King's Landing ― Grand Sept…
It has been more than eight weeks since the honeymoon phase ended, but each new beginning began with more surprises. Now, Aeonar and Rhaenyra were never the religious types. But the Grand Sept was one of the only locations in the capital outside the Red Keep that was silent enough to offer solitude. At Alicent's request, both Targaryen royals agreed to meet her by the altar. It felt different being back here when Aeonar and Alicent got married here. Yet she was right. This evening's prayer offered much silence and time for contemplation while the septas tended to the Faith of the Seven's teachings and septs led the evening prayer. Surrounded by statues of the Seven aspects symbolizing parts of life and prayed to for different purposes: the Father, the Mother, the Maiden, the Crone, the Warrior, the Smith, and the Stranger. The altar before them, lit with candles, had dried wax that melted onto the top.
"Never took you for a religious one," Rhaenyra chimed.
"I'm not," Aeonar denied.
"Still… it's hard to believe it's been only half a year since our mother died."
"I know. I still miss her… every day."
Alicent stood reassuringly. "It's only natural for the two of you to feel this way," she said. "But let's not dwell on such things, shall we? I figured that with all the politicking and the… stress from each small council session, you two would like to come to join me in prayer to relieve your burdens."
"But why?" Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow. "I just know those men plot and scheme in their secret councils when I'm not looking."
"It's all part of the great game, Rhaenyra. Governing is taxing, to the point of being unbearable, but it is what it is," Aeonar explained. "If you wish to become a competent and capable ruler, you must embrace a larger view of the world and expand your horizons rather than rely on the narrow, dogmatic views of lesser men."
"Pfff! 'Dogmatic views of lesser men.' Sounds like you hate it just as much as I do."
"Rhaenyra, Aeonar," Alicent interjected. "You cannot worry about the matters of lords and kings." She leaned down to pick up a fresh batch of candles from one of the nearby benches. "Besides, what if your father were to remarry? Does it bother you?"
"We've already discussed it at length," Aeonar mentioned.
"Father has already agreed to spend time with Laena Velaryon. Get to know her better… and hopefully wait until she is mature enough to marry," Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. "Still… it doesn't make replacing our mother any better."
"No one can ever replace our mother. Not in this life or the next."
"You know your father loves you both," Alicent replied. "You know he'd choose you two over anyone else." Grasping one of the thin extensions, she lights two more candles before blowing on the extension to put out the burning tip. Alicent then kneels and places both her hands together underneath her chin to begin the prayer.
Aeonar nearly scoffed. He has an odd way of showing it.
"Come. Kneel with me. Both of you. It will do you good. I promise."
Aeonar and Rhaenyra both looked at Alicent unexpectedly. Though silent, both merely approached her before separating. Rhaenyra knelt to Alicent's left, while Aeonar knelt to her right. Taking both their hands in each of hers, Alicent gave a reassuring squeeze to let them know everything was going to be all right.
"I find this is a way to be with my mother. Here in the quiet of the Sept, I feel close to her."
"I remember her," Aeonar recalled. "She was always good to us." Though it is a great shame she did not live long enough to see her daughter wed. You would have been so proud of her, Lady Evelyne. The woman Alicent's grown up to be.
Alicent sighed. "I know it sounds foolish, but…"
Rhaenyra shook her head. "No," she rebuffed. "No, I don't believe it's foolish. Rather I think it's something I can relate to." The princess stared into the lit candles. "But I wouldn't be certain how to honor her memory when the pain of her loss still lingers. And believe me, I've tried to come up with multiple ways, but nothing seemed to work."
"Being with the people you love is sometimes more than enough to mend a wounded heart." Alicent gave Rhaenyra's hand a gentle squeeze. "Even though my mother's long gone, I still have my father, my brother Gwayne… and now, I have you and Aeonar. That alone gives me more than enough conviction to persevere and keep going. Nothing is ever easy, but you're never alone." She nodded. "Why don't you give it a try with me? If not for me, then, perhaps for our mothers."
"But what do I say?"
"Whatever you wish." Alicent traded glances between Rhaenyra and Aeonar. "It's only for us and the gods to know." She closed her eyes. "Let us pray. 'O Father Above, we pray to you on this day of mourning. We pray that you guide the souls of the dearly departed to the loving embrace of the Seven aspects and judge our dearly beloved with fairness and understanding."
Aeonar lowered his head. "Īlon epagon se Kepa naejot jemagon se gīs hen sȳndror ezīmagon ōños. (We ask the Father to lead the souls out of darkness into light.)" He prayed in High Valyrian. "Īlon epagon se Cróne naejot urnēptre īlva se geron istiti piktan, se gaomagon daor ivestragī īlva slip isse se zōbrie dīnagon bona pirtir naejot. (We ask the Crone to show us the path we must walk, and do not let us stumble in the dark places that lie ahead.)"
"Gentle Mother, She who gives the gift of life and watches over every wife, we seek Her gentle smile to end all strife and Her love for all Her little children. We ask the Maiden to keep our innocents safe, protect our virtue, and bring smiles to our children."
"Īlon epagon se Sētekio, Ziry qilōni tepagon īlva lēda se hezīmza naejot gaomagon īlva ninkion, naejot mazverdagon se tepagon īlva se kustikāne naejot gaomagon mazverdāre. (We ask the Smith, He who provides us with the tools to care for our fields, to build and give us the strength to keep growing.)" Aeonar sighed. "Se īlon epagon se Azantys, Ziry qilōni tepagon īlva nēdenkā, naejot jehikagon Zȳhon egros se tepagon īlva se kustikāne naejot mīsagon lī īlon kivio naejot mīsagon spryjatan mirre qilōni jorarghugon ōdrikagon zirȳ. (And we ask the Warrior, He who gives us courage, grant us the strength to protect those we swore to protect against any who seek to harm them.)"
"Amen."
"Amen."
Rhaenyra, though not a pious princess nor religious in general, could not help but ponder the prayers both Alicent and Aeonar recited before the Seven gods. She could not say anything and yet could not find the exact words to give a proper prayer. For a moment, Rhaenyra had vague memories of her late mother flash before her eyes. Queen Aemma… she missed her very much. The princess remained silent before she felt her eyes watering. Sniffling silently, Rhaenyra wiped her eyes. "I miss her so much," her voice cracked.
Alicent's face saddened and massaged her sister-in-law's arm gently.
"I'd give anything to see her again or hear her voice one more time."
"Rhaenyra," Aeonar said. And here I thought my grief was bad. She must have been holding it in for a long time.
"No, no. I… I'll be fine." Rhaenyra composed herself. "Guess I didn't have any time to properly grieve. It's not healthy, I know. But at least I can make an effort now." She turned to put on a smile to Aeonar and Alicent. "Besides, I've got my brother and sister-in-law by my side. What else can I ask for?"
Alicent embraced Rhaenyra, who reciprocated the act of affection. Aeonar, meanwhile, rose to his feet before gazing upon each of the statues depicting the Seven gods. He often contemplated if the gods were listening to their prayers or at least noticed them at all. The Faith of the Seven, though the dominant religion in southern Westeros, was still somehow foreign to certain members of House Targaryen despite converting to the Faith's teachings during Aegon's conquest more than a century ago. The septs claim the gods can be merciful, but other instances showed the gods can be cruel too.
Before the rest could gather their bearings, Alicent felt nauseous and quickly brought a hand up to her mouth. She let out a muffled 'umph' and stumbled slightly.
"A-Alicent?" Rhaenyra caught her. "Are you all right?"
Aeonar turned to see that. "What happened?" he inquired. The Prince of Dragonstone walked over and moved a hand to brush a strand of her brown hair, but he noticed the subtle shift in her posture. "You're trembling," he noticed. Something is not right. "What's going on?"
Alicent took a moment to regain her balance and inhaled, exhaling slowly.
"Alicent, were you ill this whole time?" Rhaenyra inquired. I have never seen her like this before. She is always just so healthy.
"No," Alicent shook her head. "Well… not the way you'd normally think. I was… hoping to surprise you with it later, but…" she turned to Aeonar and Rhaenyra. "I'm… I'm pregnant."
Aeonar is stunned. Speechless. This sudden announcement was a lot to take in. Alicent Hightower, his princess consort… is pregnant with their first child? He thinks through all the ramifications of this. And the dreams he has had… What if they were somehow related? No, no it could not be. He had already convinced himself that scenario would not happen; that they would have their own family to raise. Aeonar's world seemed to spin, and he remained silent for the longest time.
"Wait," Rhaenyra's mind finally clicked. "You're... pregnant? Really? You are pregnant?"
"Yes," Alicent nodded.
"H-How far along are you?"
"The Grand Maester told me I haven't bled in almost four weeks now. I mean, I feel tired, my breasts hurt, the smell of certain food makes me nauseous, everything."
"By the… Fuck! Alicent!" Rhaenyra could barely contain her excitement.
"R-Rhaenyra!" Alicent shrieked before laughing as her sister-in-law squeezed her. "Easy, easy! Don't break me in half before I'm due!"
"Sorry. So, you think it is going to be a boy? Or a girl? Have you picked a name yet?"
"No, I haven't thought that far yet."
"Well, if it's a girl how about naming her Visenya?"
"Absolutely not!"
Rhaenyra cheekily turned to her brother. "Well, Aeonar?" she teased. "You're going to be a father now. What is the matter? Cat got your tongue? Are you so surprised that you have no words to describe how excited you are?"
Alicent turned to Aeonar, hoping, and silently pleading for a response.
"I…" Aeonar sputtered. He noticed the way his consort was looking at him. "Well, that… that's wonderful," he finally answered. "Does… anyone else besides us know?"
"No," Alicent shook her head. "You two are the first ones to know." She took one of Aeonar's hands and held it over her belly. "I wanted to surprise you in a more proper setting, though I guess the child you planted inside of me had other ideas. But yes, Aeonar, you're going to be a father." She smiled. "We… we're going to have our own family. You, me, and our little one."
"Well, I guess we'd best start thinking of a few names for the baby while we still have time."
"I can ask the servants to arrange the baby's room," Rhaenyra offered.
"Thank you, Rhaenyra," Alicent said appreciatively.
Well, this was unexpected, to say the least. Aeonar leaned against one of the Faith's statues, watching Alicent and Rhaenyra getting excited at the prospect of a new Targaryen being born. It was almost heartwarming to watch their bond growing ever so stronger with Alicent announcing her pregnancy. Once the realm heard the news, there would be a mass celebration for the Prince of Dragonstone's heir… but assuming the gender of the unborn child before it is conceived was rather presumptuous. What if it was a boy? Or a girl? No, it does not matter. Whatever gender the child is, Aeonar and Alicent would ensure their children would be raised fairly and without bias. Mother… how I wish you were still with us. To see your first grandchild. He then glanced through one of the painted windows, watching the sunlight bringing different shades of color into the Grand Sept. But how will father take the news?
Red Keep ― Small Council chambers…
Lord Lyonel Strong, the Master of Laws and Lord Justiciar, sat in his chair within the small council chambers. His role was advising the king on legal matters, managing the dungeons, and supervising the King's Justice. But when he received word that Viserys wanted to speak to him, Lyonel was puzzled. Normally the king would turn to his Hand for advice, so why come to him instead? When he saw Viserys finally arriving, Lyonel rose to greet him.
"No, please, Lord Lyonel," Viserys dismissed, motioning him to remain seated.
Lyonel bowed and sat back down.
"I have been looking for an unencumbered opinion."
"That's all I would ever give, Your Grace," Lyonel replied.
Viserys pondered. "Ever since my name was read by the archmaesters at the Great Council, I have felt Corlys Velaryon's envious gaze staring at me from across the Blackwater," he confessed.
He is ambitious, yes. Prideful. But I can tell where this discussion is going. "You sit upon the highest seat in the realm, Your Grace. Proud men don't like having to look up."
"My son proposes I wed Lord Corlys's daughter, Laena Velaryon. He said it would not only mend the rift between our two houses but could reassure the crown's sincerity to Driftmark going forward."
"A bold, yet calculating strategic maneuver, Your Grace," Lyonel was surprised. He then thought about the potential benefits of an arranged match. "Lord Corlys is your Master of Ships and Lord Admiral, she is the eldest daughter of the wealthiest house in the realm. She comes from unimpeachable Valyrian stock, and she has Targaryen blood. What's to dislike?"
"She's 12," Viserys blurted, signifying his discomfort.
"Yes, but she will mature as children do. It doesn't have to take place immediately, of course, though once Lady Laena has grown into adolescence then it would be deemed more appropriate."
Ah, so you have spoken to Aeonar about it as well. Makes sense for my own Master of Laws to do such a thing. Viserys shrugged and shook his head. "I never asked to remarry," he said with a hint of frustration in his voice. "Seven hells, it's been six months since I lost Aemma, and for that my only son and heir blamed me for all of it. Finally, after I believed we were making serious progress in reconciling, now this gets dropped on me."
"As king, you have a claim on all things. Even things you don't want," Lyonel advised. "Marriage is not an obligation you can put off for long."
"What if I was to reject Lord Corlys's proposal?"
Lyonel shook his head. "He would not take it well. I fear nothing short of a direct line to the Iron Throne would satisfy him." It was obvious he was against angering Lord Corlys, nor was he opposed to the king. "You should also consider that we find ourselves on the precipice of war in the Stepstones. And the Sea Snake holds claim to nearly half the realm's ships." Although Lyonel does acknowledge Viserys's discomfort at the thought of marrying a child, he agrees with the plan to strengthen an alliance with House Velaryon to temper Corlys's bitterness over the Great Council's decision, unify the last descendants of Valyria, and ensure the crown has access to the Velaryon fleet should the situation in the Stepstones deteriorate into open war.
Viserys seemed visibly incensed at the potential reaction from Corlys if the match was rejected. "He would not dare withhold them in the face of the realm's need. Who is he to hector me?" he demanded.
"No one, Your Grace. But Driftmark makes for a better ally than it does an enemy. The Sea Snake has made a calculated reach, a fair play for a man of his position. But if you genuinely want my unencumbered opinion…"
"I do."
Lyonel exhaled. "You should wed Laena Velaryon, Your Grace," he advised. "Sate Lord Corlys and fix him at your side, permanently, as an ally."
Viserys shook his head and sat back down. Great. First Aeonar, now Lord Lyonel is suggesting a marry a child. Seven hells, what am I to make of this? The king massaged his temples. It was a stressful day for him. Corlys Velaryon, Lyonel Strong, even his children… all of them are united in proposing an arranged match between himself and the young Laena Velaryon. It was all becoming too much for him to bear. But… what if there was another? One with a direct line to royalty? Only the visual image of a certain, attractive young maiden drew his attention. Viserys shook his head again. He had the decision to make.
« You are the King, and so, your first duty is to the realm. Mother would have understood this. Just as I do. »
Ah, my children… if only it were that simple.
Red Keep ― Maegor's Holdfast…
Viserys stood by the window, listening to the gulls cawing, the sound of waves crashing against the shore, and observing the sight of the Dragonpit from a distance. For a week, the king had to decide on having a second wife. But he had finally come to a decision and called for his councilors to meet him in Maegor's Holdfast. Some within the king's inner circle expected the young Laena Velaryon, but the small council would be the first to hear the expected announcement. When he heard footsteps approaching, Viserys turned to see Ser Otto Hightower, Lord Corlys Velaryon, Grand Maester Mellos, Lord Lyman Beesbury, Lord Lyonel Strong, Prince Aeonar Targaryen, and Ser Harrold Westerling arriving. But what surprised him more was seeing Rhaenyra and Alicent with the others as well.
"Good morning, my lords." The king turned to his children. "My children." He redirected his attention toward his advisors. "After much thought and careful consideration, I have decided to take a new wife."
Aeonar folded his arms in anticipation; Corlys leaned slightly forward waiting for the response.
"Who?" Rhaenyra pressed.
Otto himself raised a brow, as he had been unaware that Viserys had decided already without consulting him first.
The fifth king of the Targaryen dynasty looked about the room, his eyes pausing on Lord Corlys and then on Rhaenyra, and finally on Aeonar. "After careful consideration and prayer, I have decided to marry… the Lady Beatrice of House Peake before spring's end."
As if on cue, Beatrice strolled from behind one of the central pillars and stood beside Viserys. Placing one arm around his, she acted as if she owned the place. "Nice to meet you, my lords," she played her part. "It's an honor to finally meet you all in person. But it is an even greater honor that His Grace chose me as his new queen. I hope we get along moving forward." Just as you planned, father.
The room suddenly became so silent and still, one could have heard a pin drop. The silence was broken by a visibly angry Corlys slamming his fist against the pillar. "This is an absurdity!" he spat with deep anger. "My house is Valyrian, the greatest power in the realm. How dare you insult us like this!"
"And I am your king," Viserys firmly reminded him.
Furious at this latest insult to his family, Corlys then stormed out of the room. Viserys expected such a response from the Lord of the Tides who now resigned from his post. But the king noticed the intense gaze Aeonar was giving him as well. It was the same when Aemma died, but he was composed… which felt worse. Rhaenyra and Alicent immediately felt the intensity growing and recognized that Aeonar was very pissed off yet again, worrying there might be no coming back from this. Whatever attempts at reconciliation were made, it was now shattered.
"You fucking idiot," Aeonar said coolly. He was deeply disappointed. "A ruler needs a good head and a true heart. Poor judgment is not an essential characteristic. If you truly believe that there would be no consequences because of your lack of foresight, then it's clear you have no further need of me as your heir." Picking up his badge of office, he threw it at Viserys's chest, bouncing off him before it shattered upon impact on the floor. "Consider this my resignation."
With that, Aeonar turned to leave as well. Then Rhaenyra, then Alicent. By then Viserys realized it all. Aeonar had had enough and was leaving to return to Dragonstone… permanently.
"Aeonar. Rhaenyra," Viserys tried calling out. "Aeonar! Rhaenyra!" he then took off pursuit.
King's Landing ― Docks…
Dragonkeepers were quick to saddle and harness Vaelor, at the command of their Prince. The Swiftrunner growled before turning his attention to his rider approaching. Instinctively, Vaelor sensed that Aeonar was angry and soon realized why because once he saw who was approaching from behind, the dragon hissed menacingly.
Aeonar had not even stopped in his quarters to collect any of his belongings. His face was dark with anger, servants, and courtiers, as if sensing the aura coming off him, stepped out of his way and averted their gaze. Both Alicent and Rhaenyra knew that in this state, Aeonar could not be swayed and would not become calm until he had removed himself as far from the city as possible. Because Corlys had already gotten a head start, he could see the Velaryon fleet disembarking and sailing to Driftmark.
Extend an olive branch, offer one concession after the other in the name of reconciliation, only to deceive me under false pretenses? How dare you… How. Fucking. DARE you! You have made a fool out of me… for the last time!
Viserys rushed to the bay as ships depart for Dragonstone as if desperate to try to change Aeonar's mind, but Vaelor stood between the king and his rider before letting out a loud, fierce roar.
"*ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAA!*"
Viserys stared up at the dragon ― it was as if staring at a miniature version of Balerion the Black Dread himself. But Vaelor was no ancient doddering dragon. Vaelor was still young, strong, and growing. So much like Aeonar.
"YOU were warned what failure would bring," Aeonar said coolly, looking down at Viserys and the assembly as he mounted Vaelor and strapped himself in, gripping the harness tightly in his hands. "I will tolerate your weakness no longer. You have disappointed me for the last time. I hope it was worth it… father."
Vaelor hissed and beat its wings before taking off with astonishing speeds. With the ships disembarking and sailing to Dragonstone, it was apparent that Aeonar's decision was final. Vaelor roared faintly in the distance and disappeared across the Blackwater Rush.
Viserys watched them leave… again.
"Good going, father," Rhaenyra turned to Viserys disappointingly. "You single-handedly drove him away again. How could you do such a thing? Twice!"
Viserys looked at his daughter, trying to find some words that he could say, something that would justify his decision to ignore the advice of his son and council. But no words would come forth. All he did was give Rhaenyra a pitiful look, the look of a dog that was being kicked to death.
The princess shook her head, the disappointment evident on her face as she turned and walked away. Leaving the King to stare off in the distance as Vaelor carried his son further and further away.
Red Keep ― Royal apartments…
Rhaenyra was still visibly upset and disgusted at the audacity her father just pulled. What was supposed to be a joyous occasion with Alicent's pregnancy and the prospect of becoming an aunt to her childhood best friend/sister-in-law's child was now utterly ruined by Viserys scorning her older brother again. The family was once again torn apart from within, and she might not see Aeonar again ― possibly not until their father dies.
But her thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock on her door.
"Go away!" Rhaenyra shouted angrily.
"Rhaenyra, it's me, Alicent," a feminine voice called out on the other side. "Can I come in?"
Rhaenyra immediately jumped and nearly sprinted towards the door, opening them to permit Alicent into her room. She wore fashionable regalia befitting a royal consort, the traditional red and black of House Targaryen with gold embroidery on her collar and a golden penchant with a bright ruby around her neck. Once gaining entry, Alicent and Rhaenyra embraced each other with an overwhelming sense of anguish. Aeonar was gone again. When they pulled away, it took a lot for them to regain their composure.
"I'm so sorry," Alicent immediately burst into apologies. "I didn't know. If I had known about it sooner, I―"
"No, no. Do not apologize. You did not do anything wrong," Rhaenyra adamantly shook her head. "If anything, I should―"
"No. You didn't do anything wrong either."
Rhaenyra then looked pissed. "That bitch," she referred to Beatrice. "I bet she did something to my father that drove us all apart. I know it! What could she hope to accomplish when we already have an heir? If it was solely to tear our family apart, then she succeeded. I swear, when I see her, I am going to―"
"Wait, Rhaenyra," Alicent tried to calm down. "If anything, it'll only make our case weaker and prove her supporters right." She massaged her shoulders. "I've had a look into her background for a bit. House Peake is another noble family from the Reach, just like mine and Lord Ryman's."
"What else do you know about them? The Peakes?"
"They've long claimed descent from Garth Greenhand, the first Gardener king of the Reach, through marriage. As a reward for driving out House Manderly, they were given their castle Dunstonbury aside from already possessing Whitegrove and Starpike. After House Gardener was wiped out in the Field of Fire, House Peake had no blood ties to their new liege lords the Tyrells, and thus had no reason to be favored. Lord Unwin's father was one of the lords at the Great Council who voted in favor of His Grace as the Old King's heir so many years ago."
She was right. It was a long time, but Rhaenyra had vague memories of the many lords and lords paramount who attended the Great Council at Harrenhal. But this new Lord of Starpike was an anomaly to her and if they were permitted to get this close to the royal family, then it was clear that they had planned to get close to regaining some of their past glory days of having ties to royalty. They were a threat.
"Have you spoken to the king yet?" Alicent inquired.
Rhaenyra shook her head. "No," she refused. "Why would I after everything that's happened?"
"That's… understandable."
"Why the sudden interest?"
Alicent lowered her head. "I'm afraid that… I must leave King's Landing for a while," she admitted.
"What? But why?" Rhaenyra beseeched.
"You are my best friend, Rhaenyra, a sister. Aeonar is your brother, but he is my husband… I know that despite everything, he is as angry as you are and I understand why, but there is still good in him. I know it. He told me months ago of the dangers befalling House Targaryen if one of its own falls further into darkness. That's why I must go to Dragonstone to save him."
"From what?"
"From himself. I-I know it sounds crazy, but I have to try."
They hold each other close and look at each other, as childhood best friends and sisters-in-law.
"Do you think it'll work out?" Rhaenyra inquired.
Alicent seemed hopeful. "I don't know, but I can't just give up on Aeonar like that. I love him too much to just abandon him when he needs help the most." She began to pull away. "I'll come to visit you whenever I can. I will even write letters so we can stay in touch. But you will always be my sister, Rhaenyra. I owe you both that much."
"Alicent?"
"Yes?"
"Take… take good care of my brother. Do you hear? For my stake."
"I will, Rhaenyra. I promise."
When Alicent turned to leave, Rhaenyra felt the gravity of the situation hit her all over again. If this was somewhere near the First and Second Quarrel of her great-grandparents, then it could very well be happening all over again in modern times. She had never felt so alone as she had now and turned away, but not before catching a glimpse of Beatrice staring at her from a distance. Those brown curls, her freckled cheeks, and that smug, pompous smirk aimed at her. Keep smiling at me, bitch. This is not over yet. You will rue the day when you chose to tear the House of the Dragon apart from the inside.
Driftmark ― High Tide…
Located west of Dragonstone and the largest island in Blackwater Bay, Driftmark was the ancestral seat of House Velaryon. It was a low-lying and fertile island, driftwood brought by the tides. Settlements on the island have included High Tide, the former Castle Driftmark, along with the towns of Hull and Spicetown, as well as possessing several shipyards for the Velaryon fleet. After concluding his extremely profitable Nine Voyages, Corlys Velaryon raised High Tide to replace Castle Driftmark, which was grim, damp and often flooded. He, therefore, moved both his family and the ancient Driftwood Throne to High Tide on the opposite side of the island.
Within High Tide, there was a collection of several trophies Corlys acquired during his voyages. Seated upon the Driftwood Throne, Corlys had company within the Hall of Nine. Still furious at being slighted over Viserys snubbing his daughter and his unwillingness to help with the threat of the Triarchy, he invited several guests to his hall to discuss his plans. "House Velaryon's origins reach back to Old Valyria. More ancient even than House Targaryen according to some texts," he said. "But unlike the Targaryens, we were no dragonlords. For centuries, my house had to scratch out an existence from the sea with grit and luck. When I ascended the Driftwood Throne, I knew what I wanted. So I went out and seized it." Corlys shook his head. "Unlike every other lord of the realm, I can say that I built my house's high seat with the strength of mine own back." He then turned to his first guest. "I've always thought of you and I as having been made from the same cloth."
Sitting across from him was Prince Daemon Targaryen, having returned to the Crownlands after being sent away again. Ever since the confrontation between him and his nephew at Dragonstone, he kept a low profile. But Daemon was growing weary about the Sea Snake's discussion of families. No, the Prince of the City was itching for a fight. "I wasn't aware you had a king for a brother," he replied out of boredom.
"We're both men who have had to cut our own way through the world. We've been passed over too often."
What is your point? "Did you call me to Driftmark to remind me of my low standing, Lord Corlys, or was there some other reason?"
"You've heard of the troubles in the Stepstones?" Corlys mentioned.
"Some Myrish prince is feeding Westerosi sailors to the crabs, yes I've heard," Daemon answered.
"For months, I have been petitioning the king to send my navy into the territory, but he's denied me."
"It was never my brother's strongest trait."
"What?"
"Being king." Daemon rose and stood next to the fireplace. Before long, he then redirected his attention toward the Sea Snake.
"The Crabfeeder is backed by powerful entities within the Free Cities who wish to see Westeros weakened. And the king's failures have allowed him to accumulate strength. If those shipping lanes fall, my house will be crippled. And I will not have Driftmark beggared while our king idles himself with feasts, balls, and tourneys."
"I will speak of my brother as I wish. You will not." Daemon chided. "But lately I've heard rumors of your fleet making significant gains, Lord Corlys. Ambushing Triarchy ships, hitting them where they are weakest and avoiding them where they are strong, minimizing the losses… How often I wondered how the Velaryon fleet was able to make a sudden turnaround against the Crabfeeder. You must have had some help."
Corlys nodded. "Waiting in the Stepstones is a chance for you to prove your worth to any who might yet doubt it. We are the realm's second sons, Daemon. Our worth is not given. It must be made." He then rose from the Driftwood Throne. "And with the help of our newest ally, I believe we can do more than make our worth. His intelligence reports are what helped me stop the Triarchy from progressing any further in the Stepstones. With your private army, we can drive them out of the Stepstones and take it for ourselves."
"Oh? Who is this ally you have convinced?" Daemon inquired.
Corlys motioned for his other guest to approach. It was dark, with the main hall illuminated by the fireplace's burning glow. Daemon turned to see who the Sea Snake was referring to and saw a hooded figure accompanied by thirty Lykirī Mēre assassins. When his hood was pulled back, Daemon smirked at the irony. How fate can have quite a sense of humor.
"Fire and blood," Aeonar recited the words of House Targaryen.