Chapter Ten: Nothing Ventured is a Terrible Phrase.
My father, my first father always said that you had to seize an opportunity when it presented itself. I always tried to take that to heart.
As I eyed the rising black behemoth in the distance and smelled the sea breeze of the Blackwater I knew that it was time.
I took in a deep and solemn breath before leaning over the side of the ship and continued to violently empty my stomach out.
Yap, I still hated sailing. The irony that I had hailed from a tropical island in my first life did not escape me.
"Perhaps it would be best for you to wait below deck," the living hernia that was Eberman Bulwer commented as he leaned against the side and kept a weary hand clasped on my shoulder to keep me from going overboard should we hit a rough patch.
I eyed him with a look that was meant to be weathering but felt closer to exhaustion, "I will be fine Eberman. If I cannot learn to stomach this then I might as well jump overboard now."
A child could get away with this and I needed to force myself to cope. Gravol was still a few centuries away at best while sharks smelling for weakness were around every corner.
With any luck I would soon have my means of warding them off at any rate. "We are almost there anyway."
"As you say," the living hernia said as the castle became more visible in the horizon.
Dragonstone, traditional home to the Targaryens and the only Valyrian forged castle in Westeros (I was steadfastly ignoring the eldritch abomination that was my other ancestral home, I can worry about cthulu later.).
Between the great shapes of stone dragons, thousands of spikes and the ever more visible gargoyles I could only think of one word to describe the castle for metaphorically and quite literally, edgy. It was as if someone had taken a magnificent castle of unholy size, covered it in glue and then dipped it in a vat of spikes, teenage angst and a certain program from the mid-nineties before painting it black. To be fair that had been the Valyrian style but honestly only mother Valyria herself had ever had such an insane hard-on for gargoyles and spikes. Maybe Aenor had wanted to make his family's new dwelling as 'homey' as possible? Seriously though I like dragons as much as the enxt guy but it was a little offensive in terms of the sheer number of gargoyles and spikes. Arguably it was still better than what I had seen on the show where it was just a bunch of squares that made it clear that Mother Russia had lent her aid in its construction.
My brooding over the tackiness of my ancestral home was interrupted by the twin shadows of Caraxes and Syrax dancing over the castle.
"They arrived already," I noted sourly.
"They have dragons," my bull answered with a shrug. "It would be stranger if they delayed."
He had the right of it, Daemon had been at court for eight months. Eight. He had only stayed half a year in the Rogue Prince! Mushroom insisted that he had not seen them engaging in anything unseemly but there was no denying that uncle and niece spent a great deal of time together, Daemon had finally wizened up an exploited the fact that I could not follow on dragon rides so I was being thoroughly crippled in my ability to act. I would suspect that they had already gone too far but for the fact that the implication was clear in the sources that Daemon had clearly wanted to be found out and force a marriage.
In any case it was grating that the first major change I had managed to ripple out had been this, I mean come on! At least in most of the stories I used to read the ripples were at least initially beneficial.
As we approached the crowded docks the King and our family emerged from below deck to greet the throng of people waiting there.
I wish I could say that I had managed to get here on my own but sadly I had come here with the entire court in preparation for a small feast celebrating Aenor's flight from Valyria, a custom held by house Targaryen every ten years (when the family was not busy tearing itself apart). It befuddled me that I had been here for so long that a feast of several hundred people could be counted as 'small,' madness I say.
Still it presented me with an opportunity, I was going to get my dragon or die trying. Actually, getting my dragon or get my bodyguard maimed in the attempt was better. Actually even better would be to persuade Rhaenyra to lend me Ser Criston so that I could Leonidas-kick him into the volcano.
It was not bloody likely as Rhaenyra's crush on Ser Criston was beginning to get a little excessive, she was even resorting to glaring daggers at anyone who even paid the man a compliment. I found that to be a little excessive since clearly all the fault lay in Ser Criston's unwillingness to scrub his face off with sandpaper in order to alleviate many of the world's problems.
I shook my head, now was not the time to focus on Cole. Dragons are what matters right now… holy mother of Tolkien!
It emerged from the shadowed sky and eclipsed the world under its great wings, green-black as its titanic frame emerged from the mists of the sea.
My jaw hung so low that I was fairly sure it was about to break off as I saw the massive form fly over us and towards the castle.
Vhagar, last of the conquerors dragons. A beast that had gorged long on the flesh of man and had a temper to match.
"It seems that young Laena has arrived for the feast!" Viserys commented happily.
Damn everything! Daemon had already entirely too many ripples going in his favor! Now he got to seduce Laena a decade ahead of schedule as well?
"Something troubles you?" Eberman asked quietly from behind me and I almost jumped in surprise. For a giant of a man the damned bull was exceptionally good at vanishing from one's awareness.
I shook my head to collect myself before picking up my step to stay in line with royal prcession, "Nothing of consequence, I am merely surprised that Lady Laena would attend the feat with her father and mother away."
Eberman snorted quietly as he helped me on to the pony that had been brought for me, "I would not presume to know her motives."
"Of course, you would not," I sighed in annoyance. Why did I bother consulting with him? Oh right, his honor is only as good as my not being dead.
"Do note," He added. "She rides Vhagar and she is not too old."
"You point?" I ask as we ride up the trail.
The bull scratches his lantern jaw for a moment, "Older matches have been made."
Despite myself I chuckle, "She is near thirteen years my senior. You are right in that it would be advantageous but given the current strife between the dragon and the seahorse, that old seasnake is more likely to see it as a slight."
Eberman frowned, "As you say."
"Besides focus is needed now," I chided. "We must move this very night if we are to see our business done."
…
As we entered the courtyard I felt distinctly interested in the… pack? Flight? Screw it, the flock of dragons which were around us with few restraints keeping them from snacking on the veritable feast that scurrying about around them. It was closer to Valyria of old than the glorified prison that was the Dragonpit.
It amused my quite a lot that I was staring at the varying stages of a dragon's lifespan from the still somewhat young Syrax to the adult Caraxes to the ancient bulk of Vhagar.
Watching the dragon from this close was interesting but it was also oddly disappointing. The dreams and even my experiences with Meleys had shown very animate and clever behemoths, some of which were even larger than the dragon I starred at now.
For one Vhagar's eyes were strangely vacant, they scanned the surroundings frantically but never really seemed to look at anything for long. Her size was also odd, her frame looked more hulking than large where the beasts in the dream were far more lithe and graceful in build. It seemed that this was the end result of too much man-flesh.
Still, she was quite the size and a brawler through and through judging from the long patchwork revealed in the cracks and scratches made visible whenever her scales were hit by light. Even her fidgeting hinted at an existence defined by battle and weathering hundreds of battles. I might have focused too much on looking over the great dragon because I did not notice her rider make her way to the dismounting royal party until she had gotten to greeting me.
"And this must be the little Prince Gaemon!" The tall girl of eighteen said as she stopped in front of me while I dismounted with the aid of my shield.
Unsurprisingly she was beautiful. At this point I had been exposed to such a long progression of incredibly handsome men and women as of late that it had begun to stop being that notable of a feature.
Beyond that she was very tall and if I had to wager not one given to shame given that greeting a royal party in riding leathers does seem like something of a misstep given the society we were unfortunately in. She was also nowhere near as thin as she was described if I recall correctly, definitely slight but her musculature seemed developed along the lines one would expect from someone who spends a lot of time riding. Over all she definitely seemed like Rhaenys's daughter.
"A pleasure to meet you my lady," I bow politely. As I looked up again I saw Daemon approaching entirely too close to Rhaenyra while eyeing Laena like a starved wolf would steak strapped onto a slow grease-covered baby. I really should not be surprised at this point.
"And a polite one too!" She smiled at me brightly, it was a nice smile but also one that I mistrusted given what I knew of her. Then again I had also given up on not feeling that whenever I met new people.
"Ah, cousin Laena!" Rhaenyra said as she hugged and kissed the older girl in line with protocol. The lanky Laena had to bend down a little to kiss her back. "It has been a while."
Immediately they launched into a conversation which I did not really follow as I was busy eyeing the rogue dick who was now eyeing both of them like a drooling dog. Seriously? Am I the only one that sees a problem here?
As I looked around it seemed that the only other person remotely concerned was Ser Criston who was eyeing Daemon with a murderous look and Mushroom who as usual looked a lot like a journalist taking notes for his sleazy tabloid, which in fairness he sort of was.
"Gaem! Gaem!" Aegon said as he ran over to me. "Look! Dragons!!!"
It… did not say promising things about Aegon that he was pointing at one of the dragon-shaped towers instead of the many creatures we were surrounded by.
I patted my twin affectionately on the shoulder, I was a little taller than him already. "Only on fan forums Aeg, only on fan forums."
"What 'fo rums'?" Aeg (sorry 5th, in fairness you might not even be born so don't hold it against me) said with his brows knit in confusion.
"Its nothing, brother. Nothing at all," I would have kids someday, I decided solemnly. It would be nice to have a child or two to corrupt with references and memes.
"But look! Dragons everywhere!" Predictably enough his attention span did not last long enough to query as to what I meant.
"Indeed Aeg, they were also here last time," I sighed, we had been here just last year! Maybe he did not remember?
"Huh? Dragons are new!" Aeg insisted.
I smile at him, "Of course Aeg, do not go see them yet. Be sure to wait for supervision."
I heard a cough poorly disguising a chuckle behind me. Difference in age Ebermen. Aegon was actually four, I was in my late thirties if you added time here and my original life.
No sooner had I said it that our nannies appeared out of nowhere to seize the young boy and carry him off the bathe for the night's feast. Like most children Aegon was not a big fan of baths.
I myself was bathing twice a day now, fear of bacteria meant that I bathed in water hot enough to mildly bother a Targaryen to try and burn off bacteria. An amusing benefit of the constant parties was that most of the court was doing it to where they would usually be far more irregular between parties. Leave it to Viserys to accidentally turn hedonism into a health benefit.
…
The feast went as all others before it did. People drank more than they should and singers sang of old Valyria and its many wonders, if Runciter was well enough to travel or Barth was here then I would suspect that the singers would get a fork through their throats for the sheer amount of inaccuracies they were spouting.
Seriously they managed to turn a strategic retreat from danger by a branch of weak family into 'the brave Aenor' heeding the sage warnings of his daughter and abandoning the 'godless and infinitely cruel' land of Valyria where the Targaryens had been 'most envied of all' to 'fair' Dragonstone and closer to the 'sweet wisdom' of the Seven.
I eyed my fork with homicidal intent. If Joffrey could get away, why couldn't I? I mean sweet gods man have some tact, this is not a propaganda piece as it is breaking history on the wheel while forcing it to watch a basket of puppies get Victarion-ed.
It mildly depressed me that the only ones' other than Alicent to look like they were considering the same thing were Ser Cole and Daemon. Cole rolled his eyes while Daemon frowned and was tapping the hilt of Darksister with increasing regularity.
Hmm… perhaps I could convince them to sacrifice themselves to lure the singers into a pit filled with sharps with laser beams strapped onto their heads. Or tiny dragons with lasers strapped to their heads… No that would be silly to say nothing of how redundant strapping a laser to a flamethrower was.
It came as a sweet relief when the feast was finally over and I could excuse myself back to my chamber, which at my request was not actually the nursery.
Everyone had assumed it another childish thing when I asked for a chamber low in the castle with a window and like most of my requests, it was easily granted. I was going to miss being able to get away with things. There was no way in hell that I would get away with it after tonight which also meant that I could not afford to screw up.
"I am still unsure of this," Eberman said, eyeing the mug of ale suspiciously as I changed into the servant's garb that he had appropriated from the castle.
"Must I explain this again?" I was tall for my age, enough to pass for a short six or seven-year-old as long as I stayed away from the light.
"No," Eberman sighed. "It is the chance of your failure that concerns me."
"I have studied this material for months Eberman. I understand it better than any child to ever attempt it did, you saw for yourself that precedent clearly favors youthful riders," Skullcap check.
Eberman rocked his cup, "Perhaps if I came with-"
"We've been over that," I grunted as I pulled on my climbing gloves. "They will react poorly if they feel threatened."
"Even so-"
"To say nothing of how much trouble you will be in if it is assumed that you are a willing participant," Good boots laced, check.
Eberman grunted, "My honor does not demand that I remain employed or that I stay unharmed."
This again.
"If honor is the issue then consider that I am dead unless I have a dragon, you understand this," I looked over my shoulder as I adjusted my cloaked and met the bull's green eyes.
"Indeed but-"
"And if you come along you will be an impediment before you are an aid," I looked myself over in the mirror and nodded, good enough.
I smiled as I pulled on my satchel, I was getting sort of excited.
"Besides, I might dislike you ser but I would rather not weaken myself by having you stripped from me," honeyed words would be wasted on him anyway, he knew I was inclined to do things that served my interests alone.
"As you say," my shield nodded.
"Good then," I reached into the satchel and pulled out a carefully wrapped little bundle and emptied the powder within into the ale.
I sat across the table and raised my goblet of water.
"Well then, Ser Bulwer," I raised my cup. "Should we never meet again in this world may I see you in whatever hells await after!"
"May you return alive," Bulwer tapped my goblet with his mug. "And my you dragon proves half the burden you are."
We both emptied our cups in one long drink before bringing them down onto the table. I wasted no time in pulling myself up from the table even as Bulwer began to sway and finally come down onto the floor.
I quickly made my way out the window and down the small drop to the ground before scurrying off while avoiding the guards until I was safely on the right path.
I hope the drug I got from Runciter would last a while, I had insisted that I was having a very hard time sleeping and the plan required him to wake up and rally the castle immediately. I needed to by nice and away by then, hopefully with my objective completed.
Or dead, that was also a distinct possibility.
As I eyed the long path up to the hatchery closest to the castle I sighed, this had the potential to really suck. I needed a dragon but my legs felt heavy now.
I did not want to die and that was a distinct possibility even if not terribly likely.
I took a deep breath and mutered to myself.
"Come on Gaem, nothing ventured and all that."
And so I set off up the mountain.
Totally not pissing myself in fear or anything of the sort.
Chapter Eleven: I Got That Fire, Fire!
I hated logical fallacies, they had a tendency to screw people over.
The very worst one was that damned 'sunk cost' fallacy, which makes our stubborn human brains think 'well I've already come this far, cant stop now'.
For example, I am currently making my way up a freaking volcano, to go looking for dragons, to try in tame one, at night, on a long slick path, alone and top it all off I was four! Almost every bone in my body was screaming at me to get back to the castle and dismiss this notion from my fool head, yet every step was forward.
I could not turn back, it was not fear alone driving me. If I turned back now I would never obtain a dragon, if I let my nerve fail me now then it would break again every single damned time I would try. I knew myself well enough to know that for certain.
"No turning back Gaemon," I muttered to myself as I pulled a water skin from my satchel and took a drink before continuing up. "It can't get any worse at least."
Not five minutes later it started raining. It turns out that the gods must have a pretty good sense of humor because they seemed to be laughing themselves to tears. It actually brings a chuckle to my lips as I continue up the now even slicker path.
"What a day," I mutter with an increasingly deranged smile. "What a lovely day."
It did not take me long to make it into that really nice high you hit when you push yourself enough, that revitalizing feeling that you can do anything. Which was great considering I was about to do something beyond stupid.
Well it was not that stupid; a curious little fact was only hinted at in the books was that Valyrian children enjoyed a greater protection from dragons than grown Valyrians whom were themselves about the only type of men that wild dragons did not typically attack for the lolz. It stood to reason given how many examples were in the books of seven-year-olds and such claiming dragons and the instant bonds that formed when a dragon hatched in a crib. I was actually safer at the moment than I ever would be from wild dragons as long as I did not actively piss them off, provided I did not somehow have more Hightower blood in me than all of my siblings and got eaten in a bite by the first dragon that saw me.
Which presented its own problems since a botched bonding was one hundred and ten percent guaranteed to piss a dragon off. I did not like my chances against a dragon of any size, even if I was aiming for a small one since I really did not want to gamble on my being the only Targaryen other than Dany to gain the [+500 Fire Resistance] buff.
I slipped and fell on my face.
"Hello floor," I muttered as I pulled myself up.
Maybe I should worry more about making it to the hatchery first before thinking so much about what I would do while I was there. Arguably my physical age presented a bigger challenge on the climb than any other part of this.
At least the cloak and thick clothing had been a good idea, they kept me dry(ish) and warm(ish) in the rain despite the continued rain.
It was a sweet, sweet relief when I arrived at a warm vent.
A break could not hurt since my body felt like it was on fire, given that it might soon be on literal fire I thought I deserved a quick chance for a break.
I sat down and reached into my satchel while cursing my sore feet. I guess no amount of exercise countered the fact that I was four and such a body had its limits regrettably.
I pulled out a small ball of dried jerky and a small 'map.' The thing that had always irked me in my studies was the lack of accurate maps (they made actually ancient maps of my world seem accurate) so my 'map' was more like a list of collected directions from the servants.
As I bit into the tough meat and looked at over the damned map I came to something of a realization, I was already lost! Freaking great!
I cursed as I pulled out a piece of chalk from my satchel (no way in hell I would bring a quill) and tried to write the path I had come on into the sheet. That went about as well as you would expect.
"Damn it," I cursed as I put aside the meat and the map and hauled myself up.
I walked over the mountainside and thanked whatever god liked to mock my existence for the stony nature of the mountain. With little choice I jumped up and started to scratch directions into the rock, I had a good memory so it was surprisingly easy to write it all down, now if only those damned servants had actually given me some precise directions.
If I had been a little less focused on patting myself on the back then I might have not stopped paying attention to my surroundings.
"Well that is good enough," I say with a bit of pride as I looked over the white on black instructions. "Now if the rain does not wash this away and I don't die I should be golden!"
I turned around and my heart froze.
"D-d-dr-dragon!" I yelped as I pushed myself against the wall in hope that I could suddenly sink into it.
The small creature had clearly already finished off the ball of meat and currently seemed to be amusing itself by pocking at the satchel with its tail as if to try and figure out how it worked. I left a damned ball of meat out in the open on a volcano infested with carnivorous creatures… maybe I was suicidal? Probably just stupid.
The dragon noticed my attention as it turned its pale blue head and looked up at me with eyes of deep silver-blue.
I took a deep breath. Alright focus, you need to do this right. You are going to die if you mess this up. Get this right because otherwise you are going to be murdered by something the size of a bloody schnauzer, not the best way to die. Bright side if it eats me then at least there will be no evidence.
My mind was scrambling over my notes at the speed of a damned supercomputer, self-preservation was a damned remarkable thing. I remembered the four key rules of dragon-taming.
Alright first rule, do not show fear. I forced myself to control my breathing and to straighten my posture and I put a single foot forward while forcing my heart to even out in its beating, it still sounded like it was auditioning for bongos but what can be done. The young dragon tilted its head at me while emanating a calm hiss. No fire, good. No fire is good.
Second rule, be confident and take a position of dominance… I still had not clue what the hell that meant so I decided to wing it. I walked forward a handful of few more steps and let out the closest thing to growl I could, I felt ridiculous but there was precedent for it… if that song had been literal. Oh god I was going off of songs, I was going to die. The dragon did not react aside from flicking its tail and giving me a strange look. Lizards did not really have faces suited for an emotional range but something deep inside told me that it was giving me the closest thing to an unimpressed look that it could manage.
Rule three, know the dragon in question. One of the main concerns for the ancient Valyrians was evaluating and tracking as many dragons as they could, dragons were tamed not on the whims of the rider but based on a careful selection by the heads of a Great House based on what was known about the dragon's preferences and personality. Incidentally this was why Valyrians were willing to let their very young children close to a massive wild dragon but were typically loathed to try and time wild hatchlings, on a societal level they were actually rather averse to dealing with unknowns for all of their power.
I did not have that particular luxury so I had to rapidly compile what little I had seen of the hatchling. For one thing it did not seem particularly aggressive as a foul tempered dragon or particularly aggressive dragon was perfectly willing to attack Valyrians and its own kind for no reason if it figured that it could win. My still being alive suggested that it was not an aggressive sort.
It also seemed to have been more interested in the satchel than capitalizing on the opportunity to either engage me or retreat. That told me that for one thing my Hightower blood had not been sufficient to strip me of protection from the creatures which was again a solid win if I did not die horribly. It also told me that this dragon was a curious sort and smart enough to take an interest in things that it was not familiar with. All good points except for the last rule.
There is no set procedure for how a successful bond is formed. The methods by which a dragon becomes bonded to its rider varies wildly and everyone in my dreams, records and family had a different story as to how they managed it. It ranged from the slightly more common 'it did not kill me when I mounted it' (which was hardly viable right now) to 'I punched it in the face' (Daemon, dick or not that guy was a badass) to the dragon just deciding it liked you and moving to sit next to you (Rhaenyra).
Given what I needed it for I decided to go with the method that Gaema had used according to her recollections. I slowly circled the dragon as it moved to keep a pace with me, never once breaking eye contact. If this failed then I was super-doomed since this was easily one of the stupidest thing that one could close to a dragon. Almost up there with looking for a dragon when you were four.
I slowly bent down and rummaged one hand in the satchel before I found what I needed.
"Easy now," I uttered before pulling out the offending object. The blue-grey orbs shifted momentarily to it before looking back to me.
I carefully pulled my hands together and drew it out of its sheath before easing myself to one knee to stare at the creature from eye level. My breathing evened up as I focused on the moment that would decide my life.
I extended my right hand forward before the dragon which had begun to move slowly towards me before stopping just a foot or two away which meant it was within lunging range.
"I hope you don't kill me," I muttered. I really do.
I sucked in a breath a dragged the hunting knife across my open palm. I forced my eyes to stay open and not break contact as I did.
"Here," I hissed as I offered my bleeding palm to the dragon that would kill me in a moment.
The dragon hissed slowly as it smelled to fresh blood and its tail beat to its side as it raised itself up and snaked forward until its head reached my hand and passed its long scaled tongue across the wound. I tried to keep the discomfort from showing on my face. Not once breaking eye contact as it did so.
It raised its head and stared eye to eye with no more than an inch between me and several rows of teeth. It expelled smoke on to my face as it did so.
Finally it closed its eyes and eased its head onto my hand. I felt all the tension drain from my body at that moment.
"I guess you are not going to kill me then," I chuckle as I suddenly felt bone tired.
…
"That should do it," I chuckle as I carefully pull the strip of cloak from over the scolding heat of the vent wrap it around my injured hand. I hiss in pain as it sears my flesh. I had little choice if I wanted to avoid infection.
The dragon curled up at my side looked up at me with a curious tilt of the head.
"Don't worry about it," I chuckled through the pain as I scratch the softspot behind the little white horns, a spot most dragons found pleasurable. "I'd rather a small cut than getting roasted."
It had been a few hours since our little agreement had been reached and I finally felt good and ready to get a move on.
"Come on then," I muttered as I pulled myself up and threw on my satchel. "Time to go show you off."
The little dragon uncurled itself and crawled along with me as I began to make my descent before launching itself a meter or two in the air. It lazily did circles around me as we made our way down.
"I guess you will be needing a name," I can't seem to stop smiling. It feels good not to be dead again.
What the heck do I call the little dragon, I would need to figure out its sex first. Dragon could assume a different sex if it suited them but they tended to remain with the same one unless needed.
"I guess that I can't check," I mused to myself. "That would be a quick way to get rid of any good will on your part…"
Hmm… maybe a gender-neutral name? Actually…
"Screw it you're a girl, there are not enough famous female dragons!" I joke although I hoped that we could remain as minor as dragons could be. Death did not suit me. "But what to call you?"
I looked over the young creature. She was pale blue with a white underbelly, claws and horns, she actually looked a lot like the sky on a clear actually. She also seemed to glide around me with as easy a grace as I had ever seen on a dragon.
"Hmm… how about Clearsky? It sounds sort of tacky but…" I shrugged. "Eh, I like it. I can even call you 'sky' for short."
The Clearsky looked at me as she glided about and I could swear I heard her snort.
"It's either that or Fluffles," yap it was a growl that time.
"Clearsky it is then!" I laugh.
It was a little bit before I finally ran into a group of armsmen led by none other than my bull.
They stopped in their tracks up the steps as Clearsky dropped to the ground in front of me and growling.
"Prince Gaemon!" The tall bull shouted with a genuine smile on his face, that was a first. Then again he was screwed if I died so it was understandable. "You were successful!"
I step forward and pat Sky reassuringly, "Indeed Ebermen, I'd like to introduce you to Clearsky."
He made a slightly pained expression at my choice of name but quickly crushed it behind his face of relief as he turned to the other men.
"You!" He pointed to the lankiest of the dozen men. "Report back immediately that the prince is safe!"
"And leave out my Sky if you would," I add with my usual bright smile. "I want to surprise them."
"Y-yes milord," the boy (heh, he is at least fourteen years my body's senior) answered quickly before launching himself down the path.
"Right, Men!" the bull bellowed. "Gather around the prince and let us see him back to the king safely!"
The men were less unflappable than my guard as they gave sky a wide berth which dragon did not mind as it stayed close to me, crawling instead of taking flight as if to ensure I was at arm's (wing's?) length. I took advantage of their separation to get an update.
"How did it go?" I whispered to my shield.
"Not well," he whispered back. "The queen wants my head as is her right."
Well that was to be expected, I would have to mitigate that to the best of my abilities. "And the king?"
The Bulwer was slow to respond, "he… he was quite concerned."
"You are a bad liar Ebermen," I knew that on a good day I was an inconvenience away from the king's leisurely life of resolute ignorance and hedonism. "It is actually probably for the best that way, should contain to uproar."
"I would not be so certain," the bull added cautiously. "As we departed the castle it seemed like something had stirred everyone in the apartments to frantic action, I would think it was your absence save for my having already departed along with the other teams sent to find you."
That was… unexpected. If only Alicent was angry then it would be of little to no concern, she could be managed as long as I avoided pushing her too far for a time was sufficiently heartfelt in my apology. I wondered how everyone else was reacting.
"And what did my sister have to say about all of this?" I queried, I felt a tad bit… disappointed that her reaction was not mentioned.
Bulwer shrugged slightly enough that some of the men might have assumed that he was just rolling them, "She had yet to be roused when I departed, understandably it was dubbed an urgent matter."
"Of course," I passed one hand down Sky's neck. I surprised me how quickly I felt the bond growing, I'd known the creature for a few hours and I already felt a strangely close bond with it. I did not think it would happen so quickly.
Bulwer eyed Sky before snorting, "I had thought that you would prefer looking for a larger beast."
"She picked me," I answered solemnly. More specifically she chose my meat… bad choice of words thank Bat that I did not say it out loud.
"As you say," he answered as was his custom.
As the castle became visible I saw that we were being expected.
Sure, enough the Hand was waiting for us at the gate. Why was it that I always had Strong to deal with whenever things went sideways? I decided to go with audacity.
"Lord Strong!" I smile. "Beautiful night is it not? I could not help but go for a walk!"
He gave me a cold look for a moment, whatever he was about to say was drowned out by the most glorious sound I had ever heard.
"I am not familiar with this word my lord," I tilt my head. "What does 'Eep' mean Lord Strong?"
The Hand cleared his throat, "It is nothing my prince. I was merely surprised to see that you have acquired a dragon."
I smile wider while scratching Sky's head.
"This is Clearsky," and more pained expressions, screw you all to hell! "I can't wait to show him to mother and the king."
"That might have to wait, my prince," Lord Strong said before looking up at Bulwer. "See that the prince is returned to his room for now."
"Why?" I asked but the Hand was already. Turning away.
"Lord Strong!" I repeated myself.
"We will speak later my prince-," Strong began to say before Sky reacted to my rising agitation.
The young dragon hissed and let out a small puff of smoke.
"What. Is. Happening. My Lord Hand," I asked through grit teeth. I was tired but something was happening, something bad enough that my vanishing was a secondary concern.
The Lord Hand eyed me for a moment before saying two words, "Your uncle."Chapter Twelve: Expletive.
Machiavelli might have been on to something when he said that fear had its uses. I was positively giddy at how terrified the men around me were as I and Sky (heh, that rhymed) made our way through the castle behind the Lord Hand. I refused to be separated from my dragon and it was not like anyone had the balls to try and mick a fight with a living flamethrower that had greater social status than you. They probably assumed that it was just a continuation of my childish behavior, which was better than realizing that I was conditioning the dragon to get used to people and being indoors. Strangely enough Sky seemed pretty content to follow my lead with minimal fuss, taking casual note of the people and her surroundings for a few moments before deeming them beneath her notice. I had to admit that it was mildly irritating that my hernia was the exception to the rule still and that Sky seemed completely unperturbed by the man.
That was all secondary to my primary concern, what the seven hells flooded with syphilis did that fool do? That Lord Strong refused to elaborate further meant that he either did not know or that it was damaging enough that he would not say it in public. I did not like either option. I found that keeping one hand on Sky helped keep me calm… oh great I'm relying on a homicidal apex predator for emotional stability. This is my life now.
"How bad?" I ask while clearing my throat. The man already had a subpar impression of me, might as well ask.
The Hand looked over to me and arched a brow, "What do you mean my Prince?"
"You know what I mean," I sighed. "I-I want an idea so that I might prepare myself."
"You are an odd child," the man with those cold eyes noted. "As you said my prince. It is 'bad,' so much so that all save your royal mother had forgotten of your disappearance until the runner arrived."
I sucked in a deep breath, "That is bad."
"Quite," the Hand noted as we arrived in one of the audience halls of the castle. Unsurprisingly it was also shaped like a dragon.
I could already hear the muffled sound of yelling.
"Wait a moment," The Hand went in and left the door slightly open.
"Your Grace!" I heard the Hand announce and cut through the yelling. "I have brought the Prince!"
"So he has been found?" Mothe-Alicent, Alicent said with a deep relief.
"Why did you bring him here?" The King asked. Oh great, he had his murder-tone on.
"There are circumstances your grace," the overworked hand added with a moment of uncharacteristic hesitance. "Circumstances that required I bring him here immediately despite the situation."
"Is he harmed?" Mother asked with a murderous tone in her voice.
"Not… exactly your grace," the Hand said.
"If it is so important as to require interrupting this," I heard disgust enter his voice. "Whatever this is, then bring him in."
"As you say your grace," the Hand acknowledged. Foe or not that guy needed a raise. "You may come in my prince."
As I entered the room my world froze.
On the throne was Viserys with a look of visceral rage that trumped the pit-incident carved deep into his face. Honestly if he was not wearing a night shirt with his crown hastily put on a bedhead I would say he looked terrifying.
Next to him was Alicent whose coloring made it clear she had been screaming quite a bit up until now although the sight of me seemed to have been enough to bring tears to her eyes.
Flanking them were Eustace, the fat waste of space that I knew would screw us all later in his book and the current Master of Laws and the kindly old Beesbury along with the annoyingly generic Harrold Westerling whom along with his six brothers were occupying the room.
They were not the issue however.
The first one I noticed was Ser Criston whom looked on the verge (sadly) of a stroke with a red face and eyes so angry that they looked like they were about to shoot lasers of pure rage at his target.
Said target was Daemon Targaryen who looked entirely too proud of himself as he sat across from his brother nothing but a pair of black breeches, Darksister and a satisfied smirk.
Across from him and the council was Rhaenyra wearing a look somewhere between horror and shame next to… Laena Velaryon who looked strangely sheepish and embarrassed.....
And both were wearing crumpled up gowns…. No….
What?!?!?!?!?!?!?! THIS IS THE FREAKING RIPPLE I GET?!?!?! NO! I DEMAND A RECOUNT AND AN IMMEDIATE EXECUTION FOR THIS DICK OF A BAT!!!!
I started hyperventilating before roaring at the top of my lungs.
"What. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" That made everyone in the room's eyebrows shoot up so high that it almost made them jump out of their chairs.
As I ran out of breath the entire room went into a stunned silence… for about three seconds before Sky charged into the room, stopped in front of me, let out as impressive a roar as she could manage before spitting a stream of flame above her that looked suspiciously like an exclamation mark.
Then the screaming started.
…
A few minutes later I was sitting on a small chair between the two offending parties with Ebermen holding a firm hand on my shoulder while I stroked Sky's head which lay on my lap. I was fairly sure my right eye was twitching wildly. For her part Sky did not take much note of all the eyes in the room focused on her as she graciously accepted my attention.
"Y-you have a dragon," Alicent was whiter than the Hightower crest and she smoothed out her skirt with one hand and clutched onto Viserys with the other.
"Yes mother," twitch. "I just got her today."
Twitch.
Alicent let out a nervous laugh, "I must say that I wish you had made it known that wished to try it."
Twitch.
"I feared you might have thought it foolish mother," I answer back in a sweet tone. Twitch. "Clearly foolishness is not as irregular as I had thought."
Laena of all people spoke next, "Well it seems mother was not mistaken about your boldness."
Twitch. I could swear I heard my neck crack from how quickly it whipped to her as Sky growled ever so slightly.
"It was a calculated risk," I answer back sweetly. Twitch. "The dreams and the books made it seem safe. Amazing how a seemingly safe course of action can be quite foolish in the long run is it not?"
She had the decency to blush and not answer. Good, she had a lick of sense.
"Enough Gaemon," Viserys said slowly. "I can appreciate that this moment is… difficult for you. But do understand that you do not have sole claim to outrage here."
"Of course, your grace," twitch. He stopped for a moment and for the first time seemed to notice that I did not call him 'father.'
He grunted before clearing his throat, "Daemon."
"Yes, brother," Daemon asked carefully. If nothing else the shock had taken the smirk off of the would-be Aegon.
"I will ask this and this alone, what did you intend to achieve?" Viserys asked with something in his voice that made it clear that he was trying to find some sanity in his brother's madness.
"We were in our cups brother," he said with a shrug. "It was an accident."
Twitch. Who the hell did you think was gullible enough to believe that?"
"Is that so?" Oh right of course.
"It is fortunate we were stopped in time to prevent Rhaenyra from participa-" He was cut off by a hiss from mother-
Twitch
From Alicent. Not the time to engage with that particular issue.
"There is a child in the room Daemon. Control your tongue or it will be ripped from your treacherous mouth!" Viserys placed a controlling hand on her own as she took a breath to collect herself.
He freaking pulled it off that magnificent dick, I would be sure to preserve it in a jar after I fed him to Sky. Sorry Sky but for the good of mankind it must be destroyed. Clearly his genitalia needed to be sealed into a jar buried in some unmarked part of the sea lest it come to life and proceed to continue literally fucking up my plans.
"A child?" Daemon asked with a raised brow, "Your grace, he has a dragon and speaks like a maester, he is as much a child as I a maid."
Twitch, I am going to use his windpipe as a leg warmer.
"Regardless of his condition," Viserys said with the weight of stone. "He clearly still has the judgement of a child, do not insult my son again Daemon since clearly the child has more sense in his head than the lot of you."
Twitch. Huh fatherly affection, that's a new one.
"Of course, brother," Daemon said with a shrug.
"Do not attempt to be glib Daemon," Viserys said with a glare. "You are fortunate that I do not shorten you by a head."
Yes!!! Kill him, kill him! We need to exterminate him now! He must die now!!!
"Your grace," Eustace coughed before speaking in his annoyingly high-pitched voice. "It must be noted that no man is as accursed as the kin-slayer."
Viserys grunted, "Exile then."
"Your grace," Laena spoke up. "I may speak-"
"No," Viserys said with a sidelong glance. "You may not. Pray for both your sakes that I do not tell your lord father of this, this… abomination."
"Abomination?" Daemon says with a scoffed. "Come now brother! We are the ilk of Valyria! Nothing we did would condemned in our true homeland!"
"Risking the dignity of your house? Dishonoring your niece? Antagonizing a major vassal?" Mother listed off on her hands the very things I was thinking. "Why my dear Daemon, I had assumed that you were familiar with the Freehold? You must surely no that you would be dead on sight if you had done the same thing there!"
You tell him Mom!
Twitch, shit I was calling her Mom internally.
"Enough!" Viserys roared. "Daemon, you are hereby exiled from the Seven Kingdoms on pain of death!"
What?
"What?" Daemon asked as his face blanched of color.
"You have gone to far and have in doing so shamed our vassal, our family, my daughter, myself and our father's memory," As he went on with his list more and more pain showed on that moronic face. "He would be ashamed to see you become what you are Daemon, I can only say that I am glad that he did not live to see this."
Daemon did not respond immediately but his face has gone as white as his hair by this point. With a bit of a tremble he pulled himself up before speaking, "Might I go gather my things brother?"
"You may," Viserys said curtly. "Ser Westerling and Ser Thorne will accompany you. Farewell Daemon."
"Farewell brother," Daemon answered robotically as he marched out of the hall tailed by the two kingsguard.
What the hell had he been thinking? I asked myself. He had been in such a good position at the court, he was working his way into Rhaenyra's confidence. What would make him think that he could have gotten away with trying to get them both into bed?
Then a thought occurred to me.
Would anyone have found out if I had not gone missing and half the castle had been roused to find me? Holy crap. He could have gotten away with it and easily.
That magnificent son of a bitch.
"Laena Velaryon," Viserys said after the doors closed again. The girl must have been surprised because her spine looked straighter than a brand-new toothpick.
"Yes you grace!" I guess she was not as fearless as her mother after all because her eyes were colored in fear. Hmm, I guess her bravery did not last long when faced down by a King with no family support. I almost felt sorry for the poor little fool.
"I must apologize," the King said slowly as everyone else in the room shot him a questioning look. "I fear that you drank too deeply at the feast and fell asleep in the halls."
Twitch, oh I see.
"Your Grace?" The girl asked as I sighed.
"He is giving you a way out," I said with annoyance. "I suggest you take it."
"O-of course your grace!" The Velaryon said quickly while nodding enthusiastically. "I fear that I have shamed myself!"
"Indeed, you have," Viserys said with a glare in his eyes. "You are invited to remain a guest of the court until your lady mother can be recalled. I do fear that it would perhaps be better that only she learns of the night's events, less your father engages in rash action."
Heh, it was amusing to see the owner of the world's strongest dragon be man-handled. The threat was clear, if Corlys ever learned of this then he would try to avenge himself on Daemon, probably dying in the process.
"Of course, you grace! I thank you for the kind offer," she said hurriedly.
"Good!" Viserys said as his mood turned back to sunny. "Ser Fell would you please take the Lady Velaryon back to her chambers?"
"Of course you grace," The designated guard nodded as he followed the young Velaryon out of the room.
"Be sure that you stay outside of her room Ser Willas!" Mom shouted as the doors closed.
Surprisingly Rhaenyra was not the next one on the chopping block.
The king finally looked over to me.
"You drugged Ser Bulwer," it was not a question.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to smile, "it seemed necessary."
"It seemed necessary," the King repeated. "It seemed necessary to drug your sworn shield."
"Ser Bulwer is a good if terse knight," I answer. "He would have wanted to stop me or come."
"As he should," Mother said with obvious annoyance.
"But I needed a dragon," I responded. "Now I have her."
Viserys carefully brought a hand up to palm his face, "Why do you need a dragon lad?"
"Because no one will try to hurt me if I have a dragon," I answer simply.
A furrowed brow from the king and a questioning look from mother.
"But my dear that's what Ser Bulwer is for," she explains with a sweet smile.
Alright, time to drop it. "Ser Bulwer protects me from people, Sky will protect me from dragons."
That got a moment of silence.
"Sky?" Viserys asked.
"I named her Clearsky," I answer and yet another round of pained faces. I was not good at names, sue me.
"It's a lovely name my dear," Mom said reassuringly, oh great. You know you said something ridiculous when your mother has to reassure you.
"In any case," I stressed. "Sky will keep me safe."
"Explain Gaemon," Viserys said slowly.
"Uncle Daemon scared me and in the dreams scary people with dragons kill people without dragons easily," I shrugged. "If have a dragon then I will be safe."
Surprisingly enough the Lord Hand snorted, "If nothing else he is practical your grace."
"I am aware Lord Strong," Viserys noted with some agitation. "Daemon, your uncle would never try to harm you. He is a fool but not a kin-slayer."
"But once she can fly I can fight!" I cracked a grin, "Or run away, smaller dragons are faster."
Viserys sighed.
"Very well, Rhaenyra!" He shouted and made Rhaenyra jump in place. He was doing that a lot today.
"Y-yes father?" She asked.
"You are to instruct your brother."
"Yes father," she said without resistance.
"Good," Viserys said while scratching at his heavy red eyes. "Gaemon, I must speak to your sister alone. You may return to you chamber."
Really? That's it? Not even a slap on the wrist for almost getting myself killed?
"Of course, your grace," I stand up and bow before wasting no time in getting the hell out of there.
As I made my way out of the room I overheard the beginning of another conversation that made me double my speed.
"Do you care to explain what exactly you were doing to Velaryon when you were found?" I did not need to know anything else. What in the seven hells was wrong with these people.
…
As we walked to my chamber I was beginning to feel dead on my feet. I was now as emotionally drained as I was physically drained.
"I lost control back there," I muttered.
My bull snorted as he walked in pace with the little she-dragon, "As you say."
"Not the time for lip," I muttered. Somehow, I had completely lost control of the day at some point. It had gone so freaking far sideways that I had lost all grips on what the hell was happening.
"You seem downtrodden for having succeeded in taming a dragon at such a young age," he observed.
"Tamed is a strong word," I shoot back. "And I feel several centuries old right now."
"That would not be surprising," he observed.
"Goodnight Ser Bulwer," I smiled at my hernia as I closed my door.
The shield nodded as he assumed his post next to my door, "Sleep well, you will need it."
As I was left in the relative peace of my room I let myself expel a long and deep breath. Tonight was meant to be a big success, instead it was a damned mess.
I chuckled, "Heh, that rhymed."
I did not make a lick of difference, everyone was still on the same route. If anything, the seeds for bitterness and resentment were even more thoroughly sowed than they were before.
Strangely enough I found it hard to care that much. I was bone tired.
I was ready to sleep. Sleep for a long, long time.
Then I turned around to find that Sky has already coiled into a ball on my bed. Despite myself I smile.
"Fair enough," I mutter as I crawl onto what space is left and close my eyes.
Then I felt a thud as a Sky adjusted herself and laid her head on my chest.
"Greedy lizard," I muttered as I closed my eyes.
Fortunately, no dreams came that night.Chapter Thirteen: Time Flies When You are Useless
In the aftermath of Daemon's…hmm, well I would say misadventure but I had to give some grudging amount of respect, after all to disrespect a severe threat to your own existence is not the smartest move in the book. Like at all.
Getting off subject, anyway after that whole thing. The court resumed its typical denial of existence and the tension that defined its existence. Rhaenyra pretended the whole night had not happened and Alicent made snide remarks as she was able whenever she could sneak them past Viserys. Not terribly difficult given that he dealt with his disappointment with Daemon by redoubling on his feasts.
As for me well I was the talk of the town so to speak. It was easy to dismiss servants talking about the queerness of the prince and no one in the family or inner circle kept their opinions from escaping the walls of the Keep. A dragon though? It is pretty damned hard to hide a dragon.
I was getting a fairly excellent reaction all things considered from what I heard, words of praise for the daring young prince who at the tender age of four achieved the near unheard-of feat of taming a dragon at the age of four. At least that is what the lickspittles frantically rushed to say whenever I came up, now if I had any indication that they said this for any possible reason other than sucking up to my current parents. In private they were probably somewhere between disdainful and ambivalent to what the third in line is up to. Yay for medieval reasoning!
It also allowed me to focus on adjusting my little partner with the castle pretty well, it was not terribly uncommon for hatchlings and extremely young dragons to be allowed to stay in the company of their future riders after all. Granted this usually meant that the child in question would spend some time in the pit but Sky's calm nature and more importantly the lack of anyone being willing to pry her from me meant that the little dragon was never more than a meter or two away from me. I preferred it that way as it allowed me to follow through with my current objective, copy Gaema and Qelos to the best of my ability because she had yet to be roasted in my dreams.
Interestingly the party most irate with my new companion were the nannies, they were understandably cautious at the intrusion of the young dragon on their turf. For her part Sky defaulted to what seemed to be her default 'lol, you think that you matter, that's so cute!' stance towards everything. I had to be cautious there, I needed to socialize Sky quickly enough to prevent my dear post of 'sweet little prince who we won't suffocate in his sleep' from vanishing. Having a dragon is nice and all but servants that wont kill in your sleep have their good points to.
Sadly, it seemed that I was not so lucky in avoiding attention from the family and their minions. As useful as Bulwer was I could not say the same about the 'subordinates' he had been assigned by Alicent. I could understand mother being somewhat unwilling to let me out of her sights all things considered but I had little need for more hernias in my life.
It was not even just her, Rhaenyra seemed quite eager to solidify her base with me after her little error. I guess that Daemon must have been one of the things that put into full political mode and she logically reacted poorly to support from her faction getting shaken from the rumors that were making the rounds. It was truly mysterious where those rumors were coming from… it was Mother, it was always Mother. In any case I actually saw her less than I used to given that she had fallen straight into damage control mode and now spent the vast bulk of her time trying to sway courtiers and mustering every ounce of support she could manage. Unfortunately for me it meant that she spent every moment of her supposed 'dragon lessons' trying her damnedest to make sure that I was aware that she loved me a great deal and reaffirming that I should not believe whatever lies I heard around the castle. I could hardly fault her given that getting slut-shamed was bad in the first place but infinitely more savage in Westeros. I am not proud of the fact that I exploited the situation as best I could to score points with her by reassuring her that I knew that the whole thing with her, Daemon and Laena was just a 'misunderstanding.' The upshot was watching Ser Cole follow her around with what I imagined to be balls so blue that he might be turning into an Other.
Speaking of the young lady of High Tide, she had obediently come to King's Landing as commanded and had made her best efforts to camouflage in with the furniture (truly a shame that we did not have much more than red and black decoration nor did she have much color diversity in her own wardrobe) while swallowing down the various rumors. I felt some pity for her, being suckered into a bad choice by an older and admittedly dashing man was a common and tragic occurrence for Westerosi maidens and unfortunately it was hard to wash that particular stain out. I really wished that the poor thing did not have to get dragged into the flame-war but I'd gladly throw her under the bus to keep the flame-war from becoming literal. Sorry Laena.
It was about two months into her stay in the Red Keep that her mother came to collect her, she did not come alone.
…
He was striking as he strolled confidently into the throne room. Tall and powerfully built with dark skin heavily worked by countless days under the sun at sea until it became leathery under which was layers of hard-earned muscle. His silver-white hair was cut to his ears but against his darkened skin and sharp blue eyes it only served to accentuate his proud features. Those features were of the Valyrian look but also different than those I had seen before, these were fine features that carried undoubtable strength and dignity to match its regal nature. His cloak was long sea green to match his breeches and his white doublet emblazon with a seahorse and his tall, black boots.
I had to admit that I was not usually into men but sweet Christ, forget the Seasnake. House Florent should just be put to the sword so that Corlys Velaryon could claim his rightful title as the 'Silver Fox'.
…I really hoped that I was only imagining having licked my lips as the Velaryon patriarch entered the room. I had never seen a man nearing his sixtieth year seem so vital and full of strength… I had better move my eyes before I react more excessively. Given that my eyes drifted his wife I regretfully had little success.
Rhaenys as usual had it and liked to flaunt it, in as much as her disturbingly blingy light blue dress would allow her. Curse you Westeros and your lack of short cut dresses! Curse you!!! What cruelties you inflict on man!
I must have been visibly drooling because I could swear that I got a wink, from both of them, or was that wishful thinking? I am in a very confused place right now.
Laenor was also there… he was a thing. Not a good thing. He seemed like a platinum edition of show-Renly, which was to say entirely too soft looking which if you ask me was not a particularly bright move given his rather shitty situation. This was arguably the worst place ever conceived of to be gay and it would not exactly be to his benefit to not try and be the most testosterone fueled knight he could. Honestly book Renly had been bright enough to go for the knighthood and not be overly overt about it, Laenor was just asking for gossip if he was anywhere near as bad in this timeline as the books. Why did that bother me? I had had gay relatives in my past lives and we had been close. Shouldn't I be feeling more sympathy? Amusement maybe? For some reason all that I really focused on about the guy was his seeming inadequacy by virtually every dimension save physical beauty.
The it struck me, he was a selfish prick in the original timeline from what the sources claimed. He had been grossly unsubtle, put in even less effort into hiding it than the minimal efforts of Rhaenyra and perhaps most grating, he was the sort of guy who would abandon you the second some younger and prettier boy would show up. A guy like that would never be good enough for Rhaenyra!
…Wait what? Why the hell did I care about that now? I shook my head to rid myself of the thought while the little dragon snorted a puff of smoke from the head that lay on my lap.
Hmm, so that is all the actors from House Velaryon that I was familiar with among the huge ass party they had with them.
By the time I had finished my evaluation of the old, the proud and the questionable they had already arrived at the foot of the scrapheap referred to as the Iron Throne and Corlys was mostly done his greeting.
"-and I must clearly express my utmost gratitude for your majesty's most generous care of my daughter after offering her welcome to your most regal company," holy crap he was smooth.
"It is of course a great pleasure to us and our exquisite court to have the notable beauty of the young maiden of Velaryon under our care," The King said while nodding at the so-called 'maiden' in the gallery.
From the slight glower in Corlys's eyes as he locked eyes on his daughter I could tell tha the court had been severely mistaken when they had assumed that Rhaenys would hide what occurred from her husband. I found it ironic that she was uninclined to keep secrets given Corlys's own dirty little secrets at Hull. I did not want to be Daemon at that moment.
"I am most glad to hear that my beloved daughter has done so fine an effort of representing house Velaryon," he smiled deeply. Given that Laena looked progressively paler as her father went on I would wager that his words were code for, 'they are going to need a new word for the amount of dead you are'.
…
Unsurprisingly the Velaryons did not tarry at court for long before leaving for their beloved isle (which was near to boasting a new city if the charter could be secured and it didn't get obliterated this time around). As cool and attractive as the parents were, I was glad to see them leave. Their children were problems waiting to happen after all and I liked problems at a very great distance from my person when I had any choice.
Unfortunately, it was not long after they left that two notable figures left this world. Both to my detriment.
The first was Harold Westerling. I felt bad for the extremely generic older knight, he had struck me as a good man from the few times I had seen him standing as if he wanted to be a decorative suit of plate when he grew up. By the standards of the time he did not die that poorly. For a man in his sixties to go down cutting his way through a small bandit ambush on his return from visiting his brother was an irregularly impressive way for a knight past his prime to die. I could not help but wonder if his way of death was better or worse than the otl, it could very well have been unchanged since the man was never spared much attention in the Rogue Prince since he had lived a staunchly apolitical life.
His replacement was of course Sir Cole. Sadly, when he was christened by the court Septon as was tradition he failed to start screaming in pain before exploding when the holy oils made contact with his skin. That had been a shame really.
Ser Bulwer for his part grunted in annoyance as the new seventh was also anointed, the man seemed to dislike the king's guard institution I general for some reason. Perhaps he was annoyed that he did not rate a place among them? I shook my head, Bulwer had his flaws but he was notably not very prone to envy.
The second death of the year hit my much harder to be frank.
…
"Is there nothing that can be done?" I asked the junior maester which had been brought in to oversee the ailing Grand Maester.
"No my princ-," The young novice was silenced when Sky growled in annoyance at his uselessness.
I glared at the youth, "You have a silver link do you not? Fix him immediately!"
Why the hell did I say that? I knew that this would not be reparable in my own world much less this one.
"Enough my boy," Runciter weakly raised hand to pat my head. "If you would take a last lesson from an old man, for all that we know of the body, death comes for us in the end."
"I understand that," I growled. Jesus this was too familiar by half, "But I need you here."
"Do not be silly Gaemon," infirmity had blunted the engrained court etiquette in the old maester. "You have not truly needed me since the day you were born."
The old man chuckled sadly at my puzzled impression, "There are many things not quite right with you my boy, it does not take an old man to see that. But you have a good heart, see that you keep it."
"I-I will," I answer with a sad smile of my own. "I will try my best."
That got me a thin and worn smile, "Then one last promise."
"What is it Runciter?" Shit I hated when it started raining indoors.
"Be sure to finish the book," he coughed before continuing, "I thought that it was coming along rathe nicely."
"I will, I can promise you that much!" That much I can do, if I can't get that done at the very least then I could not do anything.
"I am glad," the man who had been somewhere between a mentor and grandfather for me said weakly before sleep claimed him.
That had been the last time that I had been able to speak to him, he never woke up again. We burned him on a pyre not long after, a request of his. Hardly surprising given his love of Valyria.
It left me feeling strangely hollow to watch the kindly old man be reduced to naught but ash. I patted Sky as I watched the fire long after everyone else save for Bulwer and his 'aides' had left.
I strayed until the fire had burned out and nothing remained but bone and ash. I pulled myself up then.
"I'm going to miss you, Runciter," I muttered to myself before turning to leave. The closest thing to a true friend I had in this world was gone, that was hard to cope with when everyone looks ready to stab you.
I let myself go a bit in grief, I stayed quiet and miserable in my room until the new Grand Maester came.
I did not know what I had been expecting of Moros but I had to admit that he turned out to be a great motivator. He was such a useless, humorless and gluttonous leech that I threw myself back into my efforts to preserve Runciter's legacy from the filthy hands of that slob. Honestly it did not add to my impression of the man that the 'fish' comment did not seem to be an isolated incident, I grew to loathe my lessons with the man since he was rarely capable of covering a subject without a racist, misogynist or political comment sneaking in there that had no place in the lesson. It made it hard to get used to the old maester's passing.
Still time heals a lot and gives you time to grow and adjust.
For one and a half years I did just that. I worked hard and did my best to keep the aggression at court to a minimum. At least I wish that was what I did, given my age the best I could pull off was my continued efforts to try and avoid being on anyone's list of 'people I want to feed to a dragon.'
That being said I was also working on my much more practical method to avoid getting eaten which was of course training my dear Sky as best I could and I replicated every damned ritual which Gaema had been subjected to. I understood well enough that any sort of magic on planetos was half pointless mumbo-jumbo but the other half was sometimes tied to needlessly complicated spell-work. I did not want to miss some crucial step and regret it later. I firmly doubted that I would have success in my plot to wait for some thrusters and glue to fall from the sky so that I could glue them to sky once she was big enough and launch myself into the horizon.
Those were my successful more promising and successful projects of the past years, some of my other attempts had ended rather poorly.
Project: 'Get Aeg in Shape," had been on rocky footing ever since Aeg discovered Sweetmeats and proven that he had about as much restraint as a Wolverine on Meph. We still got along and I still made him make at least token efforts at exercise but I could already see that we would have more than our increasingly obvious fraternal nature to tell us apart.
Project: 'Increase Familial Bonds' was also going incredibly bad. Helaena was terrified of me, no sooner did she start to get awareness than I could not be in the same room without her beginning to cry. Which when coupled with the fact that Aemond was already showing signs of being a vicious little beast did not make it seem like I could count on having more siblings on my side than Aeg. Oh god I was relying on Aegon.
In even more dire straits was my preliminary efforts at Project: 'Learn How to Fight' or as I had been forced to redub it Project: 'Can I at Least not Get My Ass Kicked?' because it was failing miserably. The basic exercises were simple enough but the few times Bulwer could be convinced to spar with me I got destroyed within one or two movements. I had reached the point that I would be content to eventually learn the art of being able to handle an already injured and elderly peasant levy.
Needless to say this all kept me rather busy, busy enough that it was not until Rhaenyra's sixteenth birthday that I remembered that 113AC to 114AC was going to suck. Not in and off themselves so much as the fact that if I let Rhaenyra's nuptials proceed as in otl then things would get messy. At least I was six now, that's a little better, right? A much stronger position to hold sway over court politics!
Oh who am I kidding? this is going suck.