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A Dragon Kissed by Sun Chapter 21 (A Dream of The Past)
🕑 Added 2022-01-20 07:11:10 +0000 UTCToday is my birthday so I made an early update for all of my stories, I hope you enjoy it.
Jon Sand
The bastard looked at the old man. Jon's eyes widened at the name he spoke; he'd read about Brynden Rivers, or Bloodraven, the House Targaryen's Bastard. Jon had read about the Valyrian Sword "Dark Sister". The book mentioned that the last owner known was Brynden Rivers, who had disappeared beyond the Wall.
Jon had read about the man, who had committed sorcery and was suspected of being the lover of Shiera Seastar, the most beautiful woman who had ever existed.
He had been sent to the Wall for crimes against the Crown.
"Ho-how are you alive?" The young prince asked, his mind repeating what the Great Bastard had called him, "Young Prince." Why is it that I'm not a Prince, or is it because of who my father is? Jon asked himself, since the commander of Sunspear always calls him Prince, and so does Uncle Doran from time to time.
But he wasn't a prince, as far as he knew. The old man smiled at the young man.
"I'm not the only old Targaryen that is still alive, and to answer your question, I brought you here," Brynden spoke with a calm and warm tone towards Jon.
"Why did you call me 'young prince'?" Jon asked with curiosity. He wondered how much Sarella would give to be here instead of him; his big sister was too curious for her own good.
At the question, the old man pressed his lips tightly, almost wanting to say something to him, as if hiding some big secret. Finally, after minutes of silence, Brynden looked at the young dragon again.
"That's not important right now, young prince," he said. Jon understood that he wouldn't get an answer from him.
"How did you bring me here? And why? " Jon inquired, perplexed; he still felt something; why was a Targaryen conversing with him?
"To ensure the survival of the future, Brynden spoke in a melancholy tone, recalling what had happened to his family in King's Landing, and how they had ended up starving in Braavos.
Before Jon could ask what he meant, everything went dark.
They had meant to engage the Valemen on the coast of Gulltown, but their fleet was smaller than the fleet the Valemen had managed to gather, and it would surely have meant the deaths of countless men. Visenya had decided to spare their men that, and so she had ordered Daemon to stand down, then she had flown on Vhagar's back above the ships of the Valemen, who had simply watched her with awe and fear, and then onto the Vale properly. She had seen mountain men throw down their weapons and pray. She had seen farmers cry out as her dragon had covered the sun. And then she landed in the Eyrie, where the guardsmen did not know what to do with her. Sharra Arryn had been out for a morning walk when she landed. The woman had dismissed her guards, and now they were sitting on chairs on the lawn.
The woman had confidence. Visenya would give her that. In an odd way, she reminded her of Rhaenys, with the way she held herself and the way she seemed. She had a shock of brown hair and green eyes that felt as though they were looking right into her soul. Lady Sharra spoke then. "I presume you have come to threaten me? I had thought you would engage your dragon in burning my fleet." There was no courtesy title at the end of that, Visenya let it drop, though it grated her.
"We had considered it, but then we decided against it. There was no point in burning the fleet and costing more men their lives when we could come and speak with you here and now and end this. " Visenya said.
Sharra Arryn snorted. "You use the royal 'we', a phrase not heard here since my kingly husband died some three years ago. I admit I am impressed. "
"Why do you not use it? Do you claim to be a Queen? Do you not? " Visenya asked.
Sharra Arryn sighed. "Things are different here. A statute was issued by King Ronnel III, that only the wives of reigning monarchs could use the royal "we", not former Queen Consorts. And as such, it has stuck. My husband died before he could change it."
"How very odd." Visenya said. She found it odd that her mother had used the "we" used by the dragonlords long after their father had died, until her own death.
"And you are married to your brother and sister, that is also very odd to me." Sharra Arryn replied.
Visenya laughed. "We are sure that there are many who find it odd, and yet we have fifteen thousand men currently fighting for us from the lands belonging to House Durrandon."
Sharra Arryn looked at her then and said "Perhaps it has something to do with the three dragons your family has. Your dragon is the smallest of the lot, is she not? "
Visenya smiled. "The smallest, aye, but the fiercest." Vhagar answered with a puff of smoke and a rumble.
Sharra Arryn sighed. "So tell me then, if you are not going to engage the fleet, what are you going to do?"
"We shall speak with you." Visenya said. "There is no reason for more blood to be spilled. House Arryn is an old and noble house. You need not send more men to die. Simply bend the knee, and our brother and King shall recognise your son as Lord of the Eyrie, Lord Paramount of the Vale and Warden of the East. "
"And how much power will my son have?" Sharra asked.
"Your son will have the power to summon his lords to fight for the crown. Your son will have the power to collect taxes on behalf of the crown, and he will have the right to arrange his own marriage." Visenya said.
"What about setting his laws?" Sharra asked. "The laws of the Vale are some of the oldest in the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms."
"As of now, your son and the Vale are free to follow the same laws and customs that you do. All that is required is that you and your son bend the knee. " Visenya replied simply.
"So, my son is King in all but name?" Sharra asked.
Visenya laughed; she knew the woman would have asked that. "No, not in name. He is a Lord Paramount. He cannot act with impunity. We shall ensure that he remains loyal to the throne, or he will face the wrath of the Dragon. Furthermore, the mountain clans have already sworn their loyalty to the Crown. "
Sharra looked at her and exclaimed. "How have you managed to achieve that?"
Visenya smiled. "We have our ways. Furthermore, having a dragon does help deal with savages."
There was a moment's pause, and then the woman said, "You know that there will be some in the Vale and elsewhere who will look at you and your brother and sister and see only abominations. They will not bend to you. "
Visenya raised an eyebrow. "And are you one of those people, my lady?"
Sharra clapped her hands, and two knights bearing the falcon of House Arryn appeared. "Get His Majesty." She said
The two knights bowed, and then hurried off to do as they were bid. They returned shortly afterward, with a boy of eight, he had brown hair, blue eyes and a strong jaw. "Mother, what is happening?" the boy asked.
Sharra Arryn gestured for her son to come close, and in that moment, Visenya felt a pang. She wanted a child of her own. She watched as the woman whispered something to her son and then saw the boy turn to look at her. He held himself up high and tall. "Queen Visenya, we are willing to submit to your terms on one condition."
Visenya quirked an eyebrow. "Go on, my King."
"We wish to have a ride on your dragon, for we have read much about them and wish to see what it is like to fly." The boy king said
Visenya smiled, admiring the boy's bravery. "We would be very happy to grant this request."
"Very well." The boy king replied. He got down on one knee before her, as did his mother, and together they said, "We, Ronnel and Sharra of House Arryn, hereby acknowledge you, Visenya of House Targaryen, as our rightful Queen, as well as your brother, His Majesty Aegon Targaryen, as our rightful King, and your sister Rhaenys Targaryen as our rightful Queen. We swear to pledge our undying loyalty before ice and fire and before the Seven Gods of Andalos, we pledge before the gods old and new."
Visenya smiled, helped the boy and his mother up, and said "We, Visenya of House Targaryen, Queen of Westeros, accept your oath of fealty, and in our King's name, recognise you, Ronnel Arryn, as Lord of the Eyrie, Lord Paramount of the Vale, and Warden of the East."
Once that was done, she said, "Come, young Ronnel, let us ride." She took his hand and helped him onto Vhagar's back. They flew twice around the Eyrie, down to Gulltown, and then back again. The boy got off when they landed. He thanked her and then Visenya said. "We shall wish to receive the fealty of your lords. Summon them to Gulltown." With that, she mounted her dragon and flew off to tell Daemon what had happened.
Riverrun
Edmyn steeled himself. He had kissed his wife and son and headed out from Riverrun some time ago. He had been preparing himself for this moment for weeks now. Ever since Aegon the Dragon had landed in the Blackwater lands and declared himself King of Westeros, Edmyn had known that things would never be the same again. He had gotten the news that Qoren had declared for Aegon the Dragon some two days ago and had been quite relieved at that. It showed his brother by marriage had some sense and that he would not have to see his sister made a widow.
Torrhen Stark's army joined theirs some three days ago as well. Stark was a king and therefore had taken overall command of the combined forces, though Edmyn was still in charge of the Riverlands forces. Stark was a sombre man who said little, apart from when it was absolutely necessary. He had shown he had a good military brain, though. The plan he had come up with to handle the Ironborn who had come to aid their king had been quite brilliant. Now it was simply a case of ensuring that the fighting went as they hoped it would. as they wanted it to.
Edmyn had asked for command of the vanguard of this host, and been given it. The vanguard was made up of men from Riverrun and her retainers alongside men from House Charlton and her retainers also. Alongside northmen from the southern north and the Twins. In total, it numbered some eight thousand. About the size of the host that had come under the command of Lord Desmond Goodbrother to aid Harren Hoare. Edmyn took a breath, looked at his cousin Ser Tristifer, nodded, heard the sound of a horn being sounded and then took his lance from his squire. He knew that perhaps he should give a speech, but there was not much he could say that would be appropriate. His men already knew what they were fighting for.
Edmyn spurred his horse on. The animal cantered forward, his lance held solidly in his hand. It weighed a tonne but would be worth the pressure to ensure that all went well. The enemy came into view then. Bracken commanded the enemy's vanguard. The man was proud and stubborn and had more sons than perhaps he knew what to do with. Edmyn's heart quickened. He felt it move into his throat, or at least that's what it felt like. His lance hit a man wearing the horse of Bracken and he saw the man go down. Another man came and the same happened to him.
Edmyn felt the brunt of the attack when someone else's lance came and glanced against his shoulder. He managed to push that down, but then his own lance broke. Deciding there was no point in panicking about that, he drew his sword and prepared to fight. An enemy came. This one bore the colours of a piper. Edmyn cut the man down, but knew he had not killed him. Another man came. Edmyn and he fought brutally. They exchanged blows, dancing across the pathway, this way and that. He felt his body take a battering and felt as if he were choking.
As more and more men came into the fold, the battle became a mess. Bodies were piling up all over the place, and nothing seemed to be calming it down. He did not know where Bracken had gotten to, but there were plenty of people for him to fight and worry about. He kept an eye on his own men and saw Ser Tristifer cut down by a man wielding a double-headed axe. He felt his anger grow and wanted to go to the man and help him, but found that his way was blocked. Instead, he was forced to continue a slow and terrible push this way and that.
There was no clear direction to this battle. All he knew was that if he stopped, he would die. Edmyn thought of his wife and their son and knew he could not die. His wife would never forgive him if he died. And so, he kept fighting. Slowly but surely, the horde slowed and thinned. It did not become a mess as he had feared that it might, instead it became a melee, with every man for himself. Edmyn felt his head get heavy as the pressure of battle continued. Still, he fought. He did not know what more was to come.
Edmyn took a deep breath. He wanted to keep his head above the water that he knew was slowly engulfing his mind. As he rode on, he saw someone who might have been Lord Bracken pulled down from his horse and cut into pieces. Edmyn blinked, and said a prayer. He disliked Bracken, but he knew the man was only doing what he thought right. A horn sounded somewhere, and before he knew it, there were more men approaching. They flew the Hoare banners. It seemed that the Hoare sons had decided to come to the battle.
The press became too much then. His horse was cut out from under him. Edmyn managed to straighten up and get within himself. He straightened and fought off the challengers. They came, big or small, and he fought them off as best as he could. Some were tougher than others, and he took his fair share of blows. He took a moment to break through the silence and the pain, but little changed inside his mind. He kept going and pressed himself to change and grow. Edmyn felt bone tired, though, and was desperate to keep himself balanced.
Some big fucker came then, and he was on his arse. His sword was somewhere else. He did not know what to do. Edmyn looked around for some sort of defence and found none. He closed his eyes and said a prayer. He hoped he might live, but he did not think he would. He opened his eyes as he remembered the dagger that he had seen as he had fallen. He scrambled for it and had just picked it up when the sun disappeared behind a big shadow. Through his helm, he looked up and saw a big black beast flying high in the air. His jaw dropped. Then he heard the screams.
The battle had been a brutal one, even more so than the war he had fought against Volantis all those years ago. He had seen the armies of the different kingdoms converge and fight one another. Aegon could still hear men screaming, boys crying out for their mothers, and all sorts of things he would not forget until the day he died. And then, there were the screams of horror that came when Balerion and Vhagar had gotten to work. He had known that something would come, but the two dragons had ripped through the army of Harren Hoare and his Ironborn and reduced them to ash.
They were now in Harrenhal, the great towering fortress that Harren had built. The man had died alongside his two oldest sons and his grandsons. His daughters and their husbands were there, along with his great-grandson, also named Harren, and the boy's mother. Qoren Hoare, the son who had bent the knee to Aegon, was there alongside his pregnant wife. The lords of the Riverlands were there, or at least those who had not fought and died for Harren Hoare, and then there were the Northmen, led by Torrhen Stark.
Aegon cleared his throat, and everyone looked at him. "My lords and ladies, thank you all for coming. We are here today to discuss the future of Westeros. " He paused, sought the right words, and continued. "For many years, House Hoare ruled over the Riverlands and the Iron Islands. However, Harren Hoare and his immediate heirs died during the Battle of the Willows, and therefore, his remaining heirs are his great-grandson, a babe who shares his name, and his adult son, Qoren. " Aegon gestured at the man who stood before him. "We have consulted with the maesters of the Riverlands and our own Maester Kennet and the Commander of the Warrior Sons, and we have decided that the Riverlands must have an adult to rule over it. There is much more that must be decided, but for now, we are willing to settle the future of Harrenhal and the Riverlands. " With that, he cleared his throat and said. "Qoren Hoare, come here."
The man stepped forward and kneeled. Aegon drew Blackfyre and placed his sword on either shoulder. "We now knight you, Ser Qoren of House Hoare, a true and valiant knight."
The man nodded, then said, " And I, Qoren of House Hoare, hereby pledge my life, as well as the lives of my wife, unborn child, and future descendants, to you, King Aegon of House Targaryen, King of Westeros.I swear it by ice and by fire, by land and sea. "
"Rise, then, Ser Qoren, Lord of Harrenhal and Lord Paramount of the Riverlands." Aegon said, helping the man to his feet. There were cheers, Aegon nodded to the man and then allowed him to return to his post.
"Now, Lord Bracken and his heirs died during the Battle of the Willows, they wished to continue fighting for the man they believed was their rightful King. However, Lord Bracken's brother, Ser Olyver remains present in the Warrior Sons, we have asked him if he wished to take up the Lordship, he refused, and therefore, we have decided to arrange a marriage between Lord Bracken's granddaughter, Lady Jonella Bracken and our own trusted friend Ser Aerion Towers." There were murmurs at this but Aegon ignored them. "Come forward, both of you."
Ser Aerion was a big bull of a man, though he was quite handsome despite that. He was a good fighter and soldier. Lady Jonella had a shock of brown hair and lovely green eyes. She was not bad to look at. The betrotheds kneeled before him and said their vows. "We do hereby recognise you, Aegon, of House Targaryen, as King of Westeros. From this day until our last, we swear by ice and fire to uphold your laws and defend you and your family.
"Rise," Aegon said. "We recognize you as Lord and Lady of Stone Hedge."
Then other lords and ladies appeared from the Riverlands, swore their vows, and Aegon acknowledged them as Lords and Ladies of their holdings.Once that was done, he turned to the matter of the Iron Islands. "Harren Hoare ruled the Iron Islands as its King, though he did not visit them as often as he should have done. Lord Qoren has said he does not wish to rule over the Iron Islands, having never visited the region during his life. Therefore, we were left with an issue. After much thought and consideration, we have decided that Vickon Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke, being married to Harren Hoare's eldest granddaughter, shall assume Lordship of the Iron Islands. "
Vickon Greyjoy had a great scar across his face from where he had clashed with Orys during the battle. He walked with a slight limp as well, but he bent his knee and swore his vows. He also said "I shall bring more maesters and Septons to the Iron Islands, Your Majesty, to ensure that we are on par with the rest of Westeros. I shall outlaw reaving and raping on the mainland. "
"Good." Aegon replied, helping the man rise to his feet.
From there, he turned to Torrhen Stark, and the man came forward and knelt. "I, Torrhen, of House Stark, do hereby recognise you, Aegon of House Targaryen, as King of Westeros. I swear to protect your throne and your family with my life. I swear this by ice and fire. " The other northern lords who had come with the man did the same, and Torrhen held up his crown for Aegon to take.
Aegon did just that, and said. "We recognise you, Torrhen Stark, as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. We do hereby invite your brother, Brandon Snow to become a member of our council and guard. For we are most impressed by his display of skill during the battle." There was some surprise at that, but Brandon Snow rose and stepped over to stand behind Aegon, where Visenya handed him a cloak of red and black, making him part of the dragon guard.
"Now that this issue has been decided, let us now convene to discuss the matter of the approaching army of Mern Gardener and Loren Lannister." Aegon said. He shifted slightly and then said. "You may take your seats." The lords and ladies did as they were bid. He knew that the issue of the Twins remained, but he would decide that later. He had more pressing matters to think about right now.
Jon opened his eyes again, everything dark as he watched a woman with blue flowers around her dying bed, blood fresh in the air, his breath stuck in his throat, sweat rolling down his cheek; who was this woman? He found himself asking.
The woman was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen; she reminded him so much of Alyanna. They had the same face, sharp nose, and long dark hair as a crow, but this one didn't have beautiful purple eyes, but instead almost black eyes.
"You have to live, my prince, for me, Rhaegar and Elia," The woman pleaded, looking at her swollen stomach, her hand rubbing her belly.
He saw an army through the window marching towards the tower; he wished to protect this woman. He didn't know why, but this woman was important.
Suddenly, Jon felt the temperature rising as fire surrounded the tower like a warm blanket. Outside, a dragon had landed, his wings alone more significant than the tower, his eyes as sharp as a sword, his skin like blood, breathing purple flames, but not burning them.
He saw the fire, and it was protecting them from the army; why was I not burning? He asked, seeing the fire dancing around him, yet he didn't burn.
Kivijī ynot, Ned.
Breathing heavily, he felt his heart pounding on his chest, sweat all over his face and chest; the door opened without knocking, Jon squinted at the sudden light blinding him.
"Wake up, Jon, it is time to train," his father's voice called him from the door.
After wearing his clothes, Jon followed his father, but his mind was way too busy with the strange woman he saw. She looked familiar, but Jon couldn't remember where he had seen her before.
"Father?" Jon suddenly called out from behind Oberyn as he was leading him to the training yard. His daughters were already there waiting for Jon, but strangely, his son, who usually woke up as early as possible, was late today.
"Yes, Jon,"
"Who was my mother?"
