[img]http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2014/10/28/1414534043702_wps_4_George_R_R_Martin_s_next_.jpg[/img]

[b][u]Dragonstone[/u][/b]

Ash

In a few short hours the fire of Rhaenyra Targaryen had seared away to ash. All joy had fled her, turned to rage, then despair. In a matter of hours, from the ruin had formed fury.

Despite the warnings of her maester, the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms stood, gazing out across the sea from the council hall of Dragonstone. She was garbed, as usual, in the red and black of her family. Her gown was loose in its cut, to avoid presenting, as best as possible, the remaining pronounced bump of her recent pregnancy. Nothing could fail to remind the Princess, now Queen, herself of the pain that still tore apart her insides, body and soul, but at least her appearance did not have to present the form of failed life.

Daemon had been distracted along the way, by what, she could not say, but the reprieve in any immediate visit had given her the time to dress and stand. It would not do for those allies she could count who had already made their way to the seat of her power to find her crippled and abed, even if every inch of her body yearned for her to crawl up in some corner and forget the pain.

She would not crawl, she would not bow or kneel or beg or simper.
She would rule.

"Bid them enter. Their Queen wishes their council." Rhaenyra spoke to Maester Gerardys, hovering as he was nearby, without turning from her view.

"Of course your grace." He bowed slightly, moving away as Rhaenyra moved to stand before the great table. The map of westeros, carven by her ancestors. Her birthright, stolen, as so much had been.

Despite her grief, despite her pain, when the first of Rhaenyra Targaryen's loyal subjects entered at her order, they were met with a stern and noble gaze. Every inch the Princess of charm and severity both, now remade a queen, with the promise of one thing.

Ash.


That morning, the sun shone on the Seahorse banners as House Velaryon's ships made their way to Dragonstone. It was still early in the day when the Velaryon flotilla came close to port. There were a dozen or so cogs, with two score dromonds escorting them, along with two larger flagships. The [i]Bold Laughter[/i] captained by Ser Valarr dipped two-hundred oars and its deck was bristling with ship-based trebuchets while several scorpions were arrayed on the broadsides and at strategic points on deck. The [i]Sea Snake[/i] however was twice as large and four hundred oars with even more weaponry. All of the ships were ferrying as much infantrymen as they could carry. Corlys spotted Meleys flying over the castle next to several of her kin and smiled, motioning for the crew to start bringing the flotilla into port. There were some Targaryen ships already there but not near as numerous as the Velaryon contingent. Corlys expected that his house would be the first to respond to the summons, he just hoped they weren't the last. The Sea Snake docked in the deepwater ports first, and Corlys walked down the gangplanks with an escort of men behind him. Valarr soon descended from his own ship and fell in line, shouting at the men aboard the cogs, "Get the cargo unloaded and into Dragonstone! Hurry up!" 

Men and women had been waving from fishing boats and passing trade vessels as the Velaryons came into the island and a spontaneous cheer went up from smallfolk and garrison troops alike as they spied the Velaryon men coming into the island. Corlys smiled but kept moving. Time was of the essence. The Dragonstone Steward came down to greet him and offered him lodgings for him and his men. Corlys accepted and informed the man that they were bringing cargo including more equipment and provisions for the castle and they needed to get them into the fortress as quickly and smoothly as possible. The man agreed and left to help oversee the efforts, Corlys and Valarr ascending to the fortress proper with a squad of men behind them. Corlys entered the great hall and was immediately greeted with delighted laughter from two beautiful twin girls. They both shouted, "Grandfather!" 

Corlys smiled widely as Baela and Rhaena practically leaped into his arms. He hugged and kissed them on the top of their heads, laughing all the while, "Your grandfather is getting too old for this. Next time, you may break my legs." Baela grinned, "You're too tough for that grandfather." Corlys said, "Oh I hope so dear. I do hope so. I need to be strong for you, and your cousins." It was Rhaena's turn to speak, "Rhaenyra is calling for a council. Grandmother will be there. And Jace, and Luke, and Joff. But not us. Why not? We want to go too. We're older than Joff." 

The Sea Snake shook his head, "Grim matters, my dear. And dreadfully boring. I promise, you will have much more fun sitting out of them entirely. I know I wish I could. Now where is your grandmother?" 

She came to him quickly, Rhaenys appearing with a small smile and Corlys hugged her to him, giving her a kiss as the girls laughed in mock disgust. Corlys said, "Run along now girls, we have boring matters to discuss. Valarr, go with them." They complained at first, but at a stern glance from Rhaenys they sighed and retreated off, Valarr on their heels as the men took positions around the castle. Corlys looked at Rhaenys, "The Queen?" 

Rhaenys frowned and said, "The child... did not live. She is still recovering." 

Corlys sighed and rested his head in a wrinkled palm, "Gods. I must go to her." 

Rhaenys shook her head, "Her pride will not allow it. She will not admit visitors other than Daemon and the Maester. She will summon us when she wishes to speak with us. Maester Geradys informed her of your arrival." 

Corlys replied, "Very well. Let me get settled into the room then. And get some rest. There will be little time for it once the business begins in earnest. And I wish to speak with Daemon, before we do." 

Rhaenys nodded and the two went to the room that had been set aside for them. 

---- 

Later that day, more ships joined. At best, a few score more dromonds, more than half single-deckers and most of the rest only two. Corlys spied the red crab of House Celtigar and Lord Bartimos' flagship. He also saw Lord Gormon Massey's colors and a number of ships sporting the triple spiral of Stonedance. Along with them were the Lord Bar Emmon and the Sharp Point fleet, Lord Staunton with his ships that flew black wings on the sails, and Lord Darklyn's checker-sailed ships made up the rest. More ships than Corlys had brought, but these were almost the entirety of their respective fleets, while the vast majority of Corlys' ships were still at home. And these lords were among the most powerful of the Crownlander houses. They were still not enough, not nearly enough. Corlys saw the trials that awaited them ahead and sighed. Talk with Daemon or no, today was going to be a long day. 

As he watched, he saw forces of men disembark from the ships. The fleet surrounding Dragonstone was starting to become respectable, but they needed far more. Corlys knew once business was finished here, he would likely call for more ships from Driftmark. If the gods were good they would have ships from several corners of the realm soon. As he kept watching he saw the lords depart their vessels. Corlys pondered what they should do with their families. If it came to war, they would need to blockade the Gullet, and do so with every ship they had at their disposal. Many of the lords' families would be stranded in their own castles, and close to King's Landing and Aegon's wrath. Perhaps they needed to send for their women and children to join them at Dragonstone or another safe harbor. He resolved to bring it to the Council's attention. 

Corlys left his balcony and was joined by Rhaenys, and the pair went down to the beach to greet the incoming lords. The five approaching noblemen made a fine sight in their colors, with their men gathering together to man positions of defense. Corlys smiled at Bartimos and favored the others with the same, "My lords, you are a most welcome sight." 

Bartimos nodded in reply, "I'm sure. But I had hoped more of us would be here by now." 

Corlys said, "I am confident that Lord Rosby and Stokeworth will be here to join us with their men and ships soon. I feel the same for the Men of Crackclaw Barren and Sweetport Sound. Perhaps even Maidenpool and Tarth. Not to mention more sellsails and mercenaries then you can shake a stick at." 

Gormon Massey spoke up, "That will still not nearly be enough. Even assuming all of them join us." 

Corlys shook his head, "No, it will not. But we are taking steps to improve our position. Thankfully you all arrived on time. The Queen is calling a council. All of us with King Daemon and her sons will be joining us. Ser Erryk Cargyll and Ser Lorent Marbrand as well, I suspect. Let's get you all settled into rooms and refreshed before we begin. Agreed?" There was a general murmur of assent and the party ascended to Dragonstone. 

Later, after they had some time to prepare they were all called in for Rhaenyra's Black Council. Corlys nodded to Daemon and smiled at his grandsons before entering the room after the King Consort, Princes, and Kingsguard knights. Corlys and Rhaenys were the first of the new allies to greet the Queen. Corlys bowed his head, "Hello, my queen. Allow me to introduce Lord Celtigar, Lord Massey, Lord Staunton, Lord Darklyn, and Lord Bar Emmon. They are but the first of many to declare for you, and their men and ships are already with us." Each Lord offered their formal greetings to the Queen. 

Corlys continued, "I expect more allies to join us shortly, and I have quite a few ideas how to do so. For now, for those of us who are your first friends and truest, perhaps we can consider this your official Small Council as the rightful Queen. Shall we sit?" 

Rhaenyra smiled a greeting to each lord as they were introduced, although her last, and most genuien, was reserved for the Grandfather of her children. Even if the intimacies of her first marriage were somewhat in question, the Queen had ever been close to the Velaryons, especially since Jace's birth.

"Of course, good-father." While her first husband may be long dead, the familiar phrasing did much to seperate Lord Velaryon from the rest, without yet bestowing a formal title. "You all, as my most loyal lords and subjects, will sit my first council. I regret that the granting of formal titles must wait for our situation to be made clearer, but consider your council close to my heart." It took every inch of her will to remain the height of courtesy despite her burning rage, and the seering pain within her. As the lords of her diminished realm sat, Rhaenyra remaind standing, in place of the helm chair. In principle, it gave her a greater sense of command, in reality, she would not have been able to hide the pain from bending her body to sit.

"It seems my half-brother has taken it upon himself, or shall I say, his mother, to spurn the wish of my departed and noble father, in claiming my crown for himself. Likely my father's body was allowed to languish and rot before they revealed their treachery, another crime they must answer for. While we know our cause is just, we cannot claim to start with the advantage. We must surely move to change that." As she finished speaking, she raised an eyebrow, as if to prompt the assembled lords to share their ideas for such. She had her own, but for now, they would wait.

Corlys and Rhaenys seated themselves as close to the Queen and the rest of the royal family as possible, in effect sitting between Rhaenyra and her family and the rest of the bannermen. He smiled at Rhaenyra, "Good-daughter, as soon as I received word of Aegon's treachery, my councillors and I worked through the night to debate solutions that we could put forth to this council." 

He retrieved several rolls of parchment and opened them, "Firstly, you are absolutely correct, your grace. It is likely the Greens had a week or more to plan before the coronation, and we are sorely behind. Your brother holds every symbol of legitimacy and they have both more men and more wealth with just House Lannister and House Hightower behind them, and you can be sure that many more will follow. I may be the richest single lord in the kingdom, but the greens can still outspend us. I have taken steps to mitigate this." 

The Sea Snake gestured to the cogs at anchor, "I've brought a significant amount of House Velaryon's coffers to the island. Some, I wish to store here, as Dragonstone is a nigh impregnable fortress and it would both ensure our financial stability and allow us quick access to significant wealth. The other portion, I intend to entrust to the Iron Bank for safekeeping. A portion of that will be collateral, as I intend to secure a line of credit from the Iron Bank, in your name. With my backing behind you, it will be an investment they cannot refuse and their considerable resources will allow us more even footing with our rivals in matters of spending. They should be sending an armed flotilla to retrieve the gold and an agent to work out a deal now." 

"And indeed this is important, for we will need coin to keep up production of ships, equip and feed men, give as gifts to lords, and hire sellswords and sellsails. I've already had missives sent to several companies and corsairs, including the Company of the Rose and Captain Saan." 

Corlys continued, "Since all the lords here have pledged to defend our queen's rights, and we are the greatest of the Dragonstone vassals, all with port towns and wealth, I believe it only proper and necessary that we should all donate a portion of coin to the royal treasury and aid my good daughter. I have already done so. My lords?" He looked around at Bartimos, at Gormon, and all the rest. 

Lord Celtigar chewed his lip for a moment and said, "House Celtigar has stood with Velaryon and Targaryen for centuries, ever since the days of Aenar the Exile. We will not break faith today, and we will do everything we can to help. I will have gold sent for from Claw Isle." All the other lords nodded their assent. 

Corlys smiled, "I wholeheartedly believe that Lords Rosby, Stokeworth, Sunglass, and the men of Crackclaw will all join us shortly with their own ships. Since every one is a direct vassal to House Targaryen, and has ports to generate trade, we can ask the same of them. Their contributions can flow to us, while our navy blockades the Gullet. We will choke off all sea-based trade to King's Landing and even the scales. Meanwhile, Dragonstone and Driftmark can take all the customers that King's Landing loses, as we'll keep the docks open. We will be on much firmer monetary standing. And once the matter is solved, all coin that we have not used will be returned to you, my lords. And the debts will be paid. The Lannisters can accomodate us, I suspect. They do love prattling on about paying debts." There was a general round of chuckling. 

The Sea Snake looked at Rhaenyra, "Do you agree with these fiscal measures, my queen?" 

"My Lord Velaryon has the word of it, it pains me to ask such of you my lords, your loyalty itself should be enough, but alas my half-brother has made the bed for us all to lie in, and wars cost more than loyalty." Again, each lord had earned themselves another smile and nod of gratitude. In more peaceful days, even that alone could have been seen as a great reward, a smile from the Realm's Delight, but these matters were more serious.

"With those matters attend to, we must work to cut my half-brother's lead on the matter of allies, houses Baratheon and Arryn are tied of us more directly through blood, but, great houses should not be called forth by raven alone." The Queen mused aloud, before continuing herself, "The Iron Isles and the North have no particular love for my half-brother." Still she refused to use his name or title, for now, the pain was too fresh.

Corlys nodded, unrolling another sheet of parchment, "I compiled a list of high lords who I believe to be personally sympathethic to our cause. All because they supported my wife's claim at the Great Council, swore fealty and devotion to defend your rights, and were public black supporters. They include houses from the Reach, the Stormlands, the Riverlands, the Vale, and the North. We can have more personally styled letters sent to them. But for the great houses, something else is needed, to suit their stature." 

"Your great council was eight and twenty years ago" Jested Daemon, sweeping into the bleak room and comically flicking over a dragon figurine in gilded gold on the painted table in the likeness of a dragon. It toppled from its place in Kings Landing and rolled out across Blackwater Rush. That all eyes tracked its progress was testament to the tension in the room. He clapped Lord Corlys on the shoulder. "It's good to see you again Old Friend." He smiled genially. "And you, my love, should still be abed. It's remiss for you to be here spending your strength on these dialogues. You'll need all of it soon enough." His lips tightened. "We all will." For now, Rhaenyra responded with nothing but a stern look towards her husband, she did not hold it long, she had always found his flippancy amusing, but for now, she could not be seen to show it. Corlys smiled warmly at Daemon, "And you old friend. There is none I'd rather fight beside."

"We can go." Prince Jacaerys spoke up, perhaps slightly out of turn at that, seemingly focusing in on the meeting truly for the first time. He paused a moment, sure enough that he was not about to be immediately interrupted, before continuing. "They will not wish to commit their riders to battle, yet, nor will we, but a dragon is faster than a ship, and is surely greater than a raven. We outnumber them in riders, each of us can treat with the lords we can sway." His eyes flickered between mother and grandfather, the young prince was assured for his age, but still, the Prince's first real forray into the twisting turns of rule.

Corlys nodded at Jace, smiling at the young prince and turning to Rhaenyra, "My grandson has the right of it. We must appeal to these lords directly, and seeing your sons on dragon back will cement their legitimacy in the eyes of the realm. Lord Tyrell is just a babe, with his mother as regent. Lady Tyrell will either pledge banners with the Hightowers or remain neutral to keep her son safe, either way she is not worth appealing to. The same for Lord Tully, he is an old man who is like to support the greens if anything. But each of those houses have vassals who will be sympathethic to us. We should send letters to them, and riders to Pyke, Winterfell, the Vale, and Storm's End."

 "These are the lords we must turn if we are to even the odds. And your half-brother has come to the same conclusion, make no mistake. They have only four riders, but I doubt Helaena will leave the Red Keep and her children behind. He will send his brothers to speak for him, where I cannot be sure, but Storm's End and the Vale are likely candidates. Jeyne is your friend, but she has certain.. cause to take issue with us." Corlys looked side-eyed at Daemon and shrugged apologetically. 

"Lord Borros is a man who is nearly unpredictable." 

Rhaenys spoke up for the first time, "He is my kin. His father was a great supporter of my claim. He will stand with us." 

"Mayhaps, my love. But we need to ensure his support. And Aegon will court him. He has a powerful army at his beck and call. Both Baratheon and Arryn are proud lines, he will make sure to appeal to them personally. Remember that Borros has four daughters to wed." 

Corlys grimaced, "And there is a chance he can appeal to Daemon and I's old enemies. Dorne and the Triarchy. With the Triarchy fleet and Dornish guerillas on their side... they will have an edge. Perhaps we can appeal to the Dornish, but it would be very difficult to get them on our side, with the emnities their people hold for us. We can send a missive, but I believe our focus should be on those four we discussed. If we get them to our side, maybe then we can approach Dorne. While the riders go about, we'll have the Targaryen vassal ships come to us and my fleet can blockade the gullet, and I'll make sure messages are sent to every house that we even have a chance of swaying." 

Daemon had listened for longer than he ordinarily would but the Triarchy and the war he and Corlys had waged in the Stepstones was ever prevalent in his mind. He'd lost more there than he'd let on.

"Fuck the Triarchy." He spat. "We make for Storm's End. If the Greens move for aid from foreign sails and throw in with the treachery of the Dornish then that will only sour their hand with Baratheon. The Reach too but I doubt Highgarden would march against Hightower as it were. Borros has almost as little love for Dorne as Corlys and I have. 

"The question is, who should go where, my queen?" 

"If Rhaenys believes her words will sway her kin, I see little reason to deny her, but, we cannot deny Lord Borros is a changeable man, a display of force greater than a single rider would suit us well there, and, as the closest seat to King's Landing, we should be cautious of the traitor's riders." Rhaenyra mused allowed, her hands held together infront of her, careful not to touch or press the pained swell of her stomach beneath her gown.

"I would have the King accompany her." The Queen's eyes settled on Daemon as she spoke, her gaze full of unspoken emotion, of great variety, for only a moment, before the severity of her tone returned. "Rhaenys may speak with her kin, but fear comes in the form of Caraxes." She was deliberate to pose her will as a suggestion, for now.

"Equally, the Ironborn respect nothing but strength, and their fleet would secure our dominion of the seas, a pair of riders, the Princes, would be sufficient, a pair of dragons above their wooden fleet, and a promise of free raiding upon those who label themselves traitors." The latter statement, still a suggestion, was laced with no small amount of venom.

Rhaenys replied, "Aye, my cousin can be a hard-headed man. With Daemon by my side, mayhaps he will know that we are of no small account. And if we encounter any of the greens there, they would be fool to fight. It is the safest course. Perhaps we can offer him the hand of Prince Joffrey, to one of his daughters. And our support, if he wishes to seek reprisals against the Dornish or the Triarchy for their rapacity against his people." 

A flicker of a smile flashed across Daemon's lips. They had the right of it about Caraxes but it amused him because his companion boasted as fearsome a mount as any herself. The Red Queen, Meleys, was perhaps as dread a prospect as Caraxes, though he fancied himself the more skilful rider. Either way, he was grateful he'd never need find out the truth.

"I'd be honoured to accompany you Lady Rhaenys. I'm sure you will see to it that I return safely" He grinned, squeezing Rhaenyra's hand in a token of unity. 

Corlys nodded slowly, "The Ironborn do respect strength. And they hate the Lannisters and the Reachmen. Giving them the opportunity to raid and reave their lands would be very attractive to them. We could also give them leave and our support to raid the Stepstones or the Triarchy once the war is done. Those islands and cities have much treasure and many ships. Not to mention women. We need to deal with the Three Daughters at some point, having an Ironborn fleet helping us do it would kill two birds with one stone." 

The Sea Snake continued, "But we cannot discount Winterfell or the Vale. We need to send a Prince to them. I do not think you want to risk Joff, he is young sitll. But send my granddaughter Baela and Moondancer with one of the Princes to the Iron Islands. That will still give us two dragons there. And the other can go North. Jace as the oldest, can appeal to Lord Cregan, the Lord of Winterfell is close to him in age if I recall correctly. And the North hasn't seen a royal in a long time. It is important to get to them first, I believe we can leave the Vale for later, after one of the Princes has success. What do you think, good daughter?" 

"A wise plan my lord, and if we can encourage the Ironborn to solve another conflict for us once this is done, more the better, very well, Jace shall ride North and surely the North will remember its oaths." Rhaenyra sighed, no joy filled her at the next element she would add; "I will fly to the Eyrie, Jeyne has long been my dear friend, I am best suited to ease her grief at more recent times. I have no doubt she will aid us, but this shall make her swifter and greater in her support." While outwardly she calmly proposed the idea, within she could barely contain the dread of flying as she was now, she could delay some time, but she had no doubt it would not be an easy ride, if it were to be timely.

Corlys looked flabbergasted, "My queen, good-daughter. I cannot in good conscience agree, you must recover. It will be a long journey. We cannot risk you so. Besides, we need dragons here to defend the fortress and our fleets."  

Initially Daemon looked as horrified as Corlys but he also knew his wife her entire life. Whilst the Sea Snake made his protest, Daemon saw the sense in it. "You are weak but we all know you well enough not to have you twiddle your thumbs whilst a usurper sits on your father's throne that by rights belongs to you. Yes. It is folly to fly in your condition but fly you will and in that case, The Eyrie is closer than most and safer than any. If you were to appeal personally to Jeyne Arryn then I think we can rely upon her support and the Knights of the Vale must be a high priority looking at the numbers."

Rhaenys put a hand on Corlys' shoulder, "A queen does what she must, Corlys. It will ensure Jeyne's support. We need the Knights of the Vale and the Gulltown fleet if we want to win. We need them quickly." 

Jace too looked aghast at his mother's suggestion, while his younger brother seemed more confused, however, the pair remained silent for now, content to allow their elders to drive the discussion.

Corlys sighed looking down, "I already lost a daughter. You are the closest to one, I have left. But, I cannot stop you. Only do my best to help. I will send for a Maester from Driftmark. They can accompany you on dragonback and ensure your health. And we can delay this journey until after your coronation, which I believe we must plan. We should hold it as soon as possible and send the riders." 

"This move will leave us with no dragon riders at home besides Joff. Rhaena's egg may hatch but it will be of no matter for at least two years. We have many dragons here that need riders. Mayhaps it's time to address that shortage. That way we can send the royals to treat and still have riders to defend us." 

"Fear not" Daemon put in, "I have taken measures to that end. This morning, I put what Ravens had returned to flight to seek dragonseeds. There must be many and more across the realm with a drop of dragonblood. The Seven only know our forbears weren't big on fidelity." He could almost feel the raised eyebrows levelled in his direction. "Mayhaps... Mayhaps I might have heard of one or two myself." He gave his most winning smile but feared even in her weakened state, he might face some sharp questions from his Royal Wife later. 

Corlys nodded in comprehension, "Yes indeed. But we need not look so far for seeds. There are hundreds of them on Dragonstone and Driftmark alone, thousands even. We can put out a general call. Offer gold, honors, and knighthood to any that would swear fealty to Rhaenyra. There are men I can approach in both the navy and the army who would be suitable."

"Well and good. It would be remiss not to warn these seeds of the dangers they face, though. We can offer them the riches of the Realm but for every one that mounts a dragon, five or more may perish in the attempt." He raised his palms in apology for adding another potential fly to the ointment.

"Perhaps, but the traitors will not know this in enough time to react before Rhaenys and Daemon return from the Stormlands." For now, the Queen avoided any further question of her health, although she did nod as to the proximity of her coronation. "The bowels of Dragonstone are proof even from dragonflame, they would be forced into a siege that could be lifted shortly, that, and the wild dragons of the isle may well defend their lairs as if under attack, a siege of this castle is a dangerous affair." The Queen mused, before raising an eyebrow.

Corlys stroked his chin thoughtfully, "You may be right. This is a nigh-unassailable fortress. We must keep the wall manned with archers and crossbowmen, and make sure Scorpions line the parapets. The same must be true for every keep and castle our supporters hold. But we are relatively safe here. It would be as foolish for Aegon to attack Dragonstone as it would be for us to storm King's Landing." 

"My main concern is the navy. If we send a fleet to blockade the gullet, I would prefer we have dragon cover to provide both aerial reconnaisance and fire support. In any battle of ships, dragons could be the edge. But treating with the lords is a higher priority. However, if we can saddle more dragons, we must."

"And how would you seek to do this? To give riders to these wild dragons."

"There is no doubt that those without the blood of the dragon are unlikely to tame the beast, but, to a dragon, what matters the sanctity of marriage? Many who live on this island no doubt have some Valyrian blood in their veigns, perhaps if we offered reward to those who could succesfully tame one? So long as the wild dragons are not roused to cause further damage, it might win us a great boon." Prince Jace, despite the question being aimed at Lord Velaryon, was the first to answer, raising an eyebrow as he did so.

The Sea Snake laid his hands on the table, nodding at the Prince, "Jace has the right of it. Only the blood of the dragon matters. Bastardy has no bearing. We can offer knighthood, honors, and riches to any dragonseed on either Dragonstone and Driftmark. They will swear fealty to us and help his in this fight. We can put the call out immediately, and we will have dozens of candidates by tomorrow. Out of the many countless seeds who live on the islands, it is a mathematical near-certainty that we will find enough to ride the spare dragons. The advantage this will give us is great, I believe it is the best course of action." 

Rhaenyra was long in her silence, before she eventually responded; "While there is merit to the idea, I do wonder if perhaps giving in to such a...unconventional approach, while not be something of a moral victory for the traitors. Furthermore, will a new dragon rider be content with petty titles and baubels? When they have the might of a dragon to command." She sighed as she finished speaking, silently cursing her half-brother once more for the situation he had placed her, and the realm, in.

"Begin with established 'seeds' those we may already know and can trust, see if the Dragons take to them, if not, we can look to your more broader plan." She finally decided, nodding with surity, the leading questions of her earlier words gone, for now.

"Are there any other matters to discuss? There is the matter of a coronation, but I would rather we deal with more direct trials first."

Corlys accepted Rhaenyra's orders without further comment. There were a few seeds on Dragonstone and Driftmark he trusted, men who were members of the garrison or the fleet. And perhaps one of his nephews or even the Celtigars could try their hands at taming a dragon. There has never been a Celtigar rider, but they had Valyrian blood as well. One of their line might be able to mount a dragon. 

Lord Velaryon spoke up, "Yes. I believe it is in our best interests to try and court some of the Free Cities to our cause. We need not appeal directly, the Westerosi houses are of more immediate import, but the Three Daughters have many rivals. Braavos, Pentos, Volantis, Lorath. With your leave, we can send missives to the rulers of each city, asking their aid in case the Triarchy joins the fray. And pledging our support in turn to challenge their power once the war is done." 

Daemon nodded his assent. "I too may have contacts in the free cities that ought to be sympathetic to our cause, or if not our cause then our coin." He shot a helpless look towards Corlys. "Laena and I travelled far across Essos together and whilst I might not have the most winning personality, she made us many friends." He had the decency to look sad at the memory in the presence of her grief-stricken parents though he had ever struggled with emotions other than lust and anger.

Corlys returned the look to Daemon with a nod. Even now it hurt to think of Laena. Mayhaps she could still help them, in their hour of need. 

"Another issue concerns our bannermen. I mean those lords who are direct vassals to House Targaryen such as the good men gathered here today. Lords whose homes will be close to the wrath of your half-brother. We are already asking them to send their ships and gold here. And while the lords will need to leave garrisons behind to hold their castles, perhaps we should send for their families, the women and children specifically, and have them brought to Dragonstone? It would certainly ease their concerns about their safety. And allow them to focus on the matters of war." 

There was a general murmur of assent from the assembled lords, nearly all of whom had their keeps located close to King's Landing with wives and children in potential danger. 

"The protection of Dragonstone is open to all those who would stay true to the rightful Queen." Rhaenyra nodded, before she continued; "We would ask only that those who wish to have their families shelter here contribute further to the keep supplies, as the castle is only prepared for its current garrison to survive a long siege, they might also have to forgive the lack of comforts, Dragonstone was not built a palace." The latter point was made in half-jest, although it probably would have to be repeated more seriously to a few of the more dotted upon children of the lords present.

"Volantis has long envied our dragons, I believe we might win them over with the promise of aid from Targaryen dragon riders once this matter has been settled, and they are no friends of the Daughters as it is, nor will the Braavosi have much love lost with them. For each enemy my husband has made in Essoss, there are those who miss his challenge to the Triarchy, the traitor will no doubt court the latter, and Dorne, so yes, I do agree, we shall call East for allies as well." She nodded to her goodfather; "Ships and messengers will suffice in that regard for now, I am hesitant to commit any dragon to such a far flung goal at this juncture."

Corlys nodded, "I will have missives sent to the bannermen extending your offer, and will tell them to bring men and equipment to help fortify the fortress and provisions to supply it. I agree we need not send dragons. The Great Lords are far more vital. But I have many friends in the East, I can write letters and drum up support for the idea of alliance. Hopefully that will suffice. I believe we should also send out more messages to the free companies and corsair fleets. I'm expecting an answer from the Company of the Rose and Captain Saan soon, and we need as many fighting men as we can get." 

This next matter would be far more sensitive. He had managed to work well with Rhaenyra up to this point. He prayed she would continue to be willing to listen, "Before we discuss the coronation and the official bestowment of honors or titles, I feel it best to bring another matter before this council." He paused to look at each man and woman, steeling himself for whatever reaction may come. 

"I believe it is in our best interest, once we have gathered our allies and raised our fleets and armies, to offer terms of peace to your half-brother," Corlys kept speaking over the lords who opened their mouths to interrupt, "it is likely that this coup was not his idea. He was never one for ambition as you well know. It is far likely this is the work of his mother, and the Hand. We need to build our forces, but war can still be avoided. Dragon has not quarreled with dragon for over a hundred years, and the last time they did, the realm burned. If we go to war with Aegon, thousands will die for a certainty. Men, women, children. Villages and holdfasts will burn. It will bring untold ruin, destruction, and death to our lands." 

Corlys stared right into Rhaenyra's eyes, "Even in our victory, it would exact a terrible cost. Winter is fast approaching. War will mean burned harvests, ruined shelters, depleted treasuries. Even more will die in the aftermath. With Dorne to the South and the Three Daughters across the sea, we cannot afford for the Kingdom to be laid low. War will mean that your sons, my grandchildren will need to fight on the frontlines if we have any hope to survive. And I will do everything in my power to avoid sending Jace or Baela or Luke off to battle." 

"Good daughter, for the love you bear me, at least consider it. Once we have treated with our potential allies and built our forces, let us call for a summit. Let the family come together to discuss terms of peace. We can allow Aegon and his family to live if they bend the knee. Aegon and Aemond may be blackguards, but they are still blood. And Helaena and Daeron have done no harm. If we want you to rule, we should avoid doing so by spilling sibling's blood. There are none as accursed as the kinslayer. Prove to the realm you are better than your brother, and let your reign be one of peace and prosperity. My queen. We have all lost family, too many already. Let us not lose any more." 

For the moment Rhaenyra turned away from the assembled lords, and most pressingly, Corlys. For the first time since the meeting had begun her fingers danced across the rings upon her hands, turning them ever so slightly. A nervous tick she had developed and conquered in all but the most emotive of situations. This was one of them.

It was a request that pulled at her very soul, made all the worse by whom it was from. Corlys was far too familiar and close to the Queen for him to not know what he asked of her, but in its own way, that only further expressed why it truly needed to be said. In the end, Rhaenyra relented with a sigh, before turning back to her council.

"My half-brother's treachery has already cost myself, and more importantly, the realm, much. A proper farewell to my father, who ruled us with grace and ability for so long, the sundering of our noble families, and the life of my child." Her tone was stern, as was her gaze, refusing to budge from eye contact with her good-father, but eventually her tone softened, even if she remained steadfast.

"But still, while war may seem inevitable, my half-brother and his kin will be given the opportunity to bend the knee, return my crown. The lords who support them may keep their seats, as to the traitors themselves...while it may pain me to forgive, punishment can be metted out without the cost of their lives." 

Corlys looked right back at Rhaenyra and nodded in silent thanks, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He loved her as a daughter with all his heart, ever since she was a girl, it pained him to see her so conflicted and pressured. She didn't deserve this. And he needed to do everything he could to see her and the children through it alive. War may have had survivors, but no true winners. This peace was not for Aegon's sake. It was for Rhaenyra, for the children. 

"Thank you, Rhaenyra. Sometimes mercy is the most difficult thing to give, but I believe in this case it is the right thing. Once we have solidified our position, we can approach your half-brother via a missive to arrange a meeting." 

Daemon had listened to the appeal and the cool interchange with a jaw so tight he felt about to gnash his teeth to splinters. "Make no mistake. They will have but one chance to put right the crown they have stolen and should they fail to take it. Burn they will. Burn they must for it is they that have passed their own sentence. Corlys, say what you will of kinslaying but we speak here of treason." His knuckles whitened as he fought to keep himself cool. Corlys was about to open his mouth in reply, seeking to calm his ever tempermental friend. 

Just then there was a knock at the door and Ser Errk and Ser Lorent both reached towards the hilts of their sword when Ser Erryk opened it. A servant appeared with a man garbed in a travelling cloak at his side. The serving man bowed his head, "'Begging your pardons m'lords, your grace. This ser said he had urgent matters to discuss with you." 

The man removed his hood and Lord Corlys smiled as he beheld Ser Steffon Darklyn in the door, his white armor and cloak hidden beneath the disguise. He had no weapons on and he kneeled before the table, directly across from Rhaenyra. 

He kept his eyes toward the floor and said, "My queen. I apologize for my tardiness. But it was difficult to arrange safe passage from the capital with so many of the Clubfoot's spies and cutthroats about. I managed to escape with my squire, and a number of men loyal to your cause." 

"I came to give you what belongs to you by right." He reached into the cloak and removed a magnificent gold crown, adorned with gems after the seven colors of the rainbow. He held it up above his head, "The crown your father wore, and the Old King before him. Your half-brother took the Conqeuror's crown, but this is your birthright. I humbly request you allow me to stand at your side, as a member of your Queensguard." All eyes turned to Rhaenyra as Steffon held the crown above him. 

Silence reigned in the Queen's hall for many long moments as she beheld the sight before her, hands stilled from their movement across her rings, her eyes torn from Lord Velaryon. Slowly, she circumvented the table, the pains of her body forgotten for the moment as she approached the kneeling knight.

The rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms appeared almost struck with awe at the sight of the crown she had seen countless times before, and with only tentative hands, she took it from the Darklyn's outstretch hands. Still without noise, she turned it over in her hands, before finally, she looked to the knight who had brought the crown to her.

"Ser, you have done your Queen a great service, far beyond duty, on this day of few joys. It would be my most earnest wish for you to stand as one of my Queensguard." With that she placed a hand on his shoulder, before bidding him stand.

"It seems fortune already turns in our favour."

Ser Steffon bowed his head in reverent thanks and stood, taking off the robe entirely, which the servant took, and standing tall in white armor. The three Queensguard knights now stood near their Queen, steadfast and loyal. 

Corlys beamed and said, "The gods send us a favorable sign. Rhaenyra is the one true Queen. I will send for a Maester from Driftmark immediately so you can embark on your visit to the Vale after the coronation. We can hold it at your pleasure, my queen, but I believe the sooner the better. Other bannermen will likely be here tomorrow, the companies who might fight for us. We can proclaim your divine right before them all." 

He stood and stepped away from the table. Rhaenys sensed his intention and followed. Corlys stood in front of his good daughter and said, "At your coronation, I will swear my fealty to you for all to see. But I will swear to you now." 

He knelt before Rhaenyra, bending the knee and drawing his sword to rest before him, staring up at the girl he had watched grow from a princess to a queen. He said the words, "For centuries, a Targaryen king has had a Velaryon to stand with them. Today, House Velaryon stands with you, our queen. My heart is yours, my sword is yours, my life is yours. I will stand with you, good daughter, now and always. I swear it by fire and blood." Rhaenys took out her own sword and recited her own oath, and soon all the other lords followed, until all of Rhaenyra's first supporters now knelt before her. 

Corlys looked up at Rhaenyra again, firm resolve in his eyes, "I am old. Clinging to life like a drowning sailor clinging to the wreckage of a sunken ship. But I will do everything in my power to see you sit the Iron Throne, where your father sat. I should be dead already, but mayhaps the Seven have preserved me for this one last fight." 

He'd watched the exchange enraptured but at Corlys' prompting, he too knelt before his wife as he'd knelt beside her on their wedding day. "My love, my Queen, I have already pledged to you all that I have, all that I am. Take it as given that I will pledge all that I might do or that you would have me do in honour of your radiance and splendour. In the name of our marriage, our sons, and in the memory of our daughter whom our enemies all but killed inside you." He kissed her ring.

As the first of Rhaenyra's lords kneeled before her, spurred on by the one closest to her heart, the new Queen felt the pain of the day fade, grief still plagued her heart and pain her body, but filled with justice, and moved by the love and loyalty of the men before her, pride returned to the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She made her way back to her place at the head of the table, passing the lords as they continued to kneel, her hand brushing across the shoulders of Rhaenys, then her sons, who had followed the motion of the assembled lords. Finally, she stopped for a moment, beside Corlys, her hand clasping him with greater force, the eyes of the Queen on the kneeling lord.

"If the Gods have seen fit to bless me with a champion such as you, at any age, then it must be true that they wish me to rule. I will pray that you are not simply among us to win a war, but to enjoy the new peace we forge." She smiled, if only briefly, before taking the final steps to her proper place, no longer at the head of the table, but a few further steps, to the raised floor overlooking the view of the Sea.

As she did so, her son, Jace, stood, drawing his blade in a salute, titled towards the Queen. "All hail her grace, Rhaenyra Targaryen, first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Lady of the Six Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." As the rest stood to mirror the Prince, the form of Syrax swooped past the view of the storm wracked sea. The collossal dragon let our a roar that trembled even through the stone and rock of Dragonstone, and was soon joined by the only marginally more distant roar of other dragons.

Sweeping across the landscape of the harsh island that had born the heirs of Valyria since the doom, yet more draonic throats gave rise to roars of salute, tamed and wild dragon alike adding their song to the cry of Syrax. Across island, storm and sea, the song of an empire turned to dust, of conquerors and a Queen spurned.

Even in King's Landing they would hear it, the distant rumble, a storm of vengeance.

--

The next day, the sun rose high above the island of Dragonstone and the ever-growing flotilla that now surrounded it. More ships had arrived since the first meeting of the Black Council. The seven white stars of Sunglass, the lamb and chalice of Stokeworth, the red chevrons of Rosby, and the devices of Crackclaw Houses like House Crabb and House Brune flew on sails and banners next to the fleet already assembled. The bannermen had brought all their ships, a great number of their soldiers, a portion of their coin, and their families. 

Corlys watched the ships now at anchor in Dragonstone. Better than he feared, worse than he hoped. No houses from other kingdoms had appeared yet, and Corlys suspected they wouldn't until conditions were more favorable for potential sympathizers. And though they had most of the direct vassals to the Iron Throne on their side, it seemed many still sided with the greens or were remaining neutral. 

Houses Bywater, Hayford, and Thorne were noticably absent. As were the Cargylls and Blounts. Around a dozen houses had pledged to Rhaenyra. There were perhaps a few thousand men now here on Dragonstone. More on Driftmark, but still too few. Far too few. The riders needed to succeed. They needed more men. Or Rhaenyra's reign would be short lived. 

Corlys put it out of his mind for the moment. Several companies and sellsail fleets had accepted his offer and were now en route to the island. That would be another few thousand fighting men and scores more ships. Corlys was certain Lady Arryn would declare for them. With even one Great House lending its support, more of the noble families would be inclined to support them. Things were looking up. Corlys just had to do his best to make sure they stayed that way. 

Some more members of his house had come to attend the coronation, but his advisors remained to administer the island and see to the army and navy. Most of the blacks may have been gathering on Dragonstone, but it was from Driftmark that the main thrust of the fleet would launch. Corlys knew that every ship setting out to sea would be loaded with squadrons of archers and bristling with scorpions in order to ward off dragon riders. They would have nearly no chance of actually downing a dragon with them, but riders were much less hardier and much more wary of being skewered. Without their own rider to cover the fleet, it would have to do. 

He watched as one of the wild dragons, the one they called Silverwing, flew overhead and winged towards some other distant part of the island. The locals made no reaction at all but almost all of the new arrivals either looked on in awe or ducked their heads in fear. Corlys smiled. He remembered the first time he ever saw a dragon, as a young boy when his father brought him to visit Dragonstone. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, unmatched by all the wonders of the world he would discover in his many journeys. He always wondered what it would be like to ride one, to fly. 

Some part of him considered trying to bond with a dragon. His wife was a rider. Both of his children had been. Almost all of his grandchildren were. But not him. Perhaps he could try it. Could try matching wills against one of the dragons. But he knew it was folly. He was too old, and would have been useless as a rider anyway. Besides, the sea would always be his first love. He was a sailor. Not a dragon rider. 

Not that it would stop a few of his kin from trying. The call had been placed out and seeds were being approached to try mounting the wild dragons. A dozen candidates so far. Most of them were either members of the infantry or the fleet, men sworn to House Targaryen or Velaryon. One of the Celtigars wanted to try his hand as well, reasoning his Valyrian blood would allow him to bond with a dragon. No member of their house had ever been a rider, and the young man was eager to be the first. 

For now he was the first highborn to be considered, and rightly so to Corlys' mind. They didn't need their noble supporters being burnt to crisps. Corlys wouldn't allow any attempts until after the coronation and the departure of the riders at any rate. Today was a day for Rhaenyra's glory. He wouldn't have it marred by deaths. 

Corlys turned back to the business at hand, smiling and waving at the crowds with his granddaughter Rhaena and grandnephews, Aegon and Viserys at his side and an entourage of Velaryon men and women behind him. The royal children were garbed in black and crimson velvet while the Sea Snake wore a fine ceremonial set of turqouise gilded steel, a white cape draped over one shoulder and a glittering seahorse-pommeled sword at his hip. He walked with the vigor of a younger man, not betraying his age in the slightest. The Seahorse of his family sigil was worked into the breastplate, staring outward with eyes of white diamond.  

The courtyard of Dragonstone had been given over to ceremony. The banners of House Targaryen had flown from the battlements for centuries, but now they were multiplied in full, and joined by banners bearing the personal device of Rhaenyra, quartered with the sigils of both House Velaryon and Arryn. The main gate had been thrown open and the path up from the port right to the very steps of the keep prepared, flanked by men-at-arms of all those houses present, along with further hallmarks of the Queen-to-be. Crowds gathered along the path, growing in import and affluence further up the hill, with the lords, ladies and wealthy citizens already sworn to Rhaenyra gathered in the courtyard itself.

While the procession of the faith began at the port itself, the standing members of the Queensguard, Septons and Septas and other such castallens of Dragonstone and Royalty, the royal party itself was absent. Still the crowds cheered the heroes of the Guard, and made solemn reverence towards those of the faith deemed pious and respected enough to mark the ascension of the new Queen. Despite this, all eyes searched for the notable absences of the Queen and her family, even as the procession approached the keep.

It was the booming roar of Syrax, followed by a crescendo of other roars, that heralded the arrival of Rhaenyra and her closest kin. Diving from behind the cover of Dragonstone peak, multitude of dragons upon the isle came into view, swooping low over the barren moors of the island. For many it was the closest they would ever come to the great beasts, flying just high enough so as to not displace those below, they swung over the port, Syrax still at the head of the wing, before climbing into the air above the path to the keep. Mirroring the course of the ground procession, the dragon riders were joined by several smaller wild dragons, mirroring their larger, tamed, kin, as the apex predators were want to do.

Just as the procession of the faith entered the courtyard, the dragons descended, setting low and gently into the grand space to allow their riders to dismount and join those who had climbed the hill through more conventional means. Rhaenyra was the last to dismount, garbed in a regal gown of dark crimson, laced with black thread. While the gown itself, and the train which followed her, may have spoken of grace and beauty, the finely crafted breastplate of dark iron, marked with the sigil of her house, the eyes of the dragons formed from rubies, added a martial feel, despite its ceremonial function. The Queen's presence was met with great cheer, those who had not shouted themselves hoarse at the very sight of the dragons.

With that, Rhaenyra began to take the final part of her journey, up to the steps of the keep, where sat the crown of her father, sat upon a dias of obsidian.

As the dragons soared high above them, Daemon was a boy again. Full of wonder and awe. His wife- thicker of body than she'd been but with the same captivating eyes that had looked at him so dolefully when he'd had her maidenhead at four and ten, was nothing short of resplendent as she ascended the dais where he awaited her. He wore a ruby-encrusted enamalled breastplate with the red Targaryen dragon twinkling in defiance of the murky skies.  The clamour of the crowded masses drowned out even the crashing waves as he took her hand in his. Warm. A bitter autumn day yet her hands were always warm. 

The ceremony itself was a blur. The Septon made concessions to the Mother and Father, Maiden and Crone, The Warrior and Smith and Stranger too. There was a whole passage read in High Valyrian that he could follow only snatches of from his studies as a child- some forty and more years past- though he was passing surprised this Westerosi Septon had such a command of his families' ancient tongue. 

At long length, the time came for his to stand and plant the crown gently upon his queen's head. His whole life he'd chased crowns, he thought. This would do though. This would do.

Rhaenyra's eyes met Daemon's for a brief moment, a pause of calm among the hectic spleandor of the coronation. There, for the blink of an eye, she smiled at him, a sweet, personal turn of the lips, and for a moment, she was a girl again, the pain of the last few days cast away. Just for him, that moment, and then she knelt.

The crown was placed atop her head, her father's crown, her [i]rightful[/i] crown. She paused before standing, if only to experience the feel of it atop her, and then she arose, turning to face the crowd, and outwardly, the realm she would rule.

Once again, it was her son, Jace, who first took up the cry, a cry that echoed across the rockface of Dragonstone.

"All Hail Queen Rhaenyra, Long may she reign!"

There was a uniform clash of metal as the men-at-arms of her sworn house turned as one to salute, even above the cheer of the crowd. Rhaenyra did not waver through the noise, did not let undue jubilation cross her features. The war was still to come, and she would not let the grief of her recent days pass, even at this moment of triumph. Still, she allowed a few more moments of noise, before she waved one hand, silencing those close enough to see her, for her to speak.

"My lords, ladies and people of the realm. Your loyalty moves me, it is through your trust in me, that we shall meet out justice against the traitors who would subdue the realm, and cast aside the will of my late father." She paused before continuing, her tone was strong and without warmth, this was a fire of vengeance, not passion. "The Usurpers have had their time to plot against myself and the realm, but no matter how long it may hide in the shadows, the snake can never overcome the dragon. Just as in days long past, the dragon shall have three heads. My husband, King Daemon, I name Protector of the Realm in my stead, may he bring to account those who have committed crimes against us."

Once more she paused for the reaction to her proclamation. This, she had not forwarned her husband of, while it changed little in regards to their plans, it was at least some formal recognition of the trials he would go through in her name.

Corlys took up the cheer with all the others, clapping Daemon on the back and applauding. Daemon may have had a dark reputation, but he was Corlys' best friend. And a great man, to the people of Dragonstone. All the fighting men, men who served under the Rogue Prince, cheered louder than any. 

"My good-father was among the first lords to heed my call, and has long been a noble ally of my husband, and was a loyal servant of my father. He has done much in a long life of great deeds and ability, but the crown still has need of him. Lord Corlys Velaryon shall serve as Hand of the Queen, as befits our most able lord." As Rhaenyra spoke, her exterior remained stern, she did not offer Corlys the smile she wished to give him, instead she was still as the Septon of Dragonstone moved to present Corlys with the chain of his new office.

Corlys expected this honor, but it still warmed his heart to be presented with the chain. He lowered his head to allow the Septon to drape the chain over his neck and all the Driftmark men and women cheered. He smiled at the crowds and squeezed Rhaenys' hand before bowing his head to Rhaenyra, "You honor me my queen. There is none that I would be prouder to serve." 

With the ceremony concluded, the crowd once more returned to cheer, proclaiming the glory and longevity of the new Queen, even if such a thing may currently hang in the balance. It was difficult to grasp how tenuous Rhaenyra postion was, with dragons perched all around and wine flowing freely for the local people. But even as the coronation was being celebrated, the riders loyal to the new queen were preparing to leave with their given tasks. The calm before the storm would not last forever.

-