(Braavos)
In a reasonably sizable room, sat a group of very worried and influential individuals, discussing the recent events that had occurred within the Sunset Kingdoms.
The Iron Islands had fallen and their attacks provoked a swift and devastating response from the mainland. If word from their spies were to be believed then more than half of the noble houses that ruled the Isles were now rendered extinct.
Now the infamous Isles were under Mudd's control and they were no closer to being secure.
It was a gamble giving so many resources to the Ironmen. A failed one at that, since they would not be getting any of it back, not to mention there was still the risk of their involvement being leaked to the Mudd King.
No doubt, he'd be after their heads soon enough.
"Those savages couldn't even do one job right." Someone said.
"They were foolish to go against a united Realm." Another pointed out.
"It shouldn't have been united in the first place. Why haven't any of those pissants rebelled? What the hell is the Waynwood whore doing?" Was the response from the first.
"Indeed, I'm afraid we erred a bit on that. The Ironborn attack merely reinforced his rule, not weakened it." Agreed one of the attendees.
"Why haven't the Targaryen loyalists done anything? They could've stirred something up, this was their best opportunity to do so."
"There was no need, eventually the Dragon Princess would marry the heir. They probably saw no reason to cause problems that would put them at risk for little gain. She would become Queen either way." Explained one.
"Forget the Targaryen, did the horn work?"
"No, my men have also mentioned that it might have the unintended effect of turning its user mad."
"Euron Greyjoy was already mad, he merely became worse once his plans fell apart before his eyes."
"What were you idiots thinking giving that lunatic a means to control Dragons?"
"It didn't work, so it doesn't matter."
"And if it did? You expect us to ignore the fact that you allowed the trade of what could have brought disaster upon us by a madman."
"I merely facilitated a trade. No more, no less."
"You shouldn't have given the horn, you should have brought it to us instead. Not like the Cheesemonger would be able to do anything about it."
"As I previously said, it did not work, so there would be no point in bringing it here."
"That's enough!" The head of the table silenced those arguing. "Giving them the horn was a mistake. The Ironmen relied on it too much, making it so that the damage they did to the Sunset Kingdom was smaller in scale than it should have been."
"What do you mean minor? Sunspear and Lannisport were devastated. It will take years before I can recover from that."
"I agree, who told them to attack those two in particular. They were the best hope we had at inciting a rebellion, instead they were weakened, it's doubtful if they'll make a move now."
"I believe it was the mad Kraken who our friend is very acquainted with."
"..."
"It doesn't help that both are ruled by Great lords whose loyalty in Erlend was quite loose."
"So we helped weaken potential allies, is what I'm understanding."
"Exactly."
An audible sigh escaped the Heads mouth. His annoyance with the whole situation comes out. "It will take a long while before both cities recover. We can expect a decrease in trade then."
"We can afford it. Profits can still be made"
"That's if the Triarchy doesn't start forcing their tolls on us again." One voice pointed out.
"Whose Idea was it to support its existence?"
All eyes turned toward the same man who facilitated the trade of the Dragonhorn. The man looked nervous at their stares, well aware of the mess he'd caused by helping push for the recreation of the Triarchy.
It had seemed a brilliant idea in his mind initially. Only after its completion did he realize the mistake he made by doing so. Braavos now had to deal not only with Mudd and Volantis, but also a fledgling powerhouse in the form of a united three daughters.
What was worse was that he'd lost a lot of wealth by doing so. Convincing the right people hadn't been easy, and now he also had to deal with the anger of his fellows who didn't appreciate having to deal with even more problems on top of their existing ones.
The Triarchy had been an infamous powerhouse in its heyday, one that posed a genuine threat to their interests. Instead of calling on the Mudds to do something about them, the Sealord had foolishly sought out Corlys Velaryon to weaken the Three Daughters.
The Mudds had warned the Sealord that no moves had to be made and that the Three Daughters would eventually tear itself apart from the inside; his refusal to heed their warning backfired on him.
That was a mistake that still haunts the late Sealords family to this day, their reputation and prestige having been brought low by it and their wealth rendered non-existent, it also ended up costing Braavos greatly in the process and achieving nothing it sought aside from wasting precious resources and gold.
"What about Volantis, it should be making a move soon?" Someone asked.
"They're dealing with another slave riot." one answered him.
"That's the 4th one this year. Shouldn't they be cracking down on them?" An annoyed voice stated.
"They did. It didn't work."
"Inbred fools, can't even do the one thing they're good at right."
"Indeed."
The lack of sympathy for the slaves on their part displeased some of those attending, though they chose to remain silent. It was no secret among the upper echelons that more than a few of the Braavosi merchant princes here benefited greatly from the slave trade.
While many publicly championed the cause of freeing the slaves within this continent, quite a few of those who did so, secretly profited from it. It wasn't something many dared talk openly about, the last person to do so had been disposed of and their family sold into slavery.
The Mudds were well aware of this and had worked hard to stomp it out. Their failure in doing so lay in the fact that they didn't have enough power, with so many powerful figures working against them both inside and outside Braavos, it was a near-impossible task.
Erlend Mudd presented the greatest threat to them since Aryan the 'Dragonslayer'. The former had gathered more than enough power and influence to take control of Braavos, while the latter had the wealth, popularity, and a sizable armed force to back him.
Both had intended to take direct control of Braavos, one had died before he could put his plans into motion thankfully, whereas the other was distracted by his Westerosi ambitions.
It was why they had plotted with Aerys to launch an attack on the Twilight Isles. With Tywin out of the way, it was nearly guaranteed that they would be able to convince the paranoid king to do so.
Unfortunately, they did not count on the son being just as mad as the father.
(A/N: A little bit of background for you, showing why they're so persistent in wanting Erlend gone, since he originally intended to take Braavos first.)
"We could use Pentos to take down the Triarchy." One suggested.
"How exactly do you propose that?"
"They're being pressured to bring back the slave trade at the moment." He explained.
"If they do so, it would cut into our profits."
With slavery officially being banned in Pentos, the Pentoshi merchants had been forced to turn to Braavos for different trades that could make them profit, something that greatly benefited those in the room.
"You don't understand…"
"Then explain it to me you fool."
"If Pentos is to reinstate the slave trade within its territory, it would earn the ire of the Mudd."
"Once he deals with them, he'll go after the Triarchy who caused the issue in the first place."
"..."
Those gathered frowned, though it would deal with the Triarchy without them having to lift a finger.
The problem was that it would also end up bringing the Mudd's attention back to Essos, something they also did not want.
"We'll vote on the matter at a later date." The head finally spoke, turning his attention to a specific person. "Now we have to deal with the fool in our presence who nearly cost us greatly," he said.
All eyes shifted to the man who facilitated the trade of the Dragonhorn and the rise of the Triarchy. Judging on just how much they could gain from him.
…
(???)
Tears dripped down her face.
Afraid and lost, she looked around her, seeking her brother who came and went as he pleased.
Once their caretaker passed away, he'd become more and more angry, taking what little coin they could scrounge up and blowing them away at pleasure houses in an attempt to escape their situation.
She cried for the lost days, for the home that brought her comfort and safety. The home which was stolen from them by the servants, who took all they could from them before sending them off to the streets.
Away from the house with the red door.
Her caretaker's death had sent them wandering throughout Essos. Guests to powerful people who showcased them to their friends and family before kicking them out once again.
Sometimes it was because of her brother, fear of the usurper, or they simply got bored of them. They never stayed in one place for long, Braavos had only been safe at the beginning. The three daughters were where they fled next, followed by Valyria's first daughter.
Each city would welcome them and each city would see them lose a possession once their patrons got tired of them. Still, they persisted, her brother taught her what he could of their original home, of the lands they held, the titles they bore, and the legacy they boasted.
He taught her to take pride in their heritage.
Yet, here he was, only days after selling their mother's crown, whoring and gambling on what they had gotten from it. It was frustrating, infuriating even, yet she feared awakening the dragon, so she spoke not against his actions.
Keeping quiet just as he taught her to.
Once the money ran out, she knew the insults would come, the violent beating, the rage he showed as he blamed her for it all.
She took it quietly, for there was nothing she could do. She didn't know if he even loved her anymore. The kind and loving brother she remembered was gone, just like her caretaker.
He would often remind her of Rhaenyra and Aegon, how if he had a dragon, she would meet the same fate as their ancestor.
A shuddering breath escaped her lips, as she did her best to stem off the tears running down her face. She had to stay strong, not for her brother who hated her, but for her caretaker who sacrificed everything just to ensure their safety.
The blood of the dragon ran through her veins, it was not time yet.
…
A loud gasp escaped Daenerys lips as she awoke suddenly. Memories of times that shouldn't exist came unbidden.
Laying there she contemplated all that had occurred, past struggles rearing up only to be squashed away by the feeling of love she felt for her mother and him.
This world was so different, yet so alike at the same time. People who should be dead were alive and those who lived were dead.
She had gone through all the tomes she could about the history of this mysterious world she found herself in. The change that truly stood out could be traced back to the Andal Conquests, one House that shouldn't have survived… did, and it changed everything.
Her advisors might have thought themselves clever, that she would trust their every word and take their words for granted. But she didn't, she learned all she could when she first landed in her ancestral home.
The atrocities her father committed, the actions of her brother, and the way Westeros viewed their family.
She was thankful that the middle Baratheon brother or Lord Durrandon as he was known in this world had been granted Dragonstone in her previous world, at least he ensured that the library was filled with tomes that narrated the truth, or as close as one could get to it.
Her reaction to it all, she didn't care. It changed nothing, it only convinced her even more that the chains that clasped Westeros had to be broken.
Change that he was slowly forcing down the throats of these bastards. There were no foolish advisors around him as there had been around her.
He did what she should have done, consolidated his power within this continent before making any rash moves, looking at the bigger picture as he so often liked to say.
Yes, her conquest of Westeros had gone well initially, but the cracks hadn't taken long to show. The treachery and the foolishness of her advisors, the distrust and even blind hatred the northerners showed her, and the incompetence of those around her.
Was it a wonder she snapped and decided to just burn it all?
Even now she could see his plans in motion, the Riverlands so different from what she had seen and read about in her previous world. Already she could see signs of it becoming a fortress kingdom in its own right. Even without Dragons, the Riverlands was now one of the most secure Regions in all of Westeros.
"So what if we don't have natural barriers against invasion like the North or the Vale, We'll just make our own." His words ran through her mind once more.
She admired him truthfully, he was everything she had aspired to be and more. Was it wrong to want him, maybe, but she had stopped caring for the opinions of others a long time ago.
There was one small issue, he was married and in a relationship with several other women, her mother included.
Of course, there was also the fact that she was physically far younger than him, but that could be taken care of in time, a minor detail really.
Speaking of her mother, Rhalla was someone she both loved and hated in equal proportions. This was the woman who gave birth to her in this world just as in the last and showered her with love since she came into this world.
Yet she was also the woman who Viserys used to justify abusing her, blaming her for her death. Making her first childhood as miserable as it could be.
That was only a small part of why she hated her mother. No, truthfully she hated the fact that her mother was in a relationship with the man she loved, the man she cared for more than anyone in her past life.
The man who she wanted to emulate but also be treasured by.
Was it wrong… She didn't care. She was a dragon. If she could, she would kill them all. Be the only woman in his life.
There wasn't anything wrong with that. He deserved far better than some washed-up old hags. Ditzy woman who didn't know the harshness of the world.
She should be his Queen, not some redheaded hag who cowered in her family's keep, while Westeros burnt itself to the ground.
At least her imbecile of a brother was useful this time around and made it easier for her King to conquer this wretched Kingdom.
'The last Dragon they call him, as if.' She snorted in disgust.
A warm feeling encompassed her as she remembered the times Erlend would hug her to sleep. When he would sing short lullabies to her so she could sleep better, it was like the nightmares would vanish in his presence.
Granting her peace that she never knew in her old life.
So engrossed she was, that she completely ignored the fact that both Rhaenys and Edmund were also being sung to.
When he would comfort her every time she got hurt, it was near euphoric. She wanted to keep that, she wanted to keep him.
A vicious and mad smile was on her face when the thought of him holding her came to mind. Perhaps she would burn them all to ensure she would never lose him.
The moment anyone stepped out of line she would strike, any who dared defy her Erlend would suffer.
Daenerys Stormborn for once felt truly happy, and she refused to fail again.
(A/N: Flags Raised! The Flags have been Raised!)