Chapter 17: Sea Dragon

Viserra

Fifth Moon, 89 AC

The storm had delayed them. Viserra felt the wind blowing through her hair and the rain lashing onto her cheeks. Her father and brothers had laid their dragons down near Greenstone Castle but Viserra had chosen to land Dreamfyre near the port. Near the men of her house.

The Velaryon fleet had moored near Estermont, receiving its last supplies from skiffs rowing from the jetty as they waited for the storm to pass. Everywhere she looked, the Velaryon seahorse proudly flew, prancing on the sails and standards of every ship and adorning the banners carried by the sergeants of the Driftmark Marines.

With each step she took, men bowed to her. 'Princess' some called her, but many and more called her 'Lady Velaryon' as well. There was not a soul in the fleet that would not recognize her. They all knew who she was. She was the Targaryen princess that had given their lord dragons and cherished sons and heirs. Her baby boys, not even five moons old and growing more adorable by the day, were already near worshipped by the Velaryon servants and men at arms.

Her sons were Driftmark's pride. 'Lord Corlys's boys will be dragonriders,' they said with glee and joy. Even now, the devotion of the people of Driftmark to her husband and his family still astounded Viserra. At times it reminded her of the welcome that would greet her parents on their progresses throughout the realm.

Viserra had made a decent impression on the people of Driftmark during her time as Lady of the Tides, but the birth of her sons had been what had ultimately truly endeared her to them. And when it had become known that she was accompanying Driftmark's fleet for the sole purpose of protecting its sailors from the Dornish, her popularity and esteem in Driftmark had only grown. Especially when rumors spread that she did so against the desires of her kingly father.

Like she herself had realized, she was now seen as a Velaryon. By everyone, not just Driftmark. The realm as a whole now considered her a Velaryon first and a Targaryen second.

She found Corlys in the small residence he had claimed for them both near the pier. The Tide Guard stood proudly around the small house, complemented by a platoon of marines. All of them bowed their heads to her in respect as she strode past them into the house. The storm had started to subside by now, and the light of the sun had begun to peek through the clouds.

Corlys was reading a missive when she entered. "Your father has ordered that the fleet set off as soon as the storm subsides. There are concerns that the delay may have allowed the Dornish to land troops on some of the isles. We will make for the fort on Bloodstone first to regroup before dispersing throughout the Stepstones and clear out any interlopers as we secure each island. Men from the Stormlands have been levied to provide reinforcements for our marines as we garrison the islands and the fleet will have the task of shipping them over from Cape Wrath."

"Did my father say when he will be meeting us?" Viserra asked.

"The King has informed me that he and your brothers will be flying to Bloodstone on the morrow. They have things to attend to first in the Stormlands and the King is confident that the Velaryon fleet will not face any difficulties making it to Bloodstone on its own before then."

Viserra clenched her fists in barely suppressed anger. Her assumptions had been correct. Her father and brothers' priority was not the safety of her husband and his fleet. She didn't know what was. The defeat of Dorne, or rather their personal glory from it? A night of comfort in warm beds in a castle instead of out riding and patrolling?

Her father's words were technically correct. It was not likely that Morion's fleet had bypassed the Velaryon squadrons already patrolling around Bloodstone to threaten Corlys's fleet, but that was not the point. The dragons were supposed to accompany the fleet, not leave it to sail alone so their riders could enjoy the fruitful hospitality of House Estermont just a day longer!

No matter, she thought as she shook her head. She would accompany the fleet, as she had promised. "When do we leave?" she asked.

"You intend to come with the fleet already?" Corlys asked. There was surprise in his voice, hidden, but Viserra could still hear it.

She bit down her hurt. Did he truly still doubt her so? "I made a promise didn't I? I'm here to protect you and our fleet, so that you and every man on those ships can return home to your families. To our sons. I will not leave you."

Corlys looked a bit ashamed now. "I had thought that you might..." he trailed off.

"Yes?" Viserra hummed impatiently, her eyes watching him carefully.

He shook his head. "Never mind. It is no matter. We leave at midday. The storm is already relenting and I am sure the clouds will have dispersed by then. I will see you later Viserra," he said, a little too quickly for her liking, before he left.

Viserra sighed as she sat down. Deep down, did some part of him still see her as only a vapid and vain girl? Or was he merely surprised at how willing she was to sacrifice comfort and luxury? Viserra had to confess, she found herself wondering that at times herself. She had been horrified when she had learned just how bad life in war camps could be, and of the utter lack of most luxuries when at war. And yet she had still refused to back down in her insistence on going, even when her father had asked her to reconsider. Why?

Viserra knew she was vain. She was self-aware enough to see that. For all of Corlys's insistence that it was merely a mask she had worn to make herself feel important and relevant at court and in her family, Viserra knew better. She genuinely took immense pride in her status, her rank, and in her beauty, to the point of arrogance many had said in the past, and still did, even if she thought she might have improved.

The person she was four or five years ago, would never have even considered doing half the things Viserra had done since then. She would not have deigned to personally tend to Dreamfyre and shovel her droppings, nor speak to the smallfolk and learn their worries and complaints, nor eagerly sacrifice her safety and comfort to wage war.

So what had changed? Perhaps Corlys was right in what he had told her all so long ago, atop the highest tower in High Tide. Had she, somehow along the way, learned to truly care about others like Corlys had claimed? But how? And why?

She felt herself sinking deeper into her seat, her mind hard at work as she reflected on her life, trying to find the cause of it all before her eyes widened slightly in realization. Oh. Well that made a lot of sense didn't it? In truth it was Corlys himself that had inspired her to change.

When they had met, she had been vain and immature. She had been recently forced to grow up and rein in her vain and mischievous behavior to escape the fate of Saera, but she hadn't changed, not in truth. It was just another layer she had added to her mask. Corlys Velaryon, and the stories of his adventures and the riches of his fabled island, had been the path she had chosen to try and escape it all, all of her doubts and insecurities and vanities, and he had seen right through her.

And yet, he had not rejected her. Corlys had listened and understood when no one else had or could. They had formed a friendship, borne out of the mutual advice and words of encouragement. As they befriended each other, Corlys had answered all of her questions about Driftmark, sating her curiosity and teaching her about their way of life, about his personal philosophies and wisdoms. In some way, he had begun even then to impart them to her as well. It had left an impression, a foundation for something more to be built.

The process was not fast. After all, it had still been her selfishness and her vain insecurities that had seen her claim Dreamfyre, out of an incorrect fear that the riches of Driftmark and the handsome Lord Corlys would be denied to her, the most beautiful and deserving princess. If she could make that choice again, Viserra still would every time. Dreamfyre was precious to her. But she would not justify it to herself with vain excuses now as she had back then.

Slowly but surely, somewhere along the way, Corlys's belief in her had changed her. His stories, questions and teachings, his guidance and remarks as he had shown her Driftmark and all its people, it had taught her how to care, or rather inspired within her, a subliminal desire to care, to live up to the potential he had seen in her. It had provoked first a vain attachment, then a caring compassion, and now love.

It was love that motivated her now, her love for her sons and for her husband, her love of Driftmark and its people and everything about it. Perhaps that is why it stung, to have the man she loved, the man that inspired her to become who she was now, to doubt her.

Viserra shook the thoughts away. She knew she was overthinking this. She looked out the window and noticed the rain had stopped. The clouds had dispersed as her husband had predicted. The sun had risen high in the sky. Viserra got to her feet. She had a promise to keep.

To her surprise, Corlys was waiting for her when she arrived, his hands gently stroking Dreamfyre, the blue dragoness having warmed to him over the past year as Viserra had taken him on many more rides as she had promised.

"I'm sorry about earlier…"

"It's fine," Viserra tried to brush him off.

He grabbed her hands gently. "No. It's not. I… I should not have... You have long since proven to me that you are more than just a spoilt princess. Sometimes you remind me just how much. Do not fret, I always knew you were more than that, but I think both you and I can agree that a year ago, neither of us would have thought you willing to forego the luxuries and comfort you so love to wage war. I am not saying that I would think of you any less if you had chosen to stay. It's just, it is a bit hard to wrap our heads around it isn't it?" he said with a cautious smile.

Viserra smiled tightly. "Indeed."

Corlys's smile vanished as he turned somber. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. You can fly with your family tomorrow."

At the angry look on her face, he hurriedly continued on, "I just don't want to make you feel that you are pressured into doing anything. And above all I want you safe. Your father might say war is not for women, and you might fear I think you an insipid girl who cannot sacrifice luxury but that is not what I think at all. I care about your comfort and your safety first and foremost. I don't want you in danger and I don't want you to have to ever have to live with anything less than the highest and greatest comfort and luxury possible. You have proven that you deserve no less than that."

Viserra relented in her anger but she remained steadfast. "Luxury and riches, the safety of peace, and the comfort of our sons in my arms and the white walls of High Tide shielding us; they are all good and wonderful and I will be sure to enjoy them again very soon. But here and now my love, nothing gives me more comfort than to know I am ensuring your safety with my very own hands. Nothing makes me feel safer than knowing your fleet, our fleet, is there to watch my back.

"We can't always have it all our way right? We can't always live in peace and luxury. Sometimes you have to be willing to get your hands dirty and sacrifice the comforts of life now so that you and yours may enjoy them forever more later. You taught me that. Have you forgotten?"

Corlys shook his head as they both remembered long lessons in days spent together as they ruled Driftmark in peace. "No."

"Then trust in me. Trust that I will be safe. That I will come out well from all of this and we will celebrate our victory, together."

He nodded then, determination on his face. "Be careful."

Viserra grinned before she adjusted her hair into the usual braided ponytail she wore it in when she flew. "I always am."

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too."

Corlys looked like he wanted to say more but thought against it. With a nod he turned around and left, leaving Viserra with her dragon.

As she saddled Dreamfyre and readied her for flight, she watched as the Velaryon fleet, which had been waiting for Corlys, began to move. Their sails unfurled, the carracks began to tack with the wind and oars emerged from the war galleys in the fleet to row. The Velaryon fleet was going to war.

The fleet had all unanchored and set sail when she mounted her dragon. The sun's light glimmered off of Dreamfyre, and her aquamarine scales glowed. Her silver crests and markings shone brightly as they reflected the light.

"Dohaerās Dreamfyre," Viserra said as she climbed onto her dragon. At times her thoughts alone seemed to be enough to command her dragon, but she would not be trusting in that, not today. Whip and words would have to do. Gently, she lashed the whip toward Dreamfyre's side and gave one last command. "Sōvēs!"

With a beat of her large pale blue wings, Dreamfyre surged forward on her legs before she climbed into the sky.

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Viserra would never admit it out loud, but her father might have had a point. After flying for hours with no enemy in sight and nothing but open sea and clouds, Viserra found herself tired and bored. The ships in the Velaryon fleet were among the fastest in the world, but even they were like snails to Dreamfyre whose speed was surpassed only by Meleys and perhaps Silverwing among the dragons.

As a result, Viserra had no choice but to restrain Dreamfyre from flying too fast and outpacing their fleet lest they circle back over and over again. It made for a rather boring flight. Of course, she had attempted to entertain herself at first, soaring high into the clouds doing aerial maneuvers that would have made Corlys cry if he was riding with her. She had even skirted the waves and let Dreamfyre dip her wing tips and legs in the water, feeling the sea spray on her face before climbing into the sky again.

However even that lost its appeal after a long enough time. Serving as escort to a fleet was a boring task for both dragon and rider. She could sense Dreamfyre's annoyance with their slow pace, the dragon wishing to fly at her maximum speed rather than this lethargic half-hearted flight.

Viserra found herself wishing for something interesting to happen. Anything at all to cut away from the boredom. Perhaps a pod of whales might be spotted on the horizon? And then she'd have to restrain Dreamfyre from going after them she thought, chuckling to herself a little. Perhaps a patrol from Bloodstone would finally show up?

She scratched at her back, feeling the annoying itch creep up on her again. Viserra had never flown so long before and it was starting to take its toll on her, especially due to the chainmail and boiled leather armour she was wearing, on the insistence of all of her family members. It was not uncomfortable at first, but spend hours in it, and it became extremely tiresome to keep wearing it.

The sun was close to the horizon. In an hour at most it would be setting. It had been part of the reason Corlys had hoped she would fly on the morrow instead. The fleet was expecting to sail through the night. Compasses, stars, and the relatively short distance would keep them on course.

If Viserra insisted on remaining with the fleet however, she'd have to continue flying for hours more guarding them. When she knew full well Dreamfyre could make it to Bloodstone before sunset, that made it all the more unappealing. She might just end up flying by Corlys's ship and shout her intention to go ahead, regardless of her previous determination.

Still, she had made an oath to her husband that she would guard their fleet. Viserra would do her best to keep that oath, even if she knew her husband would not mind if she ended up speeding on ahead to Bloodstone. It was a matter of principle and pride to her.

Finally, Viserra spotted something at last. A ship in the distance toward the south. Unable to restrain her excitement at something interesting happening, Viserra urged Dreamfyre to full speed with a crack of her whip and a shouted command. Was it a patrol from Bloodstone? Perhaps a fishing boat? Or perhaps even most excitingly, a stray Dornish scout ship?

As soon as she neared however, Viserra found herself remembering why it was said that one should be careful what they wish for. That was not just a single ship, and the massive fleet she found facing her was not friendly either. The Martell sun and spear was the most notable of the many Dornish sigils emblazoned on their sails.

She heard shouted cries of alarm before a volley of scorpion bolts launched toward her and Dreamfyre. She took Dreamfyre into a spin as they barreled forward before climbing into the sky. What bolts they didn't dodge failed to pierce Dreamfyre's scales. There was little respite however before a hail of arrows shot into the sky, most of them bounced harmlessly off of Dreamfyre, but Viserra flinched as several flew dangerously close to her.

Taking her dragon high into the clouds, Viserra steered Dreamfyre into a hard right turn before hurriedly rushing back to the Velaryon fleet. Dreamfyre set herself down on the water beside Corlys's flagship with a crash, the large dragon none too pleased with a landing on the sea. The sea water steamed off from the heat of her body, a salty spray rose as Viserra shouted to Corlys.

"The Dornish fleet is here! They're coming from the south, look to the horizon!" she shouted.

"So far north? How did the patrols from Bloodstone not spot them?" one of Corlys's midshipmen said.

"The storm that hit us at Estermont could have blown through the Stepstones first and disrupted the patrols!" Corlys replied logically.

That made sense, Viserra thought to herself. "It doesn't really matter how they slipped by our patrols, what matters is that they are here now!"

Corlys understood what she meant. "Alert the fleet! We man our posts and prepare for battle!" he shouted out orders to his crew before he walked over to the edge of his ship deck, leaning over as far as he could to speak to Viserra in private… well as private as it could get when they were almost shouting across the distance.

"Viserra. You can do this," he said.

She nodded. Emboldened by the encouragement, she shouted a command at Dreamfyre again and with a lash of her whip, Dreamfyre swam forward before launching herself into the sky with a furious flap of her massive wings and a strong kick of her legs.

In Viserra's experience, dragons hated landing on the sea. The cold seawater would cool their scales and taking off without a proper running start required more energy than usual. Luckily, Dreamfyre and her had had a rather quiet day until now and with their leisurely flying earlier, Dreamfyre had strength to spare. A lot of it.

Still, she noted to herself in her mind the need to develop a better method of communication between her and the fleet when she was on dragonback. Landing on the sea to speak in person was inefficient and potentially dangerous. If she did not tightly control Dreamfyre's landings, she could capsize the ships.

As the Dornish fleet continued to make for them at full speed, Viserra idly wondered if the Dornish were extraordinarily brave or simply fools. If she was a sailor on that ship and she had seen Dreamfyre in the skies, she'd have mutinied to turn the ship around.

But that was not what the Dornish did. While Corlys's fleet had moved into formation and waited for them to come to them, they continued charging headlong into their jaws. Viserra even spotted what she thought might be Morion Martell's flagship at the head of his fleet. An ornate ironwood hulled ship with three masts, bronzed and gilded, the Martell sigil proudly flying from all its standards, embossed on its sails.

"Rȳbās," Viserra lectured her dragon as she bayed in excitement. "Lykirī. Umbās."

Dreamfyre calmed at her command but Viserra could feel her impatience still. Her own nerves were all a-fray. Her muscles were tense and taut as she readied herself.

A more experienced dragonrider like her father would not have required a supporting fleet, but Viserra was not that confident in herself. Not yet. She was reluctant to admit it, but she had been spooked by the earlier volley of bolts and arrows Morion's fleet had sent at her. It had taken her completely by surprise. It was why she had chosen to remain near Corlys's fleet rather than go ahead to destroy Dorne's on her own.

The fear was gripping her. What if some lucky bolt pierced into Dreamfyre's eye like it had Meraxes? What if a stray arrow hit her and killed her? That was not unheard of either. She'd never see her sons again if that happened, or anyone else she loved and cared for.

For all the power Dreamfyre held, Viserra herself was no warrior. She had never fought a true battle. Once more she wondered why she had volunteered for this, insisted on being here. What was even the point, if she could not find the nerve?

She shook her head, steeling her grip on the reins. With a lash of her whip, she urged Dreamfyre to climb into the sky, her sister's words coming to her again then.

"If you ever have to attack with your dragon," Alyssa had said. "Attack from above. Dragons always attack from above."

When they reached the height Viserra wanted, Dreamfyre preempted her command, sensing her thoughts once again, like she often did. Folding her wings into her body, Dreamfyre dived onto Morion's fleet like a falcon onto its prey. All the while Viserra leaned forward, all but hugging her dragon as she clung on to her saddle, the chains perhaps the only thing keeping her in it.

The moment was nigh then. The fleet was below them and fast approaching. Viserra had to say but one word and the world would be lit in fire.

"Dracarys."

In hindsight, Viserra wondered why she had feared so much. In an instant, azure-aquamarine flames burst from Dreamfyre's maw, igniting the entire front line of the Dornish fleet instantly. To onlookers it looked as if the sky and sea itself had turned into a fire that destroyed ships and men with ease.

The smell of salty steam filled the air but it was not alone. The scent of charred and smoking wood accompanied it, as did a strange odor of pork. The stench of burning flesh as men cooked alive in the heat.

Completely freed of her fear, Viserra took Dreamfyre into a hard left turn, laying waste to the flanks of Morion's fleet and encircling them in a wall of burning ships. There would be no escape for Dorne here.

Below her, men burned and died by the hundreds, if not thousands. All because of her. Viserra could not find it within herself to care. She did not know these men, did not know their faces. She did not hear their dying screams or their last words, for she was too high up to hear or care. Up in the sky, there was only the silence, the silence of the death that Viserra would bring upon the Dornish, no, upon any enemy that would dare to try and hurt her and hers.

She had come far indeed, from a girl whose life was once dictated by those around her to a woman who now held the lives of thousands in the palm of her hands. It was power like Viserra had never felt or experienced before. It was intoxicating. She felt herself growing heady, as if she had drunk too many cups of brandy.

Grounding herself in the moment, Viserra shook away those thoughts, though they remained present in the back corners of her mind. It was time to finish the job. She brought Dreamfyre down again and this time before she could even give the command for dragonfire, Dreamfyre was eagerly bellowing out a column of pale blue flames, bathing the encircled remnants of the Dornish fleet in azure agony.

Thousands died screaming as Viserra once more demonstrated the power of Dreamfyre. A part of her felt somber about the loss of life, another relished in it, felt vindicated by it. These men had dared to come and try and steal her sons' birthright from them. They would have tried to kill her husband and all the men of Driftmark if they could. Men Viserra had sworn to protect. It was her duty as the Lady of the Tides to protect her husband, her people, and her soldiers. Protect them she did.

Dreamfyre roared triumphantly as the last ship was set aflame as she circled around the destruction to continue onward to Bloodstone. With their task done, both of them were no longer willing to wait around at a snail's pace. Dreamfyre flew at full speed and Viserra did not order her otherwise.

The Velaryon fleet had watched as their lady reduced the Dornish ships to charred ruin and driftwood. They burned throughout the night even after the sun had set, like candles on the sea. There was not a soul onboard that fleet that could tear their eyes away from the spectacle. When the fleet finally moored at Bloodstone later that night, they saw Viserra waiting to welcome them near the piers

A crowd began to gather before her, and Viserra saw awe, amazement, and even fear from the sailors and marines. Some even started kneeling to her.

"Hail our princess, our lady! Viserra the Sea Dragon!" a voice in the crowd shouted suddenly.

Viserra could not tell who started the chant, but soon enough the entire fleet was cheering her name, chanting their praises for 'the Sea Dragon'. She looked for Corlys in the crowd and found him smiling before he joined the cheers.

The Sea Snake and the Sea Dragon. What a pair they made.

Sixth Moon, 89 AC

In the end, the fleet that Viserra had destroyed was confirmed as the main Dornish fleet. She still remembered with glee the shock and astonishment on her father and brothers' faces when they had learnt that she had personally destroyed the fool Morion and the bulk of his fleet. Served them right for their sloth.

Despite the defeat of the main Dornish fleet however, concerns that the Dornish had landed troops in the Stepstones had been proven true. It had taken a month to properly clear them and any remaining pirates out. Viserra had left most of that to her father and brothers, who seemed eager to gain glory for themselves in some way with her having already claimed the lion's share.

During that time, Viserra had remained on Bloodstone with Corlys, working to build and prepare the infrastructure and organization for their impending administration of the islands. Corlys had actually wished to remain for longer in fact to see to that, but their father had ordered them both back to King's Landing for the victory celebrations and neither of them had seen their sons in over a month.

They had stopped at Driftmark along the way to King's Landing to see their sons. It had only been about six weeks since she had seen them last, but they had already grown far more than she would expect. They had seemed happy to see her and Corlys, though Viserra wondered if they truly did recognize them.

Their hatchling dragons were still in the nursery as well, often coiling about them affectionately. The elder was a dark cobalt blue with bronze crest, claws, and belly scales. Its sibling was black and yellow. The scales on its back, head, legs, and the top side of its wings were as black as night, but its crest, claws, belly scales, and the underside of its wings were a shade of sulfurous and volcanic yellow.

 Both of the hatchlings were still unnamed, as most dragons were customarily named by their first rider. Though there were exceptions, Aemon and Rhaenys had not named Caraxes and Meleys, the Dragonkeepers had, Viserra had no intention of taking away her sons' right to name their own dragons.

The hatchlings in question were naught but five months old and they were already the size of a small dog. They were growing fast and Viserra dreaded the day she'd have to order them moved to the stables. The twins and their dragons alike would be quite upset at the separation.

As for her own dragon, Viserra had a feeling that she was preening. Dreamfyre had been in rather high spirits and seeming all too pleased with herself ever since what was now referred to as the Battle of Bloodstone (despite the fact it took place several miles away from the island in question and Viserra would hardly call it a battle, more a one-sided slaughter).

Was Dreamfyre pleased to have her first taste of war in decades mayhaps? To have shown off? Perhaps she was somehow proud of her new nickname? And yes Dreamfyre now had a nickname. As Viserra was now called 'the Sea Dragon', Dreamfyre had been dubbed the Blue Queen, by the Velaryon sailors. An epithet very much like Rhaenys's Meleys had, but Dreamfyre had earned it in battle.

The herald announced her father then and Viserra put aside her thoughts on her dragon for now. The ceremony was starting. All the court had gathered for the celebration. Viserra stood with Corlys and Aurane on the left side of the Iron Throne. Opposite her, her mother and siblings stood with the rest of the family to the king's right.

Her father climbed up the stairs of the Iron Throne before he turned around and stood in front of the seat, proudly making his proclamation to the whole court.

"My lords and my ladies, and to all my kin present here. I am sure that you have already heard the good news, but I would like to say it once more. Dorne has been defeated, and the foolish Prince Morion and his fleet lie at the bottom of the Narrow Sea!"

The King's announcement was met with an incredibly loud cheer and a thunderous applause. And it was no surprise. The Fourth Dornish War had lasted a month. It had been short and it had been a glorious victory. The Stepstones had been successfully secured and incorporated into the realm, and with barely any loss of life on their part as well. Only a few hundred brave men had had to give their lives valiantly in the pacification of the islands. Not even Aegon the Conqueror could boast of such small losses.

The vast majority of the losses had been on the side of the Dornish and their pirate and sellsail allies, even when the Velaryon fleet had been forced to clear out the islands. The dragons had proven their worth in cowering even the most recalcitrant of foes to bend the knee and by then news had spread of what Dorne was calling the Butchering at Bloodstone.

Many of Dorne's nobility had been onboard the fleet Viserra had destroyed, for Morion had been successful in rallying Dorne against the threat of a Targaryen and Velaryon ruled Stepstones. If there was a Butchering, there had to be a Butcher. Viserra had earned the enmity of all of Dorne for her actions. Not that she gave a damn what the Dornish thought of her.

Where Dorne despised her, King's Landing had welcomed her and all the other victors home with a riotous triumph. If there was one thing that united most Westerosi, especially the Reachers and Stormlanders, it was the agreement that the Dornish were raiding scum. The scars of the previous Dornish Wars ran deep and before them were millennia of bloodshed. Ancients wars and raids fought between Dorne and its neighbors.

Victory against the Dornish, in such a decisive and brutal way, had all of King's Landing and much of the realm cheering in triumph. Some had even begun to say that the loss of Queen Rhaenys in the First Dornish War had finally been avenged.

Her father calmed the cheering and applause with a mere wave of his hands. "I thank you for the applause my lords and ladies, but I am not done yet. This victory belongs not only to me but to the realm as a whole! And it would not be possible without the aid and contributions of many. My sons Prince Aemon and Prince Baelon both distinguished themselves admirably, and of course my daughter Princess Viserra destroyed Morion's fleet with her dragon. They are all deserving of your praise and applause!"

The applause and cheers continued then, though it was muted as the crowd sensed the King had more yet to say. They were proven right when he continued further.

"However in all those who have distinguished themselves, one house, one man even, stand out from the rest. The realm thanks House Velaryon and its lord, Lord Corlys, for their exemplary service and contribution to the war effort. Without their ships or their marines, this campaign would not have been possible. In fact, I have one more announcement to make pertaining to this. Lord Corlys, step forward."

Viserra watched eagerly. This was what they had been waiting for. Thrumming with anticipation and excitement, her husband walked out from his place beside her to stand before the Iron Throne.

"As you know my lord Velaryon, the Stepstones have been incorporated into the realm, but they cannot possibly be ruled directly from King's Landing. Someone must hold it for the Crown."

The entire court watched with bated breath. Allies and rivals of House Velaryon alike all believed they knew what was about to happen, the great boon that would elevate House Velaryon to the highest tide it had ever reached.

"In light of your house's and your own personal contributions to the war effort, your long years preparing for the conquest, your fleet's vital role in the defense and protection of the Narrow Sea, and your own sheer quality of character, your commendable service and honor, I can think of no other man I would rather have as my Royal Governor of the Stepstones."

The crowd started murmuring to each other then. Viserra was confused. Governor? She and no doubt most of the court had thought the title would be Lord Paramount, or even Lord at least. She was confused and she saw that Corlys was as well, though he had hidden it with a seemingly pleased smile that did not reach his eyes. Viserra was growing increasingly concerned. Governor was not a common title in Westerosi history but every time it had been used, it had always referred to a man who held a castle or province on behalf of his king, like a castellan but larger in responsibility. It was also always distinctly not hereditary… no, it could not be!

She turned her eyes back to the Iron Throne to see her father continue his speech. "That is not all my lord Corlys! For the rule and lordship of Bloodstone is yours, with all its attendant lands and incomes. You and your sons and grandsons, shall hold and enjoy that honor until the end of time. Bloodstone shall be your seat from which you hold the Stepstones in my name as governor."

The murmurs continued and Viserra knew why. The King had explicitly stated that Bloodstone would pass to Corlys's sons and grandsons, for all of time. No such statement had been made for the Stepstones as a whole.

Viserra wondered who else had realized what a farce this was. She turned her gaze to see her family looking either neutral or concerned. The Hightowers, Lannisters, Redwynes, and the rest of the ilk of the western bloc at court were gleeful while the Velaryons and their allies and kin looked outraged.

She turned her eyes on her husband then. His face still held that fake smile but in his eyes she saw the same realization she had in her own. Her father had betrayed them. Desperation and anger almost made Corlys explode in rage, but her husband controlled his temper enough to speak in his usual magnanimous voice.

"Your Grace, you… you honor me with your praise and your rewards. I do humbly accept these honors, the Lordship of Bloodstone and the Governorate of the Stepstones alike."

Her father smiled then, as he joined Corlys in putting on a show for the court. "Then kneel my lord, and make your oath of homage."

Viserra had no choice but to watch as Corlys swore the usual oaths of fealty anew for the fief of Bloodstone, and then with her father's aid in prompting, he swore a new oath for his role as Governor of the Stepstones. Every sentence hammered the nail deeper into the coffin of betrayal.

When her father gave the last vow for Corlys to swear, the silence in the court was so thick, Viserra could have heard a hairpin drop.

"Do you understand that the position of Governor is not hereditary, and that you serve at the pleasure of the King in whose name you rule the Stepstones on his behalf?"

The die had been cast. There was no going back. Her father had just confirmed before all the court that Corlys was not the true ruler of the Stepstones. He was the true owner and ruler of those islands, Corlys was merely his deputy, a governor who held it on his behalf and in his name.

A slight, an insult of the highest order! How dare he do this? How dare her father steal her husband's rightful and hard-earned reward, the inheritance that was promised to her sons, his own grandsons!? How could he do this to them, to her? Viserra was fuming, furious and hot with righteous anger.

"I do Your Grace," Corlys's voice cut through the silence and Viserra knew it was the most forced sentence she had ever heard him say. "I do hereby swear to serve you ably and loyally as Governor, and with the understanding that the Stepstones have been entrusted to me and me alone, not to my sons or their descendants."

"Then rise Corlys Velaryon. You knelt as the Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark, Warden of the Hook and Lord of Stonedance. Now you rise as the Governor of the Stepstones and the Lord of Bloodstone as well."

What choice did he have? What choice did any of them have? Viserra did not know but she did know that this? This wasn't over. She looked to her father and saw the triumph in his eyes and felt so much rage she thought she might breathe fire like Dreamfyre and show him why the sailors called her the Sea Dragon.