90 AC. Driftmark
The soft, filtered light of a Driftmark morning drifted lazily through the high, arched windows of the bedchamber, painting the spacious quarters of High Tide in pale shades of gold. A sea breeze, cool and damp, gently stirred the heavy curtains of thick, sea-green silk. Viserra Targaryen slowly opened her eyes, feeling the familiar chill on the other side of the massive bed. She turned her head and ran her palm across the smooth sheets of fine silk. Corlys was not beside her.
Viserra sighed softly, pushing herself up on her elbows. Her long, silver-gold hair tumbled across the pillows, tangling in the delicate lace of her nightshirt. She did not need to question the servants or search the castle for her husband to know where he was. In the two weeks that had passed since their wedding, she had come to learn his morning routine perfectly. Corlys always woke long before the first rays of the sun, while the rest of the island still slept. While Viserra was dreaming her final pre-dawn dreams, her husband was already heading to the castle courtyard or the sandy shore to spend long hours in grueling sword training. His discipline bordered on obsession, yet Viserra could not help but admit that this persistence showed in his every confident movement, in his bearing, and in the frightening ease with which he wielded the heavy battle blade.
She sat up, lowering her feet onto the soft woolen rug that warmed the cold stone floor. At that exact moment, the massive oak door of the bedchamber creaked subtly, and three maids slipped silently into the quarters. They carried heavy wooden hangers with dresses and woven baskets filled with fresh towels and pitchers of cool water and wine.
"Good morning, Princess," Mina said softly, sinking into a respectful curtsy. "Lord Corlys commanded that Your Grace should be left to wake on your own. We have prepared everything required for your morning routine. Which gown do you wish to choose today?"
Viserra rose from the bed, smoothing the hem of her nightshirt.
"Prepare the blue gown with the silver embroidery on the sleeves," she replied, heading toward the adjoining bath chamber. "And there is no need to follow me. I prefer to bathe without assistance."
The maids bowed, setting to work, while Viserra firmly closed the bath chamber door behind her. This room was one of the places in High Tide that astonished her the most. Unlike the Red Keep, where servants had to carry dozens of buckets of hot water up endless stairs by hand, things were designed differently here. Corlys had personally designed a system of copper pipes that brought hot water up from massive cauldrons in the cellars directly into the upper living quarters.
The large tub, set upon a white marble dais, quickly filled to the brim. Thick, warm steam rose from the water, scented with lavender and healing oils. Viserra slipped off her nightshirt and slowly sank into the pleasantly scalding water. She closed her eyes, letting the heat relax her muscles and wash away the lingering traces of the night's languor. She relished this solitude with her thoughts. In King's Landing, she was constantly surrounded by ladies-in-waiting, whispering gossips, and strict septas monitoring the princess's every step. Here at High Tide, for the first time in her life, she felt that she belonged to herself.
When Viserra emerged from the bath chamber wrapped in a wide towel, the maids had already laid out the gown on the settee. The thick blue silk matched the color of her eyes perfectly, and the silver threads woven into the shape of ocean waves on the cuffs emphasized her new status as the Lady of Driftmark. Mina and the two young attendants set to work. They deftly tightened the laces of the bodice, ensuring the gown fit flawlessly without restricting the princess's movements. Then Viserra sat before a large mirror in a carved frame, and the maids tended to her hair.
The girls' fingers quickly and with practiced ease parted the thick silver strands. Instead of fashioning an elaborate, heavy hairstyle, they simply wove two slender braids at the sides, securing them at the back of her head with silver seahorse pins, leaving the rest of her hair to cascade freely over her shoulders. Viserra looked at her reflection, nodded with satisfaction, and rose from her chair.
"Thank you, you are dismissed," she said softly.
The maids gathered their things and left the quarters, leaving Viserra alone. She smoothed the folds of her skirt, took a deep breath, and stepped into the corridor, heading toward the dining hall. In these two weeks, she had already grown accustomed to every morning beginning the same way - with a family meal. In the Red Keep, the royal family's shared meals always felt like official receptions, with an invisible tension hanging over the table. At High Tide, however, everything was different.
Viserra walked through the wide, bright corridors of High Tide, their walls adorned with tapestries of sea battles and maps of uncharted lands. Her steps were quiet, and her thoughts involuntarily drifted back to the events of the last two weeks. Everything that had happened to her in this brief time felt like a wondrous, almost surreal dream.
The wedding night itself had turned out nothing like how the older girls or married court ladies in King's Landing had described it. Viserra had expected roughness, a mere fulfillment of marital duty, or undue haste. But Corlys had surprised her. He showed such sensitivity, patience, and tenderness that all of Viserra's fears melted away within the very first minutes. He was remarkably skilled, as if he knew exactly how to make her body feel pleasure, and did not rest until he was certain his young wife was happy and content. Their intimacy became a revelation and a source of joy for Viserra.
Following the wedding, the feast and the grand tourney held in honor of their union continued for five long days. The island of Driftmark had never before seen so many knights and famed warriors. To the surprise of many southern lords, Corlys did not sit aside and took part in the tourney himself. Viserra remembered how her heart leapt at every clash of lances. Her husband defeated one opponent after another with frightening ease until he reached the final bout.
His opponent in the finals was the legendary Ser Ryam Redwyne, one of the finest knights of the Kingsguard and an acclaimed master of the tilt. The entire stands held their breath as the two riders met in the first pass. The ground trembled beneath the hooves of their heavy destriers. Lance after lance shattered, splinters flying in all directions, yet neither was willing to yield. This continued until the fifth course. Corlys, driving his lance with a precise and powerful strike right into the center of Ser Ryam's shield, hit the knight with such force that he was unhorsed, crashing heavily onto the packed earth. The stands erupted in cheers of delight.
Viserra remembered how Corlys, breathing heavily beneath his sea-green armor, guided his mount toward the royal box. At the tip of his lance swayed a wreath of fresh red roses and white lilies. He lowered the lance before her, crowning her the Queen of Love and Beauty. Until that day, no one had ever crowned Viserra. In King's Landing, all the attention always went to her older sister or to Rhaenys, and the realization that this title now belonged to her, and that her own husband had won it for her, filled her heart with immense pride.
A week ago, the guests and the royal family finally departed Driftmark. The dragons of her father and brothers soared into the sky with loud roars, flying back to the capital, while the ships of the lords vanished one by one beyond the horizon. The island settled into its usual, tranquil life. All these days, Viserra spent either by Corlys's side as he continued to show her his domain, or in the company of his good-sisters - Thea and Elisa.
She often sat with them on a shaded terrace or in the solar, watching the young women play with their infant sons. The toddlers, Corwyn and Aurane, were tiny, amusing, and loud. Watching Thea gently smooth her son's hair while Elise laughed at her baby's clumsy steps, Viserra caught herself thinking more and more about her own future. She frequently pressed a palm to her flat belly, trying to imagine what it would be like to carry a child beneath her heart. What would her and Corlys's child be like? Would it inherit the deeper purple eyes of the Targaryens or the lighter violet shade of the Velaryons? Would it love the sea as much as its father, or would the fire of dragons awaken in its veins? These thoughts no longer frightened her as they once had. On the contrary, they brought a strange, warm solace.
Lost in these reflections, Viserra did not notice that she had reached the tall, carved doors of the dining hall. Two guards in scale armor bowed in unison and threw the doors open for her.
Inside the dining hall, it was warm and bright. Large windows faced the east, and the sun's rays flooded the long oak table laid out for breakfast. As Viserra entered, she saw that the women of the family had already gathered. Lady Alice sat in her customary place, and beside her, in special high wooden chairs, sat the little ones, Corwyn and Aurane. Thea and Elise sat a little further off, quietly discussing a shipment of new fabrics from Yi Ti.
"Good morning, everyone," Viserra said with a smile, walking further into the room. Her greeting was simple and devoid of the formal stiffness she had been taught at the court of King Jaehaerys.
Lady Alice looked up and smiled warmly at her good-daughter.
"Good morning, Viserra, my dear. Come, sit, you are just in time," the elder Lady Velaryon replied.
"Good morning, sister," Thea and Elise greeted her in unison, pausing their conversation.
The young children, noticing Viserra's entrance, were instantly distracted from their silver spoons. Their round faces broke into wide grins. Little Corwyn began to wave his tiny arms joyfully, nearly overturning his bowl of porridge, and prattled amusingly, trying to pronounce her name:
"Vi-sa! Vi-sa is here!"
His cousin Aurane, mimicking Corwyn, also clapped his palms against the wooden tray of his high chair, mangling his words and blowing bubbles:
"Zerra! Zerra here!"
Viserra could not suppress a soft, genuine laugh. She walked over to the children and lightly tapped each of their noses with her finger, making the boys laugh even louder. It was wonderfully heartwarming to her that these little ones reacted so enthusiastically to her presence.
At that moment, the doors of the hall opened again, and the men walked in. Corlys led the way, followed by his brothers, Daeron and Veylor. All three were dressed in simple doublets without excessive ornamentation, and their garments bore the faint scent of salt and morning freshness - a clear sign that they had just returned from the training yard. Apparently, they had even managed to swim in the sea.
The brothers went straight to their wives. Daeron approached Thea, gently placing a hand on her shoulder and pressing a tender kiss to her cheek. Veylor did the same to Elise, quietly asking her how the baby had slept. Corlys, however, walked directly to Viserra. Her violet eyes warmed as he stopped before her. He took her hand, lightly lifted her chin, and kissed her lips gently yet firmly.
"Good morning, my love," he said softly, sincere warmth echoing in his voice. "You look beautiful today."
"Good morning, Corlys," she replied, feeling a faint blush rise to her cheeks.
This seemingly simple scene astonished Viserra every single time. The Velaryon family was strikingly different from all the noble houses she knew in Westeros. In King's Landing, men of House Targaryen or other highborn lords considered showing affection to their wives in public a sign of weakness or poor breeding. They behaved coldly, distantly, hiding behind masks of duty. Yet here, around this table, the men did not hesitate to display their true feelings. They were attentive, caring, and genuinely loved their wives, unafraid of judgmental glances. For Viserra, it was unfamiliar, but incredibly precious.
Everyone began to take their seats. Corlys took his place at the head of the table. Viserra sat at his right hand, as befitted a lawful wife and the lady of the castle. Daeron sat at his older brother's left hand, with his wife Thea beside him. To Viserra's right sat Elise, and her husband Veylor took the seat next to her. At the opposite end of the table, directly across from Corlys, sat Lady Alice. She continued to watch over her grandsons, who sat on either side of her.
Servants began to silently present the dishes: platters of baked fish, fresh eggs, warm wheat bread, rounds of goat cheese, and pitchers of cool juice and milk appeared on the table.
Viserra began to eat, but her gaze kept returning to Lady Alice. The elder Lady Velaryon, with remarkable patience and gentleness, was spoon-feeding little Aurane herself, carefully wiping his stained chin with a soft cloth while Thea helped Corwyn manage his portion. This had genuinely surprised Viserra since her very first day. In the Red Keep, royal children were handed over to wet nurses, nannies, and numerous servants from the moment of their birth. Queen Alysanne, though she loved her children, rarely stooped to feeding them porridge herself or wiping their noses - there was an entire staff of servants for that.
Lady Alice, as if sensing her good-daughter's intense gaze, looked up. She caught the slight bewilderment and surprise on Viserra's face, which the princess had not managed to hide in time. Handing the spoon to a nearby nanny so she could continue feeding her grandson, Alice smiled softly at the young princess.
"I see it still surprises you that I do this myself, Viserra?" she asked quietly, with a kind smile.
Viserra was slightly embarrassed, but she did not hide her thoughts.
"Forgive me, Lady Alice. It is just... in King's Landing, this is always left to the nannies and servants. Mothers of noble houses rarely spend so much time on such simple cares."
Lady Alice shook her head, her silver hair gleaming in the sunlight.
"The blood of ancient Valyria flows in Velaryon veins, but we are human first, my child," she answered weightily yet gently. "When I feed these boys, when I see their smiles and hear their babble, it brings me back to the days when Corlys, Daeron, and Veylor were such tiny things themselves. Time flies too quickly, Viserra. Before you know it, these little ones will don armor and go off to sea, or to war. These short years when they need our care are a mother's happiest time. You will understand this yourself when your own firstborn presses against your breast. Then, you will not want to yield these moments to any nanny in the world."
The elder lady's words echoed in Viserra's soul with a strange, deep tremor. She looked at Corlys, who was listening intently to his brother at that moment, and felt a growing certainty within her that Lady Alice was right.
The remainder of the meal passed in an exceptionally high, light mood. The men joked, discussing their morning training and matters at the port of Spicetown, while Daeron shared an amusing tale of a foolish merchant from Pentos who tried to sell dyed wool as rare silk. The hall was filled with the clatter of silver utensils and quiet, happy laughter.
When breakfast was finished, the family members gradually rose from the table, preparing to attend to their daily duties. Daeron and Veylor bade farewell to their wives and headed for the exit, intending to visit the shipyards. Thea and Elise gathered the children to take them for a morning walk.
Corlys rose from his chair but was in no hurry to leave. He turned to Viserra and extended his hand to her.
"Viserra, my love, I have a request for you," he said seriously yet affectionately. "Follow me. We must speak in private, away from prying ears."
The princess raised her brows in surprise, but without hesitation, she placed her palm in his hand.
"Of course, Corlys."
Corlys led her through the twisting corridors of the castle, taking her far from the living quarters and noisy servants. They exited through an inconspicuous side door and found themselves in a secluded, walled garden situated on one of the terraces of High Tide. This garden was hidden from the rest of the castle by high stone walls draped in wild ivy and rare southern flowers that Corlys had brought back from his distant voyages. The air here was filled with the scent of rosemary, lavender, and the salty breath of the sea.
In the very center of the garden, beneath the shade of a spreading tree with unusual silvery leaves, rested Ares. The massive black panther lay on the grass, his powerful paws stretched out. His sleek coat gleamed under the sun's rays.
No sooner had the garden doors closed behind Corlys and Viserra than Ares instantly raised his head. His yellow, predatory eyes narrowed, focusing on the newcomers. As if by some strange, animal instinct, the beast immediately understood that this conversation would differ from their usual walks, and that the atmosphere between his masters had shifted, turning grave and tense. The panther rose smoothly to his paws, stretched, letting out a low, barely audible growl, and began to pace slowly and authoritatively across the garden grounds. Ares moved along the stone walls, peering into every shaded corner and checking the spaces between the bushes, as if personally ensuring that no one could hide and eavesdrop on them.
Viserra watched Ares's behavior with a slight smile, though a faint, curious flutter of anxiety was beginning to stir within her. She turned to her husband, her violet eyes narrowing playfully, and decided to tease him slightly to break the tension.
"Do you truly harbor such dreadful secrets, Corlys, that they require Ares himself to pace the garden like a guard at the gates of a treasury?" she asked with a chuckle, crossing her arms over her chest. "Are you afraid the birds will whisper your words back to the king?"
Corlys did not laugh in response. He stopped in the middle of the path, turned to her, his face remaining entirely solemn, even stern.
"You have no idea, Viserra, just how necessary it is," he answered, his deep voice sounding remarkably firm. "It is not that there are enemy spies in my castle - my guards are vigilant, and my men are loyal to House Velaryon. But extra caution in what we are about to speak of is far from superfluous. This secret could change everything."
Viserra stopped smiling. She felt her husband's gravity transfer to her as well. Corlys took a deep breath, looking out at the trees, before fixing his gaze directly on his wife.
"Do you remember, Viserra, that before our wedding, when you first arrived at High Tide, I made you a promise?" he asked quietly. "I promised that once the wedding hustle died down, I would reveal my deepest secrets to you. Secrets that no living soul in this world knows, save for myself and my family."
"I remember, Corlys," the princess answered firmly. "I have not forgotten your words."
Corlys nodded, clasping his hands behind his back, and began to pace slowly down the path.
"When I was a young boy," he began his tale, "I started noticing strange things about myself. Things that were completely impossible for other people. My brothers, my peers, the simple servants - none of them could do what I could. At first, it showed in small ways: I could sense a person approaching long before I heard their footsteps, or I could make small objects move or change shape when I desired it intensely. Over time, as I grew, and through long, grueling years of independent research, training, and studying ancient texts, I understood the true nature of my gift. It is magic, Viserra."
The princess froze in her tracks. For a few seconds, she just stared at him, certain her husband had decided to play a jest on her or test her reaction. Magic? Everyone in Westeros knew that magic had left this world along with the Doom of Valyria, leaving behind nothing but the Targaryen dragons and the occasional tales from maesters about the Children of the Forest and the greenseers of the North.
"Corlys, this... this is an amusing jest," she said with a strained smile, taking a step back. "But if you wished to surprise me, you chose a strange way to do it. Magic is but a bedtime story for small children, like Gael, who believe in wizards from fables."
Corlys made no reply. Instead of words, he simply turned to face a small, artificial pool situated in the center of the garden. The water within it was still and clear.
He slowly raised his right hand, spreading his fingers, and made a smooth, upward motion with his palm. In that very instant, the surface of the pool boiled. Viserra's eyes widened in shock, and she pressed a hand to her lips as a wide, massive torrent of water rose high into the air with a quiet murmur, completely submissive to her husband's will. The water did not splash, it held together as a single, dense mass, hovering above the ground.
Corlys flexed his fingers slightly, and the water stream began to rapidly alter its shape. Right before the eyes of the stunned princess, the water transformed into a perfect, intricately detailed figure of a massive dragon. The water dragon unfurled its translucent wings, lashed its tail, and silently opened its jaws as if unleashing a blast of unseen flame. Then, with another movement of Corlys's hand, the figure instantly shifted into a different form - now a majestic seahorse hovered in the air before them, the sigil of House Velaryon, its watery scales and fins perfectly refracting the sunlight, casting rainbow glints across the entire garden.
Viserra stood rooted to the spot, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. The shock was so profound that she could barely find the strength to breathe. This was no trick or illusion - she was seeing it with her own eyes, a mere pace and a half away. Yielding to an overwhelming impulse, she stepped closer to the hovering water figure, her legs stiff. She extended a trembling hand and cautiously, with the very tip of her finger, touched the watery flank of the seahorse.
The water was cool, liquid, and entirely real. It flowed, bound to an invisible frame, and left a wet trail on Viserra's finger. It existed in defiance of every law of nature the princess knew.
Corlys smoothly lowered his hand. In that same instant, the figure lost its shape, and all the water crashed back into the pool in a dense, heavy torrent, sending up a spray of splashes. Silence returned to the garden, broken only by the measured murmur of the sea waves.
Viserra slowly turned to her husband. Her violet eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of fear, shock, and wild curiosity. She realized that Corlys was not jesting. No man in the world could perform such a feat for mere amusement.
"Gods..." she breathed, feeling her throat go dry. "You... you truly did it. It is no dream. What... what else are you capable of, Corlys? What else can your magic do?"
Corlys stepped closer to her, his gaze softening as he witnessed her shock. He took her gently by the shoulders, helping her steady herself.
"My capabilities are vast, Viserra," he began calmly, trying to explain everything as accessibly as possible, without complex terms that might confuse her. "The magic I wield is not merely the ability to move water. It is the capacity to bend the very essence of things to my will, to alter the reality around me through concentration, intent, and inner strength. I can move massive objects with my mind, I can transmute matter - turning one element into another, changing the form of inanimate objects. I am capable of making things fly, I can heal wounds and ailments that maesters deem fatal, and I can raise protective barriers able to withstand the blow of a battering ram or even dragonfire. I can draw warding and reinforcing runes, and brew intricate potions capable of changing the properties of the human body. It is a vast, disciplined science that I have spent my entire life studying."
Viserra listened to him, holding her breath. Every word he spoke opened up a completely new, terrifying, and yet beautiful world before her. But one question gave her no peace. If magic had left this world hundreds of years ago, how had he come to know of all this? How could a single boy on a distant island master what was thought to be lost forever?
"But how, Corlys?" she asked, looking deep into his eyes. "How were you able to find all this out? How did you learn to command such a power when there are no teachers in Westeros, no books, no one who could guide you on the right path? Did you truly devise it all yourself?"
Corlys gave an enigmatic smile, a spark of memory gleaming in his eyes.
"Not all of it, Viserra. I had to learn much on my own, making mistakes and groping for a path in the dark, but the major breakthrough came later. Do you remember the history of my voyages? When I turned fourteen, I persuaded my grandsire to let me make my first long independent voyage aboard the Sea Snake. Officially, we set a course for Volantis, for trade."
He paused, his expression turning solemn once more.
"But when we arrived in Volantis, I used my magical abilities, which were already growing stronger at the time. I managed to conceal my true intentions from the crew with the help of Ser Adam, left the ship in port, and headed alone to a place where no captain of Westeros or Essos dared sail. I went to Valyria itself. To the smoking ruins of the fallen empire."
Viserra instinctively shuddered, genuine horror reflected on her face.
"To Valyria?" she whispered fearfully. "But that is a cursed place! The maesters say the earth there still boils, the sea is choked with poisonous gases, and the very air kills anyone who dares approach the shores of the Peninsula! No one... no one has ever returned from there alive!"
"The maesters are only partly right," Corlys replied calmly. "The air there is indeed laden with lethal poisons, sulfurous fumes, and ancient curses that rot a common man's flesh within minutes. The sea there churns from underwater volcanoes. Without my magic, I would not have survived a quarter of an hour. But my abilities allowed me to conjure an invisible protective dome around myself - a barrier that purified the air for breathing. I spent several days among the ruins of the shattered cities. And there, in the vaults of the ruined palaces of the ancient Valyrian dragonlords, which had not entirely burned in the fires of the Doom, I found what I sought. I found treasures of knowledge believed to be lost to mankind forever."
He took her hand, his fingers tightening firmly around her palm.
"Come with me, Viserra. It is time to show you what I brought back from there."
Corlys led her back into the castle, but this time they did not ascend to the living quarters. They began to descend deeper and deeper, bypassing the familiar wine cellars, the massive stone storerooms filled with provisions, and the kitchens. They walked down narrow, blind staircases carved directly out of the depths of the rock upon which High Tide stood. There were no windows here, and their way was lit only by sporadic torches secured in iron rings upon the damp stone walls. The air grew steadily cooler and denser.
At last, they descended to the lowest, secret level of the dungeons, whose existence Viserra had never even suspected. They walked down a long, straight corridor that terminated at a massive, colossal door. This door was carved from a single piece of strange, matte-black stone resembling obsidian, and its entire surface was covered in complex, intertwining patterns and symbols whose purpose the princess could not comprehend.
Corlys stopped before the door. He let go of Viserra's hand, stepped forward, and placed his palm against the center of the black stone surface. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Suddenly, a strange, frightening sound escaped his lips. These were not words in High Valyrian or the Common Tongue. It was a low, continuous, sinister hissing that made the hairs on the back of Viserra's neck stand on end. The sounds resembled the hissing of a massive serpent preparing to strike - they were cold, guttural, and slick. The princess held her breath, feeling a shiver run down her spine. She did not understand a single sound, but with her entire being, she sensed an ancient, heavy power awakening behind that door in response to her husband's hissing.
A moment later, deep within the stone depths, a heavy, metallic click rang out. Locks turned, and the massive black door swung smoothly inward without a single sound or creak, inviting them to enter.
================================================================
A/N
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