anyway,” Visenya blurted out then. Admitting to her half-brother what she could admit to nobody else, with the sole exception of her son.
“The swords of the Stormlands would have supported you,” Orys promised and Visenya nodded. Perhaps they could have forced Aegon’s hand. If they worked in concert and continued the fight anyway. Aegon would have had no choice. Yet she returned to Dragonstone and Orys to Storm’s End.
“Just another mistake to add to the pile,” Visenya repeated a phrase Maegor liked to use. He said mistakes should be taken as “learning experiences” and she found that line of thinking good. Some mistakes you could not recover from but she had learned to try and look at mistakes from a new angle..
“It seems we both have plenty of those now,” Orys said after taking a long sip of his Arbor Gold and Visenya did her best to comfort him.
“I believe it comes with old age,” Visenya said with a small smile and Orys returned one.
“Damn it all… just one or two changes and all would be well,” Orys bemoaned and Visenya raised her eyebrow once more.
“Oh?” she let out a sound of interest at that. Perhaps her younger half-brother was more like her than she thought.
“Had the crown prince been born a crown princess or not even born at all, I doubt we would be in such circumstances,” Orys said with a knowing look and Visenya nodded proudly.
“Of course not, my son can not even be compared to that weakling,” Visenya said with a momentary look of pride.
“Let us hope you are correct on that one, Sister,” Orys said, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Visenya’s interest was piqued once more.
“Do elaborate,” Visenya said readily. She was hardly as glued into Westeros as Orys was and this conversation had been a hundred times more interesting than she could have hoped for.
“The whispers spreading around the kingdom, Aegon is deaf to them but they are being heard all the same. Questions about Princess Rhaena and Prince Aegon, the banishment of the well-liked warrior prince, and now Aegon is not even reacting to entire armies forming and going east. Something is brewing, Sister. I just know it,” Orys let out a dire warning and Visenya could only stare at him.
It all made sense of course. It was an oversight she could not place the blame solely on Aegon. She, Aegon, Rhaenys, and Orys did not use their youth to fully break Westeros. It was a chained beast but a beast all the same. Merely waiting for a chance to bite its new master.
“This is why you worry about Aenys,” Visenya deduced then and there. Orys could see much farther than she could, even though ironically she was the one with the dragon’s eye view.
“Yes, Rhaenys’s boy is not ready for war. He fears a war with Dorne, and they are barely even a kingdom at this point! Especially after you and Aegon let your wrath be known,” Orys continued with a sigh and Visenya made her thoughts known then.
“Then let us hope Aenys sees reason and brings Maegor back, as I doubt House Targaryen’s salvation will come from the foolish Seahorse’s brood,” Visenya laid out her thoughts and Orys let out a resigned smile.
“Let us hope, let us hope indeed.”
Martyn I
31AC
The sounds of wedding bells were supposed to signal a joyous occasion. A holy union between two souls, forever bound together in marriage. Yet Martyn Hightower was not joyous on this day.
‘Today is the wedding of your sister, try to smile a little,’ the words of his father rang in Martyn’s head but the frown persisted.
‘She should be marrying a prince, not a mere nobleman,’ Martyn thought with another frown. He said the same words to his father earlier that day but he could not stop thinking it. He was trying his absolute best to be positive for his little sister’s special day but it was a struggle.
House Hightower was the most prestigious one left in the Reach. With several millennia of history behind their name. Their control over Oldtown and ties to the Faith of the Seven should have netted them prestige and honors unrivaled in the lands. Yet the damnable dragon king and his spawn saw differently.
For years House Hightower agreed to the myriad of delays to the wedding between Prince Maegor and his darling little sister. For years House Hightower was more than happy to place their trust in King Aegon. Pay the dowry in advance as a sign of goodwill and even do their best to stamp out some of the complaints about the abominations on the Iron Throne.
Yet their kindness was repaid with naught but betrayal and contempt. Their trust was betrayed with Prince Maegor breaking off the betrothal seven days before the wedding is to take place.
Such an absolute humiliation of not only his house but most seriously, his sister. Could not have been allowed to stand unpunished. Yet King Aegon refused to force the issue, instead settling on the banishment of the damnable prince instead of doing what was just.
Martyn recalled his rage boiling over after that day, an endless sea of boiling hot rage bubbled up within him and he perhaps spoke out of turn. But he spoke naught but the truth, and all he got for it was another humiliation.
‘It would be best if you resigned and went back to Oldtown.’ Martyn could still recall the words King Aegon had used to dismiss him. Like he still wanted to keep them on his side despite the sheer level of humiliation layered onto their nothing-but-loyal house.
No more, however. Their house had already decided, and the Iron Throne had voided their mandate, if King Aegon could not control his son that meant he was weaker than expected. ‘Perhaps the Reach may one day be ruled by a proper king,’ Martyn thought with a now devious smile before a hand was placed on his shoulder.
“Try to calm yourself,” the voice of his new kin whispered into his ear and Martyn stiffened.
Creyse should have married a prince. Be tied into the family of dragons and the rulers of all Westeros. Yet Martyn supposed that marrying into the golden lions was not so bad of a second option. Lucion Lannister was not the best option, but unfortunately, Lord Lyman Lannister was already married to House Tarbeck, so their options were rather slim.
Regardless, cementing the ties between the Reach and the West once more, even if it was done through a second son, was not a bad prize to win after all the betrayal and misfortune. Martyn just hoped his sister would find happiness at this rate.
“Apologies, this anger is not directed toward you,” Martyn promised and Lyman nodded knowingly.
“I figured, how about we have a discussion about why you are so angry after this wedding?” Lord Lyman offered and some hope began to spring in Martyn’s chest. Was he not the only one who saw the injustices wrought upon them? Was he not the only one who saw how House Targaryen would bring nothing but ruin to Westeros?
The new hope that Martyn had all but consumed him for the rest of the day. His anger at the situation still kept a smile off his face but the prospect of getting to speak with like-minded individuals kept a frown off of it too.
So Martyn properly joined the wedding. Doing his best to rid himself of the dour mood he found himself in. Thoroughly partaking in the extravagant wedding that Lyman Lannister prepared for his younger brother.
The wedding celebrations lasted long into the night. With the bards not leaving until the sun had already gone down and the bedding had taken place. But it was then that the moment Martyn had been waiting for arrived.
…
“Good evening, my lords,” Lyman opened the floor of their small secluded room in the Rock, and the four-man group all smiled.
It was a mirrored image, truthfully. On one side sat Lord Lyman Lannister and his brother, and Martyn’s new goodbrother, Lord Lucion Lannister. Meanwhile, on his side sat himself, heir apparent to the Hightower and his little brother, Morgan Hightower, commander of the Faith Militant in Oldtown.
Two sets of brothers, now kin because of a particularly well-placed marriage. Each with vastly different standings. One Lord Paramount, one commander of a city watch, one heir to the strongest seat in the Reach, and one commander of the largest chapter of Warrior Sons. All were different, yet it seemed they all just might be in agreement.
“So, shall we begin?” Morgan said to his right and the three all shared a look. Blue and Green eyes darted around the room.
“I think we should first begin with an oath of secrecy. Do you all swear to take what is mentioned in this room to the grave? Never to be shared with another soul?” Lord Lyman began and Martyn and the other two readily nodded and swore the oath.
“With that squared away, we shall begin, Ser Morgan,” Lyman said with a small smile, barely visible in the dark room but sinister all the same.
“Very well, what shall be done about His Grace,” Martyn began with a snarl. His hatred for King Aegon still burned hot. Only surpassed by his hatred for the foolish prince who picked a white-haired whore over his darling little sister.
“What is there to do? King Aegon sits atop a throne surrounded by loyalists. Just look at his new Small Council appointment for proof,” Lucion answered, and if it were not for their new familial ties. Martyn would have been more upset at the indirect mention of his dismissal.
“Westeros is not blind to what happened almost two years ago. Especially not the lords and the faith. King Aegon had quite the big wedding planned when his son made his blunder,” Lyman spoke cryptically, not displaying the full picture for his little brother.
‘Is their family different?’ Martyn queried momentarily. He shared everything with his brother Morgan. He may have joined the faith instead of becoming his hand but they were still thick as thieves.
“You think that can lead to rebellion?” Lucion whispered, despite the secluded nature of their small room and the oath of secrecy.
“Perhaps not that on its own, but King Aegon has shown his weakness,” Martyn said this time. Oh how long he had waited to utter that phrase in welcoming company. His father was upset at the broken betrothal but he was still cowed by the idea of the Conqueror. Not who their king had become.
“Weakness that should have been known from the beginning, he sinned prior to and after he was anointed by the High Septon. It was only a matter of time before the Seven let their will be known,” Morgan spoke up next and Martyn agreed. He was certainly not as religious as his little brother. Prefering politics and managing a lordship to fighting and prayer but he believed in the seven as much as any man.
The idea that House Targaryen was somehow special was laughable. They may have overgrown lizards but they were still men, and all men were subjects of the Seven. The Targaryens and their faithless followers can proclaim themselves above even the gods but they are wrong, and they will soon learn.
“What makes you say that he is weak? He still rides the Black Dread and he cast out his son with a righteous fury,” Lucion continued to play Stranger’s advocate. For what reason, Martyn did not know. But perhaps he was just wary of King Aegon still.
“It is precisely because he cast his son out. It is no secret that Prince Maegor was well-liked. Prior to his banishment at least,” Lyman finally tossed his little brother a rope with which to pull himself up.
It irked Martyn to say it but Lyman was correct. Maegor was shockingly popular with the nobility of the Seven Kingdoms. At least what he noticed from his position in King’s Landing. Slaying the robber knight in the Riverlands got his name out there but it was his campaign in the Stepstones which really enraptured so many Westerosi. To the point, some were motivated enough to follow him into exile.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Lucion answered, still confused.
“It only adds up once you have the entire picture in front of you, Lucion,” Martyn decided to throw him another rope this time. He hoped his goodbrother was just out of the loop and not just a simpleton, for his sisters and future nephew’s sake.
“King Aegon rules a relatively new Kingdom, with a weak heir, no reliable spare to speak of, and has just shown his first sign of weakness since the Dornish War. This is precisely the opportunity we need,” Martyn said plainly and clearly. They were all conspirators here, and had sworn an oath to take what was spoken to the grave.
“This sign of weakness is the army that left the Crownlands, yes?” Lucion asked as if he already knew the truth.
“Exactly, King Aegon is doing nothing as thousands of his subjects defy the King’s Peace. This is after insulting our great house with a broken betrothal after years of delays,” Martyn spoke with venom once more. King Aegon had already sealed his fate.
“So what do you plan to do? Call his bluff? He still rides Balerion, any fight against that demon is folly,” Lucion spoke and Martyn was prepared to rebuke him but Lyman answered first.
“King Aegon is likely still untouchable, Balerion remains too great a threat to risk. Even if we believe he will not ride out against another army. He has many followers and loyalists who would do so for him,” Lyman spoke in favor of Lucion and Martyn despaired.
“So you would have us do nothing? What was the purpose of this meeting then?” Martyn snarled.
“That is not what I said, but this is the foot in the door that we need. Think back to what you said Martyn, King Aegon has a weak heir,” Lyman smiled wickedly, like a cat who had just caught its prey.
“So you would have us conspire against Prince Aenys? King Aegon could yet live for another twenty years!” Martyn remained enraged, the prospect of being unable to enact his vengeance upon the man who had humiliated him so was too egregious to ignore.
“You have too little faith, elder brother. The Seven have already shown us their will. King Aegon has voided the chance the High Septon so graciously afforded him,” Morgan spoke up again and Martyn stared at him incredulously. He would rather not put his chance for justice in the hands of the Seven. Who while righteous, were often fickle in their ways.
“Prince Aenys offers us a much greater chance at overthrowing our abominable overlords. Compare him to his father for a moment. Half the wit, less than half the strength, rides a puny dragon, and is so weak-willed he may as well be a woman,” Lyman offered a scathing description of Prince Aenys, one which Martyn agreed with.
“So what do we use this chance for then? This foot we have in the door?” It was Martyn’s turn to ask for the rope. Uncertain of what his new goodbrother had planned.
“To gather allies and plan for the coming chance Prince Aenys will no doubt give us,” Lyman said with a cocksure smile, visible even in the dim light of their secluded dark room.
“No doubt?” Lucion said from his position to Lyman’s left. Clearly looking for assurance from his elder brother. Martyn intently listened too, he figured he had Prince Aenys figured out but perhaps Lord Lyman had better sources of information.
“Prince Aenys is a weak-willed simpleton. He let his three and ten-name-day-old brother ride out to deal with the Giant of the Trident in his stead, he did not fight in the Stepstones, again leaving it to his brother. Prince Aenys will allow us just the opportunity we need. It is our duty to prepare for it,” Lyman spoke as if it were a forgone conclusion. Like Morgan but with no religious tones.
“He may be weak but what of those around him? The Kingsguard are the greatest knights in the realm and the Small Council is certainly not incompetent,” Lucion spoke again, clearly not convinced.
“The Kingsguard are true knights to be sure, but they pale in comparison to those who devoted their lives to the Seven and the defense of the faith,” Morgan spoke up again, clearly insulted by the insinuation.
“Discount the Kingsguard, for they are just seven men, men who could very well be swayed with the right words,” Lyman began and appeared to wink at Morgan, but the light was too dim for Martyn to tell for certain.
“The Small Council is similarly swayable, not to mention their loyalties are not so guaranteed, Prince Aenys merely needs to make a great enough mistake that the entire Kingdom is stunned,” Lyman spoke clearly and concisely, like he had already been planning for years.
“What possible mistake could he make to do that? He has advisors around him who will surely counsel him properly,” Lucion spoke again and Lyman hummed before starting.
“If I had to guess, Prince Aenys will continue the same sin he was born from,” Lyman said with a look of disgust plastered on his shadowed face, with a similar look soon adorning the other three faces in the room.
“Surely not, no man could be so foolish when already instructed in the teachings of the Seven,” Morgan spoke with an appalled tone.
“I unfortunately think that Prince Aenys will force onto his children the same damning sin that will send his father to the seven hells. Just look at the discussion around the future marriages of Princess Rhaena and Prince Aegon. Any respectable lord would at least like to know his options, yet neither King Aegon nor Prince Aenys have even hinted at possible betrothals,” Lyman continued, the same disgusted tone coloring his voice.
“King Aegon has already rejected an incestous match, no? Prince Maegor was once considered for a betrothal with Princess Rhaena,” Martyn said, recalling what his father mentioned to him years ago.
“He was bribed into a better match, even if it did not end up working out,” Lyman dismissed quickly.
Lyman Lannister’s words were disgusting but convincing all the same. Martyn could see it in the dark eyes of each man at the table. The same line of reasoning, the same thoughts. Prince Aenys was surely going to throw away his right to rule, whether that be by incompetence or sin.
“Then how shall we begin planning? Casually bringing this up to other lords is a great way for King Aegon to find out,” Lucion said then, now fully bought into Lyman’s ideas.
“We must be discreet about this, I am certain you are not all as foolish as King Aegon and actually have proper networks of informants. Not all nobles are as capable or thoughtful as us. If whispers of a disloyal house appear, test them to see if they may be amenable. Other than that, prepare foodstuffs and equipment for war, and make sure to not let our plans slip in the meantime,” Lyman said simply but one more thing was grating on Martyn Hightower.
“Before we end this lovely discussion and begin preparing. What is to be done about Prince Maegor?” Martyn said with a returned snarl. Prince Maegor was the one man in the world Martyn hated more than King Aegon. The damnable prince had rejected his darling little sister at every turn. Delayed the match numerous times, even breaking the betrothal. His final insult to his poor sister was choosing exile with his freakish albino whore over a proper marriage.
“So long as he remains in godless Essos, he is no issue to us,” Morgan interjected, earning a glare from Martyn.
“Godless? He is in Old Andalos as we speak,” Lucion said with an incredulous look sent Morgan’s way.
“The people there have lost their way. They rejected the Father’s call to sail to Westeros. They earned their fate under Valyrian boots,” Morgan said with a fiery tone.
“And what if he does not remain in Essos? What if his brother calls for him to return?” Martyn cut through the argument before it could continue. They were almost done here, the last thing they needed was a screaming match.
“Then he will be killed, he has no Kingsguard and even the Dornish could get close enough to King Aegon and Queen Visenya to threaten their lives,” Lyman said, earning a questioning look from the rest of the table.
“Besides, with all his moves in Essos. Why would Prince Maegor answer the call? Leave all he has acquired in Essos to rot?” Lyman shrugged.
“Familial ties?” Lucion once more tried to play Stranger’s advocate.
“The same family that banished him? Come now Lucion, use your mind. Prince Maegor has nothing to gain from coming to support his brother. Especially with all he has gained in Pentos,” Lyman continued and it looked like Lucion was swayed once more.
“So we are just going to ignore Prince Maegor?” Martyn asked, almost dumbfounded at Lyman’s confidence.
“Prince Maegor is just one man, a young man without half the strength of character as his father. He is not the threat you think him to be,” Lyman once more tried to reassure him and Martyn let it.
He would continue to plan behind the scenes. The mere chance of getting revenge on the worthless prince was too enticing to let slip between his fingers but he had bigger things to worry about. They had a rebellion to plan.
“Then I wish you all luck, my lords. May our efforts be fruitful,” Lyman said with a quick slap to the table before standing up.
Martyn and Morgan followed the Lannisters out of the room but Martyn continued thinking. Hope had resurfaced in his chest, even if it was not exactly what he wanted.
‘You will rue the day you slighted House Hightower, King Aegon,’ Martyn thought with a sneer. Plans and likely allies were already popping into his head. Westeros may be in chains but their master had loosened his grip, and he would lose everything because of it.
Comments
Morel
They didn’t support Aegon and Rhaena. They just refused to hand them over to Maegor. Which shows that they have a rebellious streak. Not to mention that Aegon has shown weakness and they see a chance at independence.
Mars Salvador
Why the lannisters starting a coup when they supported aegon and rhaena during maegor reign in the original?
Morel
Hmm, certainly an interesting take. Would Maegor really turn his nieces and nephews away out of hand if what you said comes to pass? Not to mention the only Velaryon he has issues with is Alyssa. If you read the edits to chapter 31, Maegor is considering Daemon Velaryon's daughter as a potential match for Daeron or Baelor if he cannot get a sister or cousin for them.
Bobby Hill
Doesn't take much to see where this is going. Let me guess, Maegor will choose what he has in Essos and Aenys will Die, leaving his family to flee to House Velaryon, who will also be besieged. House Velaryon is then forced to flee to Maegor, where he largely stays out if not outright telling them to fuck off before the Hightowers drag him into this.
Sukhraj Singh
I see, it looks like the Hightowers are planing a rebellion for when Aegon finally dies, they are banking on Aenys being a weak king and Maegor not returning to help him when the rebellion breaks out. Its fortunate that they do not know Maegor at all, as Maegor does genuinely love his brother and will come to his aid when the time comes, and he will be coming with a battle hardened army at his back. I hope that in this story, Maegor will not hesistate to burn Oldtown to the ground and kill the High Septon and the Most Decount, sometimes the only way to hammer the message in it to make it absolutely clear that the old world is dead and not returning. Even if the Westerlands decide to support the Faith in its uprising, the most they can do is hide in their mountain while Maegor depopulates the Westerlands via dragonfire, it will be hard to be lord of anything, if you do not have any people. If Alyssa causes problems when Maegor returns I hope that Visenya or Shiera or Maegor will arrange for her die and remove any influence she has on her children.
Loyalist
Aegon is proving himself quite the selfish person I understand not wanting to interfere or being angry to Maegor but such an indifference towards his son is simply inexcusable and stupid I mean, your son won the greatest battle since the Wars of Spices between Valyria and the Ghiscari, more people died then during the field of fire and he did everything with a single dragon. He practically destroyed the army of a major player in the power balance of Essos. Thing are going to change and there will be consequences. Aenys proved himself a coward. Sad because he doesn’t seem as useless as Viserys, hopefully Maegor will help him and push him on the right path. At least he is a good parent and loves his sibling. In that he is already better than Aegon. Still think that it would be hilarious if Rhaena developed a crush on ( or fell in love with) Maegor. Can you imagine how Alyssa would react?🤣 Orys and Visenya are right in saying that trouble is brewing and when it will come, hopefully Aenys will be ready for Fire and Blood. Then again, maybe Maegor reputation will help scaring some people, since here he is a proven warrior and dragon rider So sad that Visenya didn’t go and conquer Dorne herself. It would have been nice to get revenge for Orys and Visenya. Finally a nice sibling moment for our Queen❤️ I really appreciated the changes you made to chapter 25 It’s much more descriptive and it gives us a better perspective on how the candles work in that context. Beautiful chapter and can’t wait for more ❤️
Morel
Lmao, burning a city of well over 500k people to the ground would be risky and why burn down what you can take over?
Bobby Hill
Perhaps you should have Raymont Baratheon go east as well? Canonically nobody knows what happened to him after he prevented Aenys' assassination but I'm sure he died to Maegor at some point. So perhaps in this TL Raymont instead goes east, and joins Maegor's Sellsword company. As for the Company, you should have Maegor organize it along the standards of the Roman Legion where instead of alot of Eagle heraldry, it finds itself with Dragon Heraldry. I also suggest burning Pentos to the ground and rebuilding it under a new name to denote your intentions. Perhaps the City should be called... Rome?
Mrsean22
Well Aegon is basically doing nothing. Which isn't a surprise. Aegon isn't gonna do anything if someone actually rebels but that isn't gonna happen long as Aegon lives. Aenys is just trying to enjoy his life with with kids which is understandable. Though Aenys has some political smarts it's ruined by him not wanting to act. Visenya going to the Vale and Stormlands to gather volunteers to help Maegor and basically join the Sellsword company. Not surprising the Vale wanting to go. They have a pretty good opinion of Visenya and Maegor. Stormlands is more a open question but can see some knights and second sons going but yeah Marchers can't go. Visenya and Orys seem to agree Aenys isn't a strong ruler so they are expecting rebellions in the future. With thinking Aenys is going to fail or call back Maegor to fix everything. Which sounds about right even if Alyssa argues against bringing Maegor and his line back.
Morel
I was actually planning on mentioning her but Argella never really fit into this chapter. I was planning on Visenya and Orys remarking that if Orys had a daughter all of their troubles would be solved. Argella is alive. Unfortunately, I could not figure out a way to put this in the chapter.
Amit Efraim
yooo thanks for the chapter its nice to see Visenya pov again and hear of the accomplishment of maegor in the east
Arcturus
Yeah mommy Visenya the best!!! Let's more warriors go to Black Army(or Black Legion, or even Sons of Maegor hello Warhammer, not sure what autor would like to name this army)😁😁😁👍 Aegon as always magot pussy and Aenys weakling idiot without spine. Only true Dragonlord and scion of Valyria could save House of Dragon and Westeros' unity🤝 What about Argella by the way? Is she still alive or not? If not, you know Visenya and Orys are both adult people with their needs and they trust each other the most in this world right? After all family business is such Targaryen' thing 😏🙃
