Rhaena V
7th Moon, 47AC
Rhaena idly peered through the glass again, her light violet eyes briefly catching her reflection in the pristine myrish glass before focusing more clearly on the city outside. She let the book the Maesters had so kindly loaned to her fall flat against her growing stomach, housing the next addition to her family.
The perfectly clear glass gave way to a particularly expansive view. The tallest towers of the Citadel were shorter only than the spires of the Starry Sept and the Hightower in height within the city, which meant that her perch was now the highest point that could be reached.
She resisted the temptation to press her hand against the mildly chilly glass. Spring was upon them once more, and while the temperatures around Oldtown never dipped low enough to let snow fall, the outside was still noticeably cool. But she refrained from doing so, as she did not wish to smudge the glass.
Rhaena had no intention to foist upon her hosts more work than they already had. The Citadel had graciously offered to host her family within their walls once they arrived in the city. Given the lack of other suitable accommodations, Aegon had taken them up on the offer.
Rhaena's eyes narrowed as they traced the old roads of the city, as best as she could, anyway. Even now, years after the people of this city had foolishly chosen to fight the dragon instead of laying down their arms, it was a scarred, wounded thing.
Contrary to Aegon's perception prior to their departure in the night from King's Landing, Oldtown was not a priceless jewel that could not be passed up, not anymore, at least. It may return to that status in the future, but as of the moment, it was a far cry from what it had once been.
The very heart of the city, where the Citadel stood tall and mostly unscathed from the battle, remained as beautiful as ever. Wide, cobblestone streets cut through sturdy buildings crafted from brick and stone. People moved through them rapidly, hawking wares, fetching personal items, or simply talking with others. It made the rest of the city so much more eerie by comparison.
Oldtown was a wounded animal, a scarred beast, barely clinging to life after a fatal blow was dealt to it. The fires started in the Starry Sept and swept through the town. The oldest parts of Oldtown, the city center around the Citadel, were primarily constructed of stone, but the rest of the city was far less resistant to fire damage.
There had once been a mixture of wood and brick buildings, spreading out further and further as they approached the formerly formidable walls. Each of those homes, packed to the brim with furniture, firewood, foodstuffs, and peoplemerely served as kindling, spreading Balerion's cruel black flames.
None of those outer regions now remained. Balerion's black flames and the fighting from the men who breached the walls had reduced it all to rubble. The fires likely would have spread to the Citadel as well, spreading through carpets, plants, and soldiers if it had not been her father's priority to secure the Citadel when attacking the city.
The main thrust of the forces had been to reach the epicenter of the Maester order. The fighting had been rough, as far as she knew, but they had succeeded in securing the Citadel and managed to prevent fires from consuming the structure and nearby surroundings. They had lost too many archmaesters in the struggle, but the irreplaceable archives had survived mostly unscathed.
She had only learned once arriving in the Citadel that a few had gone missing. Likely taken by fleeing traitors or from their own soldiers, eager to pilfer some expensive texts. But the bulk of the material survived, thankfully.
Turning her eyes back out the window, she found them idly drifting to the walls of Oldtown, or what remained of them at least. Her father had intended to tear them down completely. Or more accurately, forcing the people of Oldtown to do so after they surrendered. But once most of them were killed or wounded in the fighting, that no longer became possible.
Instead, Quicksilver and Terrax destroyed the gates fully, scorching the rest of the stone and leaving the previously imposing defenses of Oldtown in a deplorable state. The guard towers were destroyed, the gates flattened, and now the walls merely encircled the city like a corset without its lacing.
Not that the people of the city needed or used them anymore. The inhabited part of the city did not reach the walls, as they were cut off from them by a sea of debris and destruction. They were now left abandoned as most of the survivors moved toward the surviving portion of the city, however, few there were.
Rhaena could not help but frown at the thought. Dead traitors did not particularly bother her, especially because those killed were the very same who were calling for the deaths of her and her children. But the weakness of Oldtown disappointed her.
The city was still a total wreck. The Citadel and her father had independently organized a few cleanup expeditions. A few roads were cleared of debris, allowing some inland trade with the countryside. But with the damage sustained by the city, there was hardly anything to trade anymore.
The artisans of Oldtown had mostly perished in the fighting and the flames, too. Centuries' worth of knowledge was wiped out in a day. Spice traders, potters, weaponsmiths, goldsmiths, and so many more skilled traditions of the city were simply gone, as there was nobody alive who remembered to do the work.
Turning her eyes idly toward Battle Isle, her small frown crept into a small smile. If there was one good thing to come from the destruction brought onto Oldtown, it was the collapse of the Hightower.
The stubborn structure had held on for a few years after it was scorched inside and out by Balerion's black flames. But eventually it gave way, just as the Andals had once they realized fighting was no longer worth the pain and death.
The fires had already done substantial damage to the harbors on the Whispering Sound, her Uncle's fleets had moved in to attack when the walls were breached, and the fighting had destroyed most of what was valuable. But it had only gotten worse for the coastline of the old city.
With the Hightower leaning precariously over the harbor, people were not eager to reoccupy the docks, despite the survival of a few of them thanks to her uncle's efforts. When the tower did finally collapse, the wave kicked up by the fall destroyed what remained of the second most important port of Westeros.
That had been two years ago, so there was some activity there now, but it was far from the former bustling hub of trade that she remembered from her youth. There was some trading of livestock, grain as well, but none of the skilled positions that Oldtown was once famous for.
Before she could hone her eyes in on a distant waving sea-green and silver flag, she felt a tug against her skirt.
"Motherrrr," a voice whined. "When are we going to eat…" the needy voice continued, accompanied by the quiet stamping of a foot.
"Soon, Aerea," Rhaena dismissed quickly, not wanting to be stuck dealing with one of her daughter's tantrums.
Her children had not taken their move to Oldtown as well as she and her husband had, and Aerea had taken it the worst out of all of them. Rhaena and Aegon could make do without some of the comforts of King's Landing or Dragonstone for a time, as she knew that Aegon had been preparing for a move for years by the time they left. But her children were not the same.
Aerea was the worst offender out of her four, but they were all quickly growing tired of their Maester hosts, and given the lackluster other options for residences within the city, Aegon and her were in quite a bind.
'Messy,' Rhaena thought, her temper flaring further. She did not fault her husband for departing for Oldtown, as they had, as she was well informed of the plan long before it was undertaken. But their quick flight also left them rather exposed, bereft of the Kingsguard, suitable housing, and most importantly, gold.
The costs of hosting the celebration with the lords were not cheap. With winter drawing to a close, food would soon be more plentiful, but with the city in dire straits, the funds they could draw on were limited.
They had personal accounts back in King's Landing. They each held pretty sizable personal allowances, with Aegon's being larger as the crown prince, but combined, they could cover the costs of this plot. But they did not exactly have access to their currency on short notice, as it was locked firmly within the already bare coffers of King's Landing, taking more out of it, especially when her father was furious, was likely not going to end well.
Luckily for them, they had not stripped the funds, so Aegon was able to secure loans from some of the more notable lords around them. While the city of Oldtown had taken a near-fatal blow, the countryside around it had not.
The region around Oldtown was the greatest that Westeros had to offer. Only the fertile valleys of the Vale rivaled the produce grown outside the walls, and with winter never truly reaching this place, food was grown in far more abundance than anywhere else.
With Westeros gripped by famine, it meant that the loyal lords in the region had made a pretty healthy profit since the fall of Oldtown, especially since they were able to loot the ruins with impunity as well.
Now they were going to finance the feast they were all prepared for. As soon as Aegon returned from the Arbor to secure the last of the gold needed and the guests finished arriving, the feast would be held just outside of the Citadel.
The positioning was not perfect, but it would have to do for now. Once they had their funds back, and commerce began to rebuild in the city, she was confident that they would have no trouble paying back the loans they needed to take out in the first place.
This whole affair had been quite troublesome, but Rhaena knew that it would be worth it in the end. The ploy to invite many lords throughout the realms to Oldtown for a celebration worked as intended, as their father had acquiesced and agreed to Aegon becoming the Prince of Oldtown. They had some obligations left to fulfill, but once they were done, they could get to the real work of building a home for themselves in Oldtown.
Rhaena tried to bring up the guest list in her mind once more. They had invited almost all the relevant lords that they could reach. Luckily for them, it was mostly the nearer lords that decided to attend.
The major names were mostly the local lords, including the brother of the current Lord Tyrell, along with the Redwynes of the Arbor, as the most prominent among them. Aegon thought it smart to reintroduce himself and his family to the Lords of the region, showing that he was a "changed man."
Of course, lords from the reach were hardly the only attendees, most of the kingdom had thankfully kindly refused the offer. But some of the more supportive houses of her husband had carved out the time to attend. Most notable among those farther houses was undoubtedly the Greyjoys, as the Ironmen were fond of her husband after his years spent winning them over.
However, the final guests to join them were undoubtedly the most important. They had only arrived a few days prior, and their support would be important in the coming years. Looking back out the window, her eyes found the waving silver and sea green flag of House Velaryon.
Her Uncle Valarr Velaryon and his family, the liaison sent by her uncle Daemon, were to attend. Their motivations were not fully clear to her or Aegon, but keeping support alive within the Velaryons would be important for Aegon's plans with the city.
"Motherrrr," Aerea whined again, stamping her foot on the ground with a ferocious pout.
"Aerea," Rhaena warned with narrow eyes, her voice angry. She was in no mood for her daughter's childish antics. They were to be presentable and ready for the feast whenever her husband returned from the Arbor. She would not allow Aerea to mess anything up.
"But…" she started, but the continued glare of Rhaena silenced her eldest daughter. Letting out a sigh after Aerea thankfully gave up, she could only lament how Aerea had turned out so troublesome.
"Mother, where is grandfather?" A quieter, more respectful voice cut through the voiced silence. Rhaena opened her narrowed eyes to find her eldest son, Gaemon, standing next to his elder sister.
"He cannot make it today, Gaemon," Rhaena said, her words technically not a lie.
Her father had accepted Aegon's victory, but her father was no longer the type of person to take attacks lying down. Aegon and her gambled greatly, angering him, and he had already begun to take his recompense for the slight Aegon had done.
For starters, he announced that he could not attend the feast. This was an expected outcome, but not a particularly great look for them. Luckily, it meant that many houses would also likely view it as acceptable to "not find the time," leaving them with a less glaring problem.
His second decision was to strip Aegon of his position as Hand of the King, stating that Aegon "Needed some time to acclimate to his new position as Prince of Oldtown." It was another expected outcome, but one that was still damaging.
The Hand of the King position was powerful, almost too powerful if her husband was anything to go by. It was only because of his position and rank that he was able to execute the scheme, and she imagined that the position would undergo some changes afterwards, to try to better limit its power.
These two actions combined were why she and Aegon were wary of the idea that their father might still let them access their personal funds. Each of them had gold in the treasury, it was not an expansive amount, but it was enough to cover the costs for this celebration and lay the groundwork for the creation of their new castle on Battle Isle.
The Hightower had collapsed, and while there was still plenty of rubble, the position of the island remained perfect for a castle. It likely wouldn't be able to fit Balerion, which was not ideal. But Aegon planned on making a Dragonpit anyway, so they would just have to find a way to make it work.
That was assuming they dug themselves out of this hole, that is, which was what Aegon was currently trying to do, much to their children's displeasure.
"But when will Father be back?" Aerea asked again, tugging on Rhaena's skirts sharply.
"Soon, Aerea," Rhaena said, tiredness pulling at her. Dealing with her eldest daughter was exhausting. Rhaella was always so much better behaved.
"But when is soon? Gaemon and I are booooored," she continued to whine.
"Do not draw your brother into your complaints, Aerea," Rhaena scolded. She had a habit of this, trying to get her siblings involved in her schemes, it was certainly problematic.
Why did she have to have such a troublesome first child? Aerea had mostly grown out of her love of playing with the hounds, thankfully. But her daughter seemingly refused to learn and just be the perfect little princess that she ought to be.
"But we are! Right, Gaemon?" Aerea said, whipping her head around to find her little brother standing idly beside her. She quickly grasped his hand with her own, and her stunned son quickly stammered out a response.
"Uhm… right!" Gaemon quickly agreed.
"Are you bored, Gaemon?" Rhaena asked, quickly subverting her eldest daughter's attempt at using her little brother to achieve her goals.
Aerea was quite the little schemer when it came to this. She was shockingly good at getting what she wanted from people. Even the Maesters in the Citadel were helpless when it came to trying to curb her more wild requests.
"A little…" he started, looking at his feet. "The books here are interesting, but when can I go see Vassarion?"
"Soon, my hatchling. Once night falls and the celebrations are done, your father will take you there," Rhaena sighed, leaning back into her chair.
One of the things she missed most from King's Landing was undoubtedly the household staff there. Unlike the Maesters here and the servants she and Aegon were screening from locals, they knew how to best handle her children.
Managing them on top of helping Aegon and dealing with another child being on the way? It was far too much, Rhaena was overwhelmed, and she could hardly find a moment to rest.
"But why can't we go flying, Mother?" Aerea asked again, tugging sharply at Rhaena's skirts. "Neltharion hasn't flown all day! He's bored!"
"You know why, Aerea. Your father is hosting many guests, and we will be there to support him," Rhaena scolded, swatting away her daughter's nagging hand.
"But he is bored, Mother. He needs to stretch his wings!" She tried again, Rhaena's anger building.
"I said no! Aerea!" Rhaena raised her voice, her daughter flinching at the sound. Gaemon looked nervously left and right, his hand still caught in that of his sister's.
"Aerea… we can't get dirty before the feast. We just got clean," Gaemon whispered, trying to calm his sister.
Before Aerea could pout further, Rhaena seized the chance. "Gaemon is right, Aerea. If you are bored, why don't you go find Rhaella and Rhaegar and read until your father returns?"
"Hmph," Aerea pouted, grinding her foot into the stone with deliberately puffed out cheeks.
Rhaena sighed deeply, preparing to admonish her unruly daughter once more, before a quiet rumble shook the tower and stopped her flat. Looking out the window once more, she saw her husband's dragon appear over the horizon, returning from the harbor.
'Thank the Gods,' Rhaena thought, grateful that her torment would soon be over. The squealing excitement of Aerea and Gaemon was hardly pleasing on the ears. But at the very least, she knew that Aegon could wrangle them in.
…
It was a laborious journey down to the entrance of the Citadel. Her advancing pregnancy made walking harder, as her feet hurt and her balance was off. But she still eagerly led her children down the many, many flights of stairs.
By the time Rhaena reached the final one, her breathing had grown shallow, and her hand clutched tightly to the stone banister. Aerea and Gaemon, freed from the constraint of waiting, darted down the last few steps ahead of her. Their laughter echoed up the stairwell, drawing amused glances from the maesters who passed them by.
"Slow down!" Rhaena ordered, her two other children being slower behind her, looking on quietly as their siblings ran straight ahead.
"Mother… are we going to be here forever?" Rhaella suddenly asked quietly, a trace of fear in her voice.
"..." Rhaena did not immediately respond, looking out toward the sky with a sigh before catching her breath enough to reply.
"Not forever, Rhaella, just for a while. Your father must secure his new domain. This is not our only home, just a new one," Rhaena said, Rhaella not exactly seeming ecstatic at the news. But at least she was not pouting like her siblings.
"Aha!" an excited voice just out of view exclaimed, followed by the excited giggles of her eldest son and daughter. Then, the love of her life appeared to cast away all of her concerns.
Holding Gaemon in his arms and swinging Aerea around by an arm, Aegon approached her and their remaining two children briskly, a wide smile plastered on his face.
Once she could finally see the perfect shade of purple of her beloved's eyes, he released his hold on Aerea's wrists and lowered Gaemon back to the ground. "Are they ready for the feast?" Aegon asked simply.
"As ready as they can be," Rhaena said with a small sigh.
Aegon narrowed his eyes and looked at Aerea's slightly frazzled hair. Aerea seemed to shrink a bit at the prospect of finally being punished, but that righteous action was subverted.
"Were you two being good little hatchlings for your mother?" he asked with a smile, returning to tickle Aerea's shoulders, poking and prodding at the squealing girl as she tried to catch her breath.
"Y-yes!" Aerea said between breaths with Gaemon following shortly behind.
"Very good, now Aerea, go and brush your hair again, and I will take you for a ride on Balerion later," Aegon said, Aerea excitedly racing back up the stairs in a rush afterwards, Gaemon hot on her heels.
Rhaella and Rhaegar remained quieter, still standing behind her, before two familiar faces appeared from behind Aegon.
"Sers Jon and Malladon?!" Rhaena exclaimed first, shocked to see two knights clad in white armor following behind Aegon.
"Princess," the two said with a bow, Aegon turning around to bid them to approach closer.
"They came with Uncle Valarr. Father said they were to protect our children, but I am not going to complain," Aegon explained.
Rhaena was just about ready to cry tears of joy. Having the Kingsguard made her feel infinitely safer and made her much less upset with her father. Despite his anger, he was still willing to give them 2 Kingsguard for protection.
They would undoubtedly feed information back to him, but she did not particularly care about that. She and Aegon had no more schemes in the works. But having the protection in this city was a godsend.
"Ser Galladon, please lead Rhaella and Rhaegar to the table. Ser Jon, go and find Aerea and Gaemon for me, please," Aegon asked, the two silently moving to fulfill their orders, leaving Rhaena alone with Aegon.
With silence finally achieved, Aegon sighed quietly, his eyes lingering on her belly. "I am sorry this had to happen now," Aegon lamented, but Rhaena quickly moved to quiet him.
"Think nothing of it, Aegon. Father forced our hand," she said, reassuring him. The last thing she needed now was him doubting himself. If he doubted himself, then they were all lost.
"Still, this is quite a mess," he said, gesturing around the city, which was quickly bustling with more and more people.
"A mess that we can clean," Rhaena said confidently. She and Aegon had been active in her father's government for years now. They knew what they were doing.
"Clean like the mess our daughter made of herself?" Aegon japed with a tired chuckle.
Rhaena huffed quietly, not being overly angry, but making her displeasure observable. "She is like that because you spoil her," Rhaena explained. It had been happening since their birth. Aegon spoiled their children too much.
"Maybe, but I think she deserves to be spoiled a little bit. She is a good girl," Aegon said, stretching lightly in his light armor.
"You are right," Rhaena quickly said, giving up her argument. She had tried to get Aegon to punish their daughter before, but it never truly amounted to anything. He was hopelessly attached to her, and she knew just how to manipulate him.
Rhaena just counted herself lucky that Aegon could still bribe their eldest daughter into doing things. If the day came when she stopped listening to Aegon… then Rhaena might have to put her foot down.
An uncomfortable silence lingered between the two of them. Aegon stared blankly into the distance while Rhaena carefully thought of what to say. She was being extra cautious so as not to anger him, especially since they were hardly in a comfortable spot.
"Rhaena…" he began, earning her full attention. "We will figure this all out," he said suddenly, brimming with confidence.
Rhaena smiled back at him. "I know."
Her confident smile was quickly dispelled, however, with a loud, excited shriek from behind her. "Ready!" the voice yelled, running up and tackling her husband by his legs.
"Amazing, my little hatchling. Now, let's go and enjoy some good food with good company," Aegon said with a smile as Gaemon ran furiously to keep up, slamming into his leg like his elder sister.
Picking up Gaemon and grabbing Aerea by the hand, the three of them made their way toward the feast grounds. Rhaena released one final, quiet sigh.
She was confident that Aegon and she would get it all figured out. But she figured it would be a bumpy ride there.
'At least we have each other,' Rhaena thought as she made to follow her family toward their future.
____________________________________________________________________________
Shiera XVII
1st Moon, 48AC
"Wow," an astonished whisper mumbled, the sound nearly snuffed out by the howling winds. But Shiera heard it loud and clear.
"Welcome to Pentos, Alysanne," Maegor said, beginning the descent with a light flick of the reins as Terrax grumbled angrily in response.
'So he did hear,' Shiera thought with a small smile as she braced herself against her husband a bit more. She had grown quite used to flying with her husband atop Terrax, but she would be a liar if she claimed it did not frighten her at least a little.
Compared to her, Alysanne remained quite calm in the saddle, idly sitting wedged between Shiera and Maegor, snugly secured with belts to the dragon. The sight brought a small smile to her face, seeing Alysanne quite relaxed in the saddle.
The little princess did not yet have a dragon. Her plain, white egg remained in the Dragonpit on Dragonstone, patiently awaiting its time to hatch. She had to commend Alysanne for her patience, as Daeron was apoplectic when he learned he had to wait for his dragon.
As if her thoughts had summoned him, Terrax's low grumble was met with a louder one from their right. The colossal Vhagar shook angrily, clearly displeased at being told to land.
Alysanne's head quickly swiveled, first looking out toward Vhagar before quickly scanning the ground below as if she had made some mistake. "Is that your palace?" she quickly asked, jutting out a finger toward the expansive compound that had since become her family's home.
"Yes, it is," Shiera answered quickly. It was fine if Maegor wanted to, but Alysanne was specifically being brought to Pentos to learn from her. So she figured she ought to get the process started.
It had been a plan long in the making. Alysanne was to one day be the Queen of Pentos. As the betrothed of her eldest son, Daeron, it was her future. Alysanne had been instructed by Essosi tutors her whole life, but simply reading books on end was hardly the best way to learn.
Besides, in Essos, Alysanne would not have to split her time, she could be devoted fully to the learning of how to be the Queen of Pentos. A task that Shiera knew to be quite taxing and laborious. One that she had to learn on the fly.
Now she did have the excellent tutelage of Visenya. But even still, Pentos was wholly unlike Westeros and even the sparse texts on Old Valyria that Visenya had deemed fit to provide her. Luckily for Alysanne, Shiera was determined to ensure that she was not unprepared.
All of her children had been educated on how to handle the Pentoshi state from birth. Even her daughters, Visenya and Daenys, were undergoing the same tutelage that Alysanne was going to get. Maegor intended for Pentos to be far more flexible, and with a quite small number of people who could be trusted in the world. It was imperative that every Targaryen possible knew what they were doing.
"It is much wider than the Red Keep," Alysanne noted as Terrax descended more rapidly toward the courtyard. Meanwhile, Maegor turned to his left and signaled for Visenya and Baelon to land.
Before Shiera could respond, she watched Alysanne's head move to follow the three dragons peeling off further away, leading their dragons toward a clearing just outside of the city. A large piece of land was appropriated from a previous wealthy landowner who had foolishly decided to side against their family.
Now it was being used to hold the excess dragons of House Targaryen in Pentos until the Dragonpit here was done. Financial difficulties slowed construction, and so the colossal structure was not yet complete. Once it was done, it would dominate the skyline. But as of now, it was little more than a half-constructed dome jutting awkwardly up from one of the higher points in the city.
"They will rejoin us at the palace once they land," Shiera said. Alysanne knew of this procedure, of course. A similar policy had been implemented in King's Landing prior to the completion of the Dragonpit, and Alysanne had received an education about the history of King's Landing. But Shiera figured a little bit of encouragement could not hurt.
Shiera braced herself against Maegor, holding Alysanne more tightly as Terrax reared back for a landing. The wind whipped against Shiera's veil as Terrax's talons struck the landing terrace, sending up a spray of dust and pebbles. The massive dragon gave a final rumbling snarl before folding his wings, the heat radiating from his scales like a forge.
Nearby, Silverwing was roused from her slumber by the commotion. Her long, silver neck rising out of one of the large hedges in the courtyard to briefly glare daggers at Terrax before wisely shrinking back.
Shiera did not pretend to understand dragons. They were not her area of expertise, and they never would be, as she was not a Targaryen. But as far as she could tell, they were far more than simple beasts.
Immeasurably attached to their riders, temperamental, haughty, and proud. Those were the traits that Shiera noticed most readily among the dragons belonging to her family. But they were clearly more than that.
Despite their boiling temper and haughty pride, they were still wise enough to choose their battles. Terrax was the bravest creature that Shiera had ever witnessed, and even he would not dare act up in front of Balerion.
Maegor was the first to dismount Terrax, unstrapping himself from the saddle with a practised ease as he practically flew down the ropes clinging to Terrax's side. He then helped Alysanne down, making sure she had her footing on solid ground before Shiera was helped off, too.
Their arrival brought what must have been a hundred servants to the forefront as they seemingly poured from every entranceway, eager to meet their every desire. Shiera observed Alysanne closely, it was the girl's first visit to Pentos, and she would have to get used to this.
The size of their household staff seemingly only grew every year. When it was just Shiera and Maegor in that seaside villa, they counted maybe a dozen servants under their employ. Now that number had risen to the hundreds. With every child, more maids were hired, with every property, more servants, and with every passing year, more guards were added to their retinue.
"It was said already, Alysanne. But welcome to Pentos," Maegor reiterated, moving forward to hand some of his riding gear off to an attendant. His gloves, straps, and extra padding for the cold were shed and placed into the waiting hands of a Dragonkeeper.
The dragonkeepers in the palace were ostensibly meant to care for the dragons that resided in the courtyard. And while they did do that, the job of caring for them was mostly left up to the dragons themselves.
On cue, Terrax let out an annoyed huff before curling himself into a tight circle and finding a nice patch of sunny dirt to rest in. Silverwing, meanwhile, stirred further, not from Terrax but from the arrival of a different individual.
"You're here!" the excited voice said, rushing through the crowd as it parted for him. Before Alysanne could thank Maegor for the welcome, she was quickly grabbed in a ferocious hug as Viserys made his presence known.
Alysanne's little gasp of surprise was swallowed by Viserys's laughter as he all but swept her off her feet.
Viserys!" she squealed, half laughing, half crying. "You're crushing me!"
He loosened his grip, but only slightly, holding her at arm's length as he looked her over, his violet eyes glimmering with unmistakable affection. "By the gods, look at you," he said, grinning broadly. "You've grown half a foot since I last saw you. What have they been feeding you on Dragonstone?"
Alysanne narrowed her eyes at the words, an inquisitive look forming. "It has only been a few moons, not that much time, Brother," she said accusatorially, narrowing her eyes.
"Bah! Only? A few moons is far too much," Viserys dismissed with a smile, rustling Alysanne's hair.
Before the quiet girl could make her displeasure known, Viserys turned to Maegor. "Uncle, all is well," he said with a light bow.
"I imagined so," Maegor said with a smile, patting Viserys on the shoulder. "It was only for a day, but I appreciate you staying behind to be the dragon in Pentos, Viserys."
"Think nothing of it, Uncle. To be honest, I would rather not go back there for a while," he said with a small chuckle.
A small smile graced Shiera's lips as she thanked whatever higher being was out there for Viserys's moving to Essos. The catastrophe in Westeros that caused it was far from ideal. But there was at least a silver lining in the crisis.
In one fell swoop, not only had her family acquired the boy that had all but grown up in the halls permanently, but Visenya had hardly been in a better mood.
The children were fond of teasing Visenya for her obvious attraction to Viserys. But it warmed Shiera's heart knowing that her daughter would not be sent off to Westeros.
The original plan for Alysanne was meant to be a swap. The understanding was that she was always going to give Harrenhal to Visenya one day, giving both her and Viserys a sizable and wealthy holding in Westeros. But Shiera had always delayed actually making the final decision.
Call it selfishness, but she really did not want her daughter moving to Westeros if she could help it. Had Visenya really wished to go, she would have let her, mostly because she could not hope to stop her. But she knew full well what Westeros, and especially Harrenhall, could be.
Shiera was briefly saddened by the thought. The decrepit castle was already haunted by death from King Aegon's actions two generations prior. But then Shiera had lost her family within the castle once already, and she loathed the idea of tempting fate again.
Luckily for her heart, not only did Visenya have zero interest in Westeros at all, but she was to be far more interested in the bustling cities and beautiful palaces of Essos. But then Prince Aegon had decided to all but destroy his family over a ruined city, leading to Viserys finally calling Westeros quits and moving to Essos.
Perhaps one day he might go back, but as of that moment. It did not appear that way.
"Is it because of what Father said?" Alysanne asked, fussing with her hair with her right hand as she stared widely up at her elder brother.
Viserys scratched his cheek a little nervously. "Yeah… I want to let things cool off at least a little before I see Father or Mother again," Viserys admitted rather diplomatically. Alysanne knew the basics of what had occurred, as she was wise beyond her years. But she was not quite clued into every detail.
'Best to leave it for later,' Shiera thought, lightly pushing Alysanne forward a bit and toward the actual palace.
Taking the cue, Viserys turned to Maegor to continue his own conversation. "With Terrax resting here, would you like me to return Silverwing to the clearing?"
"I think yes, I will have Baelon bring Caraxes over later."
Shiera quickly tuned out the discussion of dragon deployments and policy to focus on Alysanne. Shiera had been waiting for years to finally get undivided access to Alysanne. She and Visenya had worked with what they could get on Dragonstone for the half of the year that they got access to her. But now it was time for the real work to begin.
Alysanne quickly fell into lockstep with her, dutifully following along and idly observing everything around them. Shiera quickly called over a maid, one of the higher-ranking and more trusted ones.
"Where might my youngest child be?" Shiera asked quietly, though plenty loud enough for Alysanne to hear her.
The girl's interest was clearly caught as the maid answered, "In the study, Your Grace."
"Is that where we are going?" Alysanne asked, the first bit of excitement appearing on her face since they departed from Dragonstone.
"Yes, it is, it is time to start your training properly," Shiera said with an excited smile.
The corridors of the Pentoshi palace glimmered with light from the many windows. Servants bowed as they passed, and Alysanne, though quiet, kept her eyes darting over everything, the carved arches, the mosaics depicting dragons and stars, the foreign silks draped along the hallways.
She walked close beside Shiera, her small hands clasped before her, posture perfectly proper, but she was clearly excited. Excited to see her cousin Daenys once more.
The two youngest girls of the family had not quite become as close as Shiera was hoping for. Mostly due to the time spent apart, more than anything. But with any luck, that would be changing over the coming years as Alysanne grew more acclimated to Pentos.
"This way, sweetling," Shiera murmured, gesturing toward a side hall lined with high windows. The scent of paper and ink quickly filled the air, signs they were nearing the study.
"Is the study where everyone is taught?" Alysanne asked, Shiera quickly catching the hidden meaning.
Alysanne was both doubtful of herself and eager to know if she would get to share lessons with her other cousins, too. Alysanne was substantially better at hiding her affections than Visenya was. But she was still quite easy to read if you knew where to look.
Lingering stares toward Daeron, quickly looking away in embarrassment, and being especially quiet around him. It was obvious to anyone who cared to look.
"Yes, although it will be mostly you and Daenys for the next few years. Your cousins and brother are almost all grown up," Shiera said with a small, sad sigh.
She had no idea just where the time had gone. She could still recall the day when she first held Daeron in her arms. Her perfect little boy. Now he was a grown man, riding the second-largest dragon alive and being prepared to one day lead the kingdom that his father had founded.
Even her younger children, Baelon and Visenya, were growing up far too fast. Visenya was already talking about her marriage, and Baelon could hardly peel himself off of his brother and cousin to spend time with her any longer.
Perhaps that was why Shiera was so excited to get her hands on Alysanne properly. Daenys was a treat still, her little magic-obsessed daughter was a joy to be around. But having another young princess around to teach and spend time with? It was a dream come true.
"And Daenys is there right now?" Alysanne asked, her eyes still darting around, noting every detail.
"Yes, most likely studying magic if I had to guess," Shiera said with a happy sigh. Visenya was overjoyed to have one of her children actually be interested in using their talent for magic. Daeron was quite capable, as was Visenya, but neither was all that interested in putting in the time. Baelon might have been a different case, but he was just not all that strong in magic.
Daenys was unlike all of them. She took to magic like a fish to water, and she had the natural talent to back up her desire for learning. Shiera made sure to moderate her daughter, to make sure that she did not end up ruining her eyes like Shiera had done to herself, but she was overjoyed to have Daenys be as interested as she was in magic.
Alysanne seemed to deflate a bit at the mention of magic. Something that Shiera quickly caught on to. For whatever reason, Aenys's family was not all that magically inclined. Aenys, Aegon, and Viserys never had much interest. Alyssa and Jaehaerys actively refused her offers of lessons. This just left Rhaena and Alysanne.
Rhaena had the interest and enough talent to make it work. But it was still less when compared to Daeron and Daenys. Alysanne was right around the same as her elder sister. Plenty capable, but still less than her cousins.
A mixture of pride and worry bubbled in Shiera's chest as she observed the deflated princess. Alysanne had always taken Visenya's scolding quite heavily, and Shiera imagined that the pressure on the girl was quite severe. Luckily, Shiera had all the time in the world to work on that now.
Before long, the tall doors of the private study appeared before them, the steadfast guards outside dutifully opening the doors and allowing them entry. As they stepped through the doors, Alysanne slowed as they approached, her fingers brushing nervously over the embroidered hem of her sleeve.
Inside, it did not take long to find her youngest daughter. The scent of ink and the gentle scratching of writing led them right to her like a blood trail. In a secluded corner of the study, behind rows of scrolls and stacks of books teetering precariously on the edge of a wide oak table, was a young girl.
"Daenys, sweetling," Shiera said softly as she stepped closer, peering over one of the large stacks of books, her tone more fond than admonishing. "You have a guest."
Daenys looked up immediately, her violet eyes wide and curious before they softened into a small, hesitant smile.
"Alysanne!" Daenys said, closing her book carefully and setting it gently on the table. "You're early."
"Did I have a designated arrival time?" Alyssane laughed quietly, accepting the quick hug from her cousin.
"No, but last I checked, you were all still on Dragonstone," Daenys said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"And how did you do that?" Shiera asked, her words sending a jolt up her youngest daughter's back.
"Uhm…" Daenys did not answer, as she did not need to.
She had used one of the glass candles to check on them. It was a difficult procedure, and one that had to be handled carefully. But Shiera was more curious as to how she managed to get her hands on it. Shiera was confident that it was locked up in her chambers.
"Regardless, we are not early. You simply must have lost track of time," Shiera dismissed, deciding that she would punish her daughter later. For now, she elected to let her and Alysanne enjoy their first day of her stay in Pentos.
"Oh, have I?" Daenys asked, turning around to look out a nearby window, only to find that the sun had already passed its peak and was now dipping downwards.
Daenys barely managed to stifle her gut reaction of "urk!" before Shiera dismissed her concerns. "This is my fault for leaving you here. Just enjoy today and do not do it again, alright?"
"Yes, Mother!" Daenys said with a wide smile. It was not often her youngest was so chipper. But she supposed the arrival of Alysanne boosted her spirits.
Shiera had been reluctant to leave Daenys here. But with Viserys here to supervise her and with the castle full of guards. She figured it was worth any potential trade-off. If they brought Daenys to Dragonstone, she would most certainly not want to leave.
Her family all loved Dragonstone, it was their primary home for some and secondary for others. But Daenys must have loved it most of all. She always begged to stay there as long as she could when she was younger, and that habit had only grown more as she aged.
Taking a small step forward, Alysanne cut through the silence with an uncharacteristic act of confidence. "Daenys… what are you reading?"
Daenys blinked, as though surprised Alysanne was the one to ask. She brushed a strand of silver hair from her face and smiled, just a little. "Just some of Grandmother's old notes. I was comparing them with some of the texts the silly Magisters gifted me for my nameday," she said, tapping the open book. "Grandmother's notes are much better."
"Oh…" Alysanne said, looking down at her feet briefly before mustering her courage once more. "Can I read those notes too?" she asked boldly, approaching the table more.
"Of course, Grandmother wrote down a lot of stuff for us. Mother won't let me see the good stuff yet. But I know they must be amazing," Daenys said with an excited sigh, as if looking forward to one amazing future event.
'By good stuff, she must mean the secrets of the Faceless Men…' Shiera thought as the two girls continued their idle conversation. Alysanne inquired a bit about Visenya's notes as Daenys happily filled her in as best she could.
Shiera let the girls talk for a moment as a sinking feeling developed in her chest. The secrets of the Faceless Men were an unexpected boon from the war with that accursed order of cowards. Visenya had effectively emptied the mind of a most foolish devil of all of his secrets. She then transcribed all the stolen knowledge into a handful of small journals, which were safely stored in her and Maegor's care.
The fact that Daenys knew they existed was… troublesome. She and Maegor were still deciding what to do with them. The abilities were powerful, and Shiera and Maegor had both dabbled in the practice, receiving lessons directly from Visenya. But actually using the magic was a different story.
It was a dangerous precedent to set. Especially with the prospect of a lot more Targaryens being born soon. The more people knew about this, the more likely it was to leak, which meant that they might have to deal with more Faceless Men again…
Shaking her head lightly to clear her thoughts, she refocused on her two charges. She had intended to find Daenys to teach her as well, but she decided there and then to leave most of the learning for the coming days. She would use this day to better introduce Alysanne to Pentos.
She had been educated about the Kingdom that Maegor had built. Its founding documents, the aspects of its religions, andthe governmental structure. All of it had been covered by the girl's Essosi tutors, but Shiera figured she should gauge just how much of that information stuck.
Before either could move, Shiera's voice gently interrupted their excited chatter. "You two will have plenty of time to discuss more over supper," she said with amusement, watching them both over the rim of her spectacles. "We mustn't let the rest of our daylight pass us by."
Daenys's mouth twisted into a pout, and Alysanne covered a smile behind her hand.
"Now now, Daenys. There is no need to pout. What we do today will mean that we can move much faster in the future," Shiera said, clearing one of the benches and taking a seat. Alysanne quickly followed her example as Daenys returned to her desk.
"Alysanne, from today on. You will spend your mornings with the family breaking your fast, then with the tutors, then you will spend the day shadowing me and learning from watching. Then you will spend the evening learning magic with your elder brother and cousins, do you understand?" Shiera asked, laying out Alysanne's new schedule.
The girl hesitantly nodded before mustering her courage and nodding more strongly. Shiera would, of course, be open to changing the schedule should the need arise, but that is what she was planning as of that moment.
"Now then, Alysanne, what do you know of what has been happening here since the end of the war with the Triarchy?" Shiera opened the floor, letting Alysanne tell her all that she knew.
"Hmm," Alysanne mumbled first, clearly trying to recall any information she had heard recently.
"Not much…" Alysanne said, sounding defeated. "I know that Uncle Maegor secured the surrender of Lys. But besides that, I do not really know."
Shiera noted her lack of excuse. But moved to inform the girl.
"That is nothing to be ashamed of, Alysanne. You have lived in Westeros up until now, that is why we are discussing this here," Shiera quickly said.
"With the surrender of the Triarchy, Maegor has split up the army within the conquered cities and downs, ensuring that the terms of the treaty are upheld and the new policies are being properly enacted," Shiera began.
"Proper counts are being made of each city and town within the conquered regions, and prospectors have been sent out into the disputed lands to find destroyed towns, harrowed hamlets, and good locations for new colonies. The war is not over, but that does not mean that the work is done too," Shiera explained, Alysanne nodding along dutifully.
"Who is making the counts?" Alysanne asked, grabbing the hem of her skirt once more.
"Those would be the new offices established. You know how those work, yes?" Shiera asked, hoping to probe Alysanne's mind a little more.
"Yes," she answered with a nod. "The offices answer to the king. There are different ones for different purposes. As the army, judges, and conclave each have different paths through the cabinet. But they all work together to make sure that Uncle Maegor's laws are enacted."
"Very good, Alysanne," Shiera said, earning a small smile from the girl.
"The different regions of the Kingdom of Pentos are run slightly differently. Pentos is run directly by the offices, while other regions are allowed a greater degree of autonomy, either reporting to their own local governors or conclaves," Shiera continued, reciting the structure that she had helped Maegor implement.
She was not instrumental in its creation. But her opinions were heard. Which was all that she could ask for in truth. She was not a conqueror, just Maegor's wife. Regardless, the structure of Pentos was quite different from Westeros, and she wanted to make sure that Alysanne understood that.
"As of now, the regions of Tyrosh, Myr, The Heel, and Lys are not yet properly organized. So they are being run through the army, and new branches of the offices were created for the purpose of integrating them. In time, the different regions will act more like Braavos and Lorath. But as of now, they are occupied," Shiera explained as Alysanne nodded along, her attention held fiercely.
"Mother," Daenys interjected, catching both hers and Alysanne's attention. "Father said before that we are struggling with gold because of the war. Are we still?" she asked, turning her attention away from the book for a moment.
"Not as bad, sweetling. Although the coffers are still a little light. Your Uncle Aenys has begun making some small payments on the loans, and with the war being over, most of the soldiers have been dispersed, making feeding them less of a hassle," Shiera said, though she had already lost Daenys's interest.
"Just a few more moons…" Daenys grumbled, catching Shiera's attention.
'She is looking forward to it?' Shiera thought, slightly confused. Most of her children loathed being effectively cut off from her and Maegor's personal purse. Most of the personal wants of her other children were now dependent on the mostly independent management of their own properties.
Daeron had been the first, getting a cattle ranch out in the Flatlands. Then Baelon got some lands out in the Velvet Hills where hers and Maegor's second home was. There he was learning to manage a ranch as well, although his lands grew more sheep than cattle.
Visenya hated learning to manage her territories. She had gotten a farming estate in the Flatlands as her first one, and she had a steep learning curve. Having to curb her spending habits nearly did her in. Luckily, her daughter was a reluctant learner, but she was still capable.
Now her youngest appeared to be just waiting for her chance. Daenys had always been the most studious among her children, but that certainly came as a surprise to Shiera.
"A few more moons… will I get property too?" Alysanne asked, looking up at Shiera. '
"I…" Shiera started, uncertain. Maegor had yet to award Viserys any property, though he was likely going to be given their old seaside villa that had been recently reconstructed. But that was hardly a place to earn an income.
"That will be a decision that Maegor must make. But either way, you will need to learn how to manage your possessions, both for your own sake and to aid your future husband as well," Shiera said, noticing how Alysanne seemed to clam up a bit at the mention.
"Ugh, you mean I am going to have to manage Baelon's stuff too?" Daenys whined, placing her head between the two leather covers of the book she was holding as she groaned loudly.
Shiera let out a light chuckle as she leaned back in her chair. "You will have to help him, yes. Don't do things for him. But that is what family is for," Shiera said, earning a quiet groan from her daughter.
"Now then, as I was saying," Shiera said, turning back toward her ward, only to be stopped in her tracks. Alysanne was looking down at her feet, clearly lost in her own thoughts.
After taking a quick look outside at the sun gradually tipping toward the horizon, Shiera abruptly stood up and made a decision. "How about we go for a walk around the palace? We will have plenty of time to learn more in the coming days," Shiera offered to her two charges, meeting less than ideal responses.
"Do I have to?" Daenys grumbled first, turning her attention briefly from her notes to acknowledge her.
"I… I think I should study more," Alysanne said, her voice quieter than usual.
Shiera huffed quietly, closing her eyes as she let out a deep sigh. 'What to do?' she thought idly. She had heaped a little too much onto Alysanne too quickly. She had already had a trying day. It would be best to let her get more acclimated before getting into the thick of things.
"See! I told you they were in the study!" a sudden voice triumphally declared, only to be admonished a moment later.
"Then you should be quieter about it. We are in a study after all," the sharp voice responded like the crack of a whip.
Baelon only giggled to himself as he and Visenya stepped into the study, Daeron and Viserys being oddly absent. Noticing her chance, Shiera leapt at it.
"Oh, wonderful, I was hoping to find one of you to give Alysanne a tour of the castle. Daenys, go with your siblings. I will even permit you to visit the dragons before supper," Shiera said, and that got Daenys moving.
"Really!?" she said, jumping up.
"But…" Alysanne started, only to be silenced by Visenya.
"We were just at the dragons…" she said, almost annoyed at having to go back.
"Are you complaining about getting to see Vermithor? Who are you and what did you do to my sister?" Baelon japed.
"Hey! Watch it, dragonbreath!" Visenya hissed, playfully attacking her big brother.
"Now, now you two, save the banter for the trip over. Run along now," Shiera dismissed, shooing them all away. Daenys was quick to follow her two elder siblings. But Alysanne lingered for a moment.
She looked uncertain, glancing over toward Daenys's gathered collection before looking at her three cousins walking farther and farther away.
"Alysanne. Do not worry, I will make sure that you are as ready as can be. Run along now and have some fun. You will be working very hard very soon," Shiera said, and that seemed to get Alysanne moving as she reluctantly turned toward the door and chased after her cousins.
Shiera watched them depart with a small smile. Then, she walked idly over toward Daenys's work station, cleaning up after her studious daughter. Alysanne needed a lot of work before she was ready, but Shiera was committed to teaching her.
She could see the very same thing that Visenya saw in her. An intelligence she hides behind her quiet demeanor, a deep care for others, and a quiet determination to see things through, even if she fears or dreads it.
Looking down at the familiar handwriting. Shiera remembered her talks with Visenya all those years ago. She swore that she would see Alysanne prepared to be the best queen she could be. As the future of her family depended on the girl.
'I promise she will be great, Visenya,' Shiera thought, closing the book of notes with a quiet thump.
A