Dragonstone Island lay in the Narrow Sea, guarding all the sea lanes beyond King's Landing.
The entire island seemed black.
And Dragonstone Castle sat atop the highest cliff of the island.
It was no castle that mortals could build.
At the height of the Valyrian Empire, it had been constructed using black stone techniques, serving as a staging ground for an invasion of Westeros.
The walls were of black stone, the towers of black stone, seamless and smooth, cold to the touch.
After the apocalypse, such craftsmanship had vanished.
Carved dragons crawled along the castle—raising heads or spreading wings.
They were frozen in the stone, teeth bared, claws extended.
Only one road led up the mountain—the Dragon's Spine.
A narrow pass cut into the rock, wide enough for only two to traverse at a time and reach the castle.
Beside the narrow path, the void dropped straight down for a thousand feet, the reef below jagged like fangs.
Beneath the castle, a path led to a dragon's lair near a crater.
These were dragons that had not yet found their riders, and their lairs lay hidden within the dragon's den.
The council hall of Dragonstone was heavy with solemnity.
The throne was of black stone, unyielding, and upon it sat Phaenyra Targaryen. Her crimson dress, threaded with gold, bore the sigil of her house.
Phaenyra regarded the two men in the hall—Daemon and Lord Corlys, who had come to the meeting.
"Over four thousand men," she said.
"The city garrison changed its banner overnight."
"And the Red Keep guard has long been a dog of the Greens."
"Now, the entirety of King's Landing, along with the royal lands, is in Alicent's hands."
"In the hands of her son, Aemond," Corlys interjected.
Phaenyra froze, her throat tightening.
"My father… he has been placed under house arrest in Meereen. All state affairs are in her hands."
Phaenyra closed her eyes in helplessness.
"The Greens have allied with Rys Rogar, and once war begins, the Tri-City Alliance will surely join the fight."
"At that moment, we will be attacked from both sides and from the rear."
Daemon Targaryen leaned against the black wall, a faint smile playing at his lips.
"Do not be so pessimistic, Phaenyra."
Phaenyra shook her head.
"Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey… all their dragons are confined in King's Landing's dragon lair."
She turned to Corlys Velaryon.
"Lord Corlys, speak the truth."
"Now we have only three dragonriders. How can we win this battle?"
Corlys frowned.
"I do not know how to win, Princess."
"But I know that if you do not fight, you will die."
Corlys felt the weight of Aemond's hostility.
Now Velaryon could only help Princess Phaenyra.
If this war were lost, the Velaryon legacy would likely be destroyed by their own hands.
Phaenyra rose, her long skirt gliding across the floor.
"Now we cannot oppose the Greens.
Except for my vassals, no noble dares openly shelter with us.
They fear angering the Greens."
"My good brother Aemond…
When he is in a foul mood, he will hang us all on the walls of the Red Keep!"
She sighed.
"I am going to write to Alicent."
Daemon straightened.
"What?"
Phaenyra was weary.
"I said I no longer wish to fight.
I will renounce my claim to the Iron Throne and keep only Dragonstone.
Let her grant me peace.
Even if it is a humiliating peace."
Corlys's Adam's apple moved, wanting to speak, to persuade the now-pessimistic Phaenyra.
Daemon stepped toward Phaenyra.
"Phaenyra, look at me."
She lifted her eyes.
"If we surrender,
we hand our lives—yours, mine, and our children's—into the hands of the Greens.
All who are loyal to you will also turn away, seeing your weakness."
He stepped closer.
"Do you think this is a game you can simply walk away from?"
Phaenyra's body shivered at his words.
Daemon held her trembling hand.
"But I have a way."
He turned, pressing his palm to the dragon relief carved into the stone wall behind the Black Stone Throne.
A mechanism clicked, and a secret door silently swung open.
"We have another way," Daemon said, turning to the side.
"Please, enter, my honored guest."
A woman emerged from the hidden door.
She appeared to be around thirty. Silver hair fell to her waist like a waterfall woven from moonlight, small black pearls woven through it.
Her skin was pale as snow, her indigo eyes bottomless.
A white mantle with black trim, gold embroidery, a high collar, and a sweeping train that did not hinder her movement.
She bowed gracefully.
"Allow me to introduce myself." Her voice had a unique cadence from the Narrow Sea's eastern coast.
"I am Eluna Vhassar, of the Black Wall of Valantis, one of the three rulers of the Bloodline Council."
Corlys rose, eyes wary of Daemon.
"Valantis?!"
Daemon smiled.
"Since the Greens dare ally with the Tri-City Alliance, we will be attacked on both sides…
Why then maintain the old rule of no dealings with Valantis?"
Daemon looked at Phaenyra.
"Do you wish to sit here and wait pessimistically?
Waiting until Aemond mounts his dragon and brings his army to surround Dragonstone in an iron siege?"
Eluna continued:
"Princess Phaenyra, Lord Corlys, let us be frank. You are thinking of how to win a civil war in Westeros.
What we see in Valantis is a unique opportunity.
An opportunity to restore the Freehold Empire of the Valyrians."
"Freehold Empire," the word thundered in the stone hall.
Eluna's voice lowered, distant.
"Hundreds of years ago, the Fourteen Fire Peaks devoured our homeland.
The surviving dragonlords wandered far and wide, but were slain by Cohor, Norvos, Rys… torn apart by slave and servant uprisings.
Only we, Valantis, preserved the blood of Old Valyria, its classics, and its laws within the Black Wall."
"Though we lack the bloodline to command dragons or the methods to tame them,
we have been orthodox inheritors of the Freehold."
Eluna's eyes blazed fanatically.
"A hundred years ago, in the Bloody Century, we came close to success.
Our army advanced through disputed lands; Rys and Meereen fell one by one, and Tyrosh crumbled.
At that time, we sent envoys to Dragonstone to request aid from the Targaryens."
Her smile turned cold.
"We promised that if Aegon joined us with a dragon, our council would sit alongside the Targaryen lords.
But your ancestor Aegon refused, instead joining these city-states to burn our legions to ashes in the 'Black Death.'"
The stone hall was silent, save for the sound of breathing.
"But that is past," Eluna exhaled deeply.
"Now the opportunity arises again.
We, Valantis, still command the largest army on the Eastern Continent.
Our treasury overflows with gold, our docks operate day and night."
She looked directly at Phaenyra.
"Princess, you need an army.
We need a dragon to unite the Eastern Continent, which will serve both our interests."
After a long pause, Phaenyra spoke:
"Tell me of your plan."
"Short-term: an alliance," Eluna raised a finger.
"The Valantis fleet joins the fleet of Tidalhead Island to raid the Rys fleet.
At the same time, Prince Daemon, you, and Lady Phaenyra, with the three-headed dragon, raid the fleet moored at Tyrosh.
Then, the Valantis army will strike the disputed lands in full order.
Rys and Tyrosh lose their fleet and cannot cross the sea to support Myr.
Then we take Myr, and from there the fleet moves straight to Rys."
Corlys's eyes lit up, striking first…
The Tri-City Alliance would never expect Valantis to unite with them.
"Mid-term," Eluna raised a second finger,
"Restore the Empire. After the Tri-City Alliance collapses, we will reclaim the three cities to revive Valyrian orthodoxy.
During this time, the Targaryens will serve as nominal supreme rulers.
All daily governance falls to our council."
"Supreme ruler?" Phaenyra asked sharply.
Eluna smiled, raising a third finger.
"You and your heir will receive the title of Emperor of Valyria.
We follow the ancient system, with administration, taxation, and laws discussed by the Dragon King and the council."
Phaenyra felt a wave of dizziness.
"And Westeros?"
"The future target of conquest," Eluna said evenly.
"Governance entrusted to those you trust.
The united Valyrian Empire will stretch from the Sunset Sea to the Shadow of Yi Ti."