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King Viserys sat at the table before his model of old Valyria, building one of the many manses of the old houses of the freehold. This one in particular supposedly belonged to the infamous family of house Balaerys. One of the most powerful families of old Valyria. If rumors were to be believed, they were able to not only control multiple Dragons but they were also one of the few lines that produced blood mages. Powerful sorcerers, with the ability to use blood magic, an ability that was few in every other lineage. The last known blood mage of house Targaryen was Denys Targaryen, who mainly used her powers to see, though some whispered that Queen Visenya also was a powerful blood mage, going as far as saying that she conceived Maegor through nefarious means, which led to his insanity and cruelty.

Viserys himself carried little of the glory associated with his ancestors. His skin lacked the ethereal glow of his predecessors or even his brother. The violet of his eyes was almost washed out and his hair lacked the almost metallic look of the rest of his family. Despite his age of barely 32, his belly was quite big. He liked to indulge in feast and long big dinners with lots of wine. Even before he was King he had given up on exercise, mostly because he was frustrated that he would never be as good as his brother.
His brother Daemon, who was knighted at just sixteen and received Dark Sister from King Jaehaerys. His brother who looked everything like the Valyrian he was. His brother who was violent and impatient and who was currently banished in the Vale with his hated wife Rhae Rhoyce, who he called his bronze bitch. But nonetheless Daemon was his heir. Viserys shuddered even thinking about Daemon on the throne after him. He could not let that happen.

His wife was currently pregnant and he had his dream again, of a young boy with his fathers eyes and the silver hair of the old King sitting on the Iron Throne, while dragons dance and rore in the background and swords clash in the distance. He was sure it was a sign. Finally he would have his son, a son that would go on to be a great strategist, who would keep away any bad influence from Westeros.

Up to this point Aemma and him were only able to produce one healthy child. His daughter and darling Rhaenyra. She already was the most spoiled child in the whole kingdom. Daemon always bringing her the most expensive gifts and him giving his best to make up for his initial disappointment after her birth. When he was told that the child was a girl he had been sad that it was not his promised heir, but the moment the child that was placed in his arms and opened her eyes, he saw the most vibrant violet eyes stare into his soul and he could feel nothing but love for this little human. She was now five sunturns old and a little terror. Running around the keep commanding everyone like she was Queen. And even worse, most indulged her. Her uncle very adequately named her the Realm`s Delight. No one could say no to the big eyes and the brilliant smile. Well almost no one.

Only Rhaenys could ever turn her down. His cousin had moved back into the keep after her husband died shortly after the Council of 101. It had been almost three years, but she was still wearing morning black. He had declared that after Lord Corlys's death, his brother Vaemond would look after the Velaryon wealth until Laenor was old enough. He did not want his cousin to be burdened after the death of her husband and Otto advised him that this would lighten her load. Viserys still trembled remembering her face when he announced his decision to the court and he was sure that had they been in private he would not have survived. But it was only for her own good. He offered her multiple times to find her a new husband, even going as far as proposing a marriage to his hand Otto Hightower, an honourable man, but she threatened him with Meleys if he forced her to get married again. After Vaemond took over Hightide, she moved with her children back into the Red Keep. Laena and Laenor were only two years older than Rhaenyra and together they terrorised the Keep.

A knock on his door interrupted his musing. Ser Harrold's voice announced the master with a letter for him. He asked him to enter, putting aside the piece of his model he had been working on.

Runciter walked through the opened door and bowed before giving him a letter.
He took it from his hands and gestured for the master to leave. After a mumbled “Good evening, your grace”, Runciter left the room.

The scroll in his hand was carrying a seal, he did not recognize. It showed a scepter circled by a dragon, whose wings were spread, making it look as if the scepter was flying. All of it was pressed into red wax.
If he remembered correctly from one of the many scrolls he had read, this was the sigil of house Belarys. The dragon for their dragonriders and the scepter for their blood mages. Was that the explanation for the rumors around Westeros?
Over the last weeks there were rumors of dragon riding conquerors coming from the east and taking big parts of Essos. They spoke from godlike figures controlling more than one dragon, attacking cities and conquering nations without losing a single life on their side. For a short time he had thought that Daemon finally snapped and started a campaign but Daemon was still in the Vale and there had to be multiple Dragons. So he theorised with his council that maybe Searas line was able to claim Dragons, but no one was able to confirm that. So they had decided that they would wait and contact this new power when they showed themselves. Up until now they did not think that they would attack Westeros, considering that the Targaryens also had Dragons.
So what is in this letter? Viserys took a breath and broke the seal with trembling hands. He stopped for a second when he saw the runic script of High Valyrien, before he read the text written on the page.

To his Grace, King Viserys,
we, the empire of Yi Ti, are planning on sending a diplomatic envoy in the form of one of the members of the house of Belarys to Westeros to begin diplomatic relations with the seven Kingdoms and discuss the future relationship between our two countries. We hope to discuss trade as well as potential closer relations with your family as a more permanent alliance. Pending your agreement, our envoy would arrive in four moons time to discuss the specifics and open communications between us.
Empress Gaemyra, the Glorious, empress of Yi Ti and the free cities, khaleesi of the Dothraki, Ruler of the Empire of Morning, Lady of Old Valyria, matriarch of house Balaerys

When he finished the letter, he had to read it twice before the words had sunk into his consciousness. Another family from Valyria survived and they did not know about it. A family who ruled an empire that sounded like it was bigger than anything he had ever heard, he was not even sure if their cards were big enough to show the scale of that empire. This family was not just some family but the most powerful family of Old Valyria. And they wanted to strike up relations with them and even insinuated a potential marriage between their families. After a few moments of just staring at the paper in his hand, he scrambled to his desk to form a response, to accept their envoy. He could already see the big wedding, maybe even between his daughter and the Empress`s heir. His little daughter could be an Empress consort. Shortly after the start of this thought reached him. An Empress. This empire was ruled by a woman. That would cause a stir under the Lords of this country. The Grand Council was not that long ago, only four years. They had just rejected a woman on the throne and now this. But Viserys just shrugged it off. It was a different land with different laws and customs, the Lords would be fine. There was no reason for them to feel threatened.
He drafted his acceptance and ordered the guards to give it to the master to send it of, before asking for Aemma and Rhaenys to come to his rooms and for Daemon to be summoned back to the capital. No matter what Daemon did, they needed to present a united front.

Chapter Text

The empty space next to her on the bed felt almost ice cold. After three years she was still not used to the silence in the evening. Still not used to no longer being called the Lady of Driftmark. She had held that title for twelve sunturns. Twelve sunturns during which she spent most of her time alone on her husband's island while he went sailing around the world, but still it never felt that empty. It had been three years since he never returned from one of his voyages. Since he left her with the children to go on one of his adventures.

Her Laena and Laenor, her twins. It took more than twenty hours to get them into this world. She could still remember the relief and happiness she felt, when they were placed into her arms the first time. Can remember it everytime she looks at them. Playing in the garden with their cousin Rhaenyra or when the three of them were watching the knights in the yard, all of them insisting that they would be the best. They were her little lights, her happiness. But her twins were too young to remember their father and with every day they were forgetting more and more of him. In the beginning they were devastated, but they were only four when he did not return and for them the world moved forward.

After Lord Corlys`s death, Rhaenys threw herself into Driftmark for her son. Until her husband's brother thought it was a good idea to take Driftmark`s business to the king. Her foolish cousin let himself be convinced that she was too weak in her grief to properly look after her son's house until he was of age. It did not occur to him that she was the one responsible for most of Driftmark's wealth. It was she who had tripled the money Corlys brought from his trade. No, instead of doing what she had been doing for ten sun turns, Viserys gave the control over the Velaryon wealth to Vaemond, who always was lacking in managing anything. She refused to live under the ambitious second son, so she moved back to the Red Keep with her children. Viserys thought that it was a sign of forgiveness, but really she only did it because her only other choice was Stormsend, and while she loved her uncle, the memories of her mother were too painful, so the Red Keep was the only choice.

In the three years here she found at least a semblance of peace. Her children were fast friends with the little Princess Rhaenyra. The girl really was a delight, with a smile that can light up a room, but like her children she was a spoiled little thing. She was the only one ever refusing the children anything. Even her cousin Aemma just could not say no when her only child asked her for something.

Aemmas heart was too big for this world. Rhaenys felt nothing but sorrow for her little cousin. Married at only eleven and forced to carry children at barely thirteen namedays. She was currently pregnant again. Viserys did not even wait three moons after her last Stillbirth before getting her pregnant again. The kind Queen really did not deserve her fate. Rhaenys tried to help her with as much work as she could. She had taken over most of the Queen's duties. Organising feasts, charities, managing the castle staff and watching over the children's education. She also looked after the royal households. The Kings, the Queens, Princess Rhaenyras and her own. Mainly she made sure that Otto Hightower could not meddle too much with them and isolate the royal family more than they already were.

That man was a leech in her eyes. Not a day went by without Otto trying to discredit her or another member of the royal family to Viserys. About a year ago he convinced Viserys that it would be a good idea to remarry her to someone for an alliance. And Viserys in his infinite wisdom could find no better candidate for his favourite cousin than his best friend and hand, Otto himself. When he told her of his glorious idea, his eyes were wide with excitement and he had a big smile on his face. He was telling her about this fabulous arrangement as if it was a gift to her. Viserys really thought she would be happy to move on from her last husband when she was still wearing morning black, despite her morning ending over a year ago. But he did not accept her refusal before she threatened him with Meleys. Then he shut up and since then he never tried it again. He did make comments about one Lord or another but he did not try to force her again.

A knock on the door interrupted her musing. The door opened and a maid entered on silent feet. She sat up on her bed and looked at her expectantly. For a maid to simply enter her rooms without express permission she was either sent by the king or queen.
The maid flinched when she saw Rhaenyses less than thrilled expression and curtsied quickly.

” The King has asked you to attend to him in his chambers.” She almost forced the words out. Rhaenys knew she could have that effect on people. Her anger was the stuff of legends among the staff. When she first entered the Keep, some of the staff thought it was appropriate to forget showing her the proper reverence. Needless to say, they did not like her anger.

”Tell the King I will be coming and call my maids to dress me in something more appropriate.” She gave a small wave with her hand to indicate for the maid to get out, which she did as quickly as she could. What is it Viserys wanted from her at this hour? There was another knock on the door and she asked for them to come in. Her maids dressed her in one of her more simple black daydresses and she put on some better shoes before leaving her rooms to go to the King.

On her way towards the Kings chambers she met the Queen who looked as confused as her.
”Your Grace. Aemma do you have any idea why Viserys asked us to his chambers?” Rhaenys gave a small curtsy, just deep enough to be considered appropriate.

“No, I have no idea.” The confusion was visible in the slight frown on Aemma’s forehead and her visibly tensed expression.

Together they continued walking along the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast. Before the Kings door stood Ser Redwyne. When he saw them approach he gave both of them a small bow, before announcing them to the King. Viserys gave his permission for them to enter and Ser Redwyne opened the door.

Inside the first thing eyes were drawn to, was the model of Old Valyria on the biggest table in the room. It stood completely in white before three big windows. During the day, the light shining through these windows gave the model an almost unnatural appearance. Before the model were a couple of chairs. But Viserys was not sitting on any of them. Instead he was pacing around the room. When Aemma and Rhaenys entered the room, he stopped in his tracks and looked at them with an almost childish happiness in his face.

“Viserys, why did you ask us here at this hour?” Even the usually kind Aemma sounded confused and a little irritated in the face of a way to happy Viserys. If this was not an emergency why were they even here?

”Today I received a letter from the Empress of Yi Ti, who wanted to open diplomatic relations with us.”

”Who ?” Aemma asked the question that had been on Rhaenys's tongue. She had heard of Yi Ti, but why would this empire want something from them. They were to far apart from each other to be of any use, unless …
”Are they the reason for the rumours of the conquest of Essos?” Rhaenys asked the still smiling Viserys. The rumours of a conquering power with dragons taking over the free cities had been all over Westeros for weeks now.

“Yes they are and they want to send an envoy to us in four moons. I have already written them my acceptance. The Empress wrote that her name was Geamyra Balaerys.”
”Balaerys? Of the house Balaerys? They survived the doom?” It was the first thing Rhaenys said. It was shocking thinking of another family who survived. How could they not have known? There was not one rumour about another dragon riding family until the rumours of the conquest started. That should be impossible. There were people that traveled to Yi Ti and not one of them ever returned with any mention of any dragons or even Valyrien rulers.

”Apperently. I am sure we will learn more when the envoy arrives. The letter also had hints of a potential marriage alliance. This is why I asked you here. We need to present a united front. I was hoping that one of the children might marry a child in line for the throne.”

Rhaenys felt dread creep up her spine. She did not want to give up her children to a foreign power. She looked over at Aemma and saw panic in her eyes. She was clutching her not even showing stomach as if someone would rip the child out of her body to give it to Yi Ti.

”We have to prepare feasts and rooms and celebrations and a tourney for our guests. I hope they answer quickly. We have to know how many they are and who exactly will be coming.”
Viserys just kept rambling, unaware of the inner turmoil in the two women.

“I trust you will handle most of the organisation, Rhaenys. I don’t want Aemma to overexert herself.”

Rhaenys snapped out of her thoughts and mumbled an agreement.

”Great. I will tell the Small Council tomorrow and i want you both to be there.”

They agreed and then left the room. The walk back to her chambers was spent in silence. The two women thinking about their children. They separated without a word. It was a very sleepless night for Rhaenys.

Chapter Text

The summons for an emergency small council meeting was sent out the next morning. When it arrived at the tower of the hand, Otto Hightower was breaking his fast with his daughter and son. They were sitting around a table in the dining room when a servant entered and informed him that the king called a meeting in two candle marks. This was what confused Otto Hightower. Viserys had been on the throne for two years, but it had happened only a couple of times that he called a small council meeting instead of Otto. The few times that he did it was on Otto's behalf. Before King Jaehaerys was incapable of ruling it was unheard of for anyone but the King or Heir to call a meeting. But Otto changed that when the old king was no longer capable of ruling alone. He was the one that called every meeting now. It started with just one time but over the years people got used to treating his words like the kings. No one questioned him anymore when he ordered them to do something. Everyone obeyed except the Targaryens.

Over the last years he slowly started to influence Viserys to turn away from his brother, his strongest supporter. Daemon was too strong to be left alone and with the support of the King he would be unstoppable. The brothers once were close but now Daemon was banished to the Vale and Viserys’s trust in Daemon was diminished.

And Aemma. The Queen Consort. in theory the second highest position in the realm. He had started to work on reducing her influence the moment they got married. It was Otto that convinced Viserys to bed Aemma too early, leading to her multiple failed pregnancies and stillbirths although the masters helped there too. Aemma was a nice and docile woman, but she was simply in the way. He wanted his blood on the throne and for that she had to go. Without giving birth to a surviving son first. His daughter was almost ready to take her place in his plans.

Alicent was a sweet girl. Pious and influencable. She was everything a woman should be. When he came to court he installed her in the Princess’s household trying to influence her away from the heretic way of her family more towards the path of the seven. He wanted to marry Rhaenyra to a Hightower or a Lannister. To a family loyal to the seven that would guide her away from the unnatural inclinations that plagued her bloodline. But Alicent did not succeed. Although Rhaenyra had only five name days, she stubbornly refused to listen to Alicent's preaching. So much so that the princess went to her mother and her aunt Rhaenys and told them that Alicent was disrespectful. It was only because of his position that he could keep Alicent in Rhaenyra’s household. But after that the older princess made sure to fill it with ladies that were more to the girls liking. Manly Ladies from the North and the Vale made up her household now. None of them followed the Seven and Alicent went from being Rhaenyra’s only influence to being a lowly Lady at her side with no real influence. He still regretted not teaching his daughter how to get close to the young girl, but he had been busy with the newly crowned King and with the widowed Rhaenys. But his daughter would have her uses later when she gave birth to the perfect heir. At thirteen name days, Alicent stood on the threshold of womanhood. In time, she could wear the crown with the dignity Queen Aemma lacked.

Rhaenys had been a problem though in the last years since she moved into the Keep. He thought that by supporting Vaemond and making sure she does not act as regent in place of her son she would be stripped of most of her drive. He had expected a grieving widow to retreat into quiet despair, not rise with such resolve. She was not supposed to fight back. But instead of sitting back and letting her grief consume her, she stabilised her power by taking over the Queen’s duties and handling most of the charities. She also managed to become an important adviser to Viserys, something that should never happen. So he tried a different method. He tried to get Viserys to marry her off to one of his allies but somehow she convinced Viserys not to do it. How, he had no idea except that Viserys made it very clear that he did not want to speak of it again.

But with the summons now, he had no idea what the meeting would be about. Hightower finished eating before dressing in one of his better tunics and making his way to the council chambers.

Two Kings guards were standing in front of the doors when he entered. Inside most of the council had already taken their seats. The King was already sitting at the head of the table and he bowed to him before taking his seat and sliding his orb into place. The council was complete and Viserys started the meeting.

” I asked you here because yesterday evening I received a raven from Empress Gaemyra of Yi Ti. They are the force behind the conquering of Essos. She offered to send an envoy in four moons time to start diplomatic relations with Westeros and I accepted.”

Silence enveloped the council chambers before every member started speaking at once. Otto stared a few seconds in disbelief. There were so many shocks in the King's statement. An empire that conquered Essos and if the rumours were to be believed had dragons and apparently was ruled by a woman. It vexed him deeply that such a power had grown in the East without reaching his ears. This could become a serious problem. How many dragons did they have? What did they want? Would they support Rhaenyra’s claim to throne over potential future brothers?

Protests and questions filled the chamber when Viserys asked for silence three times before the council was quiet.

“ The letter also implied that they might be interested in a marriage alliance. I need the council's opinion on possible marriage candidates. I do not want to hear opinions on the alliance. This will happen. They are one of the few Valyrien families that survived and I want to form a relationship with them.”

The council members looked at each other before starting to discuss possible treaties and conditions for the other empire. Even as names were exchanged across the table, his mind turned to conquest disguised as alliance. If this empire could be outmaneuvered, perhaps Yi Ti could serve Hightower interests after all.

Chapter Text

The sun beat down on the harbor of Pentos, turning the cobblestones into griddles and the air into a shimmering haze. Sweat trickled down Jason’s spine and stung his eyes. The stink of tar, fish, and unwashed bodies drifted on a sluggish breeze, an almost welcome relief from the heat, familiar as an old scar. The barrel on his shoulders slowed his walk towards one of the massive Galleons of the empire and he shifted it slightly to lighten the load, when he heard a rising commotion on the other side of the harbour.

The empire had come to Pentos about a moon ago. Everyone had heard the rumours of the dragon riding empire from the east conquering their way through Essos. They heard of another dragonriding family that survived the Doom. Whispers spread far and wide about how they were not normal, how they could command more than one dragon, how fire obeyed them, how their beauty could not be compared to anything in the world. The tone in which people spoke about them was tinged in equal parts of awe and terror.

Tales reached Pentos through merchants and refugees from cities that had fallen under the pressure of the empire. They spoke of the conquest of Slaver’s Bay. Where just one imperial was needed to bring the cities of Astapor, Mereen and Tryosh to their knees. Just one person to kill all the Masters in the cities. Apparently they bought the Unsullied in Astapor and used them to eliminate every opposing force in the city. No one who might go against them was spared. No child, woman or man. Some say that the streets were painted red for days. The consequences were felt quickly by every free city. Most trade roots broke down and the trade with Quarth came to a hold.

Volantis, the first daughter of Old Valyria was the next to fall, but they were not conquered with violence. The triarchy of Volantis heard what happened to the cities of Slaver's Bay and fell into a panic. The fear that the Triarchs felt was seen as hope by the slaves and they rose in a frenzy. It was no grand rebellion, it lasted only a single night and ended in brutal failure. The chains remained but the people holding it changed. Instead of a triarchy, a single person used the chaos to rise to the top. She was only known as the Lavender Lady leading to the night being known as the Lavender Dawn. No one really knows where she came from but most say she was a former pleasure slave who happened to carry enough of the old blood to get the attention of a triarch. What is known is that when the dust in Volantis had settled and the last fires of the rebellion were extinguished, a council of three no longer ruled the ancient city but the Lavender Lady stood over the ashes.

Not much is known about the way Yi Ti conquered Volantis, only that under the leadership of the new Ruler of Volantis, the old blood bent the knee to this Empire that started calling themselves New Valyria. The person sent by New Valyria gave most of the control of the city to the Lavender Lady, but declared that the concept of slavery had to end, if the nobles cooperated they would live. Most nobles did and freed their slaves. The conquest of Volantis was completely bloodless and became known as the Silent Fall.

It was not clear what New Valyria did next, only that all Dothraki attacks stopped and that no one could enter Quarth for a while. Most people suggested that they conquered them next which was why nobody heard of them since. The next thing that everyone knows happened was the conquest of Qohor.

The free city was too proud to bend the knee when the dragons came to the city and offered them a peaceful transition of power. The city of sorcerers heard the terms and laughed. Instead of saving their own lives they believed that their God the Black Goath would save them together with their Unsullied guards. But nothing could save them from the wrath of the new Valyrians. Three times they offered Qohor peace. Three times they were rejected. On the fourth day instead of sending another offer they send fire. It is said that Qohor burned for nine days. Three days for every rejected offer. The screams of the people in the flames were supposedly the worst sounds the few survivors ever heard. After the flames died down the Valyrien army marched into the city and immediately started organising the rebuilding, but it was clear that the city was now under the direct management of the Valyrian empire.

The most shocking thing in the stories told around the docks of Pentos, were the description of the dragons. Jason heard a refugee from Qohor talking about it. On the fourth day the whole city waited for the news of another offer. The woman who told Jason her story was a slave working as a sex slave for one of the masters. She was walking through the harbour when a shadow blocked out the sun. Looking up expecting to see a cloud, the people of Qohor broke out in screams when they saw a large silver and white dragon circling the city. On its back they spotted a figure with silver hair trailing like a banner behind them. Complete chaos broke out when four more dragons appeared behind the first. A black, violet, blue and red dragon appeared behind the first one and they formed a circle around the city, then the white one let out a defining roar before the dragons began to burn the city from the outside in. The only reason anyone survived this inferno was that someone had the idea of jumping into the river. Everyone close to it jumped in. But for most, hope was futile. Many drowned in the currents of the unrelenting water. Others jumped too late. The water started boiling from the heat of the dragons flames and their bodies could not withstand the heat.

People all around the remaining three cities whispered about the Nine Nights of Fire, as the destruction of the city was now called, though people more supportive towards the empire have called it the Pyre of Pride. Fear creeped through the leaders of the remaining cities like a plague. No one quite knew what to do. The magistrates of Norvors were determined to protect their city to the end. They offered the Valyrians payment like they did with the Dothraki to keep them from claiming their city, but it did not work and Norvos had to bend the knee to the invaders. Little of the old elites still remained, the city like the cities of Slavours bay and the ruins of Qohor fell under direct management of a member of the imperial family.

The prince of Pentos on the other hand did not even try to negotiate and simply kneeled when the first messengers of New Valyria came to Pentos. That was one moon ago and a lot has changed since then. Most of the nobles of Pentos had to leave their mansions and give up their riches to their conquerors. The old slaves were freed and were now paid wages for their work, Jason was one of them. He was a slave to one of the harbour masters. But other than now being free little has changed for him. The work was nearly the same and no one treated the old slaves differently from before except that corporal punishment was now frowned upon but not forbidden.

But then two weeks ago they got the order to prepare five of the empire's biggest ships to be ready to sail to Westeros. They heard that one of the more important members of the royal family was sent by the empress to act as a diplomatic envoy in Westeros. No one had seen or knew exactly who they sent but from the importance that the new rulers of Pentos treated this situation most guessed it was someone they would rather not meet up close. Pentos was currently ruled by a nephew of the empress. Jason had seen him once on the streets. A tall man with silver hair and pale violet eyes. He walked through the city with a confidence not even the old nobility had. But the most spectacular thing about him was the dark green dragon on which he entered the city.

The commotion at the other side of the harbour got louder and Jason could see silver heads in the crowd. The people around him got quiet and like a wave going from the silver head to the outskirts of the harbour, people fell to their knees and pressed their heads against the floor. Jason followed suit. After the Valyrians arrived the people of the city quickly learned that their meager showings of respect they were used to was not enough. The guards accompanying every member of the imperial family were unforgiving when they saw someone not showing the proper respect and dared remain standing. Jason had seen a few people who had failed to comply. The wounds from the whips the guards were carrying were deep and almost always lead to infection. From afar he heard the Valyiran speaking to the harbour master who was in charge of the preparation of the ships.

”They have to be ready to sail in a few days. How far are you?”

”We are nearly done. Only the supplies are still missing but they are being loaded right now, your grace.”

”Very good. Make sure that the chambers of the ladies are appropriately comfortable. I will be sending servants tomorrow to start loading the rest of the packages together with guards to protect the cargo. I trust that your workers will assist them.”

”Of course, your grace.”

”Continue.”

With that the Lord left the harbour and people started rising to their feet.

”You heard him”, the harbour master bellowed, “hurry up you lousy asses everything has to be ready for tomorrow.”

With that the workers jumped back into action. Jason picked the barrel back up and walked towards the ships.

Chapter Text

The bells of the city always echoed too loudly in Aemma’s chest. It was their sound that could be heard every time she announced that she was pregnant, they rang when she went into labour and then again as the sound of morning when she ultimately failed. Another bundle she had to watch burn on a pyre. The pitying eyes surrounding her after her first miscarriage, after her first stillbirth had slowly turned malicious. The woman who had told her once that these things could happen and that she did nothing wrong now whispered behind fans about what she did to deserve this punishment of the seven. Why did the gods punish her so that the only child of hers that survived was a girl?

Aemma loved Rhaenyra with all her heart. She was her guiding voice in the stillness that had surrounded her. Her little perfect girl.

When she found out she was pregnant, she was on Dragonstone visiting her husband's future seat. It was her second pregnancy in her marriage to Viserys. Her first was a little boy that did not live for longer than an hour. The master serving at the castle had recommended for her to stay on the island for the rest of her pregnancy. So she did and stayed under the care of master Geradys.

On the island was the first time that she could truly breathe since she married Viserys when she was just eleven. She was so innocent back then, so excited to live at the Red Keep. Not realising the snake pit that was the castle. Every step was monitored, every breath judged by the ever overlooking nobles at court.

Her time on the island of Dragonstone allowed her to feel a freedom she had not had since her marriage. Her chest felt lighter and the pregnancy was a lot easier than her first. When she gave birth to Rhaenyra it was a stormy night and the first person to visit her was not her father but her uncle who brought with him a golden dragon egg he had selected from one of Silverwing’s oldest clutches. Upon seeing the egg Rhaenyra quieted and immediately reached out to it. Though the thought of a dragon hatching in her daughter's cradle frightened Aemma, she had no choice but to allow it when she saw how Rhaenyra clung to the egg with her little arms. No one really expected it to hatch since there was no cradle hatching since the old king and queen, but the next day the castle was awoken by a maid screaming in the nursery. Guards, Aemma and Daemon rushed to see what had happened when they saw Rhaenyra cuddling with a small golden dragon on top of her.

It was a sensation and when Viserys finally arrived to see his daughter, he completely forgot to be sad that Rhaenyra was a girl. He only had to look in his daughters eyes once and he was enchanted. The prince carried her everywhere he went proclaiming her as his little miracle. Much to the chagrin of his wife who was afraid that something might happen to her little treasure.

Daemon was equally enchanted and stole her from her crib when she was only a few days old and took her on her first dragonride. Aemma and Viserys nearly went mad with worry and when Daemon landed again his father Baelon had a very strong word with him but more because he wanted to be the one to introduce her to the skies.

Their time on Dragonstone held the best memories of Aemma’s life. When they returned the court was equally enchanted by her daughter and Daemon very aptly named her the Realm’s Delight. The name stuck and even the old King was seen carrying his great-granddaughter everywhere.

Those were the good days. They even started mending their relationship with Rhaenys and her family again. Until the Grand Council ripped them apart again. The contact completely broke when the Lords chose Viserys over his older cousin. To this day it was one of the worst times of Aemma’s existence. In the quiet of her own mind she wishes for the Lords to have chosen differently. She would not be under the pressure of providing an heir if Rhaenys were Queen. There would be no need for her to carry and lose child after child.

Aemma had been pregnant for nearly every day since the Grand Council. Not a single pregnancy was successful but Viserys was adamant that they would have their boy, the heir he had seen in his dreams. So they tried and failed again and again. And with every pyre more of Aemma’s energy was sucked out of her.

The only easing of her burden came through Rhaenys. When Lord Corlys was lost at sea a year after the Grand Council and Viserys made Vaemond the regent to Driftmark, Rhaenys and her children moved back to the Red Keep. Since then Rhaenys had largely taken over all her duties for her and had helped her with the children. She was a god sent, but even after three years she still did not stop wearing morning black.

Aemma looked up to Rhaenys. She was not only her older cousin but she also managed to resist most of Otto’s schemes. He had tried to get Viserys to marry Rhaenys shortly after she started taking over more of Aemma’s duties. But instead of folding to the King’s command she resisted and managed for all talk about marriage to disappear. Rhaenys managed to carve out her own power at court in a matter of moons. Something Aemma was never able to do with all her pregnancies.

The only thing Aemma could not understand about Rhaenys was how she raised her daughter. She raised her daughter as other parents would raise their sons. There was no difference between Laena and Laenor's upbringing. Laena was even allowed to learn sword play with her brother. This not only caused a ruckus in the Small Council but also among the Ladies of the court but most new better than to directly go against the oldest princess.

Rhaenyra had also started asking to be trained in weapons but Aemma had forbidden it. It was simply no pastime for a Lady no matter what Rhaenys thought. Her daughter would be much better off learning more womanly skills like embroidery.

But even with their differences Laena, Laenor and Rhaenyra were fast friends and quickly became the terror of the Keep. They played pranks and stole cakes but always got away with it. No one could say no against their pouts and big puppy eyes. It made her happy that her girl had such good friends especially since before Rhaenys had arrived only Alicent Hightower was there for her child.

Rhaenyra came to her repeatedly telling her that she did not enjoy spending time with the Hightower girl but Aemma always thought she was just being stubborn until her daughter went to Rhaenys and told her that Alicent was trying to force her to accept the seven. Rhaenys then went to Viserys and Aemma and told them quite clearly that the behaviour Alicent displayed was not appropriate for someone serving the royal family and that it would be better for Rhaenyra to have more ladies surrounding her who would accept the Targaryen family traditions. Aemma and Viserys agreed with her suggestion and asked Rhaenys to see to it, which she did with vigour.

Now her daughter had a household that was nearly bigger than hers and plenty of young girls surrounding her. Mainly from the North and the Vale. Loyal, stable, dependable. Most of them did not believe in the Seven and it made Aemma slightly uncomfortable but she did not say a word. After all, the royal family mostly followed the Fourteen Flames.

A knock on the door ripped Aemma out of her musings. “Come in”.

A maid entered the room and curtsied before the queen consort who was looking out of her window.

”Your Grace, the valyrian envoy is said to arrive in just a few hours. Their ships have been sighted before Driftmark.” Excitement and nervousness flooded her body. The envoy was all anyone could talk about in the last weeks. The court could talk about nothing else except the potential alliances and trades with the unknown empire. They speculated about the way in which the alliance would be forged.

Whenever Aemma heard them talking about a potential marriage alliance between Westeros and New Valyria she felt fear curse through her body. She knew that Viserys hoped to marry Rhaenyra with the heir to the empire if possible or to at least marry Laenor or Laena to them if they would not accept Rhaenyra. He did not think about her opinion on her daughter marrying so far away. But then he also had not asked for Rhaenys‘s opinion on the potential marriage of her children.

She was not the only one that tensed when someone started talking about the alliance. Rhaenys was better at hiding it behind a neutral facade but she saw the tensing of her shoulders and the small tightening of her lips. But neither of them really had a choice to express their opinions. While Rhaenys might have been able to stop her own remarriage, she could only do so because the candidates for her hand were not important enough. Not even Otto. They did not carry the same weight as a Prince from a potential threat.

Neither woman would have a choice if the envoy asked for one of their children to marry into their royal family. But it was more likely for Rhaenyra to get chosen. The Velaryon twins were only really considered as a second option to Rhaenyra as they did not carry the name Targaryen but since the royal family was so small they were considered the best alternative.

The only other option would be Daemon and if the Small Council could agree on one thing it was that they did not want Daemon to have connections with such a powerful empire.

The rumours from Essos had become ever more unbelievable throughout the moons. They spoke about a family controlling fire. Woman fighting in battle, of a conquest that only took one person. No one was sure how much they could believe and the rumours had become increasingly sparse.

The last major event they heard about was the Nine Nights of Fire. The burning of Qohor. It shocked the court but no one was certain if it was even true. How could this be true? Had this empire really burned and eradicated a whole city? But the rumours about Qohor were sparse so Aemma tried to believe that it was not real or at least exaggerated.

“Have the Princess Rhaenys and the King been informed?"

“Yes, your Grace. They are being notified right now.”

”Call my maids and Ladies, i need to change. Have someone bring up a bath and tell my daughters maids to dress her in her red dress that was made for today.”

”At once, your Grace.” The maid bowed and left the room. Aemma took a deep breath and looked out of the window again on to Black Water Bay.

The activity in the harbour was higher than usual as they were preparing for the arrival of the envoy. Usually it would have been the Queen’ duty to prepare the court for their arrival but as she had just had a misscarrige, Rhaenys took most of the preparations out of her hand. She was very thankful that she just had to look after her and Rhaenyra’s wardrobe for the feasts and events that were to come.

Her Ladies and the maids with the bath entered her chambers shortly after each other. They broke her contemplating silence and helped her get ready for the arrival. She bathed and then one of her Ladies started forming her hair in an intricate bun, when one of the Ladies gasped and pointed outside the window.

Aemma turned away from the mirror on her vanity and looked for what caused the ripples among her ladies.

And when she looked over the water of the bay she could see five massive ships on the horizon. They were bigger than any ship she had ever seen and they had red and gold sails. The sails depicted the same sigil that was also found on every message they sent. A golden dragon raped around a golden scepter.

But what really caused her to stare were the five dragons flying above the ships. They were so big that even from afar she could tell that they must be larger than Vhagar. The unknown dragons were all a different color, the one on the right was black, then blue, white, violet and on the left red.

They all stared at the powerful picture they made flying above the ships. If that was what this empire used to conquer it might be believable that only one person could cause so much destruction. It was not clear exactly who would be coming as an envoy. The last letter only told them that they should prepare for one member of the imperial family and a retinue with six noble ladies and around ninety guards and servants. After a few moments Aemma turned her gaze away from the arrivals and told her Ladies to continue getting her ready.

When her hair was finished they helped her step into a blue and black dress the seamstresses had made for the occasion. The outer layer was black but her sleeves were lined with the blue of house Arryn, a nod to her heritage. Blue sapphires were sewn around the bodice making it look like a particularly dark night sky.

She chose a golden and sapphire crown and necklace as well as obsidian earrings that looked like small dragon eggs.

When her ladies were done fussing around her, she looked into the mirror one last time and then left her chambers with her Ladies following behind her.

They went through Maegor’s Holdfast and came to a stop before Rhaenyra’s chambers. She entered after nodding towards Ser Harrold Westerling, who was guarding the Princess today. When she entered she saw Rhaenyra getting helped into her dress by one of the older ladies in her retinue while the rest of her Ladies were positioned around the room. They noticed her and fell into curtsys.

“Mother!”, Rhaenyra exclaimed and ran towards her. Aemma held out her arms and hugged her daughter tightly.

”Hi my star. What a beautiful dress you are wearing.”

”Thank you.” Rhaenyra beamed up at her. She turned Rhaenyra around and finished closing her black and red dress.

“Now remember what we talked about Rhaenyra?” Aemma asked, looking her daughter in the eyes through a mirror.

”Yes mother.“ Rhaenyra answered rolling her eyes slightly.

”Rhaenyra it is important that you behave yourself. "Be respectful and listen to your elders, do you understand?"

”Yes mother, I promise. Do you think I can meet the Dragons? I saw them through my windows and they are so pretty.” The little princess asked her mother with hope filled eyes.

”I don not know Rhaenyra but I am sure you could ask if your father allows it. ” Rhaenyra bounced in excitement and giggled slightly. Aemma smiled at her daughters love for dragons, though the fear in her haert never quite left her when seeing the beasts.She turned towards the table holding the jewels of her daughter.

Most of them came from Daemon. He always brought his favourite niece the most expensive things he could find on his travels. It did not matter that she and Viserys told him multiple times that they were inappropriate for a small child.

She chose a gold necklace with a big ruby hanging in the middle to go with Rhaenyra’s dress and clasped it around her neck. Then placed a ruby and dragonglass tiara in her silver gold hair. The hair of her daughter had the typical shine of Targaryen hair making it almost look like metal. It was a color she had from her grandparents as neither she nor Viserys had that shine. Her hair was more blond then silver and his had none of the same shine as their daughters.

Satisfied with her daughter‘s appearance, she took her hand and they went towards the throne room.

When they reached the doors barring them from the room filled with the rest of the court she stopped shortly and then asked the herald to announce her and her daughter.

The old doors that were carved with the three headed dragon opened and the herald's voice rang across the room.

”Her Grace Queen Consort Aemma Arryn, wife of King Viserys, first of his name king of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Man, Lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm. And her Grace Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

They entered the room as all of the lords and ladies at both sides of the room bowed before them. The throne room was massive, with the focal point being the Iron Throne opposite to the doors. It looked terrifying and uncomfortable. The three sealing high windows cast an ethereal glow around the throne.

They walked through the bowed masses. A lot more lords and ladies crowded the throne room. Almost every lord in the kingdom came to witness the new arrivals. Eager to maybe get an advantage out of the situation.

Mother and daughter came to a stop before the throne and bowed to the King who had arrived before them, before they took their place on the left side of the throne. Rhaenys and her children were already standing there. On the other side of the throne stood the Small Council together with Daemon as the Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks.

The older princess was dressed in an outstanding black dress that had silver pieces on the shoulders formed like two dragons. The sleeves were flowy, nearly reaching the floor and the neckline was bordering indecency. She looked stunning and regal, like the Queen she never was.

Laena and Laenor were both dressed in teal and silver clothing representing their Velaryon heritage, but they had dragon accents here and there showing their dragon blood.

The room was silent as they waited for the envoy to arrive. The lords and ladies whispered amongst themselves.

Both Rhaenys and Aemma waited tensely for what happened next while their children were whispering.

A roar echoed through the Grand Hall making the walls tremble slightly. Some ladies screamed and the lords cowered slightly. The Targaryens tensed even more, than a shadow passed by the windows nearly cutting away all light. It was massive. Aemma had seen that the dragons were bis but nothing could have prepared her for the sheer dimension they had.

It took another ten minutes before the doors opened and the herald announced their guest.

“Her imperial Highness the Crown Princess Vaelary Balaerys, heir to the Jade Throne of Yi Ti and the Dragonglass Throne of New Valyria, conqueror of the free cities, Breaker of chains and Waker of Old Valyria.”

Chapter Text

Every person in the Grand Hall stilled. No one spoke as everyone's attention was directed at the person standing in the doors. The light surrounded her like a halo and behind her they could see two rows of people.

The Crown Princess started walking down the steps towards the Iron Throne followed by her retinue, and it was as if time stopped. The only sounds were her boots on the floor as she walked. Nobles on both sides of the room bowed their heads to her.

Her hair looked as if someone poured liquid silver down her back. The metallic shine some Targaryens had in their hair was dull in comparison to the light that was reflected by her hair. It was just kept out of her face with two braids, which flowed into the rest of the loose hair on her back. Instead of wearing a court dress, she wore what looked like flying leathers with additional armor pieces.

The leathers consisted of a top and breeches in black leather together with a black leather skirt that went down to her ankles but had slits at both sides reaching her thighs. On the back of the skirt was a golden dragon that coiled around her body, and its head rested on the side of her hip.

On top of them she wore armor pieces in gold. Her shoulders, torso, and lower arms were protected by thin metal plates that looked like dragon’s scales. When she came closer, Rhaenys could actually see that it did not seem to be metal at all, but real dragon scales.

She walked through the lords and ladies with a confident step not once acknowledging their existence with so much as a glance. Her eyes fixed on the King sitting on the throne. With every step the twin swords on her hips blinked under the light.

They were slightly curved and the handles were formed as dragon heads with ruby accents. The sheaths were black and hung from a black leather belt.

Rhaenys watched almost in a trance as the Princess reached the end of the hall and stopped before the stairs to the Iron Throne. Still looking at Viserys she bowed at a precise forty five degree angle at her hip. Her retinue followed suit, but they bowed to a full ninety degrees.

Every bow looked the same. It was in complete synchrony. Not one hand stood out from the sea of bowed bodies. The precision was as impressive as it was foreign for the nobles of Westeros.

Corlys would have been impressed by the discipline their movements represented. He always went on about how for a ship to work, every man had to breathe the same rhythm. Rhaenys had always just laughed. Her husband had the tendency to complain about things that could not be changed.

The memories threatened to flood her consciousness and overwhelm the calm facade she presented the court. Quickly
Rhaenys tried to find something to distract herself with. Her eyes landed on the silver head in front of the Iron Throne. The woman who would help decide over the fate of her children.

After a couple of silent seconds where no member of the envoy moved a muscle, the King awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Ehm… please rise. Welcome to Westeros, Princess. We are honored to receive you and hope that this is the beginning of a good relationship between our two nations.” Viserys’s voice carried an undertone of nervousness and Rhaenys mentally rolled her eyes. It was their first meeting and already he showed weakness.

The frustration at the great lord’ choice always accompanied her whenever her cousin did something that destroyed their image a little more.

He truly was a weak king. She could not understand how anyone thought that just because he had a cock he would make a better ruler. It was clear to her that he would not be the one ruling the realm and she was right.

The new valyrian envoy rose out of their bowed positions and the Crown Princess returned her gaze to the King.

”Thank you, King Viserys, for welcoming me to your Kingdoms. I am honored to be here.” Vaelary spoke Common with an accent that was common in the parts of the world where they still spoke mostly Valyrian. But the accent gave her voice a depth that captured Rhaenys. It sounded as if she wrapped her words in dark velvet.

The hall was once again silent as they waited for who spoke next. Some people started shifting on their spots.

Not the Valyrians though. The crown princess just stood before the throne, her hands on her sides and her eyes straight ahead. But even in stillness she exuded an almost oppressing authority and confidence.

It was very different for the people behind her. They remained as still as their leader but where her stillness was alive and speaking, theirs was cold like stone. Every head was lowered, some slightly others were touching their chin to their sternums. Not one of them looked at anything other than the floor.

At the sides the retinue was surrounded by guards in full armor and they carried spotlessly polished weapons. They were the only people looking around the room, seemingly taking in every detail of every person waiting for someone to speak.

About nine paces behind Vaelary were two rows of three women in expensive clothing. The first two had valyrian looks and the other four had almost black hair. All of them wore black and gold floor length gowns with wide sleeves in which they had buried their hands before their bodies. Their heads were bowed slightly and their eyes fixed on the floor.

Behind them were women and men in grey clothes with collars around their necks. Rhaenys seemed to be not the only one who noticed them as some people pointed to them and whispered slightly. Were they slaves? But other than the collars nothing indicated it. Their clothing, while plain and grey, were of good quality and looked as if they were kept meticulously.

Rhaenys kept her back ramrod straight as she waited for Viserys to step up and take his duties as the monarch to heart. How he was raised by the same man as Daemon she would never know.

Baelon raised the brothers alone after their aunt Alyssa died in childbirth. Daemon grew to be an impressive but impulsive fighter, while Viserys seemed to not have inherited his fathers wit or his mother's courage.

Finally Aemma stepped forward and opened her mouth to say something.

”I am sure the voyage to Westeros was very strenuous for you, Crown Princess. Would you like to be shown your chambers?”

Vaelary’s gaze turned towards the Queen and after a moment she bowed at the same depth as she had given the King her entourage following her.

”If you show me kindness, I will receive, your Grace.”

An odd response but Aemma apparently took it as agreement and two of her maids stepped forward to show the new valyrians to their chambers. They gave another bow to the King and Queen before following the maids out of the Grand Hall.

Rhaenys watched as Vaelary turned towards the doors and her eyes swiped over the people next to the throne landing straight on her.

Her eyes were mesmerising. They were a vibrant lilac and when their eyes met it was as if they glowed. For the second they looked at each other it was as if her eyes got brighter before returning to their impassive state.

Rhaenys shivered slightly when Vaelary turned away from her. It was a very strange interaction. Short but intense. The foreign Princess had something fascinating about her.

When she turned towards the doors to follow the maids to her chambers, her retinue split into two lines and formed a way for her to walk. Every individual she passed bowed before following her. It looked strangely organised compared to what happened at the westerosi court. They were perfectly in sync. Each movement and step mirrored the ones from the person next to them. Like a choreographed dance. No movement was grand and no face showed emotion. Puppets moving to invisible music.

It was wondrous to look at, but also daunting to think about what it would take to achieve. The Queen that never was shuddered slightly thinking about what their courts looked like and thinking of one of the children living in that disciplined perfection.

The envoy left the room and the oppressive weight left with them. Rhaenys could see everyone taking a breath and relaxing their posture slightly. The first step of the visit was done.

For just a moment Rhaenys turned to her left expecting to see familiar curls and a short sharp comment about their stiffness. But the space next to her was empty, as it had been for years now.

Viserys stood and started to leave the room and the small council members followed behind them, ripping Rhaenys from the sadness in her. They were probably going to talk over their wishes for a relationship between their countries again. The Small Council had met more often in the last four moons than in Viserys’s entire reign up to this point.

It still baffled Rhaenys how the realm still functioned, when the only person really ruling it was Otto Hightower. The leach had entrenched himself tightly into the weaving of the realm. She was certain that when he saw the Crown Princess enter the Grand Hall, he nearly lost it, considering how he always tried to persuade Viserys to forbid her daughter to train with a sword. Not that he ever succeeded.

There were few things where Rhaenys let out her inner fire since her husband died, but her children were her priority. No matter what she tried her best to give them everything they need to protect themselves and swordplay came with that.

There definitely was satisfaction filling her heart when she heard the Crown Princess being announced. Not only was a woman ruling the now biggest empire in the known world, but a woman would follow her. Something that was not given to her seemed to be normal on the other side of the world. At least if Laena had to marry into the imperial family she would be treated equally to men.

She followed Aemma out of the Grand Hall, taking her children by the hands. They walked through the castle into Maegor’s Holdfast, going past the four guards stationed at the entry. The Holdfast was the most secure part of the Red Keep. No one could just enter it if they were not in some way associated with the royal family.

The only sound heard were their steps as they walked in total silence until they reached the queen chambers. Entering the largest suit in the Keep, Aemma sat down in the drawing room, Rhaenys joined her and the children went to play somewhere in the room.

”Leave us please.” The servants left the chamber quickly.

When the door closed, Aemma let out a long breath and sank into the chair she was sitting on. Rhaenys just watched her from the chair opposite to hers.

“That was intense. They were like a well oiled machine. Nothing seemed out of place, not one person stumbled.”

It was the same observation Rhaenys had also made but she did nothing but hum approvingly.

”The feast in the evening should be interesting.” Again Rhaenys just hummed in response, her mind still focused on analysing what just happened.

”Thank you for organizing it. Do you need any help with the rest?”

”No, thank you, Aemma. Everything is finished, I just have to look over it briefly later on.”

Before Aemma could speak again Laena came running towards them.

”Was.. was that the person riding the dragons we saw earlier on, Mother?” She asked with big eyes. It seemed that she could not hold her curiosity back for longer. Rhaenyra and Laenor also came over to them and looked at them expectantly.

”Yes, my little sea dragon. She is the person who came from that far away land we talked about a couple of weeks ago. Do you remember?” Rhaenys asked moving a lock of Laena’s hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

The eyes of her daughter were sea blue, like his had been. Those eyes should have looked up to him and should have lightened up by Corlys’s stories. Instead they would slowly forget who he even was.

“From Yi Ti, mother?” Her son asked her, pulling her back to the present.

“Yes, you are absolutely right. They are visiting us for a while.” She praised with a slightly forced smile on her lips.

”She was scary. The dragonlady. Her eyes looked so cold.” Little Rhaenyra was sitting on her mothers lap, playing with her own hair.

“Rhaenyra, you are a dragon. Dragons are not afraid, are they?” Aemma looked at her daughter, who crossed her arms and pouted slightly. “Of course I am a dragon. I am not afraid, but she could be scary for someone else.”

Aemma laughed and Rhaenys smiled slightly at the child's response. It was very in character with her usual stubborn behaviour, that she had from her grandmother, Princess Alyssa.

She was exactly the same in Rhaenys’s memories. Stubborn, proud and had more courage than most knights did.

The Queen consort pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead.

“We should probably get you to bed. It is almost time.”

”Then we should also get going Aemma. "Laena, Laenor come on.” Rhaenys reached for her pouting children and they took her hands slightly unwillingly. She bowed her head to Aemma and left the room.

Her children chatted excitedly about the new dragons they saw and about the woman they did not know. Not many people were left that looked like them, so seeing someone with the old valyrian experience was always exciting for them.

Rhaenys’s thoughts drifted back to Vaelary. She just could not forget those eyes. The depth behind them, how they felt on her body. They fascinated her. No Targaryen that she knew of had these kinds of eyes. They were too intense in their color.

Before she knew it they reached Laena and Laenor’s chambers. The rooms were next to each other and just down the corridor were her own. She left her children in the care of the maids for the night. Normally she would bring them to bed herself but on nights where there was a feast she had to let the servants do it.

Both of them received a good night kiss from her before she went to her chambers to get ready for the feast in the evening. Somehow she was a lot more nervous than she was before.

Chapter Text

There is no feeling in the world like flying. Soaring through the clouds on the back of a dragon carried with it a feeling of freedom seldom found on land below. The nothing of the air around you gives you the space to take off any courtly persona you wore. Among the birds everyone is the same and you are only yourself.

Expectations and duty only returned when you touched back on the ground. They slammed into you tenfold, more powerful and heavy as they had been when you took off. 

Most people never got to experience the freedom that came with riding a dragon and so they stayed in the constant confines of the normal world. But not Vaelary. Her mother took her flying just a week after her birth and since she could fly on her own, she has taken every possible chance to get back to the clouds.

It was the only possible escape for her from the strict code of conduct in her grandmother's court. Though she was kind and sweet to her and the person who trusted her the most, she was still the ruler of an empire. Vaelary had more leeway than most when it came to her behavior and she knew that, but in the end even for her court protocol was a chain she could not shake.

For as long as she could remember it was always present. When she was younger, people carefully taught her positions and mannerisms that were considered polite, how to bow and kneel, how to speak and slowly one by one they banished any other movement she used that did not fit into the confines of protocol. 

Her whole day was structured, not a second left undictated by what someone wrote over three hundred years ago. But she understood. For a long time she did not think it necessary to impose so many rules on people and to enforce them so harshly, but as she aged she started to see.

The rules that always felt too strict built invisible barriers between them and other ranks. They kept order by reminding everyone of their place in the society they live in. They showed nobles their place, taught servants obedience and let no one forget that the power lay in the hands of those blessed by the fourteen flames. In a way it was the spine of governance, without it hierarchy crumbled, reverence fades, and the unity of a nation was undone.

After all, without their dragons, their power was nothing but an illusion and even with them the illusion of their superiority could break, when the people changed their belief of where power resided. Power is nothing but a trick. A shadow on the wall. And their protocol was a part of the light creating it.

Although she still thought they were too restrictive she no longer fought them. Vaelary learned to follow and enforce the system. But still she sought freedom in the joy of flying.

She looked down from Aegarax’s back to her ships that carried her retinue for this trip. At first the Empress wanted to send her husband on this diplomatic mission but then he joined the war without telling anyone and was currently fighting against Braavos, so it was decided that Vaelary would go. They could have sent a cousin but someone argued that it might be viewed as an insult.

Vaelary did not really believe that they would have even thought about it. She had informed herself a bit in the free cities about what to expect in Westeros and not many had something positive to say. 

The worst account she got came from Saera Targaryen, a former princess who was banished by her father, the last king. What she told about Westeros made it sound like a very backwards nation that did not know what even basic sanitation was, but since the now ruler of Volantis did not have the best history with her home country, Vaelary chose to ignore her.

Finally after hours of flying over the open ocean she could see land up ahead. She flew lower and signaled it to one of the ships, before flying back to the height of her other dragons.

That was one of the few interesting things she learned about the Targaryens before her trip. Apparently they could no longer bond with more than one dragon. She had read books which claimed that it was unique to the Balaerys family to be able to control multiple dragons so securely, but it never said that it was impossible for other families to achieve it. 

The silhouette of the city before her became sharper by the second. She could recognize a castle towering over sprawling houses. The red of the Keep shone under the sun. It really was named very literally. 

It took them nearly two hours to reach the harbor. While the ships docked and her people started their journey towards the castle, Vaelary decided to get a better look at the rest of the city.

While the houses directly around the castle looked to be in decent condition the majority of the rest were roughly shaped wooden huts. It did not look like they used any kind of sewage system and when she flew lower, the stench confirmed her suspicion. It was entirely uncivilized.

Most of the people she brought with her were already halfway to the castle so she decided it would be better to look for a spot to land. From afar she saw a big dome that was decorated with dragons and when she came closer she heard roars of dragons coming from it. Vaelary decided that she could probably land there as it was the only space that seemed big enough for Aegarax.

She just wanted to give the order to set down when she saw men with chains coming towards them. Did they want to chain a dragon? Were all of their dragons chained?

Fury, hot and white filled her. That was utterly unacceptable. Dragons were creatures given to them by the gods. Instead of landing she directed Aegarax to circle the red keep and he, feeling her fury let out a roar shacking the city below them.

Finally they set down in the dome, but when the people came towards them with their chains she just looked at them and Aegarax spat white fire in their direction before taking off again.

”Your Highness, it is custom that the dragons stay here.” One of the men spoke to her as if he had any right to tell her or her dragon what to do. She just ignored him and went towards the exit. 

Outside the door, a carriage awaited her. It looked old and had little decoration on the outside. Two brown horses pulled the carriage. Seeing no other alternative, she stepped into it and let herself be brought to her destination.

Once inside the carriage she took a few deep breaths. Although she was still furious about the caged dragons, it was neither the time nor her place to comment on it. But she had to calm down before facing King Viserys.

From what she found out, the way he came to the throne was very peculiar. Apparently the old king had the lords choose his heir after he lost his two eldest sons and they ultimately chose between Viserys and Princess Rhaenys, the so-called Queen who never was. 

Vaelary did not really understand why they even got to choose. They were only lords, andal ones at that and should not have a say in the matters of a dragon family. Though even then she did not understand why there was a need to choose. The records clearly showed that the Princess Rhaenys was not only the daughter of the older brother but also King Jaehaerys’s oldest grandchild. After valyrian rules there was no other choice but her.

It seemed to her as if they had given up on their valyrian roots and chose to adapt to the Andals they now ruled. Even more interestingly, it seems as if King Viserys does not even have a dragon, nor does Queen consort Aemma. Only Rhaenys, the king’s brother Prince Daemon, their young daughter Princess Rhaenyra, and Rhaenys’s son Laenor Velaryon have one. How a non Targaryen was allowed to claim a dragon no one knows. 

In New Valyria, who had access to dragons was strictly limited. The direct line of each ruler were the only ones with unlimited access to dragons. Every other member of the imperial family was limited to just one dragon but only if they asked the current ruler.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt and the door was opened for her by one of the men riding with her. She stepped out and saw her entourage waiting for her. Most of them twitched slightly when they saw her. Their bodies trained to bow and kneel on sight but she had given them strict instructions to not follow their protocol for today.

Vaelary did not think that it would help negotiations when they showed this side of them right on the first day. But after one day they would fall back into their usual rules. It could not be disguised for long.

Confidently she started walking towards the gates that were opened for her, hearing the familiar russel of dresses behind her as her attendants fell into step with her.

The inside of the keep was decorated with tapestries, statues, and artifacts depicting old valyria. It was the first sign she saw that they did not completely abandon the old ways. Though she did notice that after a while the tapestries mostly depicted the same three people. Two women and a man, riding a silver, green and black dragon. The women were beautiful, with long silver hair, though one of them was depicted in armor more often than the other one. The man himself did not look bad either, they all looked like the valyrian blood they claimed.

From the history she knew of Westeros, Vaelary would say that they were the so-called conquerors,Aegon and his sisters. It was fascinating how people changed the story of the conquest of Westeros depending on their values. Some talked about an equal conquest between siblings, others claimed that most of it should be attributed to Aegon himself. 

None of it made sense. It might be possible for one dragon to conquer an unprepared continent but there was clear proof that the sisters were also involved in multiple battles. The clearest being the still missing remains of Queen Rhaenys, who died at the hands of a lucky shot by the Dornish. Had her dragon been a little older and if they had not hit her eye, they both would have survived. Dorne should count themselves lucky that Aegon and Visenya only turned their sand to glass and that the other generations of Targaryens were too busy fighting each other.

The guards guiding them through the halls came to a shalt before a door depicting a sigil of a three headed dragon. As the house of Balaerys had done after their conquest, the Targaryens also adopted a sigil after theirs. It had been by no means a necessity for them but it did make the identification of different houses easier.

After all they were not the only house that escaped the doom with them. Some of their old vassals had survived and followed them through the jungle to their new home. Now they were the most important noble houses under their own. They fought with them and died for them and for that they were rewarded.

One of her guards that could speak the common tongue gave her titles to the herald at the door to announce her. The guards opened the door and the herald announced her.

“Her imperial Highness the Crown Princess Vaelary Balaerys, heir to the Jade Throne of Yi Ti and the Dragonglass Throne of New Valyria, conqueror of the free cities, breaker of chains and waker of Old Valyria.”

She stepped forward until she stood at the top of the stairs overlooking the room. The mass of men and women on the floor moved to both sides of the room to form a path for her to walk. On the other side of the hall, if you could call it that, stood the infamous Iron Throne. It was fascinating to look at. The melted and bent swords formed a figure that impressed her as much as the jade and obsidian thrones their family created.

The man on the throne though did not find interest her. He was wearing a red doublet that was embroidered with a dragon, and a black tunic. His crown was a gold circle with their sigil in the front. The valyrian beauty seemed to have not touched him at all, with his more white hair and his watery eyes. It was sad to look at.

On the right side of the throne stood an assortment of Andals with one valyrian looking man between them, while two women and three children stood on the other side. The woman directly next to the throne also lacked the valyrian appearance with her almost blond hair and blue eyes but the child that stood next to her had the full valyrian features. Vaelary assumed that they were queen consort Aemma and her only child, princess Rhaenyra.

But the last woman looked like a Valyrian should. Her posture was rigid and her face a passive mask. Not a single emotion showed on her face. She wore a nearly completely black dress that had two silver shoulder pieces that looked like dragons. Her hair had the shine of silver and her eyes were a dark mauve color.

The children next to her had more white than silver locks and unnatural blue eyes that stood out from their dark skin. They must be the children of Lord Corlys Velaryon. She had heard of the valyrian lord that sailed the world and had died on one of his voyages a few years prior. The woman next to them must be the Queen who never was, his widow. 

Her eyes stuck to her for a moment longer before she pulled herself away and directed her gaze to the king on the throne before her and she started walking towards him. Aware of everyone around her but never acknowledging them once.

She stopped before the stairs going up to the throne and bowed without a word. By no means as deep as she would to the empress but deeper than most in Westeros would. Whispers rose in the lords around her. It seemed that their greeting surprised them.

King Viserys seemed to take his time looking for words. Vaelary stayed where she was and did not move a muscle. Years of courtly training did not let her. 

“Ehm… please rise. Welcome to Westeros, Princess. We are honored to receive you and hope that this is the beginning of a good relationship between our two nations.” 

A stuttering king. She had seen many rulers over the years but this she had not heard. The clear nervousness in his voice would have gotten him a sharp reprimand from Yi Ti court officials. None the less she rose out of her bowed position and looked straight at the throne.

”Thank you, King Viserys, for welcoming me to your Kingdoms. I am honored to be here.” The Common Tongue rolled from her mouth. It had been a long time since she had spoken something other than High Valyrian and it was obvious in her rolled rs.

The silence once again fell over the room. This time it took longer than before as everyone waited for the next person to speak.

Some of the lords and ladies around the room started to shift on their spots but Vaelary kept her eyes on the king. She knew that none of her people behind her moved a muscle, their heads bowed.

The woman she assumed to be Queen Aemma stepped forward after a while. It seemed Vaelary was not the only one who started losing her patience waiting for the king before her to speak. She turned some of her body to the Queen.

”I am sure the voyage to Westeros was very strenuous for you, Crown Princess. Would you like to be shown your chambers?”

Finally the Queen solved the tension in the air and gave the signal for the end of the welcoming. Vaelary turned her eyes to the Queen and bowed to her as she had to the king.

”If you show me kindness, I will receive, your Grace.” A small moment of confusion crossed the Queen’s face but it seemed as if she decided to take her answer as a yes and gestured for two women to step forward to show them to her chambers.

Vaelary gave a bow to the king and queen before she left after them. While turning towards the door, she let her gaze float over the hall and landed directly on Rhaenys and found her staring back at her. Her eyes really were a dark mauve. 

The eye contact was something highly unusual for her. Being the third highest person in the hierarchy of the Empire prevented most people from daring to establish it.

Taking a moment too long to look into her eyes she turned towards the door and left behind the maids.

They led them through the corridors of the keep and through a door guarded by four men. It seemed as if they were in the innermost chambers of the castle. 

Not long after they came through the door they stopped before a long corridor. 

“Every chamber in this corridor belongs to you for the next few days, your Grace. The door at the end leads to the main suit. Your servants can stay in the servant’s chambers with the rest of the castle servants. If you need anything, feel free to call anyone up.” The lady in the sky dress gave a curtsy and started walking away, the lady in grey following after her.

Vaelary could practically feel the disapproval coming from her ladies at the lack of respect shown to her person but she had better things to do. 

She walked towards the last door and one of the servants behind her sprinted past her to open it. It led into what looked like a drawing room with chairs and lounges spread around it. From the room went three doors out towards other rooms. The walls were decorated with images showing Old Valyria. 

The servant behind her jumped forward to open the other doors when she gestured towards them. One revealed a solar, the other a room with a vanity and similar things and the last showed a smaller drawing room that looked over the bay.

”Get the luggage into the rooms and make sure to clean everything thoroughly. Then get me some tea.” Vaelary instructed while walking into the smaller drawing room. Behind her people jumped into action and scurried around on silent feet.

She took a seat on one of the chairs overlooking the water and watched as Onyxa and Draxter played above the bay. Flying in figures across the sky.

One of her valyrian ladies, lady Merra Zaeharyon came into the room and knelt next to her seat, holding a tray of tea and small foods above her head. Vaelary nodded ever so slightly and Merra sat the tray on one of the tables and poured some of the tea into a cup.

Still kneeling she presented it to Vaelary, who took it and took a small sip from it before looking back out of the window. 

After a while she heard a knock on the door and the silent conversation of one of her servants with someone else.

Her other valyrian lady, Faery Longatig entered the room on silent feet and knelt before pressing her head to the floor.

”Speak” Vaelary commanded in a quiet voice. The lady lifted her head slightly to speak more clearly.

”The Queen Consort sent someone to inform us that there will be a feast in the evening, Zaldrīzes Ābra Ābrar Ānogar.”

”Prepare the red dress for tonight.”

”As you wish, Ābra Ānogar.”, with that she backed away to do as she was told. 

Vaelary set her cup down and walked towards the dressing chamber to get ready, hoping that it would not be difficult to get water here. 

Chapter Text

Daemon Targaryen left the Grand Hall with the Small council while the rest of the court spilled behind them like a flock of carrion birds. The Princess was still present in his mind, almost haunting it. Power was what radiated of her the whole time she stood before the throne. Not once did she look intimidated or small in front of the king.

Not even her bow diminished the regal air around her. She was what a valyrian woman should be in Daemon’s eyes. Swords at her hips, dragons at her back and an underlying confidence that she was above everyone in the room. Watching her was unsettling. Precise movements and her ethereal looks made her seem different. Like she does not belong among mere mortals.

Vaelary was a real valyrian beauty, similar to how Daemon remembered the daughters of the old king were or how Rhaenys still looks. It was like looking at a vision of what Rhaenyra could be one day.

Lucćkely for her, she did not inherit the trades that her mother and father favoured. With them looking more Andal than anything. She was completely valyrian in looks and it was obvious that she would be gorgeous when she grows up. Her hair had an almost golden shine to it and her eyes were a light violet that haunted you. He did not name her the Realm’s Delight for nothing.

They filled into the Council chambers. Daemon dropped into his seat, lounging with deliberate boredom, while the other members took their assigned seat with courtly stiffness sliding their orbs of office into the holders before them.

Viserys sat heavily at the head of the table, while Otto sat directly at his right followed by Grand Master Mellos and Lord Commander Ser Ryam Redwyne. Directly opposite to the Lord Hand sat Daemon as the Commander of the Gold Cloaks on the left side of the king then followed Lord Strong as the Master of Laws, Lord Beesbury as the Master of Coin and Lord Lymond Mallister as the new Master of Ships after Lord Corlys died.

From what Daemon had seen he was a competent but quiet man. Otto probably placed him there in the hopes that he would help him out of gratitude but until now he was very neutral. The other options Otto first suggested were quickly stopped by the rest of the council members.

A redwyne was not possible since the Lord Commander was one, the Lannisters only had their Lord Paramount and his children were still too young, same with house Peake. So they took Lord Mallister who was a competent fighter and sailor. He did well.

Otto was already leaning towards the king mumbling about something. It was a wonder that Otto had not yet started to wear the crown himself. Viserys trusted him above nearly everyone else. Daemon thought that they were lovers for a time. It would have been more understandable, but no. His brother was just an idiot.

He sometimes really regretted supporting him over Rhaenys at the Great Council. She would have made the better Queen. But he could not act against his fathers teachings and leave his brother behind even if it destroyed the Seven Kingdoms.

“It is no small thing.” Otto spoke towards the King. “She came with five dragons and there were only three valyrians in the whole retinue so they must be able to bond more than one dragon.”

”Yes, we all saw them approach and there were rumours about people with multiple dragons for weeks, Otto.” Daemon spoke in an almost bored tone. It was not that he wasn’t shocked to see a person bonded to multiple dragons or that he did not understand the danger but he simply liked vexing Otto.

”They are dangerous. They conquered a continent in a few moons and if rumours are correct they had little casualties and most of them from natural causes. We have to secure a diplomatic relationship no matter the cost.” Highcunt just continued talking to the King.

”Mmhm.”

“But we also have to think about trade. Much of our trade is with ports in Essos and if they raise taxes we might be doomed. Already they closed a few of the ports, mainly Pentos and Volantis, for trade. We should try and persuade them to open them again.” Beesbury as always was focused on the coin they could lose. It was the only thing he had talked about for the last moon since the port of Pentos closed.

“Should we go through our goals and what we would give them again, your Grace.” Lord Strong asked from Daemon’s side.

The King nodded and lord Strong took out a paper scroll on which they had collected possible points for an alliance.

“In essence what we want is for them to reopen the ports for trade, to set lower fees for our ships and to make a clear treaty where it is stated that New Valyria will not attack Westeros. We would also want to talk about the potential trade of spices, silks and other essosi goods for food, furs and lumber. They would also get lower fees in our ports, Westeros will not attack New Valyria and will see their conquest of Essos as legitimate. The trade would go through the crown and as a garanti, we would offer a marriage between a member of the Targaryens or one of the Velaryon twins with a member of their own imperial family. If a fitting match cannot be found yet, this part would be fulfilled once the King has a son.” Lord Strong just went over the most important details. They had talked about it before and they heard it often enough.

”I am sure we can achieve most of it and it is certain that they would also be excited to combine the only two dragon riding families in the world.” Viserys always was a little too optimistic. Crown princess Vaelary did not look very excited to Daemon but maybe they saw two different people.

“We should also think about who we would like to marry into the Yi Ti line, your Grace.” The Hand looked pointetly at Daemon.

“Well I was thinking that Rhaenyra could marry the heir so that she would become the next Empress.” Viserys said with a dreamy smile.

"Unfortunately we do not know if she even has an heir yet and if she does, it does not seem as if they would have to be male.” Mellos intervened quite gently. Daemon stopped at the thought. If she did not have an heir yet and was not married, why shouldn’t she marry him. They seemed to be roughly the same age.

”If her heir is female, she could marry Laenor Velaryon, this way Targaryen blood would sit the throne and then another match could be made later on with a Targaryen.” Viserys looked a little disappointed but hummed in approval.

“And if she does not have an heir yet?” Lord Mallister asked from the other end of the table.

Daemon started grinning when his brother's gaze fell upon him. “I suppose I could live with being married to a valyrian empress.” His grin became a smirk when he saw the distaste in Otto’s face and the reluctance in Viserys’s eyes.

”I think we will find a solution during the negotiations. Maybe another member of the imperial family could be found and they could come to Westeros. Laenor Velaryon is an important lord and anyone would be lucky to marry him. Besides Daemon you are married” Otto tried to be diplomatic but everyone knew that he just wanted to prevent any further ideas for Daemon to gain power.

Daemon's face pulled a grimace at the mention of his wife. He had not seen the Bronze Bitch since his brother’s coronation. “I am sure the King could give me an annulment in that case.”

Viserys looked very uncomfortable. “We do not even know if this will be necessary yet. I believe it is time to get ready for the feast.”

The room murmured agreement and bowed when the King left the chambers. Daemon sent Otto one last smirk before following him outside and walking to his chambers to change.

In the privacy of his chambers, Daemon poured himself a glass wine and drank a large gulp before turning towards his bed, where someone had placed the clothes for him to wear that evening.

A small chuckle escaped him. Rhaenys really does not let anything up to chance. She always had that trade. Highly organised and thought ten steps ahead.

He called for a bath and just a few moments later, the maids brought it into the room. They were dismissed and he stripped of the black doublet and breeches he had been wearing. Dark sister was carefully placed where he could reach even from the bath.

The water was scorching hot, just like he enjoyed it. His muscles relaxed and he let his mind wander.

The possibility of a marriage to the Crown Princess swarmed in the front of his thoughts. A beautiful valyrian woman. Powerful and confident. Someone broken free from the standards of silence and obedience, they taught the andal sheep around him.

He had watched her enter the hall poised like a blade. Watched her bow deeply but without seeming as if she bent to the power of anyone but herself. Truly valyrian.

But he had already seen that neither Otto nor Viserys would gladly let him marry someone like her. They both were afraid of the power he could wield if he bound Valyria to himself.

He had expected it from Highcunt but that Viserys did not trust him enough did hurt him more than he wanted to admit. His brother seemed to have forgotten their promise to support each other they gave to their father. Daemon clenched his teeth just thinking about it.

Though in the end it did not matter. He would find a way to get his valyrian bride, even if it might not be the foreign princess.

The water started to turn cold so he left his bath and dried himself off. He did not like the presence of servants. Exile and fights against the Dothraki had forced him to get used to a lack of luxuries.

When he was dry he started dressing in the clothes that Rhaenys had prepared for him. Usually he would take offence with someone making decisions for him but Rhaenys was the one who held him after his mother died, the one who could have prevented him from seeing his mothers dragon again, but instead she took him with her as often as she could.

The doublet was black and had the image of Caraxes embroidered across it in red thread. The breeches were black as well, but simpler. Made for movement. Rhaenys really did know him.

Dark sister was buckled to his side and he looked himself over in the mirror one last time before he started walking towards the Grand Hall where the feast would take place.

When he entered, the herald announced him and with his usual swagger he walked towards the high table. The rest of the royal family was already seated together with most of the Small Council.

Usually he would sit to Viserys' right as his official heir until he had a son but tonight that place belonged to their guest. So he took his place next to Aemma instead.

Viserys was clad like him in red and black only that he had Balerion embroidered across his chest and Aemma wore a sky blue dress with gold dragons embroidered on the arms. They both wore their crowns. Viserys wore Jaehaerys’ old crown and Aemma wore a crown from house Aerryn on her brow.

Rhaenys, who sat on the right of the King once removed, wore a black dress with dark red inner sleeves that showed when she moved. She had paired it with a tiara set with rubies and dragonglass.

Daemon took his seat next to Aemma after greeting the King and Queen appropriately and giving Rhaenys a bow and kiss on the hand with a teasing grin.

Not much later the herald announced their guest of honour. Every person on the lower tables rose to greet her. The Lords whispered about her dragons above Black Water bay. Daemon could see their fear clearly even from up high.

Crown Princess Vaelary walked the hall as though she owned it, not flaunting, not strutting, but with a poise that demanded attention and reverence. Coming to a halt before the high table, she bowed towards the King and Queen together with her retinue.

Her dress left many with gaping moths looking after her. A red brilliance that seemed to have gold threads woven ito it. And a gold dragon stitched from her skirt to her neck. But the most intricate thing were her sleeves that looked like dragon wings.

On her head she wore a valyrian steel crown with yellow stones that were matched by the choker around her throat.

”Please take a seat, princess.” Viserys seemed to have learned from the reception and did not wait for them to rise on their own.

The princess did as she was bid and took her seat to the right of the King, looking with cold eyes around the hall. Her ladies went to the seats indicated to them, except two who took places behind their mistress.

Viserys cleared his throat, stood and raised his goublet.

“It is an honour to receive another valyrian in these halls. Tomorrow we will begin talks between our nations but tonight let us feast together.”

Everyone cheered and drank. Slowly the Lords turned away from the high table and began feasting.

Chapter Text

The Grand Hall where they greeted her had changed over the few hours she spent in her new chambers. Long tables took up the space where the Lords had watched her and the Targaryens meet for the first time. They were decked out with silver plates and cutlery shining under the candles placed throughout the hall. Long banners showing the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen hung from the ceiling.

When Vaelary took her place, the King gave the signal to start the feast. Plates upon plates of heavy foods, mostly meat, were brought to the tables by servants clad in red linen and unceremoniously placed before them on the grand table before the Iron Throne. 

The goblets around the tables were continually filled with wine by servants holding pitchers around the room. Lords and ladies started eating the moment the King opened the feast. No decorum, and no ranks, were observed during the chaos that unfolded and they called a feast.

Vaelary only barely prevented her face from pulling into a grimace, but she could not stop the slight pursing of her lips. She watched as the King and his family started to fill their plates with the food before them. Pork, beef, deer, boar, and even swans were offered for the taking. Looking around the table slightly, Vaelary could see that there was barely anything else in sight.

After letting the Queen start to eat, she gestured for one of her Ladies behind her to fill her plate. Lady Bu was a descendant of the imperial family that came before the Balaerys. Their part of the family only survived because they helped House Balaerys conquer Yi Ti, betraying their own family. Since then, they had served the Balaerys as one of the most important Yi Ti families ruling the city of Asabahd.

No one in the imperial family trusted them, so one of their daughters and one of their sons of the main line were brought to the palace to serve and function as hostages should something happen.

Her lady offered her a filled plate, and after a short judgment over what she had picked for her, she accepted, and the food was set before her. As she reached for her goblet she felt eyes on her and subtly looked around the room. Her eyes locked with the person next to her.

The dark mauve still fascinated her. She had never really seen that color in any member of her family, though they tended to have a more intensive lilac. Maybe it was a color that was common in the Targaryen family, but as she had not seen any other member with these eyes, she dismissed that theory.

They only looked at each other for a few moments before Rhaenys turned away from her, with a slight blush forming on her cheeks. It cost Valaery a great amount of effort to not let a smirk form on her face. She took a sip of her wine to hide any muscle that might have jumped.

At least it tasted alright. Slightly unfamiliar, but still not the worst she ever had. Sweet and savory at the same time. 

“Crown Princess, have you been introduced to the rest of my family?” Slowly, she turned towards the King who asked her the question, her eyes lingering a little longer on the woman next to her.

”The introductions have not yet been made, your Grace.” 

“Well, let me do the honours. Next to me is my lovely wife, Queen Aemma.” Vaelary inclined her head respectfully towards the foreign Queen.

”Next to her sits my brother, Prince Daemon, and next to you is my cousin, Princess Rhaenys.”

”It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have to say, your beauty truly is unmatched, Princess.” The prince sent her a cocky smile that she supposed some found charming. It was pathetic, if you asked her. Though she could see that he was marginally more attractive than the King, with his silver hair and dark violet eyes. He looked truly valyrian and had the physique of a fighter. 

The sword he carried by his side further underscored that. It appeared to be Valyrian Steel and was of excellent craft. If the information she gained was not mistaken, this was the sword called Dark Sister. The sword that once belonged to Queen Visenya.

”I thank you, Prince Daemon.” Her answer was deliberately short, and she fixed him with an impassive stare. He wanted something from her, that much was obvious, and she did not think that she would want to give it to him. 

“We were wondering if you could tell us more about your lands, Princess?” The King interrupted any response that was clearly forming on Daemon’s tongue. 

“Certainly, your Grace. Would you like to know anything in particular?” 

“I think we would like to know how you survived the Doom?”

“Years before the Doom, when Daenys Targaryen shared her dreams with the rest of the dragon-riding families, not one believed her. Only her father, Aenar Targaryen, did. Even my ancestors dismissed it as the rambling of a terrified young girl, but it would not let them go, so they asked a distant relative named Vaelarya, who had decided to study magic in Asshai, to look into the flames and see into their future. But it showed her nothing but fire. That was the first time the flames had not given her an answer, so she returned to Valyria to try again near the Volcano of Onixa, giving her access to more parts of her magic. This time it showed her fire raining from the sky and falling dragons. The head of House Balaerys took that as his sign and decided to leave with most of his family. Some decided to stay behind in case they were wrong. The family took residence in one of the mountain manses they had built in the jungles of the east, where Gaemon, the head of the house, married Vaelarya. When the Doom struck, only them and a few of their vassals they had sent on missions into the east survived. After a few decades of living in peace, Yi Ti started to expand into the mountains they now called home. It became clear to them that it would not take long until they would be discovered, so they decided to strike first. That is how they started their conquest and ultimately ruled over Yi Ti.” Vaelary finished her very rough tale about their survival. They did not have to know everything about their family just yet. 

Complete silence had fallen over the hall, as all had tried to catch as much of the story as they could hear. Their eyes were fixed on Vaelary. She simply picked up her fork and continued eating. 

Rhaenys cleared her throat, startling everyone from their thoughts. “How come we have never heard of you before, your imperial Highness?” 

Vaelary turned her attention towards her. She was almost impressed that someone remembered to address her properly. Though the translation was not accurate to the valyrian title, it was what they thought would be the easiest to understand in Common. 

“After the conquest, we did not think it prudent to simply tell anyone about us. Our realm was young, and we still had internal struggles. But over the years, our strength grew, and now we decided it was time to bring Valyria back in all its glory.” Vaelary smiled slightly at the Princess. 

“If you seek to bring back Valyria, will you also try to reach Old Valyria, Princess?” A man with dark hair and eyes, wearing a grey doublet embroidered with a tower, asked her from his seat next to Princess Rhaenys. Vaelary remembered him from earlier. He had stood next to the Iron Throne. Clasped on his breast sat a pin showing a hand in gold.

His whole exterior showed him as an Andal, and the pin revealed him to be Otto Hightower, first advisor to the King. He looked at Vaelary as if he expected her to answer him. His brown eyes were filled with greed. The Crown Princess chose to ignore the worm that thought himself worthy of speaking to her without permission. Had they been at the jade court, he would have been flogged and exiled from the capital for at least a year. 

Tension filled the air as the people waited for her answer, but it never came. Otto cleared his throat. “Perhaps you have not heard me, Princess, I asked you whether - ”

”She heard you, but the Dawn of the Flame does not answer to people of your blood.” Vaelary had signaled her ladies to intervene, and Lady Bu explained the situation to Otto Hightower.

The Lord Hand sputtered at being called unworthy. A commotion broke out under the lords sitting below them. And cutting sharply through the murmurs, laughter rang. Prince Daemon was curling in on himself with laughter, hearing the dismissal given to his nemesis. Meanwhile, Princess Rhaenys might be more subtle, but no one could deny the air of satisfaction that surrounded her. 

“Princess, Lord Hightower is my most important advisor and a very important man for this realm.” It almost sounded as if Viserys was scolding a child and not talking to the most powerful person in the room.

Vaelary lifted an eyebrow and fixed the King with a cold stare. 

“In Yi Ti, no one without the blood of the dragon in their veins has the permission to simply speak to a member of the blood, and even they have to wait for recognition before speaking in the presence of the heir or the rulers. Someone of his blood should not expect to even be allowed to look at their shoes. There is a reason why the Valyrians had forbidden any Andals in their ranks.” Vaelary sounded almost bored, lecturing the King about their customs. Daemon’s laughter rang even louder.

Maybe Vaelary had to re-evaluate her judgment of him. It was clear that he remembered the separation that kept them in power. And even if that was not his reason, his hatred for Hightower was enough for Vaelary to like him. The man had managed to earn her ire with a single sentence. He had shown more arrogance than even her husband had managed when he scored his first and only win against her in the training yard. 

Laughter still echoed faintly through the hall while Otto tried to recover his dignity. His face burned red, his jaw clenched, but he forced his voice into something smooth, as if reason could mask humiliation.

“With respect, Crown Princess,” he said, stressing her title just enough to make it sound mocking, “You are in Westeros now. We do not measure worth by blood, nor silence lords of standing. A king must be advised by men of many talents.”

Vaelary’s fork stilled against her plate. She looked not at him, but at Viserys, who looked as if that should have explained everything. 

“And yet again he talks”, she said coolly, “ your most trusted counsel was not even capable of holding his tongue until he was recognised, when it was clear that his betters were having a conversation. Tell me, your Grace,” her eyes turned hard as steel, ”is this how you measure the wisdom of your counselors? By who can interrupt the loudest?”

Murmurs rippled through the tables. Some snickered, others scowled, but none dared voice their opinion out loud, lest they became the target of her ire. 

Viserys flushed, his fingers playing with his rings. “It is not our way to silence sage counsel, Princess. Otto Hightower has been the hand of two kings. He speaks with my voice as surely as if i had spoken myself.”

Vaelary finally turned her gaze to Otto. Looking down at him as if looking at scum on her shoes. “Then perhaps, your grace, you should choose a voice that knows when to remain silent.”

The Hand bristled, ready to reply, when the sharp laugh of Prince Daemon rang out again, cutting through the hall sharper than Dark Sister. “Seven hells”, he muttered between chuckles,” if only I had known, I would have fetched you years ago, Princess.”

The outrage on Otto's face grew. You could start to see a vein pop on his forehead. It was almost amusing to watch him and the king squirm in their seats. 

Princess Rhaenys, sitting at Vaelary’s side, had remained perfectly poised through it all. Her goblet of wine now rested in her hands, untouched. When the murmurs started to die, she leaned forward slightly, her voice measured, her words wrapped in silk.

”It is always a delicate thing,” she said, her tone sounding almost bored and her eyes remained on her wine, ”to balance command and counsel. Too much of one and a ruler grows deaf. Too much of the other and he grows weak.”

Several lords stiffened at her words, though her tone had not changed. Some even dared look from the King to her, as though weighing whether she meant him or someone else.

Vaelary’s lips curved, the ghost of a smile appearing shortly on her face. “A rare truth,” she answered smoothly, “ and well spoken. But then perhaps a ruler’s art lies not in command or counsel, but in choosing whose voice to heed and whose to silence. For even the sweetest music may turn sour when played too long.”

The air tightened, for the words sounded like praise, but they twisted the knife deeper into the king’s open chest. Rhaenys met Vaelary’s gaze, her mauve eyes unflinching, her expression as smooth as carved stone.

At last, the Princess raised her goblet, letting the swishing wine reflect the light. “True enough,” she replied in the same calm tone. “Yet sometimes the silence of a trusted voice can cut deeper than a thousand shouts ringing in your ears. One should not only be wary of the music that is played too long, but also of songs cut short before reaching their highest point.”

Both women continued looking at each other. Finally, having found someone that could match their tongues in sharpness and wit. 

Viserys cleared his throat, too loud, too strained, his face showed a forced smile that did not reach his eyes. “Well spoken, both of you,” his tone was unnaturally bright. ”Wisdom indeed. But let us not dwell on philosophy when we have a feast before us. I believe it is time for the dancing to start.” He lifted his goblet clumsily, “to the relationship between our realms!”

The lords and ladies echoed the toast unevenly, relief in their voices. Servants started refilling goblets again, and in one of the corners of the room, musicians started playing a song.

Vaelary regarded Rhaenys for a moment longer, fascinated despite herself. A woman of obvious wit had been refused the throne for a man without a single political bone in his body, and still she sat here between the lords that refused her, and held her power through the fear of her voice. 

From the short time she had spent in Westeros, she could already tell that few could wield their words with such cutting precision. Maybe this court did hold a flame worthy of being called fire. 

She slowly lifted the wine back to her lips. The lords below had started to eat and drink again, while some stood and started dancing in the room cleared for it. It was chaos unfolding.

The King himself turned to his wife and offered her his hand. It seemed that he was desperate for a way out of the tension that still lingered at the high table. The Queen Consort accepted his hand, and the pair walked towards the floor, where a space was cleared for them. 

Prince Daemon turned his gaze to the crown princess. She still looked over the masses, radiating authority and judgment in equal measures. 

Vaelary felt the weight of a stare on her and turned towards the Prince. His obvious disregard for Hightower did redeem him in her eyes, but if she had judged his intentions correctly, he would be sourly disappointed. 

“Princess, may I ask you for a dance.” He stood and offered her his hand. There were few who would have dared to blatantly ask her to dance. It spoke of courage…or madness. 

“I am afraid I have to refuse, my Prince.” The rejection was not spoken with malice, but still, she could see the slight confusion behind his eyes.

”May I ask why, Princess?” Vaelary could not hear bitterness in his tone, only genuine curiosity. 

“I tend to only dance with my husband, the Empress, or the Emperor Consort. The only other people who would have the right to ask me for a dance would be potential consorts. ” This seemed to surprise him. She was already twenty and six years of age, so she did not know why he would have assumed her to be single.

”Potential consorts? Did you not just say that you have a husband, Princess?” Daemon looked on with interest. The idea should not be new to them, after all, the Conquerors were all married to one another.

”We tend to follow valyrian marriage law. The current Empress had two consorts until her wife died a few years ago. Since we try to keep our blood unpolluted, we marry siblings to siblings. At least in the main line. But it might be that an heir or ruler desires another consort, even from other families. As long as they have Valyrian blood, they are allowed to marry them. But the next heir still has to have pure blood.”

She saw Daemon’s face fall at her explanation. It did not leave him with a way to get his blood into the royal line. But this was the purpose of the rule. It prevented outside families from gaining permanent power in their realm.

”Crown Princess,” Rhaenys sounded slightly curious. “How is it that your grandmother carries the title Empress, but you carry the title Crown Princess?” It was a question that Vaelary had expected much earlier.

”My mother died in childbirth with my fourth sibling, a few years after my birth, making me the new heir.” There was no sadness in her voice, only a slight darkness in her violet eyes. 

“My condolences.” The Princess sounded sincere. 

“Thank you, and my condolences for your husband, Princess.” She could see how her eyes got a glazed look, and she almost regretted mentioning it. 

“Thank you”, it came out a little more choked than she expected. Maybe the first time she had really heard and seen emotion so open on her face. They seemed to have been in love. Something she did not expect from a marriage that sounded arranged. But then, maybe it wasn’t. 

She started to really consider if she could have judged it wrong. He was much older than her, but that may have been a factor that attracted her to him. But she still thought that the match was mostly political until now.

Vaelary sat her goblet down and indulged in the silence that enveloped the table. The dancers below them had formed a circle around the king and queen. Some of them flowed with the music, carrying themself with an innate competence, while others stumbled more than danced.

The rulers of Westeros themselves were an uneven pair. She danced as if she had been born with music, gracefully accommodating for her husband's missteps. It was clear that he did not dance often. Vaelary would even doubt that he moved in any way on a regular basis.

Her gaze drifted back to Rhaenys, as if pulled by an invisible force. She had returned to slowly nursing her wine, serene once more, composure unbroken. It was almost as if she was raised at her court instead of this cesspit. 

Prince Daemon had returned to his seat and now broke the silence between them. “It sounds very efficient how you describe your court. How much of the Valyrian law did you keep?”

”We fused most of it with already existing Yi Ti laws. They were a civilization that was respected by the vast majority of Valyrians for their culture and ancient history. It seemed appropriate to keep most of their customs while keeping the Valyrian values.” Daemon just hummed in agreement. It seemed he was deep in thought about the possibilities she just opened for him.

The music rose into faster songs. The dancers kept up as more and more wine disappeared from the pitchers the servants still carried. It seemed as if the evening would continue in chaos while the dragons watched the sheep from above, sometimes exchanging words about lost things and ancient rules. 

Chapter Text

”How dare she just assume her place above anyother.” Raw, uncontrolled rage emanated from the Hand. “A woman assuming herself above the most important advisor of the King because of his blood. Audacious!” 

The glass shattered against the wall with a loud crack, causing Alicent and her brother to flinch as they watched their father rage against the Valyrian Crown Princess. Her words at the feast still followed Otto. Not once in her five years at court had Alicent seen someone so openly defy her father.

He was an enigma. The second most powerful man in the realm. Their King’s most important advisor and yet a woman had dared to stand against him. A woman that had the future claim to the most powerful throne in the known world. 

Seven save us. 

It was an abomination. Power, so openly wielded, was to be held by a man’s hands. Women only had the option of guiding powerful men gently from the shadows. Vaelary defied every lesson about womanhood the Seven taught them. She showed neither humility nor submission around people that know better. Instead, she stood and walked as if the very earth beneath her would bend to her will, looking down on the righteous men of the Andals as if they were less than scum under her bejeweled foot. 

“She cannot be let loose on the court. She is a heathen. The Queen and the Princesses cannot be influenced by her wicked ways.” Otto still raged on, pacing through the chamber, ignoring the glass on the ground. “They cannot get any ideas of their own power and be led astray from the right path.”

Alicent took in a sharp breath. Her father, as always, was right. What would happen if the Targaryens were influenced by her and turned even further away from the Seven. They were already predisposed to sin. What if the royal family diverted even further from the righteous path. She had tried guiding Princess Rhaenyra towards the light while she was her Lady, but the spoiled child ran to her aunt and told on her. And instead of supporting her in her quest to turn the Princess away from the heathen ways of her ancestors and Prince Daemon, the Princess Rhaenys reprimanded her and surrounded Rhaenyra with Ladies from the North and the Vale. Nearly all of them followed the Old Gods instead of the Seven.

Especially the Ladies Mormont and Waynwood, were a problem. They not only did not follow the Seven, but they also learned to fight with weapons. Something so unladylike, Alicent nearly fainted. It was barbaric to watch, but instead of forbidding it, the Queen endorsed it when Alicent came to her. Even worse, it seemed as if Rhaenyra now wanted to take up the sword as well. Until now, her father had not agreed, but only because in his eyes she is too young. But Lady Laena, Rhaenyra’s closest friend, had started training under the watchful eyes of her mother and Ser Harrold Westerling.

It was only because of her father’s influence that she could keep her place in the Princess’s household. But her influence was greatly diminished. Since then Alicent had mainly served in the Queen’s household. It seemed to her that the Queen did not really trust her anymore. The tasks she got were often minimal and unimportant. 

But Alicent liked Aemma. She was a pious woman. Always going for prayer in the sept every morning, giving to the poor and dressed modestly for a Queen. The only thing she had failed at, was providing an heir for her husband, but Alicent saw that she tried. Still she could not understand how Aemma had failed to raise her daughter in the light of the Seven. 

She thought that it had something to do with the influence of Lady Rhaenys. Since the Lady, or as she insisted to be called, Princess, had lost her husband and had returned to the Red Keep, her father had bigger problems guiding the Royal Family. She had not only taken over the Princess’s household but also most of the Queen’s duties. On the outside to support her Queen, but really she used power she should have never gained to establish even more influence for Valyrian traditions.

Father, judge them.

Her father had started calming himself and had stopped pacing. Still, he mumbled something under his breath. 

Suddenly he turned towards his children,who stood very still before one of the room’s walls.

”You have to get close to them.” Alicent let out a gasp as her father’s eyes fixed on her. “It is important that we gain a measure of control. Befriend her and her ladies. Try to influence them towards us.” The very thought of connecting with the unfaithful had Alicent’s stomach turning, but it was not her place to oppose her father And nodded. 

“And you.” Otto now turned to Gwayne, who straightened almost imperceptibly under the gaze of his father. “Shall do the same. Try to seduce them, if necessary. Once you do, we have a way to force their hand.”

“But father, wouldn’t he have to marry them if they fall for it?” It was almost a whisper. And she automatically ducked her head waiting for a response. It was bordering on back talk. Especially when her father was in the state he was in, but to imagine her brother married to heathens, made her speak up. 

“That is the point. Marriage gives us control.” 

Before she could speak again she felt Gwayne brush his hand against hers.

”I will try my best, father.” 

“See that you do. We cannot let them leave without some measure of control above them. Now go.” Just like that they were dismissed, more like servants then children.

It had always been that way. 

Mother, have mercy with the innocent souls.

They gave their father shallow bows, before leaving his scholar. Gwayne started walking towards the training grounds and Alicent to Maegor’s Holdfast. She had been assigned to the Queen’s service for the day. 

The morning light still filtered through the windows into the corridors she was walking through. Most of the walls in the tower of the hand were decorated with imagery of Oldtown and the Seven. It gave Alicent a sense of home in the foreign castle. The contrast to the rest was stark. 

As soon as she stepped out of their family sanctuary, the imagery went from faithful to scandalous. They were relics from Old Valyria and showed very well how uncultured they were in comparison to the Andals. There was no limit to what they showed. Dragons, cities, rulers in various states of clothing and … coupling. 

Some showed scenes that were never described to her by her septas. Multiple people, only women, only men and in various positions. Alicent tried not to look too closely, but she knew that one scene near Lady Rhaenys’s chambers depicted a couple of people in ecstasy on a battlefield. It was revolting. She would like to suggest changing them and she had but was quickly reprimanded by the Queen that never was. It was not her place to change the decorations of a Valyrian keep. 

Not yet.

Maiden, keep us pure.

Alicent clasped her hands before her body as she walked, soft slippers gliding over the cold stone floor. The air in Maegor’s Holdfast was cooler than the Hand’s Tower. Here the corridors twisted like a maze, and every wall seemed to hold a piece of heretic imagery. Every corner held a shadow created by dragon-shaped sconces. How easily darkness gathered in these halls where the Seven don’t shine.

She drew her shawl tighter about her shoulders, as though it would shield her from the weight of this place. Her mind, comparing it to the brightness of Oldtown’s gardens, always found it lacking. 

When she reached Queen Aemma’s solar, she paused. The door was guarded but still stood slightly open, as it often did when the Queen received her household in the morning. Alicent smoothed her skirts, forced her face into calm composure, and entered. 

Aemma Arryn, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, sat in a chair near the window. The morning light fell softly upon her hair, blond with an unnatural shimmer. Her hands were folded over a prayer book bound in pale leather, the seven-pointed star glinting on its cover. She looked up when Alicent entered, a faint smile touched her lips, though her eyes showed a sadness that lingered. “Alicent”, she said,”Good morrow. You're just in time.Sit.”

Alicent dipped into a deep curtsy. “Good morrow to you as well, Your Grace.” Before taking her place on another chair, opposite to the Queen, folding her hands neatly in her lap.

”I am glad you could come that quickly. Unfortunately Lady Fell has fallen sick and I need someone to take over her duties, for the tea I am hosting for the Crown Princess Vaelary in the afternoon.” Aemma’s fingers brushed the open page of the prayer book. “I would have you see to the kitchens. They already know what they are supposed to do, but please ensure that they do not slop on any details. It is important that everything be … appropriate. I know I can trust your eye for details.”

Alicent’s heart gave a small, reluctant lurch. She had hoped to keep a distance between her and them, but with Lady Fell ill, it seemed impossible. To serve her Queen was duty and honor, but to be under those cold eyes… . She smothered her thoughts before it could show on her face. “Of course, Your Grace. I will ensure it.”

The Queen’s smile deepened slightly. “Thank you, Alicent. You are always diligent.”

Alicent lowered her head. “It is my honor to serve, my Queen.”

The small smile seemed to flicker slightly at the words but the Queen caught herself. “Also ensure that the kitchen has a few options from Essos. The Princess’s tastes may be …unusual.”

Unusual was one way of putting it. Alicent had to prevent herself from scoffing. “Of course. I will see to it at once.”

”Good.” The Queen's fingers turned a page.” It may be a good experience. We should always strive to learn more and their customs are so different from ours.”

Cills went down Alicent’s spin. Their traditions should not be taught but burned. She lowered her gaze. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Aemma turned back to her book. “You’re a dutiful girl. I’m grateful. Now go.”

The praise should have comforted her, but instead Alicent felt something like guilt. Dutiful, yes. But not to her Queen. She had heard her father talking, and had seen the pain that followed. Yet she did not say a word. It was not her place to interfere with God's plan. 

Crone, give me guidance. 

She rose and curtseyed once more, before turning to the door and leaving the Queen behind in prayer.

The way between the Queen’s solar and the kitchens were a maze of shadowed arches and high windows. People bustled past with baskets and trays. Alicent walked with a steady step and a high head. Looking above the heads of the people in her way. 

The smell of roasting meat and boiling sugar rose to meet her even before she reached the bottom. The Red Keep’s kitchens were vast, a web of hearths, spits, and chopping tables, crowded with servants. Men and women moved like bees around honeycombs, passing trays, kneading dough, plucking gamebirds. Steam filled the air.

Alicent paused at the threshold. This was not the ordered stillness of the sept. It was chaos. An expression of the nature of the folk working here. 

She spotted the Master Cook and made her way toward him, lifting her skirts to keep from steeping in the filth on the floor.

”My lady,” the man said, bowing slightly.

”I am here for the Queen’s tea for the Crown Princess this afternoon,” Alicent said. “I trust everything is being prepared.”

“Yes, my lady. We have the cakes, teas, fruits, and other beverages ready. Lemon cakes for the Queen and date cakes for Princess Rhaenys as well as variety of Essosi desserts for the Crown Princess.”

”Good,” Alicent said, folding her hands. "Show me.”

He began to lead her toward the far table where trays of little pastries lay cooling. But before they could reach it, a small hush spread. Servants stepped aside as a figure entered from the opposite archway, tall, with black hair in a bun on her head, wearing a black gown with gold accents. Alicent recognised her as one of the women trailing after Vaelary.

She moved with the same eerie poise as her mistress, though she was younger, perhaps Alicent’s age. Her eyes were almost golden, and a faint scent of myrrh clung to her. She spoke to no one at first, only looked about, assessing. Then her gaze landed on Alicent.

She approached with an innate confidence and a gaze that could cut through stone. 

Alicent pulled her shoulders back and straightened her spine. The woman came to a stop before them and the Master Cook bowed while Alicent inclined her head in a greeting amongst equals.

She looked up to see angry eyes staring at her. What had displeased her? Was it something she did?

”How may I help you, my lady.” The cook addressed her, taking the weight of her gaze onto himself.

”The Crown Princess wishes for a fast to be prepared for her. It should include fruits, tea, porridge and anything else you might have. Are you capable of providing this to an acceptable standard?” She sounded as if the answer was clear to her and it was not satisfactory. 

“Certainly, my lady. It will take us a few minutes to put something together.” With a wink of her hand the cook scurried away and barked at the staff under him. Alicent stood forgotten before the Lady.

She awkwardly cleared her throat and tried to look the other woman in the eyes. “I am Lady Alicent Hightower, a lady-in-waiting to the Queen and daughter of the Hand. It is nice to make your acquaintance.”

The Lady only raised her eyebrows to Alicent’s words. It now took real control to not start shifting on her feet.

”The Queen bid me to ensure all is ready for the tea.” It was an awkward attempt at conversation. “Is there anything the Princess wishes for?”

As soon as the words had left her mouth, she saw the shift from coldness to anger in the other woman. For what seemed unclear.

”No, I do not think you can help with anything. We have already seen to our needs. Do not trouble yourself.”

Her cheeks flushed at the insinuation. How dare someone like her say something like that. 

Warrior, give me courage. 

Alicent blinked. “It is my duty, my lady,” she replied, more firmly this time. “I will trouble myself as the Queen commands.”

The woman tilted her head, regarding her with the faintest hint of surprise in the sea of anger. “There is no need, slave of ash.” She then simply walked towards the Cook without looking back.

Humiliation rose even further. She had been spoken to as though she were nothing, less than that. Arrogant. And she did not even want to know what she said at the end. Heathen, she thought. They know nothing of grace and light. And yet she could not help but envie the elegance in the movements of the other Lady. Smooth and subdued but carrying weight underneath. 

She moved towards the thing for the tea, quietly checking each tray and each pot. The Queen’s household could not be shamed by the entitlement of a Valyrian woman.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the Master Cook gesturing towards the fast prepared hastily. The Lady inclined her head in approval, before she gave a sign with her hand and servants in collars and grey clothing entered the kitchen. Silently taking the trays with bent heads and standing behind the Lady as if she were royalty herself.

Smith, repair what is damaged.

She had already seen the collars yesterday, but the shock had still not rescinded. It had been very clear that there were no slaves allowed in New Valyria, so what were they but that?

Seeing them trot behind their Lady in bowed forms, she could not think of anything that would describe them better. The rest of the people working in the kitchen also seemed to be in trance or shock.

Then one of the cooks cleared their throat and the bustle returned although more subdued, everyone’s thoughts on the collars around people that were not slaves. 

Alicent quickly finished her last view over the food and teas before quickly leaving the kitchens and returning to her chambers to prepare for the tea.

One of the maids helped her into a grey and white dress, with a modest cut, covering her breasts and arms fully. Around her throat she clasped a seven-pointed star necklace, which she had inherited from her mother a few years back. 

As she braided her hair, she whispered prayers under her breath. “Warrior, grant me courage. Crone, grant me wisdom. Smith, repair what I miss. Father, judge me fairly. Mother, grant me your protection. Maiden keep me pure.”

The keep outside her window buzzed like a hive. Servants scurrying to obey their masters. Lords and Ladies promenading through the palace. And above them all, over the bay, dragons danced unchained and free. Casting great shadows before the sun.

Alicent shivered but rose, smoothed her gown, and stepped out into the corridors once more.

Stranger, cradle them in your embrace.